We were off Marseilles on the 1st of July, when an English frigate came to stop our passage:  “I will not take you,” said the English captain; “but you will go towards the Hyeres Islands, and Admiral Collingwood will decide on your fate.”

“I have received,” answered the Barbary captain, “an express commission to conduct these vessels to Marseilles, and I will execute it.”

“You, individually, can do what may seem to you best,” answered the Englishman; “as to the merchant vessels under your escort, they will be, I repeat to you, taken to Admiral Collingwood.”  And he immediately gave orders to those vessels to set sail to the East.

The frigate had already gone a little distance when she perceived that we were steering towards Marseilles.  Having then learnt from the crews of the merchant vessels that we were ourselves laden with cotton, she tacked about to seize us.

She was very near reaching us, when we were enabled to enter the port of the little island of Pomegue.  In the night she put her boats to sea to try to carry us off; but the enterprise was too perilous, and she did not dare attempt it.

The next morning, 2d of July, 1809, I disembarked at the lazaretto.

At the present day they go from Algiers to Marseilles in four days; it had taken me eleven months to make the same voyage.  It is true that here and there I had made involuntary sojourns.

My letters sent from the lazaretto at Marseilles were considered by my relatives and friends as certificates of resurrection, they having for a long time past supposed me dead.  A great geometer had even proposed to the Bureau of Longitude no longer to pay my allowance to my authorized representative; which appears the more cruel inasmuch as this representative was my father.

The first letter which I received from Paris was full of sympathy and congratulations on the termination of my laborious and perilous adventures; it was from a man already in possession of an European reputation, but whom I had never seen:  M. de Humboldt, after what he had heard of my misfortunes, offered me his friendship.  Such was the first origin of a connection which dates from nearly forty-two years back, without a single cloud ever paving troubled it.

M. Dubois Thainville had numerous acquaintances in Marseilles; his wife was a native of that town, and her family resided there.  They received, therefore, both of them, numerous visits in the parlour of the lazaretto.  The bell which summoned them, for me alone was dumb; and I remained as solitary and forsaken, at the gates of a town peopled with a hundred thousand of my countrymen, as if I had been in the heart of Africa.  One day, however, the parlour-bell rang three times (the number of times corresponding to the number of my room); I thought it must be a mistake.  I did not, however, allow this to appear.  I traversed proudly under the escort of my guard of health the long space which separates the lazaretto, properly so called, from the parlour; and there I found, with very lively satisfaction, M. Pons, the director of the Observatory at Marseilles, and the most celebrated discoverer of comets of whom the annals of Astronomy have ever had to register the success.