One evening, about the latter end of November, we were surprised by the appearance of the moving board, and expected that we were to be taken away again, when, to our great amazement, one of the marines that we had left in the prison walked in, looking stout and well; but after him came, or rather was carried, the other, a most horrid spectacle, a moving skeleton, with the skin stretched tightly over his bones; his eyes were sunk deep in his head, and his voice was awfully hollow; he was the most melancholy sight I ever saw. When on board the ship he was a stout, well-made man, and now how dreadfully changed! he had come up merely to die with his old companions. The other had been very ill indeed, but (owing to a good constitution, and the kindness and attentions of Mrs. Noble, who did all that possibly lay in her power to alleviate their sufferings) he had got over his sickness, and was now in a fair way for recovery. They brought notes from Lieut. Douglas and Mrs. Noble, promising us some money. The marines had received their pice, and ours were to come the next day, which they accordingly did; four hundred pice for each of the white men, and three hundred for each of the Lascars.