HOW I LAY AMONG LOST SOULS The ship we were on was the 48-gun frigate _Swiftsure_, and of our treatment we had no reason to complain.

We were landed at Portsmouth two days later, drafted from one full prison to another, from Forton to the Old Mill at Plymouth, from Plymouth to Stapleton near Bristol, separated by degrees and circumstances, till at last I found myself one more lost soul in the great company that filled the temporary war prison, known among its inmates and the people of that countryside as Amperdoo.
It lay apart from humanity, in a district of fens and marshes, across which, in the winter time, the east wind swept furiously in from the North Sea, some thirty miles away.

It cut like a knife--to the very bone.

I hear it still of a night in my dreams, and wake up and thank God that after all it is only our own gallant south-wester, which, if somewhat unreasonably boisterous at times, and over fond of showing what it can do, is still an honest wind, and devoid of treachery.

For we were but ill-clad at best, and were always lacking in the matter of fuel, and many other things that make for comfort.