transformed us--M. Berthémie and me--into two strolling merchants, the
one from _Schwekat_, in Hungary, the other from _Leoben_.

The moment of departure had arrived; the 13th of August, 1808, we were
on board, but our ship's company was not complete. The captain, whose
title was Raï Braham Ouled Mustapha Goja, having perceived that the Dey
was on his terrace, and fearing punishment if he should delay to set
sail, completed his crew at the expense of the idlers who were looking
on from the pier, and of whom the greater part were not sailors. These
poor people begged as a favour for permission to go and inform their
families of this precipitate departure, and to get some clothes. The
captain remained deaf to their remonstrances. We weighed anchor.

The vessel belonged to the Emir of Seca, Director of the Mint. The real
commander was a Greek captain, named Spiro Calligero. The cargo
consisted of a great number of _groups_. Amongst the passengers there
were five members of the family which the Bakri had succeeded as kings
of the Jews; two ostrich-feather merchants, Moroccans; Captain Krog,
from Berghen in Norway, who had sold his ship at Alicant; two lions sent
by the Dey to the emperor Napoleon, and a great number of monkeys. Our
voyage was prosperous. Off Sardinia we met with an American ship coming
out from Cagliari. A cannon-shot (we were armed with forty pieces of
small power) warned the captain to come to be recognized. He brought on
board a certain number of counterparts of passports, one of which agreed
perfectly with that which we carried. The captain being thus all right,
was not a little astonished when I ordered him, in the name of Captain
Braham, to furnish us with tea, coffee, and sugar. The American captain
protested; he called us brigands, pirates, robbers. Captain Braham
admitted without difficulty all these qualifications, and persisted none
the less in the exaction of sugar, coffee, and tea.