December 20th.—We arrived at Vladivostock in the morning, and were met on the platform by all the military and civil authorities of the town. We embark to-morrow on the Khabarovsk which the Volunteer Fleet puts at our disposal as far as Shanghai.

December 21st.—At seven o’clock in the morning the command of the captain resounded, and the engines began to throb, but the boat, held by the ice, did not move, and hope had been abandoned of starting to-day. It will be a polar cruise that we shall have to undertake, as it appears.

December 22nd.—We were obliged to have recourse to an ice-breaker, which came to our rescue. We are moving at last. The boat had to saw her way through the ice, which came breaking against her sides. We are in the open sea which is greeting us with a terrible gust of wind. We are going to have a fine dance on the water.

December 23rd.—The squall has confined nearly all the passengers to their cabins. Although accustomed to many sails across the ocean, I was beginning to feel a slight dizziness and had to lie down. The ship’s doctor, trying to recover me from an attack of sea-sickness which had prostrated me, made me swallow a tablet of antipyrine.

December 24th.—The rolling continues, the wind roars, great waves splash overdeck. I am dreadfully ill and keep my bed. Okaia, the Japanese stewardess, crouches upon the floor at the foot of my bed, watching me with the eyes of a faithful dog.

December 25th.—To-day is Christmas day. Two French tradesmen, Kahn by name, to whom Sergy gave permission to sail with us as far as Shanghai, have sent me a large box filled with fruit. The barometer begins to rise and shows one degree above zero.

December 26th.—The weather is very mild, and there are already twelve degrees of warmth. After having suffered from the cold, we are going to experience now the torture of tropical heat. The one is worth the other.