At eleven o’clock we entered the port of Suez. On the African coast rises the chain of the Dakhi Mountains; opposite, on the Arabian coast, we see the high peak of Mount Sinai, and an oasis of palm trees surnamed the “Fountain of Moses.” The ship was going to stay here for two or three hours only; it was not worth while going on shore.

Towards five o’clock we have got over the 64 kilometres of the maritime canal, and are in the stifling heat of the Red Sea.

During night the wind arose. I was wakened by the horrid rolling of the ship. Piercing whistles were blown and the sailors climbed hurriedly up the masts in pitch darkness, trying to catch the end of the sails which the storm was tearing into pieces.

June 28th.—We are in the tropics. The air is like fire and the temperature of the water is very high. The stewardess advised me to lie down on the floor under the open porthole over which she spread a sheet. I had a nice little nap, thanks to this improvised punkah.

June 29th.—There is not the slightest breeze; we live in a furnace. The sky, always blue, gives me the nostalgia of the cloud. This afternoon we crossed the Strait of Bab-el-Mandeb.

June 30th.—I could not sleep the whole night. I tried to lie down on the floor under the improvised punkah, but it didn’t help a bit. I was quite worn out and had a good cry. Maria Michaelovna and my maid Feoktista came to keep me company. The moon was beginning to pale when Sergy took me on the deck, where mattresses had been laid down for us on the floor. Whilst we passed along the lower deck we had to step over the recruits who lay on the deck one beside the other.

July 1st.—This morning we came into the narrow channels of the fortified Perim Islands, a bare rock with a few houses on it, without any traces of vegetation. And to think that it was political conditions which forced unfortunate British officers to pass a part of their lives in such an infernal hole!