It was rapidly becoming a matter of life or death for me to get home. I was so ill and exhausted that I could only stand with difficulty; and my funds were running so short that I could bear the expenses of living at an hotel for only a few days. Having received permission, therefore, I went down to the wharves with a policeman to look for a boat, the regular packets having ceased running. I do not think that my further movements can have much interest; but I may just state that all I could do at Riga was to persuade a fisherman to run me over to Gothland for the sum of twenty roubles. The little voyage of about 200 miles was commenced on Thursday the 20th May, and was performed in much trepidation for fear of the German cruisers, several of which were reported to be in this part of the Baltic--I do not know on what grounds. We saw nothing of them; and arrived at Slitehaum soon after daybreak on the 23rd, the winds having been against us during a great part of the voyage. At Slitehaum I took the train to Wisby, after some trouble with the local officials, the inevitable thing, it seems to me, in all Continental travel. My papers, contrary to my wishes, had been retained by the Russian police at Riga; and they had given me a passport which did not seem to be quite satisfactory to the Custom-house officer at Gothland. He was much exercised in mind by the lack of the usual impedimenta of a traveller, and accepted my explanations with palpable suspicion. After a delay of four hours, he permitted me to proceed; and on reaching Wisby I took the Swedish packet-boat to Stockholm. At Riga I had persuaded the police to enter me on the passport as an American: not quite a straight-forward thing to do, perhaps, but a _ruse de guerre_ which, I think, the circumstances in which I was placed fully justified.