For the first mile or two all went well, but soon there was an accident; the road was heavy and one of our horses slipped and fell down. It was not a good beginning, but we still had the worst before us, and a long way to go. We only made a hundred miles that day, the roads being shockingly bad, all covered with big stones over which we rumbled down, our carriage bouncing like a roasted chestnut. I tried to console myself with the thought that the way which led to “Paradise” was also covered with stones and strewed with pebbles. We stopped for the night in a small Turkish hamlet and continued our journey at dawn; the worst bit of it now began. The road which led to the next station was a terribly bad one; we had to abandon our comfortable coach and take a sledge. The road grew steeper with every mile; it was a succession of hills, one after the other. Up and down we went all the time, but I felt a wonderful access of courage at the thought that each mile drew me nearer to Sergy. I could already feel myself flying into his arms. In descending a terribly steep hill our sledge was upset and bang—there we were in a deep ditch! Happily we had come to no harm, and after having assured ourselves that we had no broken limbs, we remounted into our sledge and travelled on till sunset Dreading to be overtaken by darkness in the mountains, we made a halt in a village under the hospitable roof of Mr. Iliashenko, a Russian officer who took up his quarters there with some dozen soldiers. I was pretty well fagged out and hurried off to my room. It was so nice to sleep again like respectable people, between sheets, on our second night’s resting-place. A most dreadful surprise awaited me in the morning. I was roused by Helena coming to tell me that General Kousminski was summoned back to Kars at once. The prospects of so long a journey without my protector was the most distressing thing that could befall me. The worst of all was that we were in danger of dying of starvation, for we were not supplied with provisions. The next stage was known to be a very risky one, and I had to make all the way on horseback. Helena had set out before in a peasant’s cart with an old military doctor who was also proceeding to Erzeroum, and to whose care General Kousminski had entrusted me. It was not nice at all to be left behind! Our horses were led up, but I couldn’t manage to climb into the saddle which one of the soldiers had lent me; the clumsily tied arch would not hold and I slipped down continually. I was growing quite desperate, when it occurred to Mr. Iliashenko to propose for me his transport-van, an enormous vehicle with a team of six horses. I climbed into it tremblingly, and off we went.