but it’s also because I haven’t been to La Rochelle. We had barely arrived in Brest, when they crammed us full of rifles for the Russians, who it seems are fighting in Poland with wooden sticks. I never saw so many rifles in my life, and there are whole cargoes like that, going from England and other places. The _Pamir_ also carried revolvers, machine-guns--all the small arms, in short. The cartridges went in another boat. The authorities were hustling us and came on board every few minutes to see if we were ready to start, as we had to go with all speed to Trondhjem, in Norway, and await cargo boats from America and England in order to make the voyage to Russia with them under the protection of British cruisers. In short, it was deuced urgent--the Russians were waiting for their rifles and it was a question of minutes! Not one of us had time in the midst of all this to go ashore, except Fourgues, on matters of business. The more we loaded, the more came. We put the cases everywhere, on the deck, in the fo’c’sle, in all the empty cabins, till there was hardly room to move. If fire had broken out ... my word, with all those wooden cases and well-oiled implements! But Fourgues says he was born under a lucky star and that I must admit it. The _Pamir_ left without my having needed to buy a railroad time-table and it made my heart ache to pass the Goulet. My fiancée will think that it was because I didn’t want to, for she is like all civilians, who imagines that one does as one pleases.... But you know how it is--after two or three days you get into harness again and you tell yourself that it will come out all right some day. As the Channel isn’t safe, they ordered us to go to Trondhjem by way of the Irish Channel, and we saw some English destroyers cruising on the very spot where a year ago they broke the war news to us. “Perhaps they are the same!” said Fourgues. “Eh, my boy, we have blown around some miles since that time and the _Pamir_ is still going strong!” And that’s the truth. It is never very smooth around Norway, but the _Pamir_ was so heavily laden that the seas went over her without her ever flinching. She was, of course, as slow as a tortoise, but in spite of that we got to Trondhjem ahead of time. As we are still without wireless, Fourgues couldn’t know whether we were ahead of the convoy or behind it, so, after rolling for a day in sight of the coast, he put into the fjord, for it seemed hardly worth while burning coal and wearing out the boat for nothing. The semaphore signalled us that the convoy had not been sighted at sea and that we should be notified. So Fourgues was relieved and proceeded to anchor at the farther end, amongst the other ships waiting there.