When reporting the approach of a French warship, the captain of an auxiliary cruiser innocently asked if he should examine her. I am curious to know how he would examine a warship. There are many similar cases of sharp wit, and frequently no attention is paid to such pranks. The more I hear of the personnel and the morale in the Port Arthur fleet, the less astonished I am at its destruction, and the less pitiable it seems to me. The greatest pity is the loss of the ships.
The steamer Eridan, under French colours, arrived from Saigon with provisions at 9.30 a.m. I was not expecting anything, when suddenly a sailor came and handed me your letters. Apparently Günsburg sent them to Saigon under cover to his brother Mess (the real surname of the Günsburgs is Mess).
I was quite beside myself with joy. I am still more delighted at receiving news that is only a month old. At that moment the flag diving-officer came into my cabin on business. I scarcely remember what I said to him.
There were very few letters. I was the only one of the staff who received any. To-day is a red-letter day for me. I sat down to write to you, when the senior staff-officer, S——, came and proposed that I should take 1,000 cigarettes off him, out of the 4,000 he had received. They are Russian cigarettes that M. Mess sent. I am set up in smokes for a long time now.
Captain Pollis, who has recently been our secret agent in Batavia, arrived in the Eridan, and also Lieutenant M——, who broke out of Port Arthur in a torpedo-boat shortly before its fall. They will both remain in the fleet. The Eridan leaves to-day. It will be nice to send a letter by her.
April 25th.—After receiving your letters I rushed about the Suvaroff, and decided to go to the Borodino. When I arrived there the captain was asleep. They woke him. We sat down, and drank tea, and he gave me sweets. He began to plan how we should travel about Europe together after the war is over. We sat down with a tantalus and chatted. Just then they brought him letters from the Suvaroff. It was a pity I did not know there was a mail for him. I might have brought it with me.
It so happened that fate gladdened only two officers with news from home. In the Suvaroff I was the only happy one. To-day was a holiday for me indeed.
At six o'clock I went back to the Suvaroff in the Borodino's mining cutter, and to my horror found that the mail had already been sent to the Eridan. I stuck a 5-franc stamp on to my letter. Other people gave me some of theirs, and I made up a large packet, addressing it to M. Mess. I then sent it by boat to the Eridan, which might at any moment get up anchor and go to Saigon.
The Annamese are queer people. They value brass and silver buttons at more than five francs each. The crew, of course, profit by this, settle their accounts with buttons, and trade in them also.
The third fleet has not yet arrived, but letters have been received for it viâ Günsburg. There will be a mail in it for us. I count on receiving thirty-three letters from you.