November 11th.—The crossing from Suez to Marseilles does not take more than three or four days. The weather grew perceptibly colder. We entered the Mediterranean in the afternoon and found it very disagreeable in this season. Great billows are rising on the water and the steamer begins to rock.
November 12th.—The night has been abominable, the sirocco was blowing very hard all day.
November 13th.—The snow-covered summit of Mount Etna appears on the horizon. We have been assailed by a terrible tempest when passing the coasts of Calabria. All the passengers are prostrated with sea-sickness.
November 14th.—A grey sky, grey rocks, and a grey sea! The wind has gone down and everybody is on deck. On a placid sea we sped westward, sighting the mountain ranges of Corsica and Sardinia.
CHAPTER LXXXIX
MARSEILLES
November 15th.—In the middle of the night the stopping of the screw woke me. The white cliffs of France had come to sight at last. I heaved a sign of relief when the Océanien dropped anchor at Marseilles, and only thought of a comfortable bed and a good fire. It was a day of “mistral,” and whilst we drove to the Hôtel de Noailles, I had to protect myself with my umbrella against the terrible gusts of wind which played havoc with my hat and hair.
November 16th.—I have enjoyed my first night on terra-firma, snug and warm in my soft, immovable bed, and forgot all the miseries we have passed through during our long voyage. The sky is slate-coloured, a cold wind blows in the street; nevertheless I decided to go to Monte-Carlo with the Serebriakoffs and Mr. Shaniawski. Sergy had to remain at Marseilles in order to confer with some French officials about the traffic carried on between Marseilles and Oriental Siberia. I sent traffic to the deuce.