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 the city, and thus avoid the risk of crossing it, nor my road to the frontier, should I ever be able to get through Sofia safely, I was much puzzled what course to take.

I could of course trust to the chance of being able to make inquiries as I went, but there was so much risk in such a course that I feared it. If I was to get through safely, I knew I must ride for the most part at night, because the daylight spelt a double danger to me. It was practically certain that the main road would be infested by Kolfort's men, and the chances of my being able to evade them all were infinitesimal.

Another scheme suggested itself to me—hazardous, no doubt—but possibly not so dangerous as the alternative. Markov had given me a plan of his route to the frontier, with a list of the places and persons where he had arranged for the relays of horses; but in the confusion and hurry of my departure from Sofia I had left this behind me. It was not of much consequence so long as he had been present to act as guide, but without him it had become of vital importance. My present idea was therefore to risk a return to my own house, get the paper, which was locked up in a secret cabinet in my library, and perhaps remain hidden in the house during the following day, setting out on my journey to the frontier when darkness came to help me.

The obstacle to the scheme was, of course, the possibility that my house might be in the possession of Kolfort's agents, and that I might run my head into a trap. But the house contained so many secret ways and passages that this risk was greatly lessened; and I reckoned that I could at least effect an entrance without being discovered, and if I found the project impossible