At last, toward evening, my friend returned, but the news he brought was not cheering.

He had found a passport, indeed, but his report of the rigors of the inspection at the wharf was such as to make it clear that the chances of my getting through on a false passport were exceedingly slim, since I was well known in Jaffa.
If I were caught in such an undertaking, it might mean death for me and punishment for the friends who had helped me.
Evidently this plan was not feasible.

All that night I racked my brain for a solution.

Finally I decided to stake everything on what appeared to be my only chance.

The Tennessee was due on the next day but one, early in the morning.