I informed the military commanders of this; their answer was, 'Go, and rejoin your ships _via_ Varna, if you will only get out of this; we don't want your advice.' By this time, however, my professional pride was wounded, and I determined to do something to show my contempt for them all.
The only thing left for me to do for the moment was a little blockade-running, so I resolved to bring my ship back past the Russian barrier in the Lower Danube at all risks, instead of tamely returning by land.

So great was the jealousy against me that I almost think the Turkish authorities commanding in the Danube would have been pleased if I had failed, and so come to grief.

I had with me a very fast paddle-steamer called the 'Rethymo'; her captain and crew were what the Turks always are--brave as lions and obedient as lambs.
I took on board a river pilot, whom I gave to understand that if he got me on shore I would blow his brains out.

Before starting I sent for my officers and crew and told them of the perhaps unnecessary dangers we should run in passing the Russian barrier, and gave to all the option of leaving or going on.

They decided to a man to go on.