r tale. Judging by the
celerity with which the Montenegrin troops were despatched to the
frontier I incline to think it was "a put up job."

News came in of the sinking of the Russian fleet by the Japanese. It
produced a deep sensation. Formerly every Serb and Montenegrin had
jeered at me because we took so long beating the Boers. Now when it
appeared that heathens, believed to be black, were at the least
inflicting heavy loss on Holy Russia, they felt as though the
universe were falling. I noted in my diary: "Out here one feels very
keenly the tituppy state of politics. Anything likely to upset the
apple-cart should be avoided."

I returned without adventure to Nikshitch, and thence to Nyegushi by
a very bad mountain track.

By now it was midsummer and blazing hot. I stayed at Krsto's hut,
and slept in a sort of outhouse called the "magazin," built to hold
contraband goods by an ancestor. By day the cloudless sky closed
down on us like a lid and shut out every breath of air. The little
cabbages wilted in yellow rows and the inhabitants of Nyegushi, like
true Montenegrins, spent the day smoking and vainly watching for the
sign of a cloud, instead of fetching water for their gardens.

At midday the limestone rocks glared and the shadows lay like ink
blots. Only at night, when a soft wind stole up from the Bocche di
Cattaro, did Nyegushi come to life. Then we gathered on a mound
behind Krsto's hut and the neighbours flocked to hear the "monogram"
as they persistently called my phonograph. So soon as its raucous
voice arose, folk who had gone to bed emerged and joined the party
just as they were. But this merely means that they were barefoot and
revolverless, for no one undresses in the Near East.

My repertoire was limited, and I played "God Save the King" till I
realized what must be the sufferings of the Royal Family. For
Montenegro was all agog about King Edward.

When King Edward was last at Marienbad he had met and spoken with
Prince Mirko and his wife Princess Natalie. Nor was it surprising,
for the Princess was rarely beautiful, her figure as perfect as her
face; and her lovely head was poised upon a flawless neck and
shoulders. She would have shone in any court in Europe, and it was a
hard fate which gave her to the second son of Montenegro. She, poor
young thing, was one of the pawns in the game which the Petrovitch
dynasty was playing for Great Serbia, and she dreamed of Queendom.

Edward VII admired he