sed no undue grief. One
man's misfortune is another's luck. Montenegro might now become
top-dog.

I Was in Egypt when a Reuter telegram announced that the Austrians
had taken the Lovtchen, occupied Cetinje, and appointed as Mayor
"the Bulgarian Vuletitch." I guessed at once this was my old friend
Vulco of the Grand Hotel. His son-in-law, Rizoff, who had had to
leave Rome, where he was working a pro-German propaganda, was now
Bulgarian Minister at Berlin. There was something truly Balkanic in
the surrender of Cetinje, arranged by the Grand Hotel and his
son-in law, which appealed to my sense of humour. I soon learnt my
guess was true. The Fates willed that I should meet a Montenegrin
official. Last time we met during the Balkan war I had vituperated
him about the cutting off of noses. Now in a strange land we were
old friends.

"Tell me," said I, "what happened? The Austrians cannot really have
taken the Lovtchen. One does not march troops up two thousand feet
of rocks under guns, when one can walk in by the back door."
Cheerfully he replied:

"Gospodjitza, you have been up the Lovtchen yourself. It is not
worth while lying to you. Frankly, we welcomed the Austrians, even
with enthusiasm. A small detachment on the road had not been warned,
and fired. Otherwise nothing occurred. Yes, Vuko is Mayor! All your
old friends remain, Yanko Vukotitch, and all! Only the King and
suite left. Mirko, as you know, remains." Here he burst out
laughing. "He is tuberculous, you know, and will go to Vienna to
consult a doctor! The King told Petar to remain, too, but it bored
him, and he came away afterwards. Mon Dieu, but the King was angry
with him. You know our Montenegrins. They are funny dogs. When those
at Antivari heard that the Austrians had arrived in Cetinje, they
pillaged the palace of Prince Danilo. But before the house of the
Austrian consul they put a guard. A good fellow this consul, is he
not? For me this war is the struggle of the Slav and the Teuton for
the only unexploited lands in Europe. We always knew it would come.
But in the past we have never reckoned that England will range
herself with Russia and permit her to take Constantinople. That
would mean the end of Roumania, of Bulgaria, of Serbia, of us, and
of you, too, Gospodjitza, if you are not careful. Therefore we
ranged ourselves with Austria. Those who have travelled in Austria
know that the Slavs there are richer, better educated, and better
off in every