eir doubts to the British Consulate in
Belgrade must remain a Balkan mystery. Instead of doing so the Serb
police replied, "We are having her followed everywhere. The names of
all she speaks to are noted. She goes everywhere. She talks to any
one who will talk to her. She draws all kinds of things for what
purpose we cannot ascertain. She speaks Serbian very badly, but it
is evident she does so on purpose and that she understands
everything." My arrest was almost decided on, when some one had a
brilliant idea. A photograph of the suspected Serbian lady was
somehow obtained in England and Militchevitch was then able to swear
that it had no resemblance to the Englishwoman whose passport he had
signed. Serbia was saved--that time! I was then in Pirot. Orders at
once flew over the country that the treatment should be at once
reversed and that the unpleasant impression that had been produced
should be, as far as possible, obliterated.

The episode gives a clear idea of the state of nervous tension that
existed.

The sublime folly of the Serbian police consisted in thinking that
if I were really an agent of Prince Mirko, bringing messages and
intending to take them on to Sofia I should have been such a fool as
to tell every one I met that I had just come from Cetinje. But
perhaps they judged others by themselves. The semi-oriental mind is
born to suspicion and can conceive of no straightforward action. In
truth "DORA" hails from the Near East. Is not her very name of Greek
origin?

To me it was a useful experience for it hardened me to being
"shadowed," and I bore it serenely ever afterwards. So much so in
fact that when in 1915 at Marseilles I was twice cross-examined by
the French Intelligence Officers and three times and very minutely,
by the English ones, I thought it funny, which surprised them. They
would have been still more surprised had I told them that they
reminded me of the police of Belgrade, and asked them why they were
called "Intelligence."

Their efforts were as vain as those of their Serb forerunners and
for the same reason. I had no plots to reveal.

CHAPTER FIVE.

WHAT WAS BEHIND IT ALL

It is a strange Desire to seeke Power and to lose Libertie. . . .
The standing is slippery, and the Regresse is either a Downefall, or
at least an Eclipse. Which is a Melancholy Thing.--BACON.

I went to Serbia as a tourist, but, thanks to the misdirected energy
of the Serb police, was made aware for the