ar behind as the level which it enriched with tropical flowers. The
Prince suggested to Aunt Kathryn that she should wrap round her a
shawl-like rug, and though I hated to follow his advice or take any
favours from him, I decided that it would be foolish to make myself a
martyr. So I, too, swaddled myself in woolly folds, and was thankful.

Now the windings of the Bocche di Cattaro revealed themselves
completely. The bay was no longer a silk sleeve; but a vast star,
seemingly cut out of a _lapis lazuli_, was set mosaic-like in the midst
of green and blue-grey mountains that soared up from it--up, up, in
shapes strange as a goblin's dream. Then, the azure star vanished, and
rocky heights shut away the view of the distant sea. Vegetation grew
sparse. At last we had reached the desolate and stony top of the
mountain-range which a little while ago had touched the sky. Clouds like
huge white swans swam in the blue air below us, where we could look down
from some sheer precipice. But where was Schloss Hrvoya? And would Aunt
Kathryn never speak to me?

Almost as if he read my thoughts, Prince Dalmar-Kalm turned his head,
checking the speed of the motor. "Don't be discouraged," he said,
cheerfully. "We shall be going down now, for a time, instead of up; and
shortly we shall be at our journey's end."

"But soon it will be twilight," I answered. "Do you know, it is after
six, and you said we would be back in Cattaro before eight. That's
impossible now; and I'm afraid that there won't be much daylight for
Aunt Kathryn to have a first look at her castle."

"It will be more imposing by twilight," replied the Prince; and though
my words had been a bid for notice from Aunt Kathryn, she made no sign
of having heard.

Once more Prince Dalmar-Kalm turned his attention to driving, and, as he
had prophesied, we began to plunge down heights almost as tremendous as
those we had climbed. The road, though splendidly engineered, was
covered with loose, sharp stones; and the surging mountain-tops on every
side were like the tossing waves of a desolate sea, turned to stone in
some fierce spasm of nature. Then, in the midst of this petrified ocean,
we flashed through a tiny village, and my hopes of reaching Schloss
Hrvoya before nightfall brightened.

From the little group of low, stone buildings, men who must have sprung
from a race of giants, rushed out in answer to the voice of our motor. I
had never seen such wonderful men, unless, perha