tune on you. Choose some one else.'

"Kniaz was certainly not particularly prepossessing. He was tall and
angular, and pock-marked and sandy-haired; and his eyes had a peculiar
cast--only a cast, of course, nothing more. To balance these detractions
he was civil in his manners and extremely moderate in his terms.
Dalghetty, faithful fellow, almost wept as he watched us depart. 'I
shall never see you again,' he said. 'Never!'

"Just outside the last cottage in the village we passed a gigantic,
broad-shouldered man, clad in the usual clothes of frieze, a black
skullcap, wide trousers, and tights from the knee to the ankle. Over his
shoulders was a new white strookah, of which he seemed very proud;
whilst he had a perfect armament of weapons--rifles, pistols,
yatagan--polished up to the knocker--and cartouche-box. He was
conversing with a girl at one of the windows, but turned as we came up
to him and leered impudently at Kniaz. The sallow in Kniaz's cheeks
turned to white, and the cast in his eyes became ten times more
pronounced. But he said nothing--only drooped his head and shuffled a
little closer to me.

"For the rest of the day he spoke little; and I could tell from his
expression and general air of dejection that he was still brooding over
the incident. The following morning--we stayed the night in a wayside
inn--Kniaz informed me that the route we had intended taking to
Skaravoski--the town I meant to make the head quarters for my daily
excursions--was blocked (a blood feud had suddenly been declared between
two tribes), and that consequently we should have to go by some other
way. I inquired who had told him and whether he was sure the information
was correct. He replied that our host had given him the warning, and
that the possibility of such an occurrence had been suggested to him
before leaving Cetinge. 'But,' he added, 'there is no need to worry, for
the other road, though somewhat wild and rough, is, in reality, quite as
safe, and certainly a good league and a half shorter.' As it made no
very great difference to me which way I went, I acquiesced. There was no
reason to suspect Kniaz of any sinister motive--cases of treachery on
the part of escorts are practically unknown in Montenegro--and if it
were true that some of the tribes were engaged in a vendetta, then I
certainly agreed that we could not give them too wide a berth. At the
same time I could not help observing a strange innovation in Kniaz's
char