charge and led us, in spite of protestations, to the
hotel. A man in a shabby frock-coat received us, and Jo, mistaking him
for the innkeeper, clamoured once more for the Russians. The shabby man
explained that he was the Prefect, and that this was a State reception.
We began to be awed by our own dignity. We explained to him that the
Shadow had changed his mind and had sent Bogami instead.

Bogami brought our knapsacks to our room, where he was immobilized by
the sight of himself in the looking-glass of the wardrobe; probably he
had never seen such a thing before, and he goggled at it. He at last
backed slowly from the room.

We rested a while, then descended to find--the Shadow.

He was rather hurt with us, and wanted to know why the ---- we had gone
off without him. We explained, compared watches, and found that Jan's
was an hour too fast. The poor Shadow had been chasing us on a borrowed
horse, with our permissions to travel in his pocket, and wildly hoping
that he would catch us up before we were arrested as spies.

We had tea with the Russians in a little arbour on the roadside, and
chewed sweets which had just arrived from Petrograd, having been three
months on the journey, but none the worse for that. Many officers came,
amongst them the husband of the little Russian girl we had met at
Prepolji. They all seemed to be Voukotitches, and at last the Sirdar
himself honoured us. He is a huge man, and yet seemed to take up more
room than his size warrants. He has a flat, almost plate-like face, with
pallid blue eyes which seemed to focus some way beyond the object of his
regard. Were his moustache larger he would be rather like Lord
Kitchener, and he was very pleased at the obvious compliment. He poses a
little, moves seldom but suddenly, and shoots his remarks as though
words of command. He was very kind to us, and was immensely astonished
at Jo's Serbian, holding up his hands and saying "Kako" at every one of
her speeches. He suggested that poor Bogami should be beaten, but we
begged him off. Captain Voukotitch, the husband of a day, was appointed
to be our guide for the morrow--because Jo spoke Serbian.

After tea we went up to the bubbly mosque, which was in reality the
Greek church. We entered a large gate; on the one side of a yard was the
church, and on the other a big two-storied rest-house, where one could
lodge while paying devotions or doing pilgrimages. Its long balconies
were filled with country folk