It was a bright, sunny morning. This change of the weather was very welcome to us, wet through as we had been, night and day, since we left Scutari. Half-way between Helm and Podgoritza a river crosses the plain. The rapid water has eaten for itself a deep, narrow channel with perpendicular sides. This forms the frontier between Turkey and Montenegro. We crossed this torrent on a well-made bridge, in whose centre was a stone, on one side of which were inscribed the arms of the mountain principality, on the other side the star and crescent of the Sublime Porte. From here we saw, far away over the plain, the minarets of Podgoritza, standing out white against a background of dark Montenegrin mountains.

It was not long before we were outside thetown. It had been a dreary morning's march. The plain, which with care might return much to the agriculturist, was left bare and uncultivated. One need not search far for a reason. We were on the frontier, on the scene of perpetual border frays. He who sowed here would sow for the whirlwind only.

Close to the town was a rough sentry-box; out stepped a Montenegrin sentry, quite a boy, and challenged us. We amused him by showing him our passports, which he gravely considered, first upside down, then sideways; then he held one up to the sun, then shook his head and returned

them. He questioned Marco as to what we were. "These are consuls Inglesi," replied the faithful one; "English consuls on the spree." This was sufficient. We were saluted and allowed to pass.

I believe that throughout our stay in Montenegro we were invariably taken for English Consuls, on a sort of happy-go-lucky holiday; anyhow, we were highly appreciated by all the natives we

came across.

It was very amusing to hear Marco explain us to inquisitive people. Some passers-by would stalk by us-too polite and proud to stare or show any surprise at our appearance; but having passed us, they would stop Marco, and whisper to him, "What are these men ? "Great diplomatists," would reply Marco, with dignity. "Consuls Inglesi. That one in the spectacles is the head diplomatist. All great diplomatists wear spectacles, you know."

We passed through the ruined walls which surround Podgoritza, and marched down several badly-paved streets to the chief khan of the place.

Podgoritza is a considerable town, with a population, I should say, of 8000 at least. It is picturesquely situated on the east bank of the Moracha, a turbulent stream, and one of the chief feeders of the Lake of Scutari. A large proportion of the inhabitants are Mohammedans.

The treaty of Berlin handed over this important Albanian fortress to Montenegro. The Black

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Mountaineers had only occupied the place a short time before our arrival. But all seemed to be going on peaceably; the inhabitants appeared quite reconciled to their new government.

Our khan had been recently the house of a wealthy Mohammedan, and was quite an imposing building. An archway led through to a courtyard, surrounded by stables; above the stables run a wooden gallery, on to which opened the various apartments. It was exactly like some of the old-fashioned inns of the posting days, which one still comes across so frequently in Normandy.

We had a very pleasant chamber handed over to us for our use. A window filled one side of it. As this window was unglazed, this was rather a chilly residence at this time of the year, when the bora blew strong and fresh from the snow-capped mountains. In our honour, one half of the window was glazed. I suppose this exhausted all the glass in the town, for no effort was made to complete the work, though we were here for several days. A divan ran round the wall, on which we were to sleep. They cooked for us at this hotel, but there was little variety in the cuisine; one day stewed fowl and stewed mutton, the next stewed mutton and stewed fowl, and so on. We found there were some bottles of Cyprus wine downstairs, at the bar. We very soon exhausted these, for Cyprus wine seemed a great delicacy, after the rough Albanian wines and rakis.