“I think we’d all better go back to Podgoritza and come again to-morrow,” said the man in charge.

“We don’t move from here,” said Jo, firmly.  “If he won’t go we’ll sit on this boat—­which was sent for us—­and sing songs all night so that he shan’t sleep.”

The captain refused to move without the mattresses and we refused to go back, so a violent argument ensued.  We remained adamant.  At last in despair the harbour master said that he would go and telephone.  Night was coming on, the deck was chilly, so Jan went to explore.  The quay was half under water, but by jumping from stone to stone one could get about, and Jan discovered an entrance into the stone storehouse.  The door was boarded up, but he forced his way in, discovering a huge empty interior banked up well above the water.  At one end was a platform made of boards on tubs.  An ideal bed.  He called the company and they arranged themselves on the planks, though some were dismayed at the prospect of getting no supper.  The boards were loose and as each took his place they bobbed up and down.  Miss Brindley said that it seemed like sleeping on the keyboard of a piano.  We did not expect to see anything before morning of the harbour-master or of Stajitch who had gone with him; but just as we were settled and beginning to snore and the rats were running about, Stajitch poked his head through the window and said that the boat was going immediately.  We reluctantly got up, for we were really rather cosy, packed again and hopped in the moonlight from stone to stone till we got to the ship—­which was the same old Turkish gunboat on which we had travelled once before.  The thing was then explained—­a telegraphic mistake.  The captain had been ordered to fetch the strangers:  but strangers and mattresses are only one letter different, “n” or “m,” this letter had been transposed.

Luckily it was a beautiful moonlight night.  The lake was wonderfully romantic.  A fat Serbian captain, who seemed to know Stajitch, made a request.  He said that he had been cut off from his division, which was at Monastir, and that he was going to try and rejoin them.  He ask us if he could join our party, as it would come cheaper at the hotels and he could get transport.

It was pretty cold on the lake, but we wrapped ourselves in our blankets and said the view was lovely.  Hunger was also gnawing within us, so we were glad when at last the rumbling old engines halted and the steamer gave three hoots.  We waited anxiously, and at last a large rowboat came sideways against the steamer.  Four carriages were waiting in the bazaar.  A very polite Montenegrin doctor welcomed us at the hotel and we got some much desired food.

Bed was beginning to be a mere commonplace now, but we enjoyed it for all that, and slept well into the morning.

Scutari wore its usual air of “the ballet” when we arose.  The ladies dressed all in their best clothes, and with great flowing veils and wide skirted coats were hobbling to church.  The shopkeepers, with their long black and white legs and coloured shirts, were lounging about the low counters of their shops, smoking and drinking coffee brought them (on little swinging trays) by boys.