An officer greeted us.

“We had expected you yesterday,” he said.

We waved to the horses.

“No horses.”

“That is a pity,” he murmured.  “You see, there was something to eat yesterday!”

In spite of his pessimism we got eggs and wine.  Bogami had a large crowd, to whom he lectured, and we sent him out some eggs.

After lunch we pushed on, in conquered territory.  To Chainitza they said was one hour and a half, it proved nearer three.

We joined some peasants, and they told us that they were going to the great festival.  The old mother halted at a sort of sheep pen by the roadside; when she rejoined us she was wiping her eyes.

“That was my brother,” she explained; “he was killed in the war;” for it is the custom to erect memorial stones by the roadside.  Many of these are very quaint, sometimes painted with a soldier, or else with the rifle, sword, pistols and medals of the deceased.

Chainitza lies in a backwater, where the deep valley makes a sudden bend.  When we came to it the sun was in our eyes, and halfway between the crest and the river the town seemed to float in a bluish mist; two white mosques stood out against the trees, and the roof of one was not one dome, but many like an inverted egg frier, or almost as though it was boiling over.

We were stopped at the entry by a sentry.

“Where are you going?”

“To the Russian Hospital.”

He took us in 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