Prince Nicolas, the lord of this warrior nation, is a man of imposing stature, so broad-shouldered that his height seems far less than it really is, walking with head erect and firm tread and clad in the rich national costume.  The stranger involuntarily doffs his cap and receives in return a short military salute, but accompanied by such a piercing glance from a pair of cold grey eyes that he wonders if he is not an intruder in the land.  This is, however, far from the case.  Under that austere exterior beats a warm heart and an affability of manner to which the lowliest of his peasants will gladly testify.  Prince Nicolas likes to see visitors to his land, and many are the little acts of kindness and courtesy that the traveller receives, all unknown, from his hand, for he knows the coming and going of everyone who makes a longer stay than usual.

Sixty years ago Prince and Bishop were united in one person, and though the Bishop or Vladika has to-day no temporal power, yet in spiritual matters he is absolute.  A very kindly man is the present Vladika, Mitrofanban.  By an odd coincidence his was practically the first house we visited in Montenegro, and with him we drank our last cup of coffee when we left many months later.

The other building is the old palace of the Princes of Montenegro, which won its odd name of Billard or Biljar from the fact that a former Prince was so addicted to the game of billiards that the principal room of the palace was devoted to the game.  It is now used for State purposes.  The upper floors are occupied by the Government offices, and at one corner is the Supreme Court of Justice and Appeal, whose judgments are only reversible by the Prince himself.  Further, the school and printing works are to be found within its quaint old red-brick walls and bastions.

[Illustration:  THE PRINCE’S PALACE]

Opposite to this picturesque old building stands the modern and uninteresting one-storied palace of Prince Nicolas.  It shows the simplicity of his nature in perhaps a more marked degree than anything else, for little or no privacy from his people is possible.  He walks from his house down a short flight of steps into the street.  The small courtyard at the back is surrounded by a low wall, the entrances having no gates.

The recently erected palace of the Crown Prince Danilo, which stands on the outskirts of the town, is a somewhat more pretentious building.  It has a large garden completely walled in, which is at any rate an apology for privacy and seclusion.

To obtain a comprehensive view of the town, we climbed a small hill immediately above the monastery, on whose summit stands the gilded cupola erected to the memory of Danilo Petrovic, the Lord of Njegusi, founder of the present dynasty.  Very pretty the simple little town looks from here, its red roofs giving a pleasing touch of colour to the otherwise severe landscape of grey rock, dazzling white streets, and sparsely vegetated valley.