close to his garrison, and has been in Montenegro ever since, wearing the national costume and married to a girl of the country.  Stephan was certainly a most violent-tempered man, but he was often entertaining, full of fun, a decent cook, and could sing a host of odd songs and snatches picked up in Austrian garrison towns.  Otherwise he was a thorough Montenegrin, though he considered himself vastly their superior.  His temper at other times would be vile, but the mastery over himself was really great, and after a sharp remonstrance he could change his mood completely.

Taking the omnibus of the Anglo-Montenegrin Trading Company, rudely dubbed “the Hearse,” to Plavnica, the station for Podgorica on the Lake of Scutari, we transferred our luggage to a huge barge, or “londra,” and were slowly punted out on to the lake through one of those extraordinary canals which intersect the marshy land at this end of the lake.  There the good ship Danitza, owned by the same company, awaited us, and conveyed us to Virpazar, past our island of Vranjina and its little chapel.

[Illustration:  VIRPAZAR]

Virpazar is the scene of the Montenegrin Vespers in 1702, and one of the richest villages in the district.  Prettily situated up a long estuary of the lake, it is nothing but a collection of about twenty small houses, with arched ground floors, the people living on the first floor.  The village is frequently flooded in the winter.

The importance of this village lies in the fact that it is the connecting link—­and a very bad one at that—­between the rest of Montenegro and the sea.  But no road connects it with the mainland, and travellers from Cetinje or Podgorica must take the steamer from either Rijeka or Plavnica to Virpazar, and from thence a good road leads over the Sutormann Pass to Antivari.  A road which is being built between Virpazar and Rijeka will supply a long-felt want.  At present, when the Prince or Crown Prince wish to visit their favourite residence on the sea at Topolica, near Antivari, the horses have to be sent by a roundabout mountain path from Rijeka, taking many hours, while the Princes take steamer and have a tedious wait in the inn at Virpazar.

To this inn we went—­there was no choice about it; it is the only one, and, moreover, there is but a single room for guests, serving as dining and sleeping apartment.  Though we arrived at midday, we had to wait till the following day at noon for the postcart—­twenty-four hours in this very uninteresting hole.

But we hobnobbed with the local grandees, for there is the district law court here (the captain and magistrate have their residences in the village), and managed to pass the time fairly agreeably.  In the evening we sat under the trees in front of our humble yet princely hostel, and talked of many things to our newly made friends.  The frogs in the marshes made a terrific noise, almost drowning our conversation.