Having paid for our coffee and thrown a few paràs to the minstrels, we sallied forth again.
"And now, friend Pero," I said, "I should like to see some of your Montenegrin beauties. I have seen lots of fine men this morning; but as to the women, friend Pero, they are a caution. I never saw so many ugly ones congregated together."
My conductor smiled, shrugged his shoulders, and looked me in the face; he did not know exactly whether he ought not to be angry. However, his habitual good-humour prevailed, and with a loud laugh, he said:
"Avete ragione, son brutte come il Demonio. But wait, only wait till you see the Princess; she is a pure Montenegrina, and beautiful enough for the whole nation." And he spoke truth!
We now wandered away again towards a sort of native inn or khan, where he said we should get some good Vienna beer to wash away the taste of that abominable coffee. As we were passing some booths, where a variety of cheap Manchester goods were being displayed with some English Delft ware of the very commonest description, I was hailed with a "How d'ye do, stranger?" from a dapper, wide-awake-looking little man, who came out and spoke such excellent English that I took him to be a Briton or an American; but he was neither; he was a Dalmatian from Sebenico, who had been a great deal in England and America, and spoke English as fluently as his native Illyrian. I had a long chat with him, and asked him how trade was, and if he was doing well.
"No," he replied; "they don't know what trade is in these countries, they have too many restrictions; and yet," said he, "you won't go into the poorest cabin that you won't find one of these," handing me a wretched sample of English pottery with a vile brown pattern on it; "such is their preference for everything of English make."
Here Pero reminded me of the beer we had to drink, and that the time was drawing near when I was to present myself at the Palace for my audience. So we went off to the khan, where, having refreshed ourselves with some of Vienna's best, with a lump of virgin snow in it, I bid my guide good morning, and returned to the old Palace; when, having dressed myself, I crossed over to the new one to pay my respects to the Prince according to the orders received the day before.
Having penetrated through the outer gate, where the guards, I thought, looked rather scowlingly on my strange attire—viz., a dark blue frock coat, light grey trousers, and patent leather boots, the whole topped with my Indian quilted helmet—I ascended to the hall door by half a dozen steps, where I was met by the Prince's own henchman, a brother of the Commandant of the Grahovo. He was yet taller than his brother, and must have been at least six feet eight inches. I do not say this quite by guess-work, though I did not actually measure him; but on a subsequent occasion I did measure an immense Montenegrin, and found him six feet seven inches without heels, and the henchman was decidedly taller than he.
Well, pour revenir à nos moutons, I followed my Goliath into the hall, which is small and low, terminating in a double staircase, that bending round from each side joins again in the middle to form but one flight, at the top of which I found myself in a vestibule with two more guards on duty, and from that I was ushered into a fine large and well proportioned room, handsomely furnished in Viennese style, and hung all round with good portraits of the Prince's father, the celebrated Mirko, the Emperor and Empress of Russia, the Emperor and Empress of Austria, and many others.
Rooms open right and left off this. I was conducted into a smaller room to the right, where, after waiting for only a few seconds, the Prince came in. He addressed me in French, congratulating me on my courage for having ventured so far into his country, not on account of the difficulty of the road, "for all English are good mountaineers," but from the bad name the country has in Europe.