-like Prince, realizing that it would be impossible for him to
return to his native land, secured himself against the future by
selling, through a couple of confidential agents, his real estate to
the Austrians. He likewise disposed of a good deal of forest which is
alleged to have belonged not to him but to the State, and when his
father heard of the resulting sum of a hundred million francs he was
exceedingly annoyed that this robbery and trafficking with the enemy
during the War had only replenished Danilo's and not his own
exchequer. When his political opponents heard of these transactions he
denied, over and over again, that they had taken place; but we have
his autograph letter on the subject to Danilo. Before the King left
Montenegro he found another opportunity for a grandiose attitude. He
appeared at Podgorica where he made an eloquent speech, exhorting his
people to march on the morrow against the hated Austrian and assuring
them that their old King would fire the first shot, whereas he
decamped in the night for Scutari, which is in the opposite direction.
He and the Queen, Prince Peter and Miu[vs]kevi['c], the Premier, fled
the country; while Prince Mirko, the remainder of the Cabinet, the
National Assembly and--above all--the army had instructions to remain
behind. How much easier it would have been for his army than for the
Serbs to reach Corfu. But this terrible old man delivered 50,000 of
the best Yugoslav soldiers to the enemy. On January 21 he sailed away.
I do not know if anybody sang the National Anthem--"Onamo! Onamo!"
["Yonder! Yonder!"]--which in his youth Nikita had himself composed.
And a few years later when the gallant Montenegrins could again lift
up their voices and sing "Onamo!" how many of them thought of him who
was skulking and of course intriguing yonder in France.

We have alluded to the treatment which in their distress the Serbs
received from their Italian Allies; but in Albania the Italian army
did render a certain amount of assistance--every day at eleven o'clock
the Austrian aeroplanes would reach Durazzo, and the Italian soldiers,
sentries and all, would rush helter-skelter from the plentiful food to
which they were just sitting down. The Serbs, many of them, after
their privations, looking like grey ghosts, were always in the
neighbourhood of the Italian barracks and very glad they were to see
those aeroplanes which permitted them to enter in and enjoy a
bounteous meal. When the