against us, and in a day or two we
were to see things.

That decided the matter. We went to the prefect's office for our pass.
Firstly, we were ushered into a room occupied by a man in khaki, whose
accent betrayed that he hailed from the States. He was "something
sanitary," and belonged to the American commission, so we tried again.
This time the porter took us up to a landing, said a few words into a
doorway, and left us standing. As he was wandering in our vicinity, Jo
tried one of her two talismans: it is the word "PREPOSTEROUS"
ejaculated explosively, and is safely calculated to stagger a foreign
soul. The other is a well-known dodge. If a person bothers you, look at
his boots with a pained expression. He will soon take himself off--boots
and all.

The talisman worked, the pass was quickly managed, and we had but to
spend our time among the shops again. We resisted the seductions of an
old man with fifty knives in his belt, who reminded Jo of a horrible
nightmare of her infancy.

In her dream a grandfather with a basket had come peddling. Suddenly his
coat, blowing aside, revealed not a body, but a busy sewing-machine in
excellent working order. In her agitation, Jo fell out of bed.

We sat consuming beer outside a cafe decked with pink flowered bushes in
green boxes. One of the antique dames who cook sausages in the shadow of
the cafes brought us a plate each--funny little hard things--and we
bought cakes and nougat from perambulating Peter Piemen.

The station platform was like the last scene of a pantomime. Every one
we had met on our journeys rushed up and shook us by the hand.

First a Belgian doctor, from Dr. Lilias Hamilton's unit in Podgoritza.
He said Mrs. G. was also in the town, and that the others were all
coming shortly. Then we met a young staff officer from Uzhitze, who was
noted for his bravery. The train came in and we stumbled up to it in the
dark. There was a crowd of women about the steps in difficulty with
heavy bags. Jan ran forward to help one. She turned round. It was a
sister from Dechani. The rest turned round. It was the whole Russian
mission from Dechani.

We proceeded along the corridor, and ran into two men. We mutually began
to apologize.

"Hello," we said, "how did you get here?" They were two Americans we had
met in Salonika.

We got our seats and went out of the train by the other door. As we
passed the compartment we saw a familiar face. It was the little French
courie