“Well, my advice is, don’t think of going there. If you do, you will never return. You’ll be shot at sight, like a dog. You have no idea what those uncivilised tribes are like. The whole country is utterly lawless.” “So I understand. But I’ve also heard that the Albanian possesses a deep sense of honour. And I thought that I might possibly obtain permission from one or other of the chiefs.” The Prince was silent for a moment. Then, looking at me across the table, said— “Do not go. It is far too great a risk.” His advice was the same that my friends in London had given me; the same that I had received there, in the marketplace of Cettinje. But I was determined, and pressed His Royal Highness to assist me, at last receiving his promise of help. By his kind permission, the Albanian named Palok acted as my guide, and what eventually happened to me in that wild region will be seen in the following pages. “Well,” exclaimed the Prince at last,“if you go up there, it must be at your own risk. I’ve warned you of the danger. No one has been up there for many years. It has been attempted, of course, but travellers have either been held to ransom, and the Turks have been compelled to pay for their release, or else they have simply been shot by the first Albanian meeting them. The country beyond Scutari is the most unsafe in the whole Balkan Peninsula.” [Illustration: Mr. CHAS. DES GRAZ, British Chargé d’Affaires at Cettinje. ] [Illustration: The Piazza: Ragusa.] I replied that I intended to make the attempt. “Well, then, I wish you _buon viaggio_,” he laughed. “May every good luck attend you, and—as we say in Montenegro—_S’bogom!_ (God be with you!) When you return—for I suppose you will pass this way down to the sea—come and see me, and tell me all about the Skreli and Kastrati country—for of course I am highly interested. They are always at war with our people on the frontier.” “I will let your Royal Highness know the moment I am back in Cettinje,” I promised. Then rising, he gripped my hand warmly, saying— “Then I will help you if I can. Be careful of yourself, for I shall be anxious about you. Again, _S’bogom!_” And the Prince accompanied me to the head of the grand staircase, where I made my obeisance, turned and descended through the rows of armed and bowing servants ranged in the hall, charmed by His Royal Highness’s graciousness towards me and by the pleasant chat I had enjoyed. When, after my journey through Northern Albania, I one afternoon re-entered that audience-chamber, and he came forward with outstretched hand to greet me, he exclaimed—