The trial lasted over a month. This is no joke in a sweltering Montenegrin summer, and both judges and prisoners must have heaved sighs of relief when every witness was heard and the suspense was nearly over. Six were condemned to death, but only two of these, Chulavitch and Voivoditch, were in custody; the others had escaped abroad. Raikovitch and the Minister Radovitch were sentenced to fifteen years’ imprisonment. Thirteen others received sentences varying from two to ten years, and several were discharged either because they were innocent or from lack of proof. [Illustration: A WARDER, WITH THE HEAVY CHAINS AND ANKLET WORN BY PRISONERS. _From a Photograph._] I was interested in visiting the prisons of Cetinje and Podgoritza. Both are very small, which speaks well for the state of the country. Few murders are committed, and these are rarely for gain, but usually acts of revenge. The men concerned in the plot were confined at Cetinje, in a small and somewhat primitive building, but when they had been sentenced they were removed to Podgoritza. Both prisons are built round a courtyard in which exercise can be taken, for the doors of the light and roomy cells were open all day long. Nearly every cell contained an oven, and the prisoners were allowed to cook their food themselves. The daily rations consisted of two pounds of bread and the sum of fourpence, with which they could buy what they liked. I was taken over the place by the Governor, a very kindly-looking giant, who seemed as if he could not hurt a fly. If I am ever unlucky enough to be put under lock and key, I should like to have a jailer just like him. He and a Montenegrin officer, who spoke most excellent French, were very kind in helping me to take photographs. Some of the prisoners wore irons which I rather wanted to photograph, but they thought it might hurt the men’s feelings, so they offered to lend me a jailer to be manacled and snap-shotted. He thought it the greatest joke in the world, and quite entered into the spirit of it all. Just as I was about to press the button he gesticulated wildly. He had remembered that there was a little collection of a dozen or so weapons of warfare in his capacious belt, and these were not at all in keeping with the irons. So he pulled out daggers and pistols galore, and looked quite thin by the time he had finished.