I was delighted at seeing him again; we all dined together, and enjoyed ourselves immensely notwithstanding the heat. After dinner, Pero Pejovich pulled out from among the ample folds of his sash some Trebigne tobacco, which had never seen the countenance of a Custom House officer, and we set to work to make cigarettes, when we were joined by Signor Jackschich and Signor Radanovich, the Prince's Agent at Cattaro. Coffee and maraschino were brought out, fresh relays of cigarettes were manufactured, and we could have enjoyed ourselves for hours more, but the inexorable bell of the steamer rang out a summons that bade Mr. Yonin prepare for departure, while the increasing darkness served to remind myself that I had yet a journey before me ere I should be able to lie down to rest.
We stood up reluctantly, and in a body accompanied the Russian Consul to the steamer, and there bade him adieu, probably for ever; though who can tell? I have had at times the most unexpected _rencontres_ in the most unlikely places. I first met him at Ragusa, where also I made my first acquaintance with Mr. Paton, now unfortunately no more; both very able and highly educated men, yet they seemed not to appreciate each other as they might have done, perhaps from the diametrical opposition of their political views.
Poor Paton is lost to us for ever, and we shall never have a better member of our Consular service; a shrewd, sagacious man, and a first-rate Oriental scholar.
As to Mr. Yonin, I trust I may yet meet him, and renew some of the pleasant hours I spent with him.
BEAUTIFUL ROAD—ATTACK OF FEVER—ARRIVAL AT BUDUA—BARON HEYDEG AND SIGNOR MARCO MEDIN—A RESTAURANT—OUR HOST—DOCTOR, DENTIST AND APOTHECARY—WALK ROUND THE FORTIFICATIONS—EXPLORATION OF BUDUA—THE PARTING GLASS.
The twilight of Cattaro was fast merging into darkness when I returned with my companions to the esplanade, where my horses were ready to take me on to Budua. Our adieux were short but cordial, and in a few minutes I was cantering away in company with Signor Jackschich, who lives in a villa a couple of miles away from Cattaro.
If the tracks and paths of Montenegro are rugged and wild, the beautiful road we were now travelling on made ample amends for the discomfort I had endured in riding during the last few days. As we passed Signor Jackschich's villa, I insisted on his remaining there, or his courtesy would have induced him to keep me company ever so much further on; so wishing him adieu for the twentieth time, I lit my cigar, and sticking spurs into my pony, cantered away on my road to Budua. The ride was not interesting. I started too late; I should have remembered that in those latitudes, except at Cattaro, there is no twilight.