obliging?"

The American doctors and we picnicked together. We ate bully beef and a
huge water melon. The heat was awful. The velvet seats seemed to invade
one's body and come through at the other side. One of the doctors sat on
the step of the train, and Jo found him nodding and smiling as he
dreamt. She rescued him before he fell off.

After twelve hours they left us. Uskub once more and an hour to wait. We
sat behind trees in boxes on the platform and ate omelet with a nice
old Jew and his ten-year-old daughter, who already spoke five languages.

Then to sleep. We found our half coupé contained a second seat which
could be pulled down, so we each had a bed. At four in the morning we
were awakened by the most awful imitation of a German band.

What had happened? We looked out. It was barely dawn, and a wretched
little orchestra was grouped at the edge of the tiny station. Every
instrument was cracked and was tuned one-sixteenth tone different from
its companions. What it lacked in musical ability it made up in energy.

Why, oh, _why_ at that hour, we never found out. Perhaps it was in
honour of the Princess, poor lady!

[Illustration]




CHAPTER III