As the miles passed Jan slowly began
to dry, his temperature went up and his temper became better. The widow,
we discovered, was the relict of a Greek doctor who had died of typhus
in Plevlie, and she was returning to her native land.
Presently we came to a small inn, a hut like all others, and the driver
commanded us to get out. By this time we were accustomed to the sight of
nobles kissing market women relatives, and it did not surprise us to see
the officer embrace the rather dirty hostess of the inn and kiss all the
children; but when he took his place behind the bar and began to serve
the coffee!... It was a minute before we realized that he had not been
guarding the three letters and the circular, but merely was returning
home.
At the Montenegrin frontier, which was some hours on, a soldier asked us
for a lift, as though he could not see that we were already bulging at
all points with excess luggage; at the Serbian frontier Jan was asked
for his passport, and as they did not demand that of the widow, we
concluded that they imagined her to be Mrs.
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