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"The Luck of Thirteen Wanderings and Flight through Montenegro and Serbia"


The longer we rested in San Giovanni the more hopeless seemed the chance
of getting away from it. The Serbian Government was close on our heels,
and once they caught us up, there would be little left for us. That
evening we were sitting with the Frenchmen, it was Monday. They, too,
were depressed, and at last Tweedledum said--
"We shall never reach Paris, we shall be here for ever and ever."
"Oh," said Jan, rashly, "I think we ought to be home in a week."
Dum put on the superior French air, which is aggravating even in a nice
man.
"Vous croyez?" he said.
"I'll bet on it," said Jan.
"A dinner," answered Dum.
"Good," said Jan.
This lent a new interest to life.
The very next day the Frenchmen told us that the Serb Government had
arrived at Scutari; the Montenegrin Governor had telegraphed to
commandeer and keep back the _Benedetto_. We had been forgotten, and the
French boat was to leave at dawn under escort.
She had been strictly forbidden by her owners to take passengers, but
the Frenchmen had arranged through their minister to go by that boat if
she left the first.


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