A VISIT TO THE PRINCE 255 



After another hour of slow progress we passed 

 between two sentinel rocks on to a rough roadway, 

 evidently a track adapted more or less, rather less 

 than more, for wheel traffic. Clearly, this woodland 

 jaunt of ours was one of those " short cuts " which are 

 always the longest way round in the long run. 



The going became easier, for no trees blocked the way, 

 though the night was dark and starless. Our horses 

 seemed to know what they were about, and acted as if 

 the manger was at hand. 



A black shadow loomed against a rocky eminence, 

 and a stone entrance, very ruinous, outlined its arch 

 against the gleam of torches held aloft by a silent 

 group of wild-eyed peasants dressed in the robe coat 

 now so familiar. The lurid flare shone on fierce 

 unsmiling faces, and made a pathway of light to guide 

 us to a high stone embrasure, where the Prince stood 

 waiting to receive us. He looked a fitting master for 

 such a primitive feudal stronghold. 



" Hail ! Thane of Cawdor ! " said Cecily laughingly. 

 " I feel exactly as if I had suddenly fallen into the 

 Macbeth era." 



Our host gazed at her blankly. The Immortal One 

 is not of the immortals of the Caucasus. 



The rooms for our use were down cold, hollow- 

 sounding, narrow, stone passages, and were furnished 

 on the Maple system of decoration, not Macbeth. 

 Thanks be ! 



The establishment was becoming Russianized, and 

 its master no longer fed with his retainers, as 

 was the custom with the chieftains of old time, but 



