Then they sat down, with their chairs close, bashfully holding hands like a pair of lovers.
Then Rupert arose--he is Rupert now; no lesser name is on the lips of his people henceforth.

With an intense earnestness which seemed to glow in his face, he said simply: "What can I say except that I am in all ways, now and for ever, obedient to your wishes ?" Then, raising his handjar and holding it before him, he kissed the hilt, saying: "Hereby I swear to be honest and just--to be, God helping me, such a King as you would wish--in so far as the strength is given me.

Amen." This ended the business of the Session, and the Council showed unmeasured delight.

Again and again the handjars flashed, as the cheers rose "three times three" in British fashion.
When Rupert--I am told I must not write him down as "King Rupert" until after the formal crowning, which is ordained for Wednesday, October 16th,--and Teuta had withdrawn, the Voivode Peter Vissarion, the President and Council conferred in committee with the Presidents of the High Courts of National Law and of Justice as to the formalities to be observed in the crowning of the King, and of the formal notification to be given to foreign Powers.

These proceedings kept them far into the night.
FROM "_The London Messenger_." CORONATION FESTIVITIES OF THE BLUE MOUNTAINS.
(_From our Special Correspondent_.) PLAZAC, _October_ 14, 1907.
As I sat down to a poorly-equipped luncheon-table on board the Austro-Orient liner _Franz Joseph_, I mourned in my heart (and I may say incidentally in other portions of my internal economy) the comfort and gastronomic luxury of the King and Emperor Hotel at Trieste.