When I got on the coach the driver had not taken his seat, and I saw him talking with the landlady. They were evidently talking of me, for every now and then they looked at me, and some of the people who were sitting on the bench outside the door⁠—which they call by a name meaning “word-bearer”⁠—came and listened, and then looked at me, most of them pityingly. I could hear a lot of words often repeated, queer words, for there were many nationalities in the crowd; so I quietly got my polyglot dictionary from my bag and looked them out. I must say they were not cheering to me, for amongst them were “ Ordog ”⁠—Satan, “ pokol ”⁠—hell, “ stregoica ”⁠—witch, “ vrolok ” and “ vlkoslak ”⁠—both of which mean the same thing, one being Slovak and the other Serbian for something that is either werewolf or vampire. ( Mem. , I must ask the Count about these superstitions)