"Good heavens, how terrible!" cried Nancy presently.
"Ghastly beyond words," was Bob's reply. "It has come like a thunderbolt. As I told you, I did not look at my paper this morning, and, as I have not been to St. Ia to-day, I saw no announcements."
"And our papers were late this morning. I have not seen them," rejoined Nancy. "Fancy the grief of the poor old Emperor! Who did it?—and why was it done?"
"Evidently it was done by two young men, both anarchists, and both said to be Servians."
"Aren't these anarchists terrible? No king or queen in Europe seems to be safe."
"This doesn't appear to have been done by anarchists in the usual sense of the term after all," said Bob, who hastily scanned the paper. "It seems there are suspicions of political causes. This paper suggests that these fellows were agents of the Servian Government, who have a special grudge against the Archduke Francis Ferdinand, who was heir-presumptive to the Austrian Throne. Are you interested in European politics, Nancy?"
"Not a bit. I always skip foreign news."
"If it is as this paper suggests, it might lead to serious complications. You see, it was hoped by the Servians that at the close of the Balkan War they would be able to obtain a naval port on the Adriatic, and it is said they would have got it but for the Archduke. It is also commonly believed that a School of Servian Patriots have for years been struggling to make Bosnia and Herzegovina part of Greater Servia, owing to the preponderance of Serb population. These two provinces, in spite of Russia, belong to Austria."
"I suppose the Servians are awful people. Always quarrelling and fighting, and that kind of thing," and Nancy crept closer to Bob as she spoke.
"It's a wonderfully interesting part of Europe, although it was so little known before the war of the Balkan States with the Turks. I say, Nancy, wouldn't it be fun to go there for our honeymoon?"