“‘You mean about—?’ I had almost said ‘about the bird,’ but fortunately he interrupted, exclaiming:
“‘Yes, about the festival.’
“‘What tidings?’ demanded Mara.
“Gavrilo threw his arms above his head in a gesture of helpless fury.
“‘Those proclete shvaba!’ he burst out. ‘They issued an edict only an hour ago, forbidding entirely our festival of Vidov-dan!’
“‘No!’ cried Mara, dismayed, half rising from her seat.
“‘Yes. There shall be no celebration—not for the Serbs. Nothing! Attempts to commemorate the anniversary will result in arrest. It is announced that in place of our festival there will upon that day be extensive maneuvers of the Austrian army and that Grand Headquarters will be here in our city. We are given to understand that the Archduke himself will come and hold the review. Could anything be devised more to insult us upon our national holiday? Oh, of what vile tricks are not these accursed shvaba capable?’
“‘I am surprised,’ I said, ‘that the Archduke would be party to a thing of this kind, for it is understood that he is pro-Serb. Certainly his wife is a Slav.’
“‘The more shame to her, then, for marrying him,’ said Gavrilo, with a shrug. ‘He is the spawn, of an autocrat who is in turn the spawn of generations of autocrats. Scratch them and they are all the same. They play the game of empire—the dirty game of holding together, against their will, the people of seven races in Austria-Hungary; grinding them down, humiliating them, keeping them afraid. No man, no group of men, should have such power! It is medieval, grotesque, wicked!’
“‘More than that,’ put in Mara, ‘it is unwise. They take a poor way to gain favor with us Serbs. For my part, I do not think it safe for the Archduke to come here.’