“‘And there, my mila,’ he declared, with a shrewd, sinister smile, ‘your judgment is perhaps better than even you yourself suppose. Myself, I doubt he will be fool enough to come. At the last we shall be informed, with a grand flourish, that he is ‘indisposed.’ Not sick, you understand. Royalties are never sick. It is not etiquette. Peasants are sick. The middle-classes are ill. The great are only indisposed. Anything else is vulgar. Well, I hope he will know enough to stay away. Otherwise he may indeed become indisposed after his arrival.’
“‘What do you mean, Gavrilo?’ I asked.
“‘That the air of this place is not good for Austrian royalties just now,’ he said. ‘It is Serbian air. There are the germs of freedom in it, and such germs are more dangerous to autocrats than those of kuga,—cholera.’
“‘Be frank,’ I urged. ‘Do you mean that the Archduke’s life is threatened?’
“‘It is known,’ he replied, ‘that the governor has received warning letters. The Archduke is advised not to appear here on our holiday. One understands, moreover, that the Austrian secret police concur in this advice. Which shows that the filthy beasts are not so stupid as they might be.’
“‘Assure me, Gavrilo,’ Mara broke in, ‘that your comitajia has nought to do with this threat!’
“‘Long ago,’ he answered ‘I promised you that while you love me I will not actively participate in anything violent. You may be sure, Maro, mila, that I shall keep my word.’
“‘You keep your word always,’ she replied, ‘but these threats disturb me and I gain comfort from your reassurances.’
“Gavrilo walked slowly over and looked into the bird cage.
“‘You are certain, then, that you do requite my affection?’ he asked her over his shoulder.