The Best Short Stories of 1918 Part 51

"For a time we stood in silence, regarding it through the bars. I knew that Gavrilo and Mara were filled with emotion, and for my own part I was surprised to discover how much the death of the bird seemed to mean to me. When, a day or two before, they had spoken of symbolism in connection with the _kos_, I knew what they meant, but did not feel it: yet now I felt it strongly, as though I myself were a Serb, with a Serb's vision and superst.i.tion. It was not a dead bird that I saw, but a climax in a parable-a story of scriptural flavor, fraught with uncanny meaning.

"Gavrilo was the first to speak.

"'Poor _kos_!' he said in a low, tragic tone. 'It is free at last. It was written that it should not be captive when to-morrow dawns.'

"'What do you mean?' demanded Mara.

"'I told you it was destined to die unless you let it go,' he answered gently.

"'And as I would not let it go,' she retorted, 'you desired that it should die, in accordance with your prophecy! Yes, that is it! You made it die! You placed the leaves of henbane in its cage and killed it!'

"'You are excited, Maro,' he returned. 'You must know that I desired the poor bird to live. Let us dig a little grave here in the garden and bury it, and cease to speak of it until we are calmer. We are overwrought-both of us-because of the bitterness of to-morrow. Where is the spade?'

"'Do not touch the _kos_!' she commanded: 'It shall not be buried yet.'

"'Why not?' I interposed. 'It will be better for us all.'

"'The old bird man comes this evening,' Mara flung back. 'He will look at the bird and know that Gavrilo has poisoned it with henbane.'

"'But, Maro,' I returned, 'Gavrilo has said that he did not. You know that he is truthful.'

"'His words mean nothing!' she cried. 'Am I not a Serb? Do I not read the meanings in events? Gavrilo lies. Gavrilo killed the _kos_. He is a murderer. I hate him!'

"'Ah!' he exclaimed. 'You give me the truth at last!'

"'Yes, the truth!'

"'So much the better that I know in time!' cried Gavrilo, and without another word he ran frantically from the garden.

"As for Mara, she seemed almost on the brink of madness. I do not know how long I remained there trying to reason with her, calm her, make her see the folly and danger of what she had done. By the time her pa.s.sion had abated the late June twilight had settled over the town. Presently I heard the garden gate open, and a moment later a venerable Serb appeared.

"'Wait!' Mara said to me. 'Now you shall learn that I was right!'

"Then, to the old man, she said: 'You are too late to cure my bird, but you are not too late to tell me from what cause came its death. Look at this leaf that was placed in its cage. Is not that the henbane?'

"The old man took the leaf, inspected it, and shook his head.

"'No,' said he. 'Let me see the bird.'

"'It lies there in the cage.'

"He opened the cage door and, reaching in, removed the little body.

"'Ah,' he said, 'a _kos_. Do you not know, my child, that birds of this species cannot long survive captivity?'

"Mara hung her head.

"'I have heard it said,' she answered in a low voice.

"'To imprison wild birds is cruel,' remarked the old bird man. 'These birds, in particular, are the Serbs of the air. They are descended from birds that saw the field of Kossovo. They desire only to be free.' Then, as Mara did not reply, he said: 'Bring a light.'

"She went into the house and emerged with a lamp, placing it upon a table near the door. The old bird man sat down beside the table and, holding the bird near the light, brushed back the soft plumage of its breast, much in the manner of peasant mothers whom one sees, occasionally, searching with unpleasant suggestiveness in their children's hair.

"'Look,' he said, 'the bird would have died of these, even had it survived captivity. It is covered with animalculae. In a cage it could not rid itself of them as nature enables free creatures to do.'

"Looking at the bird's breast, Mara and I could see the deadly vermin.

"'Give me a spade,' said the old man. 'I will inter the bird here in the garden.'

"Mara indicated a spade leaning against the wall. Then, turning with beseeching eyes to me, she seized both my hands, and said in a low, intense voice:

"'Go, I pray you, and find Gavrilo! Tell him that I implore his forgiveness. Say that I love him better than all the world and ask only that he come to me at once.'

"I went directly to the hotel and to Gavrilo's room. He was not there.

No one about the place had seen him. I then went to the _kafana_ which I knew he patronized, but the proprietor declared that he knew nothing of his whereabouts. Through the remainder of the evening I diligently searched the town, going to the houses of all his friends, but nowhere could I find a trace of him. Obliged at last to acknowledge myself defeated, I returned to the hotel. Several times during the night I arose and stole to his room, but daylight came without his putting in an appearance. Early in the morning I went again to the _kafana_, but though I learned there that the Archduke had arrived the night before with his wife and his suite, and was housed at the governor's palace, I got no word of the missing boy. Wherefore, after breakfast, it became my unpleasant duty to go to Mara, inform her of my failure, and comfort her as best I might.

"She looked ill and terrified. I wished that she would weep.

"Thinking perhaps to find him in the central square of the town before the Archduke, the governor, and the other officials set out for the review, I was moving in that direction when there came to my ears the dull sound of an explosion. Continuing on my way, I encountered as I rounded the next corner a scattering crowd of men, women, and children, running toward me, in the street.

"I asked two or three of them what had happened, but they ran on without reply. Presently, among them, I saw one of the youths with whom I had several times seen Gavrilo, and him I seized by the coat, demanding information.

"'Let me go!' he cried. 'Some one threw a bomb into the Archduke's carriage! They are arresting everyone. Get away!' And he tugged violently to escape my hold.

"'Have you seen Gavrilo?'

"'Not to-day.'

"'Is the Archduke dead?'

"'No. He warded off the bomb and it exploded beneath the carriage which followed. For G.o.d's sake, release me!'

"I did so, and walked on toward the square. Halfway down the block I met some Austrian police. After questioning me briefly they let me go, whereafter I questioned them. The horses drawing the second carriage had been killed, they said, and some officers of the archducal suite injured. The Archduke, however, insisted upon continuing to the review and would presently pa.s.s. They advised me to return to my hotel.

"I had hardly reached my room when I heard a bugle and the clatter of hoofs outside. Going to the window, I saw mounted men of the Royal Austrian Guard advancing around the corner. Behind them, between double rows of cavalry, came several landaus, carrying outriders, and driven by coachmen in white wigs and knee breeches. As the first of these vehicles came nearer, I saw that the occupants of the back seat were Francis Ferdinand, Archduke of Austria, heir apparent to the throne of Austria-Hungary, and his morganatic wife, the d.u.c.h.ess of Hohenberg.

"The shutters of most of the houses were closed, but in a few windows I saw faces, and there were scattered knots of people on the sidewalks, closely watched by the policemen who rode ahead on horses and bicycles.

As the archducal carriage came along, hats were raised, and once or twice I heard faint cheering, which the Archduke and his consort acknowledged, he by touching the visor of his helmet, she by inclining her head.

"As their carriage came below my window and I saw the expression of condescending good will frozen on both their faces, and thought of the constant apprehension there must be behind those polite masks, it struck me as amazing that a man and woman could be found, in these times, to play the royal part.

"As I was thinking thus I saw a dark-clad figure dart out suddenly from somewhere on the sidewalk, below, pa.s.s swiftly between the horses of the bodyguard, and reach the side of the royal carriage. Some of the guardsmen leaped at once from their horses and there was a dash of policemen toward the man, but before anyone laid hands upon him he raised one arm, as though pointing accusingly at the Archduke and his Countess, and there followed, in swift succession, two sharp reports.

"I saw the royal pair fall forward. Simultaneously the carriage stopped and was at once surrounded by an agitated group of soldiers, policemen, and servants; while another and more violent group pressed about the individual who had fired the shots, beating him as they swept him away down the street. Before they had gone a dozen yards, however, a high official, who had jumped out of the second carriage, ran up and directed them to take the man to the sidewalk. This brought the crowd in my direction, and it was only as they turned toward me that I caught a glimpse of the face of their prisoner. As I had dreaded, it was poor Gavrilo."

For a moment all of us were too thunderstruck to speak. Somehow the picture he had given us did not seem to be that of an a.s.sa.s.sin, as one imagines such a man.