“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 assassin, as one imagines such a man. “You mean to say,” asked the man by the window slowly, “that this very boy you’ve been telling us about was the one who shot the Archduke?” “Yes,” said the other, “he was Gavrilo Prinzip of Sarajevo.” “Good Lord!” exclaimed the third. “The boy who brought on the war!” “As we were saying earlier,” returned the one who had told the tale, “historians will doubtless trace the beginnings of the war to Gavrilo’s shot. Certainly Austria used the shot as her excuse, alleging that a plot to kill the Archduke had been hatched in Serbia—which was absolutely untrue, for Serbia was afraid of nothing so much as of giving offense to Austria, knowing well that Austria was only seeking a pretext to pounce upon her, precisely as she had earlier pounced upon Bosnia and Herzegovina, annexing them.” After a thoughtful pause he added: “Poor Gavrilo! I am glad to know that he is free at last. Like Mara’s starling, he was not one to live long in a cage. And it is perhaps because I was so fond of him, and also because Austria’s excuse was so transparently despicable, that I shall always go behind the shooting in thinking of the beginning of the war. As I conceive it, it was Mara’s anger that released Gavrilo from the promise which, otherwise, would have withheld him. And it was the death of the caged starling that brought on her anger. And it was the animalculæ that caused the bird’s death.” “That is,” put in the man by the window, “you prefer to trace the war down to such a small beginning as the death of that caged bird?” “Rather,” replied the other, “to a still smaller and more repulsive beginning—to the vermin which destroyed the bird. It seems to me I see them always crawling through the explanations, apologies, excuses, war messages, and peace overtures of the Teutonic autocrats.” AT ISHAM’S _By_ EDWARD C. VENABLE From _Scribner’s Magazine_ _Copyright, 1918, by Charles Scribner’s Sons._ _Copyright, 1919, by Edward C. Venable._