* * * * * While hurrying towards Jougne, I tried to recall as much as I could the events of the last few days. It was not much. A month ago, at the beginning of my holidays, there had been the Grand Duke Ferdinand's assassination; it seemed a tragic incident and nothing more. A famous law-suit had diverted attention from it. Last Saturday, a sensational coup; a startling awakening: Austria's ultimatum to Serbia couched in terms very different from the usual courtesy shown in diplomatic notes. Relaxation had come during the following days, at least as far as I could see. The small State was giving in; councils of prudence from St. Petersburg had, without doubt, been received at Belgrade; everything seemed to be going to calm down; though the decision was to be referred to the arbitration of the Great Powers. But since, since!... How stupid it was that my papers should have failed me just these two days! To-day's not arriving! In seventy-two hours the world moves! What had Cipollina said? The whole of Europe in arms! A fact more novel than alarming. I suddenly brought to mind certain articles with pessimistic undercurrents. Certain coincidences occurred to me: the campaign for armaments, that belonged to last week; like the socialistic call to make a stand against war ... and the Government away! And England's difficulties! Supposing that, having considered all this "_They_" had judged the moment propitious? No. I smothered my agitation. We had come through so many of these critical times: Algeciras, Agadir, Saverne, Lunéville, Nancy.... The little Landry girl was right, we should have no more war, it was too terrible, too risky! The bells had stopped ringing their tumultuous peal, I attributed to their silence the virtue of an appeasement. I even smiled. I mocked at my fears. Oh, come now! The War, the Great War! Would it be likely to break out in such a way! I had reached the bottom of the valley. On my way I leaned over the Jougninaz, which had dwindled. It was the trout season! I would suggest a little fishing to my cousin one of these days. I thoughtlessly began to climb the sudden rise of the mountain. When I had reached the summit in a perspiration, I threw a friendly glance, by way of greeting, at the Aiguillon de Baume, and on the right at the bald summit of the Suchet, which we had reached the other night. I stopped to breathe for a moment. I should have smoothed my hair, and wiped the dust off my forehead if I had known I was to meet my pretty cousin Germaine, at her people's house, but she had rejoined her husband, a captain at Belfort, not long before. A few minutes later I passed through the railings. There was no one in the shade of the elders. I crossed the courtyard, and began to climb the stairs. My cousin's silhouette appeared on the landing above. "Who's there? Is it you, Michel?" "How are you?" I cried gaily. "Have you heard?" she called to me. "Heard what?" "War is declared."