n the
shadow of an excuse for remaining neutral.

So what the newspapers printed of the threats that Austria was making
against Servia was carefully censored. There was nothing to show that
Austria was assuming a warlike attitude, and that Russia, the friend of
the little Slav countries in the Balkans, was getting ready to take the
part of Servia. There was nothing to show what the French government
and every newspaper editor in Paris knew must be a fact--that Austria
must have had assurance of German support, since she could not hope to
make a winning fight, unaided, against the huge might of Russia.

That was why all over France life proceeded in the regular way, calm,
peaceful, without event. Some there were who knew that Europe was closer
to a general war than since the end of Napoleon's dream of conquest. But
the masses of the people did not know it. All over France the soldiers
were active; the new recruits, reporting for the beginning of their
three years of military service, were pouring into the depots, the
headquarters of the army corps, to be assigned to their regiments. But
that was something that happened every year. In a country where every
man, if he is not a cripple or diseased, has to be a soldier for three
years, the sight of a uniform, even of a long column of marching troops,
means nothing.

And then, with the most startling abruptness, there came a change.
Nothing official, as yet. But suddenly the government allowed the real
news, or most of it, to be printed. Austria had made demands of Servia
that no country could meet! Russia had protested! Russia and Austria
were mobilizing! Germany had sent an ultimatum to Russia, demanding that
she stop massing her troops in Poland and on the borders of East
Prussia.

"It means war," said Henri Martin to Frank. Gone was the exultation of
his voice. Frank had noticed that, since the first appearance of the
really ominous news, the excitability of his French schoolmates had
disappeared. They were quiet; far quieter than American boys would have
been in the same case, he thought.

"But this is not France's quarrel," said Frank. "She cares nothing for
Servia."

"Servia? Bah! No one cares for Servia--except Austria and Russia! Servia
is only an excuse. Austria wants to get some ports and Russia wants
them, too, or wants a friendly country to have them. But I will tell
you why it means war, Frank, my friend. It is because Guillaume, their
Kaiser, thinks it