Bohemia will be mobilized first."

"A war!" exclaimed Mr. Anson, "and not a word about it beforehand! Why
this is a thunderbolt!"

John was thoughtful. The agent had made an amazing statement. It was, in
truth a thunderbolt, as Mr. Anson had said, and it came out of a
perfectly clear sky. He suddenly remembered little things, meaning
nothing at the time, but acquiring significance now, the curious actions
of Captain von Boehlen, the extraordinary demonstration at the return of
the Saxon king to his palace, and the warning words of the waiter. He
felt anew their loss in not knowing the language of the country and he
gave voice to it.

"If we'd been able to speak German we might have had some hint of this,"
he said.

"We'll learn German, and be ready for it the next time we come," said
Mr. Anson. "Now, John, in view of what we've heard, it would be unwise
to go to Prague. Have you anything else in mind?"

"Let's go straight to Vienna. It's a great capital, and it has so much
railroad communication that we could certainly get out of it, when we
want to do so. Besides, I'm bound to see the Danube."

"And your uncle, the Senator, is there. Well, we'll chance it and go to
Vienna. Can we get a train straight through to that city?"

"One leaves in an hour and is due at nine tonight," replied the agent to
whom he had addressed the question.

They bought the tickets, and when the Vienna express left the station
the two with their baggage were aboard it. John was by the window of
their compartment, watching the beautiful country. He loved rivers and
lakes and hills and mountains more than either ancient or modern cities,
and as they sped along the valley of the Elbe, often at the very edge of
the river, his mind and his eyes were content. His absorption in what
was flitting by the window kept him for some time from noticing what was
passing in the train. A low, but impatient exclamation from Mr. Anson
first drew his attention.

"I never saw such crowding before in a European train," said he. "This
compartment is marked for six, and already nine people have squeezed
into it."

"That's so," said John, "and there are men sitting on their valises in
the corridors. An enormously large proportion of them are officers, and
I've noticed that great crowds are gathered at every station we pass.
The Austrians seem to get a lot of excitement out of a war with a little
country like Servia, in which the odds in their favor are at le