e-minded Alexander, she was too stupid to realize
that her only chance lay in gaining the popularity of the people who
were none too well disposed. With incredible folly, before in any
way consolidating her position, she formed a plot worthy only of a
second-rate cinematograph, pretended pregnancy and planned to foist
a "supposititious child" upon the nation. A plan, foredoomed by its
folly to failure, which brought down on her the contempt and
ridicule not only of Serbia, but of all Europe. Such was the history
of Serbia up to the date when I plunged into it and found it on the
verge of a crisis.

CHAPTER SEVEN

1903 AND WHAT HAPPENED

For Leagues within a State are ever pernicious to Monarchic.

Early in 1903 I received an invitation to stay with certain of the
partisans of the Karageorgevitches in Serbia. The "something" that
was to happen had not yet come to pass. My sister wished to travel
with me, and my experiences of last year were not such as to lead me
to take her to Serbia. One takes risks without hesitation when
alone, into which one cannot drag a comrade. We went to Montenegro.
It was hot even at Cetinje. We were resting in one of the back
bedrooms of the hotel on the afternoon of June 11, when there came a
loud knocking at the door and the voice of Ivan, the waiter, crying
"telegramme, telegramme." We jumped up at once, fearing bad news,
and Stvane cried excitedly as I opened the door, "The King and Queen
of Serbia are both dead!" My brain re-acted instantly. The
"something" had happened, the crisis had come. Without pausing a
minute to reflect, I said: "Then Petar Karageorgevitch will be
King!"

"No, no," cried Ivan; "Every one says it will be our Prince Mirko!"
"No," said I decidedly, for I was quite certain, "It will not be
Mirko"; and I asked "How did they die?"

"God knows," said he; "some say they quarrelled and one shot the
other and then committed suicide. And it will be Mirko, Gospodjitza.
There was an article in the paper about it only the other day." He
ran off and fetched a paper. I regret now that I took no note what
paper it was, but it certainly contained an article naming Mirko as
heir to the Serb throne, supposing Alexander to die without issue.

Cetinje was excited as never before. Ordinarily, it lived on one
telegram a day from the Correspondenz Bureau. Now the boys ran to
and fro the telegraph office and bulletins poured in. One of the
earliest stated that the King and Que