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"Yes, at six o'clock Belgrade time. "
There were ten demands. The first three followed the lines Walter had anticipated, he saw with relief: Serbia had to suppress liberal newspapers, break up the secret society called the Black Hand, and clamp down on nationalist propaganda. Perhaps the moderates in Vienna had won the argument after all, he thought gratefully.
Point four seemed reasonable at first-the Austrians demanded a purge of nationalists in the Serbian civil service-but there was a sting in the tail: the Austrians would supply the names. "That seems a bit strong," Walter said anxiously. "The Serbian government can't just sack everyone the Austrians tell them to. "
Robert shrugged. "They will have to. "
"I suppose so. " For the sake of peace, Walter hoped they would.
But there was worse to come.
Point five demanded that Austria assist the Serbian government in crushing subversion, and point six, Walter read with dismay, insisted that Austrian officials take part in Serbia's judicial inquiry into the assassination. "But Serbia can't agree to this!" Walter protested. "It would amount to giving up their sovereignty. "
Robert's face darkened further. "Hardly," he said peevishly.
"No country in the world could agree to it. "
"Serbia will. It must, or be destroyed. "
"In a war?"
"If necessary. "
"Which could engulf all of Europe!"
Robert wagged his finger. "Not if other governments are sensible. "
Unlike yours, Walter thought, but he bit back the retort and read on. The remaining points were arrogantly expressed, but the Serbs could probably live with them: arrest of conspirators, prevention of smuggling of weapons into Austrian territory, and a clampdown on anti-Austrian pronouncements by Serbian officials.
But there was a forty-eight-hour deadline for reply.
"My God, this is harsh," said Walter.
"People who defy the Austrian emperor must expect harshness. "
"I know, I know, but he hasn't even given them room to save face. "
"Why should he?"
Walter let his exasperation show. "For goodness' sake, does he want war?"
"The emperor's family, the Habsburg dynasty, has governed vast areas of Europe for hundreds of years. Emperor Franz Joseph knows that God intends him to rule over inferior Slavic peoples. This is his destiny. "
"God spare us from men of destiny," Walter muttered. "Has my embassy seen this?"
"They will any minute now. "
Walter wondered how others would react. Would they accept this, as Robert had, or be outraged like Walter? Would there be an international howl of protest or just a helpless diplomatic shrug? He would find out this evening. He looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. "I'm late for dinner. Are you going to the Duchess of Sussex's ball later?"
"Yes. I'll see you there. "
They left the building and parted company in Piccadilly. Walter headed for Fitz's house, where he was to dine. He felt breathless, as if he had been knocked down. The war he dreaded had come dangerously closer.
He arrived with just enough time to bow to Princess Bea, in a lavender gown festooned with silk bows, and shake hands with Fitz, impossibly handsome in a wing collar and a white bow tie; then dinner was announced. He was glad to find himself assigned to escort Maud through to the dining room. She wore a dark red dress of some soft material that clung to her body the way Walter wanted to. As he held her chair he said: "What a very attractive gown. "
"Paul Poiret," she said, naming a designer so famous that even Walter had heard of him. She lowered her voice a little. "I thought you might like it. "
The remark was only mildly intimate, but all the same it gave him a thrill, rapidly followed by a shiver of fear at the thought that he could yet lose this enchanting woman.
