"No," Princip said.
"Even in our country the Prime Minister uses the lie of moderation to keep himself in power. Did you know that?"
"I have heard of it."
"Are you ready to fight such liars with all means?"
"Yes."
"Are the three of you ready?"
"Yes."
Pause.
"You may go into the next room."
The next room was lit by a single candle on a table draped in black, against walls also draped in black. The candle flickered at three men sitting behind the table in black robes and black hoods. Before them, arranged in a circle around the flame, lay an unsheathed dagger, a skull, a crucifix, a revolver, a bottle with a death's head label. This was the altar of Smrt ili Zivot, the Bosnian arm of Colonel Apis's Black Hand.
The black hood in the middle motioned the three youths to step forward. Line by line he began to recite the oath, which they repeated after him, line by line:
"I swear by the holiness of the cross…"
"I swear by the preciousness of liberty…"
"I swear by the sun that warms me. "
"And the earth that nourishes me…"
`7 swear by God in heaven. "
"By my ancestors' blood…"
"By my honor and my life…"
"As true as I am a Serb and a man. "
"That from this day on until the moment of my death…"
"I shall remain faithful to every law of this organization…"
" I shall be ever r e a d y to s a c r i f i c e f o r it…"
"To suffer for it. "
" T o die f o r it…"
"And I swear to take all its secrets with me to the grave…"
The hooded men rose to their feet. Each man reached into the pocket of his black robe. Each pulled out a little cardboard box. Each box contained a capsule of cyanide. The three hooded men handed the three little boxes to the three youths. Each of the hooded three embraced each of the youths. Not another word was spoken. The candle was blown out. The three hooded men remained in the dark. The three youths groped toward the door.
The next morning, on Thursday, May 28, 1914, Princip and his two companions boarded a steamer anchored at a Bel grade dock. They carried small suitcases and wore loose overcoats. Under his coat, each of the three had two bombs tied around his waist. Each also carried a revolver in one trouser pocket, ammunition in a second pocket, and in a third, instantly handy, the capsule of cyanide.
It was a misty, sleepy day. Slowly the ship began to plow upstream on the river Sava, westward toward Sarajevo.
Eight days later, on June 5, his excellency Jovan Jovanovic, the Serbian envoy to Vienna, bowed himself into the gold-onwhite rococo of the office of the Habsburg Minister of Finance Leon von Bilinski. For intricate Viennese reasons Bilinski doubled as Minister in charge of the Austrian province of Bosnia-Hercegovina; in that capacity he ushered his visitor to a chair. Bosnia abutted on Serbia, and the visitor had come on a queasy errand.
After an exchange of courtesies all the more elaborate for the tension between the two countries, Jovanovic ceremonially cleared his throat. It was his duty, he said, to express a certain concern of the Royal Serb Government, namely the forthcoming participation of His Imperial Highness the Arch duke Franz Ferdinand at Austrian Army exercises to be held in the Sarajevo area. Since these exercises were to take place in territory adjacent to Serbia and since they coincided with Serbia's National Day, they might provoke some regrettable actions.
"Regrettable actions?" the Austrian asked.
Yes, very regrettable, the Serbian envoy said. Under the circumstances an Austrian Army soldier of the Serb race might be misled into loading his rifle with real bullets to aim it at His Imperial Highness. Therefore the Serbian government earnestly hoped that the Austrian government would want to shift both the time and the place of the maneuvers.
It was Count von Bilinski's turn to do some throat-clearing. He replied that, first of all, the police reported peace and quiet in Bosnia, including the Bosnian capital Sarajevo. Furthermore the army exercises would take place nowhere near the Serbian border. Lastly, he had no doubt whatsoever that His Imperial Highness, the Archduke Crown Prince, enjoyed the full loyalty of the entire Austrian Armed Forces. Or did his Excellency have specific information to the contrary?
The Serbian envoy said, no, he could offer nothing specific. The concern of the Serbian Government simply reflected the general mood of the Serbian people.
Count von Bilinski gave a civil nod. His Excellency's remarks, he said, would receive the consideration they deserved. Meanwhile he was grateful to His Excellency for taking the trouble to visit him on such a lovely day. The Serbian envoy, on his part, thanked the Minister for extending him so gracious a reception. And the mendacities of etiquette continued until the gold-on-white doors closed on the encounter.
***
Of course the envoy's visit had been prompted by some quite specific information. It had been relayed to Serbia's premier Panic by his Minister of the Interior: A contact at the frontier had reported that on the night from June 1 to June 2 three young men, heavily armed, had been spirited across the river Drina which separated Serbia from Austrian Bosnia.
The purpose and identity of the youths were not known. Known to the Prime Minister, however, were the ways of the Black Hand. Known, too, was the Archduke's forthcoming presence in Sarajevo as well as the Black Hand's motives for turning him into a corpse. Decked out in Serb patriotism, they aimed at sedition against the Serb government. A murder of that enormity would cause an imbroglio convenient for the Black Hand-a chance to seize power.
Prime Minister Pagic could not idly turn his back while such a scheme moved forward, could not let killers, dispatched by Apis across the Drina River, continue toward the Archduke. He must warn Austria. But the warning must be masked. After all, Apis was still Chief of Serbian Army Intelligence. Pagic had not been able to dislodge that bald monster. By giving Austria specifics about a possible assassination, he might be giving away clues leading to the complicity of a high Serbian official and so incriminate the whole country. Hence a compromise: Panic instructed his envoy to alert Austria but to omit any genuine details.
In Vienna Bilinski did as he was done to. He was just as cunning about not telling the truth just as careful. He told neither the Archduke nor the police nor the army nor Austrian Intelligence about that visit to his office. He, too, had politic reasons.
Bilinski disliked General Potiorek, the Austrian Military Governor of Bosnia, a Serb-eating hotspur of the General Conrad stripe. If Bilinski passed on these vague, probably meaningless whispers of the Serb envoy, they would eventually benefit Potiorek. Despite their unreality, Potiorek would use them to vindicate his bias, strengthen his position. This, in turn, would heighten his insolence toward Bilinski who was his nominal superior as Minister in charge of Bosnia. And Potiorek was already insolent enough.
Potiorek had appropriated a privilege belonging to Bilinski. He, not Bilinski, had made the arrangements for the Archduke's sojourn in Bosnia; worse yet, he had then sent the Archduke's program to all ministries except Bilinski's. On top of that, Bilinski had not even received an invitation to the state dinner! Why should Bilinski play Potiorek's intelligenceassistant and feed Potiorek every scrap of information that might or might not be authentic, that might or might not help Potiorek to do his job?
Bilinski retaliated with his silence. And General Potiorek did his job by his-uninformed-lights. Of the 22,000 troops deployed near Sarajevo for maneuvers, he detailed only an honor guard for the Archduke's route in the city itself. This was to show that under Potiorek's govenorship Belgrade's propaganda had been unable to shake the allegiance of the population to the Crown: His Imperial Highness required no extra protection in Sarajevo.