The Austrian occupation made surprisingly little difference in the outer
aspect of Belgrade. The bombardment, which had been maintained
spasmodically and at intervals ever since the outbreak of war, ceased,
of course. There were a good many Austrian soldiers about, but these
were not the trim, soldierly looking men one might have expected to see.
Dick commented on this.

"They're reservists, and last line men, at that," said Stepan. "A lot of
them wear spectacles, you'll notice, and they're the older men, who
aren't fit to work in the field. A lot of those chaps would keel over if
they had to spend a night in a trench half full of water, or to march
twenty miles without a halt. But they are all right for this sort of
work. You can't count on them for fighting, but they do the work that
would otherwise take up a lot of fighting men."

"Will there be anything for us to do, Stepan?"

"I think a great deal. I haven't heard anything yet, except that we are
to stay."

"Do you think it's safe for me? I don't think I care much, but I mean if
they were looking for me in Semlin, isn't there a chance that I'll be
picked up now?"

"I don't think so. That was Hallo's doing, you see. He's disappeared,
and so there's nothing to urge them to go after you."

"Where is Hallo? I was afraid that perhaps he would have been found and
set free when the Austrians came."

"Not a bit of it! He's too valuable to be allowed to get off so
easily--or to be shot either," answered Steve.

"Then he was taken away?"

"Yes. He's being very carefully looked after in the interior now--in
Nissa or Nish, probably. Dick, suppose you go and see your consul here
again--Mr. Hampton. I'd like to know what he thinks about things. And
you can consult him, too, about your own position," Steve replied.

"So you're still here, are you?" said Mr. Hampton. "I thought you might
have run away with the Servians. But you did well to stay. I'm afraid
the Austrians are going right through this country now, the way a circus
acrobat goes through a paper hoop. It's the old story--the little
country is left to perish, like Belgium and Servia, while the big
fellows attend to their own knitting."

"You think the Servian retreat is serious, then, sir?"

"I think it's the beginning of the end, my boy--and if I wasn't afraid
that it wouldn't sound neutral, I'd say I was sorry for it, too! They've
made a game fight, and they deserved better luck. But look at the map
f