第9章

’Comealongtothecommandant，myboy，’Isaid，andImarchedaway，tearinguphistypewrittensheetsasIwentandstrewingthembehindmelikeapaperchase。

Wehadafineoldracketinthecommandant’soffice。Isaiditwasmybusiness，asrepresentingtheGermanGovernment，toseethestuffdeliveredtotheconsigneeatConstantinopleship—shapeandBristol—fashion。Itoldhimitwasn’tmyhabittoproceedwithcookeddocuments。Hecouldn’tbutagreewithme，buttherewasthatwrathfulOrientalwithhisfaceasfixedasaBuddha。

’Iamsorry，RastaBey，’hesaid;’butthismanisintheright。’

’IhaveauthorityfromtheCommitteetoreceivethestores，’hesaidsullenly。

’Thosearenotmyinstructions，’wastheanswer。’TheyareconsignedtotheArtillerycommandantatChataldja，GeneralvonOesterzee。’

Themanshruggedhisshoulders。’Verywell。IwillhaveawordtosaytoGeneralvonOesterzee，andmanytothisfellowwhofloutstheCommittee。’Andhestrodeawaylikeanimpudentboy。

Theharassedcommandantgrinned。’You’veoffendedhisLordship，andheisabadenemy。AllthosedamnedComitadjisare。YouwouldbewelladvisednottogoontoConstantinople。’

’Andhavethatblighterintheredhatlootthetrucksontheroad？No，thankyou。IamgoingtoseethemsafeatChataldja，orwhatevertheycalltheartillerydepot。’

Isaidagooddealmore，butthatisanabbreviatedtranslationofmyremarks。Mywordfor’blighter’was_trottel，butIusedsomeotherexpressionswhichwouldhaveravishedmyYoungTurkfriendtohear。Lookingback，itseemsprettyridiculoustohavemadeallthisfussaboutgunswhichweregoingtobeusedagainstmyownpeople。ButIdidn’tseethatatthetime。Myprofessionalpridewasupinarms，andIcouldn’tbeartohaveahandinacrookeddeal。

’Well’，Iadviseyoutogoarmed，’saidthecommandant。’Youwillhaveaguardforthetrucks，ofcourse，andIwillpickyougoodmen。Theymayholdyouupallthesame。Ican’thelpyouonceyouarepastthefrontier，butI’llsendawiretoOesterzeeandhe’llmaketroubleifanythinggoeswrong。IstillthinkyouwouldhavebeenwisertohumourRastaBey。’

AsIwasleavinghegavemeatelegram。’Here’sawireforyourCaptainSchenk。’IslippedtheenvelopeinmypocketandwentOut。

Schenkwasprettysick，soIleftanoteforhim。Atoneo’clockI

gotthetrainstarted，withacoupleofGermanLandwehrineachtruckandPeterandIinahorse—box。PresentlyIrememberedSchenk’stelegram，whichstillreposedinmypocket。Itookitoutandopenedit，meaningtowireitfromthefirststationwestoppedat。ButIchangedmymindwhenIreadit。ItwasfromsomeofficialatRegensburg，askinghimtoputunderarrestandsendbackbythefirstboatamancalledBrandt，whowasbelievedtohavecomeaboardatAbsthafenonthe30thofDecember。

IwhistledandshowedittoPeter。ThesoonerwewereatConstantinoplethebetter，andIprayedwewouldgettherebeforethefellowwhosentthiswirerepeateditandgotthecommandanttosendonthemessageandhaveusheldupatChataldja。Formybackhadfairlygotstiffenedaboutthesemunitions，andIwasgoingtotakeanyrisktoseethemsafelydeliveredtotheirproperowner。

Petercouldn’tunderstandmeatall。Hestillhankeredafteragranddestructionofthelotsomewheredowntherailway。Butthen，thiswasn’tthelineofPeter’sprofession，andhispridewasnotatstake。

Wehadamortallyslowjourney。ItwasbadenoughinBulgaria，butwhenwecrossedthefrontierataplacecalledMustafaPashawestrucktherealsupinenessoftheEast。HappilyIfoundaGermanofficertherewhohadsomenotionofhustling，and，afterall，itwashisinteresttogetthestuffmoved。Itwasthemorningofthe16th，afterPeterandIhadbeenlivinglikepigsonblackbreadandcondemnedtinstuff，thatwecameinsightofablueseaonourrighthandandknewwecouldn’tbeveryfarfromtheend。

Itwasjollyneartheendinanothersense。WestoppedatastationandwerestretchingourlegsontheplatformwhenIsawafamiliarfigureapproaching。ItwasRasta，withhalfadozenTurkishgendarmes。

IcalledPeter，andweclamberedintothetrucknextourhorse—

box。Ihadbeenhalfexpectingsomemovelikethisandhadmadeaplan。

TheTurkswaggeredupandaddressedus。’YoucangetbacktoRustchuk，’hesaid。’Itakeoverfromyouhere。Handmethepapers。’

’IsthisChataldja？’Iaskedinnocently。

’Itistheendofyouraffair，’hesaidhaughtily。’Quick，oritwillbetheworseforyou。’

’Now，lookhere，myson，’Isaid;’you’reakidandknownothing。

IhandovertoGeneralvonOesterzeeandtonooneelse。’

’YouareinTurkey，’hecried，’andwillobeytheTurkishGovernment。’

’I’llobeytheGovernmentrightenough，’Isaid;’butifyou’retheGovernmentIcouldmakeabetteronewithabibandarattle。’

Hesaidsomethingtohismen，whounslungtheirrifles。

’Pleasedon’tbeginshooting，’Isaid。’Therearetwelvearmedguardsinthistrainwhowilltaketheirordersfromme。Besides，I

andmyfriendcanshootabit。’

’Fool！’hecried，gettingveryangry。’Icanorderuparegimentinfiveminutes。’

’Maybeyoucan，’Isaid;’butobservethesituation。Iamsittingonenoughtoluoltoblowupthiscountryside。IfyoudaretocomeaboardIwillshootyou。IfyoucallinyourregimentIwilltellyouwhatI’lldo。I’llfirethisstuff，andIreckonthey’llbepickingupthebitsofyouandyourregimentofftheGallipoliPeninsula。’

Hehadputupabluff—apoorone—andIhadcalledit。HesawImeantwhatIsaid，andbecamesilken。

’Good—bye，Sir，’hesaid。’Youhavehadafairchanceandrejectedit。Weshallmeetagainsoon，andyouwillbesorryforyourinsolence。’

HestruttedawayanditwasallIcoulddotokeepfromrunningafterhim。Iwantedtolayhimovermykneeandspankhim。

WegotsafelytoChataldja，andwerereceivedbyvonOesterzeelikelong—lostbrothers。Hewastheregulargunner—officer，notthinkingaboutanythingexcepthisgunsandshells。Ihadtowaitaboutthreehourswhilehewascheckingthestuffwiththeinvoices，andthenhegavemeareceiptwhichIstillpossess。ItoldhimaboutRasta，andheagreedthatIhaddoneright。Itdidn’tmakehimasmadasIexpected，because，yousee，hegothisstuffsafeinanycase。ItwasonlythatthewretchedTurkshadtopaytwiceforthelotofit。

HegavePeterandmeluncheon，andwasaltogetherverycivilandinclinedtotalkaboutthewar。Iwouldhavelikedtohearwhathehadtosay，foritwouldhavebeensomethingtogettheinsideviewofGermany’sEasterncampaign，butIdidnotdaretowait。

AnymomenttheremightarriveanincriminatingwirefromRustchuk。

Finallyhelentusacartotakeusthefewmilestothecity。

Soitcameaboutthatatfivepastthreeonthe16thdayofJanuary，withonlytheclotheswestoodupin，PeterandIenteredConstantinople。

Iwasinconsiderablespirits，forIhadgotthefinallapsuccessfullyover，andIwaslookingforwardmadlytomeetingmyfriends;but，allthesame，thefirstsightwasamightydisappointment。Idon’tquiteknowwhatIhadexpected—asortoffairylandEasterncity，allwhitemarbleandbluewater，andstatelyTurksinsurplices，andveiledhouris，androsesandnightingales，andsomesortofstringbanddiscoursingsweetmusic。Ihadforgottenthatwinterisprettymuchthesameeverywhere。Itwasadrizzlingday，withasouth—

eastwindblowing，andthestreetswerelongtroughsofmud。ThefirstpartIstrucklookedlikeadingycolonialsuburb—woodenhousesandcorrugatedironroofs，andendlessdirty，sallowchildren。

Therewasacemetery，Iremember，withTurks’capsstuckattheheadofeachgrave。Thenwegotintonarrowsteepstreetswhichdescendedtoakindofbigcanal。IsawwhatItooktobemosquesandminarets，andtheywereaboutasimpressiveasfactorychimneys。

Byandbywecrossedabridge，andpaidapennyfortheprivilege。IfIhadknownitwasthefamousGoldenHornIwouldhavelookedatitwithmoreinterest，butIsawnothingsavealotofmoth—eatenbargesandsomequeerlittleboatslikegondolas。Thenwecameintobusierstreets，whereramshacklecabsdrawnbyleanhorsessplutteredthroughthemud。IsawoneoldfellowwholookedlikemynotionofaTurk，butmostofthepopulationhadtheappearanceofLondonold—clothesmen。Allbutthesoldiers，TurkandGerman，whoseemedwell—set—upfellows。

Peterhadpaddledalongatmysidelikeafaithfuldog，notsayingaword，butclearlynotapprovingofthiswetanddirtymetropolis。

’Doyouknowthatwearebeingfollowed，Cornelis？’hesaidsuddenly，’eversincewecameintothisevil—smellingdorp。’

Peterwasinfallibleinathinglikethat。Thenewsscaredmebadly，forIfearedthatthetelegramhadcometoChataldja。ThenI

thoughtitcouldn’tbethat，forifvonOesterzeehadwantedmehewouldn’thavetakenthetroubletostalkme。ItwasmorelikelymyfriendRasta。

IfoundtheferryofRatchikbyaskingasoldierandaGermansailortheretoldmewheretheKurdishBazaarwas。Hepointedupasteepstreetwhichranpastahighblockofwarehouseswitheverywindowbroken。Sandyhadsaidtheleft—handsidecomingdown，soitmustbetheright—handsidegoingup。Weplungedintoit，anditwasthefilthiestplaceofall。Thewindwhistledupitandstirredthegarbage。Itseemeddenselyinhabited，foratallthedoorsthereweregroupsofpeoplesquatting，withtheirheadscovered，thoughscarcelyawindowshowedintheblankwalls。

Thestreetcorkscrewedendlessly。Sometimesitseemedtostop;

thenitfoundaholeintheopposingmasonryandedgeditswayin。

Oftenitwasalmostpitchdark;thenwouldcomeagreyishtwilightwhereitopenedouttothewidthofadecentlane。Tofindahouseinthatmurkwasnoeasyjob，andbythetimewehadgoneaquarterofamileIbegantofearwehadmissedit。Itwasnogoodaskinganyofthecrowdwemet。Theydidn’tlookasiftheyunderstoodanycivilizedtongue。

Atlastwestumbledonit—atumble—downcoffeehouse，withA。Kuprassoabovethedoorinqueeramateurlettering。Therewasalampburninginside，andtwoorthreemensmokingatsmallwoodentables。

Weorderedcoffee，thickblackstuffliketreacle，whichPeteranathematized。Anegrobroughtit，andItoldhiminGermanI

wantedtospeaktoMrKuprasso。Hepaidnoattention，soI

shoutedlouderathim，andthenoisebroughtamanoutofthebackparts。

Hewasafat，oldishfellowwithalongnose，veryliketheGreektradersyouseeontheZanzibarcoast。Ibeckonedtohimandhewaddledforward，smilingoilily。ThenIaskedhimwhathewouldtake，andhereplied，inveryhaltingGerman，thathewouldhaveasirop。

’YouareMrKuprasso，’Isaid。’Iwantedtoshowthisplacetomyfriend。Hehasheardofyourgarden—houseandthefunthere。’

’TheSignorismistaken。Ihavenogarden—house。’

’Rot，’Isaid;’I’vebeenherebefore，myboy。Irecallyourshantyatthebackandmanymerrynightsthere。Whatwasityoucalledit？

Oh，Iremember—theGarden—HouseofSulimantheRed。’

Heputhisfingertohislipandlookedincrediblysly。’TheSignorremembersthat。Butthatwasintheoldhappydaysbeforewarcame。Theplaceislongsinceshut。Thepeopleherearetoopoortodanceandsing。’

’AllthesameIwouldliketohaveanotherlookatit，’Isaid，andIslippedanEnglishsovereignintohishand。

Heglancedatitinsurpriseandhismannerchanged。’TheSignorisaPrince，andIwilldohiswill。’Heclappedhishandsandthenegroappeared，andathisnodtookhisplacebehindalittleside—counter。

’Followme，’hesaid，andledusthroughalong，noisomepassage，whichwaspitchdarkandveryunevenlypaved。Thenheunlockedadoorandwithaswirlthewindcaughtitandblewitbackonus。

Wewerelookingintoameanlittleyard，withononesideahighcurvingwall，evidentlyofgreatage，withbushesgrowinginthecracksofit。Somescraggymyrtlesstoodinbrokenpots，andnettlesflourishedinacorner。Atoneendwasawoodenbuildinglikeadissentingchapel，butpaintedadingyscarlet。Itswindowsandskylightswereblackwithdirt，anditsdoor，tiedupwithrope，flappedinthewind。

’BeholdthePavilion，’Kuprassosaidproudly。

’Thatistheoldplace，’Iobservedwithfeeling。’WhattimesI’veseenthere！Tellme，MrKuprasso，doyoueveropenitnow？’

Heputhisthicklipstomyear。

’IftheSignorwillbesilentIwilltellhim。Itissometimesopen—

notoften。Menmustamusethemselveseveninwar。SomeoftheGermanofficerscomeherefortheirpleasure，andbutlastweekwehadtheballetofMademoiselleCici。Thepoliceapprove—butnotoften，forthisisnotimefortoomuchgaiety。Iwilltellyouasecret。Tomorrowafternoontherewillbedancing—wonderfuldancing！Onlyafewofmypatronsknow。Who，thinkyou，willbehere？’

Hebenthisheadcloserandsaidinawhisper—

’TheCompagniedesHeuresRoses。’

’Oh，indeed，’Isaidwithapropertoneofrespect，thoughI

hadn’tanotionwhathemeant。

’WilltheSignorwishtocome？’

’Sure，’Isaid。’Bothofus。We’reallfortherosyhours。’

’Thenthefourthhouraftermidday。Walkstraightthroughthecafeandonewillbetheretounlockthedoor。Youarenew—comershere？

TaketheadviceofAngeloKuprassoandavoidthestreetsafternightfall。

Stamboulisnosafeplacenowadaysforquietmen。’

Iaskedhimtonameahotel，andherattledoffalistfromwhichIchoseonethatsoundedmodestandinkeepingwithourget—up。Itwasnotfaroff，onlyahundredyardstotherightatthetopofthehill。

Whenwelefthisdoorthenighthadbeguntodrop。Wehadn’tgonetwentyyardsbeforePeterdrewveryneartomeandkeptturninghisheadlikeahuntedstag。

’Wearebeingfollowedclose，Cornelis，’hesaidcalmly。

Anothertenyardsandwewereatacross—roads，wherealittle_placefacedabiggishmosque。Icouldseeinthewaninglightacrowdofpeoplewhoseemedtobemovingtowardsus。Iheardahigh—pitchedvoicecryoutajabberofexcitedwords，anditseemedtomethatIhadheardthevoicebefore。

CHAPTERELEVEN

TheCompanionsoftheRosyHoursWebattledtoacorner，whereajutofbuildingstoodoutintothestreet。Itwasouronlychancetoprotectourbacks，tostandupwiththeribofstonebetweenus。Itwasonlytheworkofseconds。Oneinstantweweregropingoursolitarywayinthedarkness，thenextwewerepinnedagainstawallwithathroatymobsurgingroundus。

Ittookmeamomentortwotorealizethatwewereattacked。

Everymanhasonespecialfunkinthebackofhishead，andminewastobethequarryofanangrycrowd。Ihatedthethoughtofit—

themess，theblindstruggle，thesenseofunleashedpassionsdifferentfromthoseofanysingleblackguard。Itwasadarkworldtome，andIdon’tlikedarkness。ButinmynightmaresIhadneverimaginedanythingjustlikethis。Thenarrow，fetidstreet，withtheicywindsfanningthefilth，theunknowntongue，thehoarsesavagemurmur，andmyutterignoranceastowhatitmightallbeabout，mademecoldinthepitofmystomach。

’We’vegotitintheneckthistime，oldman，’IsaidtoPeter，whohadoutthepistolthecommandantatRustchukhadgivenhim。

Thesepistolswereouronlyweapons。Thecrowdsawthemandhungback，butiftheychosetorushusitwasn’tmuchofabarriertwopistolswouldmake。

Rasta’svoicehadstopped。Hehaddonehiswork，andhadretiredtothebackground。Therewereshoutsfromthecrowd—

’_Alleman’andaword’_Khafiyeh’constantlyrepeated。Ididn’tknowwhatitmeantatthetime，butnowIknowthattheywereafterusbecausewewereBochesandspies。TherewasnolovelostbetweentheConstantinoplescumandtheirnewmasters。ItseemedanironicalendforPeterandmetobedoneinbecausewewereBoches。Anddoneinweshouldbe。IhadheardoftheEastasagoodplaceforpeopletodisappearin;therewerenoinquisitivenewspapersorincorruptiblepolice。

IwishedtoHeavenIhadawordofTurkish。ButImademyvoiceheardforasecondinapauseofthedin，andshoutedthatwewereGermansailorswhohadbroughtdownbiggunsforTurkey，andweregoinghomenextday。Iaskedthemwhatthedeviltheythoughtwehaddone？Idon’tknowifanyfellowthereunderstoodGerman;anyhow，itonlybroughtapandemoniumofcriesinwhichthatominousword_Khafiyehwaspredominant。

ThenPeterfiredovertheirheads。Hehadto，forachapwaspawingathisthroat。Theanswerwasaclatterofbulletsonthewallaboveus。Itlookedasiftheymeanttotakeusalive，andthatIwasveryclearshouldnothappen。Betterabloodyendinastreetscrapthanthetendermerciesofthatbandboxbravo。

Idon’tquiteknowwhathappenednext。ApressdrovedownatmeandIfired。Someonesquealed，andIlookedthenextmomenttobestrangled。Andthen，suddenly，thescrimmageceased，andtherewasawaveringsplashoflightinthatpitofdarkness。

Ineverwentthroughmanyworseminutesthanthese。WhenI

hadbeenhuntedinthepastweekstherehadbeenmysteryenough，butnoimmediateperiltoface。WhenIhadbeenupagainstareal，urgent，physicalrisk，likeLoos，thedangeratanyratehadbeenclear。Oneknewwhatonewasinfor。ButherewasathreatI

couldn’tputanameto，anditwasn’tinthefuture，butpressinghardatourthroats。

AndyetIcouldn’tfeelitwasquitereal。Thepatterofthepistolbulletsagainstthewall，likesomanycrackers，thefacesfeltratherthanseeninthedark，theclamourwhichtomewaspuregibberish，hadallthemadnessofanightmare。OnlyPeter，cursingsteadilyinDutchbymyside，wasreal。Andthenthelightcame，andmadethescenemoreeerie！

Itcamefromoneortwotorchescarriedbywildfellowswithlongstaveswhodrovetheirwayintotheheartofthemob。Theflickeringglareranupthesteepwallsandmademonstrousshadows。

Thewindswungtheflameintolongstreamers，dyingawayinafanofsparks。

Andnowanewwordwasheardinthecrowd。Itwas_Chinganeh，shoutednotinangerbutinfear。

AtfirstIcouldnotseethenewcomers。Theywerehiddeninthedeepdarknessundertheircanopyoflight，fortheywereholdingtheirtorcheshighatthefullstretchoftheirarms。Theywereshouting，too，wildshrillcriesendingsometimesinagushofrapidspeech。Theirwordsdidnotseemtobedirectedagainstus，butagainstthecrowd。Asuddenhopecametomethatforsomeunknownreasontheywereonourside。

Thepresswasnolongerheavyagainstus。ItwasthinningrapidlyandIcouldhearthescuffleasmenmadeoffdownthesidestreets。

MyfirstnotionwasthattheseweretheTurkishpolice。ButI

changedmymindwhentheleadercameoutintoapatchoflight。

Hecarriednotorch，butalongstavewithwhichhebelabouredtheheadsofthosewhoweretootightlypackedtoflee。

Itwasthemosteldritchapparitionyoucanconceive。Atallmandressedinskins，withbarelegsandsandal—shodfeet。Awispofscarletclothclungtohisshoulders，and，drawnoverhisheaddownclosetohiseyes，wasaskull—capofsomekindofpeltwiththetailwavingbehindit。Hecaperedlikeawildanimal，keepingupastrangehighmonotonethatfairlygavemethecreeps。

Iwassuddenlyawarethatthecrowdhadgone。Beforeuswasonlythisfigureandhishalf—dozencompanions，somecarryingtorchesandallwearingclothesofskin。Butonlytheonewhoseemedtobetheirleaderworetheskull—cap;theresthadbareheadsandlongtangledhair。

Thefellowwasshoutinggibberishatme。Hiseyeswereglassy，likeamanwhosmokeshemp，andhislegswereneverstillforasecond。Youwouldthinksuchafigurenobetterthanamountebank，andyettherewasnothingcomicinit。Fearfulandsinisteranduncannyitwas;andIwantedtodoanythingbutlaugh。

Asheshoutedhekeptpointingwithhisstaveupthestreetwhichclimbedthehillside。

’Hemeansustomove，’saidPeter。’ForGod’ssakeletusgetawayfromthiswitch—doctor。’

Icouldn’tmakesenseofit，butonethingwasclear。ThesemaniacshaddeliveredusforthemomentfromRastaandhisfriends。

ThenIdidadashedsillything。Ipulledoutasovereignandofferedittotheleader。Ihadsomekindofnotionofshowinggratitude，andasIhadnowordsIhadtoshowitbydeed。

Hebroughthisstickdownonmywristandsentthecoinspinninginthegutter。Hiseyesblazed，andhemadehisweaponsingroundmyhead。Hecursedme—oh，Icouldtellcursingwellenough，thoughIdidn’tfollowaword;andhecriedtohisfollowersandtheycursedmetoo。Ihadofferedhimamortalinsultandstirredupaworsehornet’snestthanRasta’spush。

PeterandI，withacommonimpulse，tooktoourheels。Wewerenotlookingforanytroublewithdemoniacs。Upthesteep，narrowlaneweranwiththatbedlamitecrowdatourheels。Thetorchesseemedtohavegoneout，fortheplacewasblackaspitch，andwetumbledoverheapsofoffalandsplashedthroughrunningdrains。

Themenwereclosebehindus，andmorethanonceIfeltastickonmyshoulder。Butfearlentuswings，andsuddenlybeforeuswasablazeoflightandwesawthedebouchmentofourstreetinamainthoroughfare。Theotherssawit，too，fortheyslackenedoff。justbeforewereachedthelightwestoppedandlookedround。Therewasnosoundorsightbehindusinthedarklanewhichdippedtotheharbour。

’Thisisaqueercountry，Cornelis，’saidPeter，feelinghislimbsforbruises。’Toomanythingshappenintooshortatime。Iambreathless。’

Thebigstreetwehadstruckseemedtorunalongthecrestofthehill。Therewerelampsinit，andcrawlingcabs，andquitecivilized—

lookingshops。WesoonfoundthehoteltowhichKuprassohaddirectedus，abigplaceinacourtyardwithaverytumble—down—

lookingportico，andgreensun—shutterswhichrattleddrearilyinthewinter’swind。Itproved，asIhadfeared，tobepackedtothedoor，mostlywithGermanofficers。WithsometroubleIgotaninterviewwiththeproprietor，theusualGreek，andtoldhimthatwehadbeensenttherebyMrKuprasso。Thatdidn’taffecthimintheleast，andwewouldhavebeenshotintothestreetifIhadn’trememberedaboutStumm’spass。

SoIexplainedthatwehadcomefromGermanywithmunitionsandonlywantedroomsforonenight。Ishowedhimthepassandblusteredagooddeal，tillhebecamecivilandsaidhewoulddothebesthecouldforus。

Thatbestwasprettypoor。PeterandIweredoubledupinasmallroomwhichcontainedtwocamp—bedsandlittleelse，andhadbrokenwindowsthroughwhichthewindwhistled。WehadaWretcheddinnerofstringymutton，boiledwithvegetables，andawhitecheesestrongenoughtoraisethedead。ButIgotabottleofwhisky，forwhichIpaidasovereign，andwemanagedtolightthestoveinourroom，fastentheshutters，andwarmourheartswithabrewoftoddy。Afterthatwewenttobedandsleptlikelogsfortwelvehours。OntheroadfromRustchukwehadhaduneasyslumbers。

Iwokenextmorningand，lookingoutfromthebrokenwindow，sawthatitwassnowing。WithalotoftroubleIgotholdofaservantandmadehimbringussomeofthetreaclyTurkishcoffee。

Wewerebothinprettylowspirits。’Europeisapoorcoldplace，’

saidPeter，’notworthfightingfor。Thereisonlyonewhiteman’sland，andthatisSouthAfrica。’AtthetimeIheartilyagreedwithhim。

Irememberthat，sittingontheedgeofmybed，Itookstockofourposition。Itwasnotverycheering。Weseemedtohavebeenamassingenemiesatafuriouspace。Firstofall，therewasRasta，whomIhadinsultedandwhowouldn’tforgetitinahurry。HehadhiscrowdofTurkishriff—raffandwasboundtogetussoonerorlater。Thentherewasthemaniacintheskinhat。Hedidn’tlikeRasta，andImadeaguessthatheandhisweirdfriendswereofsomepartyhostiletotheYoungTurks。But，ontheotherhand，hedidn’tlikeus，andtherewouldbebadtroublethenexttimewemethim。Finally，therewasStummandtheGermanGovernment。ItcouldonlybeamatterofhoursatthebestbeforehegottheRustchukauthoritiesonourtrail。ItwouldbeeasytotraceusfromChataldja，andoncetheyhaduswewereabsolutelydone。Therewasabigblack_dossieragainstus，whichbynoconceivablepieceofluckcouldbeupset。

itwasverycleartomethat，unlesswecouldfindsanctuaryandshedallourvariouspursuersduringthisday，weshouldbedoneinforgoodandall。Butwhereonearthwerewetofindsanctuary？

Wehadneitherofusawordofthelanguage，andtherewasnowayIcouldseeoftakingonnewcharacters。Forthatwewantedfriendsandhelp，andIcouldthinkofnoneanywhere。Somewhere，tobesure，therewasBlenkiron，buthowcouldwegetintouchwithhim？AsforSandy，Ihadprettywellgivenhimup。Ialwaysthoughthisenterprisethecraziestofthelotandboundtofail。HewasprobablysomewhereinAsiaMinor，andamonthortwolaterwouldgettoConstantinopleandhearinsomepot—housetheyarnofthetwowretchedDutchmenwhohaddisappearedsosoonfrommen’ssight。

ThatrendezvousatKuprasso’swasnogood。Itwouldhavebeenallrightifwehadgothereunsuspected，andcouldhavegoneonquietlyfrequentingtheplacetillBlenkironpickedusup。Buttodothatwewantedleisureandsecrecy，andherewewerewithapackofhoundsatourheels。Theplacewashorriblydangerousalready。

IfweshowedourselvesthereweshouldbegatheredinbyRasta，orbytheGermanmilitarypolice，orbythemadmanintheskincap。Itwasastarkimpossibilitytohangaboutontheoff—chanceofmeetingBlenkiron。

Ireflectedwithsomebitternessthatthiswasthe17thdayofJanuary，thedayofourassignation。IhadhadhighhopesallthewaydowntheDanubeofmeetingwithBlenkiron—forIknewhewouldbeintime—ofgivinghimtheinformationIhadhadthegoodfortunetocollect，ofpiecingittogetherwithwhathehadfoundout，andofgettingthewholestorywhichSirWalterhungeredfor。Afterthat，Ithoughtitwouldn’tbehardtogetawaybyRumania，andtogethomethroughRussia。IhadhopedtobebackwithmybattalioninFebruary，havingdoneasgoodabitofworkasanybodyinthewar。Asitwas，itlookedasifmyinformationwoulddiewithme，unlessIcouldfindBlenkironbeforetheevening。

ItalkedthethingoverwithPeter，andheagreedthatwewerefairlyupagainstit。WedecidedtogotoKuprasso’sthatafternoon，andtotrusttoluckfortherest。Itwouldn’tdotowanderaboutthestreets，sowesattightinourroomallmorning，andswoppedoldhuntingyarnstokeepourmindsfromthebeastlypresent。Wegotsomefoodatmidday—coldmuttonandthesamecheese，andfinishedourwhisky。ThenIpaidthebill，forIdidn’tdaretostaythereanothernight。Abouthalf—pastthreewewentintothestreet，withoutthefoggiestnotionwherewewouldfindournextquarters。