BY THE SAME A UTHOR 
 
 THE GIRL FROM KURDISTAN 
 
 HODDER AJTD STOCGHTOK 
 
 LIMITED
 
 MISS HAROUN 
 AL-RASCHID 
 
 BY 
 
 JESSIE DOUGLAS KERRUISH 
 
 The First Prize in Hodder and Stoughton's 
 One Thousand Guineas Novel Competition 
 
 HODDER AND STOUGHTON 
 LIMITED LONDON
 
 frtnttt tn Great Britain by Baiell, Watson & Tin*?, LA., 
 London and
 
 (k 
 
 TO 
 
 THE MEMORY OF 
 
 MARGARET DUNCAN KERRUISH 
 
 AND 
 
 MOSES HENRY KERRUISH 
 
 MY MOTHER AND FATHER
 
 Contents 
 
 BOOK I 
 ROUND ABOUT ROUM AND FRANKISTAN 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 FA OK 
 
 CONCERNING ASSYRIOLOGY AND RATHIA KUAN . 19 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE CONCRETE ALLIANCE 30 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE COMING OF EVELYN ..... 35 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 A GREAT SURPRISE ...... 40 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 WE GO TO THE PLAY ..... 47 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 WE ACT IN THE AFTERPIECE .... 56 
 
 11
 
 1 2 Contents 
 
 BOOK II 
 IN HARRIED KURDISTAN 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 PiSl 
 
 THE AUTUMN RISING 65 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 A DAMSEL ERRANT ...... 73 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 IN THE CHILLY EAST 78 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 A SUSPICIOUS CHARACTER ..... 88 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 AN ARMENIAN NIGHT 90 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 MEANS TO AN END 100 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE LAW OF QISAS 110 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS LADY OF KALMARU 120
 
 Contents 13 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 PAQfl 
 
 THE ENIGMATIC KHANOUM EFFEN* . . . 127 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE PAST OF THE KHANOUM EFFEN' . 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 ON THE TRACK OF THE TEN THOUSAND . 144 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE VIRTUOUS CITY OF BITFA .... 156 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE CHRISTENING OF MISS HAROUN AL-RASCHID . 168 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 UNCOVENANTED SUCCOUR ..... 172 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 WITH THE REMNANT OF THE CHALDEE8 .180 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 LYING IN STATE ...... 190 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 " HON-HA-A-A I " . . . 201
 
 14 Contents 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 PACT 
 
 ** VALE, KURDISTAN ! " . , . . . 212 
 
 BOOK III 
 IN THE LAND OF THE TWO GREAT RIVERS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 V7E REACH HOME 225 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 A VIRGIN TEL ? ...... 233 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE RACE BEGINS ...... 241 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 AN UNHAPPY MEETING . . . . .248 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 FATE * 25 i) 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 1IANY A SLIP . . ' . . . 261
 
 Contents 15 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 PAOl 
 
 THE RAPE OF THE MOUND .... 272 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE CLINCHING "FIND" 284 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 KI10RSABAD THE SECOND .... 295 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 A SHARED SECRET .... 304 
 
 BOOK IV 
 THE HARVESTING 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE NEW POLITE SPY ..... 317 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE GUNS OF SLIWA KLISSIA .... 328 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THREATS 330
 
 16 Contents 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 picn 
 
 BLUFF ? OB WHAT ? . 844 
 
 . 848 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 A STANDING OFFER 859 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 HER LORDSHIP . . . . 367 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE TRUTH . . . . . . 874 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 " TO MAKE LIVE OR TO SLAY" .... 884 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 HOW THE PIT TOOK 895 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 DUSK, AND A DAY TO BE 400
 
 BOO.K I 
 
 ROUND ABOUT ROUM AND 
 FRANKISTAN
 
 Chapter I 
 
 CONCERNING ASSYRIOLOGY AND RATHIA KHAN 
 
 THE primordial blame rests on Papa. Filial respect is 
 ingrained in the Oriental half of my composition, yet I 
 state distinctly that all the trouble may be traced to 
 his blunder of Moharrem 189 . 
 
 It was purely blunder. Papa cannot help doing 
 foolish things ; he is a genius : and genius consists of 
 the possession of boundless talent, patience ad lib., 
 initiative, energy, and no commonsense whatever. Men 
 with genius are hard to live with, women with it are 
 not fit to live with. 
 
 My father's genius is undeniable. It takes some- 
 thing beyond talent of the first water to make a man 
 acknowledged King of Assyriology after those mighty 
 successive monarchs of the science Sir Henry Raw- 
 linson, Sir Austen Layard, and Hormuzd Rassam. 
 
 But half the world does not know how the other 
 fraction lives and does its business. I have met 
 graduates of Yale and Oxford who were unacquainted 
 with the fact that the Pitcairn Islanders earn a modest 
 subsistence by taking in one another's washing, and 
 early in the very day that was to see the arrival of the 
 Messageries Maritimes steamer with Papa and his 
 blunder on board, a really intelligent elderly lady from 
 the British Embassy happened to call on me and asked 
 point-blank what Assyriology means. 
 
 19
 
 20 Concerning Assyriology and Rathia Khan 
 
 '* I confess I never could understand your father's 
 profession, Miss JernLngham," she said apologetically. 
 
 I elucidated. A working Assyriologist is a person 
 who digs in Asiatic Turkey for wrecked and buried 
 towns of ancient Assyria and Babylonia. The two 
 countries occupied the land that is now known as 
 Mesopotamia the Land Between the Rivers Euphrates 
 and Tigris, and the regions round about and southward. 
 Thousands of years ago these towns and their temples 
 were sacked and partly burnt and wholly deserted, 
 the sun-dried bricks of which they were mainly built 
 dissolved in the wet of successive winters into their 
 original stage of mud, which ran down and embedded 
 the marble sculptures of the palaces and temples, and 
 other solid objects left behind by looters. 
 
 " Like raisins in a cake," suggested Mrs. Kent, as I 
 paused. 
 
 " Precisely," I agreed, and went on to explain how 
 sand blown by the winds of long ages accumulated on 
 the ruins, and grass and flowers grew over, until, now, 
 it takes the trained eye of an Assyriologist to tell 
 whether the mound on which the Arab peasant draws 
 his plough and sets up his village cemetery is a natural 
 hillock or a grave wherein the ruins of Rehoboth-Ia may' 
 be embedded. The Old Testament puts the process in 
 a line : " To make a heap of a fenced city." 
 
 " They are simply heaps," I proceeded. '* It is a 
 sheer gamble to dig into one unless there is a bit of 
 ruin above the surface. You may find art and anti- 
 quarian treasures enough to put a Jew's ransom to the 
 blush, or else waste your Fund's money for weeks before 
 making sure the place is a natural hill." 
 
 ' Your Fund ? " repeated the visitor. 
 
 " Papa is the Field-director of the Oxford University 
 Assyrian Exploration Fund." 
 
 " Oh, I see. He hires people to dig, and the anti-
 
 Concerning Assyriology and Rathia Khan 21 
 
 quities he finds go to the Oxford Museum, don't 
 they?" 
 
 " Alas, no ! In the golden days of Layard and Botta, 
 Place and Rassam, it was a case of finding is keeping 
 for the excavator or his employers ; but of late un- 
 luckily for people of our trade the Turkish Govern- 
 ment has wakened to the folly of giving away its art 
 treasures free gratis. It is now forbidden to export 
 antiques out of the Empire ; excavators are sometimes 
 granted permits to dig, but may keep only a third of 
 their finds. The Imperial Ottoman Museum takes the 
 rest, if the discovery was on Crown land, with a portion 
 for the landlord if it was private ground." 
 
 " It's a kind of * The owl, for a boon, was kindly per- 
 mitted to pocket the spoon ' arrangement," said Mrs. 
 Kent. Like most missionaries, she is flippant when not 
 shoppy. 
 
 " It's all right," I rejoined. " Antiquarians can study 
 the things in the Stamboul Museum. Papa gets the 
 sport and kudos of the work, and I get the fun of help- 
 ing him." 
 
 "Is it fun ? " asked the visitor dubiously. 
 
 " Just listen, Mrs. Kent ! Here's somebody wanting 
 to know if life in my country of the Two Rivers is fun I 
 I rather envy you, Mrs. Jocelyn ; you have yet to see a 
 Mesopotamian sunset for the first time. You know, 
 Mrs. Kent, a tremendous hush sky and land and river 
 bathed in floods of amber light the sun's disk : all 
 throbbing orange, swelling in size as it nears the hori- 
 zon, then hanging all a-quiver on the verge for a 
 moment before it plunges out of sight." 
 
 " It makes you gasp like when your umbrella drips 
 unexpectedly down the back of your neck," the mis- 
 sionary nodded appreciatively. 
 
 " And summer down-river, when a lizard, if it is don- 
 key enough to try and cross the road at noon will be
 
 22 Concerning Assyriolcgy and Rathia Khan 
 
 burnt dead and roasted to a cinder half-way across 
 
 But we are boring you, Mrs. Jocelyn." 
 
 " Not at all, I assure you. You live at Mosul, don't 
 you ? " 
 
 "It is our official headquarters, but we lead a roving 
 life. When we work in Assyria, the dry desert and 
 hill country, we camp out, but in Babylonia it is not 
 feasible. Last year, at Tel Bairakhdar, south of Bagh- 
 dad and ten miles from anywhere, we built a meftul 
 (that means, literally, a fort, and practically an over- 
 grown mud hut), and lived there in feudal state for 
 months. We take our own overseers and a gang of 
 trained men with us, and hire general labour on the spot. 
 But there's no dulness with Turkish rustic navvies. 
 They sometimes throw down their picks and baskets 
 and go on strike with statues half dug out ; they treat 
 themselves to impromptu holidays for the purpose of 
 going to drub rival villages or getting drubbed them- 
 selves ; and once, at least, some Arabs for whom we 
 could not find work raided the camp and tried to burn 
 us up in it ! " 
 
 " What a life for a lady ! " exclaimed our visitor. 
 ** I wonder Sir Home permits you to accompany him.'* 
 
 " He can't help himself. I insist on going. And 
 it's My Land, you know : my mother was a native of 
 Upper Assyria." 
 
 " Ye-es, I think I have heard some mention of it," 
 murmured Mrs. Jocelyn, looking a little embarrassed. 
 
 I knew she was taking a covert peep at my nails, 
 and I did not mind. Europeans say behind my back 
 I have a touch of the tar-brush. The statement is 
 strictly inaccurate, but I never bother to challenge it. 
 You cannot convince some people that there are gradua- 
 tions between the fair Celt arid the Tierra del Fuegian. 
 
 " Rathia's mother was a charming woman," said Mrs. 
 Kent kindly.
 
 Concerning Assyriology and Rathia Khan 28 
 
 41 So you knew the late Lady Jerningham ? " 
 
 '* Mrs. Jerningham," the missionary corrected. " No, 
 I never saw her personally, but people who knew her 
 have plenty to say of her amongst other items that 
 Rathia is an exact replica of her." 
 
 Mrs. Jocelyn took a sidelong look at me. It was 
 not the first time she had indulged in an inspection of 
 my appearance, but I knew that for once she was 
 making an inventory of my physical details, not of my 
 frock and furbelows. 
 
 Likewise, I knew the survey would inform her that 
 the late Mrs. Jerningham was, in Mosulese memory, 
 slightly under six feet in height, that she owned Hellenic 
 features the nose and brow all in one line, like the 
 forepart of a Bayeux tapestry helmet a skin that 
 would have been accounted light in Italy, lurid red- 
 brown eyes, and hair of a lively wall-flower tint with a 
 single albino lock sweeping up flamboyantly over one 
 temple. 
 
 My mother was one of the last of the race of heredi- 
 tary Pashas of Amadiyeh. Amadiyeh is in Kurdistan, 
 north of Mosul, and its lords were of Abbasside de- 
 scent, tracing it to the uncle of Muhammad, via the 
 Khalifs of Baghdad and Samarra. On a time they 
 were great seigniors. Their power was broken in the 
 first half of the nineteenth century ; the castle of Ama- 
 diyeh was reduced by a Turkish general, and when 
 Papa first came to the Orient their remaining descen- 
 dants were living in genteel poverty in Mosul. 
 
 Still, rich or poor, they were creme de la creme of the 
 Nearer East, and my mother-to-be was Rathia Khan 
 which is as though one could with accuracy say, " the 
 Lord Anne," or " Sir Elizabeth," the ladies oi he 
 Amadiyeh line being legally entitled ior tne highness 
 of their descent's sake to the masculine title. 
 
 Rathia Khan, then, lived with her nearest kin, a
 
 24 Concerning Assyriology and Rathia Khan 
 
 maternal aunt and her husband, in a little house on the 
 virgin mound of Nebbi Youmis, over the river hard 
 against Mosul. This mound covers an important part 
 of buried Nineveh, but it has never been excavated 
 officially, because the tomb of Nebbi Younus Prophet 
 Jonah is situate upon it and makes it holy ground. 
 Still, for love of money, some of the householders on it 
 can be induced to let an artful Assyriologist dig, sub 
 rosa, and by night, in their land. Rathia Khan's guar- 
 dians allowed Papa to work in a secluded corner of 
 their court. Moslems of Kurdistan are not so pruriently 
 punctilious about secluding their womenfolk as towns- 
 folk are : doubtless Rathia Khan found it a pleasant 
 break in the monotony of life to slip out in the moon- 
 light and peer down the mysterious hole as it deepened 
 night by night. My father is still handsome, he was 
 young then one can see how it was bound to end. 
 Either in broken hearts and streaming eyes, or as it 
 ended. A court, high-walled, moonlit, and topped by 
 the solemn, slow-moving pageant of the stars, a black 
 shaft with the eerie noise of men working at the bottom, 
 a comely young man eager to explain each find as it 
 was handed out, a lovely girl as eager to learn the 
 explanation as she helped to pack the treasures with 
 her slim Abbasside fingers. The storks peeping down 
 highly scandalised from the roof, uncle or aunt 
 dozing on the verandah in rdle of discreet gooseberry, 
 the song of lapping river and rustling young leaves 
 dallying with the spring night-breeze, the scent of the 
 distant, wormwood-grown desert coming in subtle gusts 
 to blend with the nearer, maddeningly subtle savour 
 of the jasmine on the walls. 
 
 It is all easy to reconstruct. 
 
 The work lasted a month. Early in the next one 
 Papa went exploring up north, with only two old ser- 
 vants for escort. A week later Rathia Khan took it
 
 Concerning Assyriology and Rathia Khan 25 
 
 into her head to visit some far relations in a village up 
 Hakkiari way. A moon or so later her uncle and aunt 
 went about for three days in unwashed garments with 
 the seams carefully unpicked for a few inches at the 
 hem in token of mourning, and were garrulously anxious 
 to tell every one how their poor niece had met her death 
 and burial far from home. 
 
 In the year's ending Papa came back with a wife. 
 She was a Chaldsean : an orphan whose relatives had 
 been wiped out in a Kurdish raid. Her exact lineage 
 and original home could never be satisfactorily ascer- 
 tained : she said herself that they were too humble to 
 be mentioned now that she was the wife of a great 
 Effendi. They had been married by H.M. Consul at 
 Moush, that was certain, and Papa explained that the 
 Anglican and Chalda;an Churches are so entirely in 
 accord in matters of doctrine that the question was 
 indifferent. Mosul coughed the Cough of Incredulity 
 behind the Hand of Politeness ; it could not help notic- 
 ing that the new Mrs. Jerningham was wont to stop 
 involuntarily and check herself in the act of passing her 
 forefingers over her ears when the " Allahu Akhbar ..." 
 rolled from the minarets at Salat times. 
 
 It was everybody's secret : nobody was taken in, 
 and nobody whispered a suspicion aloud. The local 
 Ulema looked at it like men of the world. 
 
 " It is a shame that stinketh to the heaven of Ibrahim 
 Khalilu 'llah," said the Kadi. 
 
 '* We will imprison the woman until she returns to 
 Islam or die. Is it not the law for dealing with a 
 female apostate, as given in the blessed Hidayah from 
 the very words of An Nabi's self ? and may bliss attend 
 his beard ! " the Moufti added. 
 
 For the exact words I cannot vouch, amongst other 
 reasons because I was not born at the time but I 
 know they held a special sitting over the scandal at the
 
 26 Concerning Assyriology and Hathia Khan 
 
 house of the Kadi : the Kadi himself, the Moufti, and 
 the Imaum being assembled to make a quorum, and 
 from later information and personal acquaintance with 
 the holy men I can hazard a guess at the nature of the 
 arguments advanced. At this point, I make out, the 
 Imaum, an old man and a discreet, spoke: 
 
 " Why should we do aught, my brothers ? The kin 
 of the woman say naught ; it is their duty to first report 
 the matter to us. And, on our part, is it well to open 
 the eyes too wide ? One thing is certain : if we do 
 aught Jerningham Effendi will leave the land, if he be 
 not first slain." 
 
 All looked serious, doubtless, at this plain statement. 
 Papa's work brought gain to hundreds of good Moslems ; 
 also at that period he had only himself to keep and 
 more than once the surplus of his income had fed half 
 the neighbourhood in famine times. 
 
 44 Likewise, please Allah, we must consider the dis- 
 position of the woman herself," the Imaum purred on. 
 " She is of the race of Amadiyeh, and all the women of 
 that line be men. With their eyes did not our fathers 
 see how the sister of Ismail Khan fought by her brother's 
 side and slew bearded men not one nor two alone ere 
 their castle fell ? Let us load the balances, I pray. It is 
 certain, O my brethren, that she will burn in the Black 
 Fire hereafter for her apostasy, but, answer I beseech, 
 is it a thing of so great moment that, for sake of a hand- 
 some Kafir Eff endi, a woman of no importance abandons 
 Islam ? Folk comprehend, and say in their souls : 4 It 
 is no despite to Islam ; it was love, not the doctrine of 
 Isa Ibn Maryam, that lured her.' On the other scale, 
 put it that if we put her in bonds the courage of her 
 race will cause her to cling to the creed of Isa for 
 scorn of coercion, even to death, and men will say : 
 4 A great religion this, that giveth such strength to a 
 woman.' I have spoken.'*
 
 Concerning Assyriology and Rathia Khan 27 
 
 The Moufti proposed a brilliant short-cut out of it. 
 Let them disregard the apostasy and simply do Rathia 
 Khan to death for the sin committed in her effort to 
 compass the impossible to effect a legal marriage be- 
 tween Christian man and Moslemah. Once she was 
 
 dead said the Moufti. The Moufti was young and 
 
 from Kaiseriyah, where they almost forget the main 
 chance in their fanaticism. The elders sat on him 
 promptly. The woman's death would mean the Kafir 
 Effendi's death too, at least his flight. Even a conscience 
 from Kaiseriyah quailed when the evil of driving away 
 the gold-producing goose was plainly set forth by its 
 seniors. 
 
 They threshed it out. Papa at the time was awaiting 
 their first official move with anxiety not unnatural under 
 the circumstances. During the days of suspense he kept 
 the town well larded with spies, the Wardens of the 
 Gates well bribed, and two sets of Arab garments and two 
 kochelain mares always ready. Even at that early 
 period he was a worshipped hero in the eyes of all the 
 Bedouin of Irak Arabi and El Jezireh, and the Mosul 
 authorities would have needed fleet steeds to catch him 
 east of Alexandretta. 
 
 The day of fate came, and with it the Kadi's head 
 servant to request for his master the eye-salve of Jerning- 
 ham Effendi's presence at the said master's humble 
 house. Papa went the spies had prophesied peace 
 and found the quorum assembled. They talked weather 
 a little, and presently : 
 
 " It is known to all, Effendi, that thou art a bride- 
 groom of recent making," said the Imaum, with winning 
 directness. " Is it not the mode of Frankistan for such 
 a one to give alms to the poor ? " 
 
 " * The miser is Allah's foe, yea, though he be a 
 saint : the generous is Allah's friend, yea, though he be 
 a sinner,' " quoted the Moufti, lest Papa should miss
 
 28 Concerning Assyriology and Rathia Khan 
 
 the point and a Kaiseriyani conscience be sacrificed in 
 vain. 
 
 " Your information respecting Frankish customs is 
 accurate, reverend sirs," said Papa. " I am meditating at 
 present how best to fulfil the laudable custom you have 
 mentioned. I find difficulties in the actual fulfilment, 
 and these I will set forth, if your patience can bear it." 
 
 *' Thou wilt give to the Christian poor ? " hinted the 
 Kadi. 
 
 Papa was wordily wroth. " Doth Allah, Whom we 
 all worship, send His rain upon the grass alone and not 
 upon the flowers, or upon the flowers alone, and not upon 
 the grass ? " he demanded. " And, I pray ye, answer, 
 shall I be more nice than He with that He hath entrusted 
 to my stewardship ? The poor of the Muslim way shall 
 bless me Inshallah ! as well as those of my own Nasara 
 way. Now, O ye heads of Islam in this place, I dare to 
 crave a favour of your most exceeding kindness. I will 
 in a little time give somewhat to the heads of mine own 
 faith to dole as their wisdom dictateth, and I dare to hope 
 you will give yourselves the toil of distributing what I 
 design for your own poor. Am I too daring ? " 
 
 They assured him they did not grudge trouble over a 
 benevolent object, and asked : " How much ? " 
 
 " Five thousand medjidieh," he answered. 
 
 Their eyes glistened. A thousand pounds would 
 afford some nice pickings. " Twenty thousand would 
 be better; then could all the poor of Mosul eat one 
 mouthful and bless thee, my son," said the Imaum. 
 
 " Six thousand I can make it, Quatbu'd'din, and no 
 more," he answered firmly. 
 
 They beat one another, up and down, and compromised 
 on ten thousand. And two thousand pounds, plus a few 
 extra given, for decency's sake, to the Christian poor, 
 was the price of Rathia Khan's secession. The poor 
 rejoiced, and if the Moufti invested in a Baghdad!
 
 Concerning Assyriology and Eaihia Khan 29 
 
 pacing mule and the Kadi's household was swelled by 
 the addition of a Nubian slave-girl soon after, verily, 
 it is unmannerly to put two and two together unasked. 
 
 Socially, there was no scandal. It was undeniable that 
 
 Mrs. R of the British Vice-Consulate was not more 
 
 certainly the spouse of her Vice-Consul than that the 
 new-comer was legally Mrs. Jerningham (of Jerningham 
 Chase, Northants, England, and Mosul, Vilayat of Mosul, 
 Asiatic Turkey). The new Mrs. Jerningham, then, 
 became an established fact. The other Mosul ladies 
 even refrained from open comment on her hair, which 
 was of the exact tint produced by superincumbent appli- 
 cations of henna and indigo on a ruddy foundation. 
 
 After a short stay in Mosul, just long enough for her 
 to get used to European frocks and saddles, they spent 
 little time in the city, wandering for a large part of every 
 year on the Assyriological track. In Mosul I first 
 dawned on the gaze of a censorious world. My hair, 
 precociously abundant, warm of tint, and with a white 
 blaze in front, was a trial of faith to our friends, but they 
 said, bravely, that I probably took after some of Papa's 
 great-grandparents. No cause for comment was given 
 when I was christened Rathia it is not the Turkey-in- 
 Asiatic custom to name children after their parents, and, 
 besides, my mother's name was Sourma though she 
 sometimes forgot to respond when Papa called to her. 
 
 Two busy years followed, the family travels usually 
 took their course about Kurdistan a country Euro- 
 peans will persist in calling Armenia. There Papa found 
 the vanguard forts of Tukultai-Palesharra's Empire 
 and lost Ms wife. 
 
 We were camped on a mound near Khairan ; he went 
 to Moush in a hurry, meaning to return soon ; he was 
 detained, and came back to find she was dead, and 
 already buried with the hasty burial of the East.
 
 Chapter II 
 
 THE CONCRETE ALLIANCE 
 
 ALL that pertains to my mother I know, necessarily, 
 from hearsay. From hearsay also I know that Papa 
 was heart-broken, for a time, and fled the East, taking 
 me with him, and Sulti with me. 
 
 Sulti is an Armenian ; she had been servant to Rathia 
 Khan when she lived on Nebbi Younus, and when her 
 mistress died it was not curious that she should search 
 for a new one. So she passed into the service of the new 
 Mrs. Jerningham, and now she was my nurse, a fiercely 
 loving, scolding, adoring Eastern nurse. 
 
 At this period my more tangible memories begin, 
 perhaps owing to the violent change from Western Asia 
 to Middle England. I was introduced to a new order of 
 beings aunts. They had all of them cold blue eyes, 
 said " Oh," at the beginning of all remarks, and handled 
 me gingerly. I now know that they feared I might bite. 
 In confidence I asked Sulti if they were women. She 
 cocked her chin and answered, no, they were ladies 
 Feringhi ladies. I did not like them much, nor did I 
 like the house the rooms were over-large, and full of 
 frightening shadows ; nor the country the rain rained 
 almost every day. 
 
 There were compensations open fires, for example, 
 and a vivid picture at the bottom of a certain china 
 bowl. These never palled; there was no chance of 
 satiety, as they were hedged about with restrictions, 
 
 30
 
 The Congreve Alliance 81 
 
 open fires being fortified by wire guards and officious 
 grown-ups, and the picture only to be enjoyed after the 
 consumption of a superincumbent layer of bread and 
 milk. I always think of that picture when the men are 
 clearing down from Parthian remains to a pre-Sargonic 
 pavement. About that time the enviable freedom of 
 grown-ups dawned on me. Sulti said I would be one, 
 by and by, if I behaved. I was determined that when 
 by and by came I would never touch bread and milk 
 and would sit inside the fireguard all day. 
 
 Tempora mutantur ... 1 After nineteen years I find 
 that I like bread and milk, and object to exposing my 
 complexion to an unscreened blaze. 
 
 Now and then it did not rain, and Papa took me for 
 a gallop. The woods were new to me, still more the turf, 
 the ploughed fields, all brindled black and buff, were 
 reminiscent. He sometimes made cryptic remarks to 
 the effect that I would be Lady of the Manor some day. 
 At other times we crept ever so quietly through bushes 
 and high grass to peep at families of brown birds ; these 
 he said were pheasants, our pheasants, and we were great 
 folk because we owned them. Pheasants in the West are 
 the equivalent of Abyssinian slaves in the East. 
 
 The company I associated with was mostly grown-up. 
 Sometimes I met it in the nursery, more frequently 
 after dinner, when I was taken in with dessert and 
 handed round like a decanter. The gentlemen invari- 
 ably showed me the wheels in their watches, some of 
 the younger ladies were not so much afraid of me as the 
 aunts were ; the one who was least afraid of all was Miss 
 Congreve. We met very often ; sometimes she came to 
 see the aunts, and sometimes Papa took me to see her. 
 She lived across the Park, six fields, and another park, 
 in a house like ours ; only larger, with a father and 
 mother and any amount of brothers and sisters. 
 
 The father was thin and peppery. He almost lived
 
 32 The Congreve Alliance 
 
 on horseback, often gave me rides, and always told Papa 
 afterwards that I was a game little monkey. The 
 mother was of the aunt type, but stout. People called 
 them Lord and Lady Naseby, and Miss Congreve was, 
 in full, the Honourable Evelyn Congreve. 
 
 " * Honourable * is the English for Khan," Sulti re- 
 marked to me once, after we had been nearly a year in 
 England. " Thy mother, the wife of thy father, was a 
 Khan." And it seemed to worry her. 
 
 That was one of the days I remember. We had been 
 for a walk, between two showers, in the watery beams 
 of a dull and loathly something that the English servants 
 called the sun. " Sun ! " so Sulti jeered bitterly, " This 
 Frankistan is but a great grave where dead suns are 
 hung up to rot, like Parsi corpses in a Dakhma." 
 
 An hour later came Papa's pronouncement. " We are 
 going back to the land of the sun soon, Rathia," he said. 
 
 " Happy folk ! " sighed Miss Congreve, who was 
 present, one of three. " How I envy you ! " 
 
 " Do you ? " replied Papa sharply. " Run and ask 
 Sulti for a lump of sugar, Rathia." 
 
 I obeyed, and missed the succeeding conversation. 
 Soon afterwards we started Eastward Ho ! and Miss 
 Congreve with us. During the interim the aunts 
 called me " poor innocent ! " to my face. And then 
 you must imagine the land of the sun, and the three 
 of us very happy in it. 
 
 My stepmother remains in my memory as a stately, 
 gracious, loving presence. The one distinction that she 
 made between me and her own children, when they 
 arrived, was that, from false sensitiveness, she did not 
 give me all the scoldings I really needed. In Mosul it 
 was whispered that the Honourable Mrs. Jerningham 
 would ruin her husband's career city-bred occidental 
 that she was. It is a moot point if the prediction 
 reached her ears ; it is fact that she utterly belied it.
 
 The Congreve Alliance 33 
 
 Never before did my father work as he did in the twelve 
 years of her companionship : you may read of his 
 triumphs in any text-book. And it was all due to her. 
 No place was too dangerous, and no way of living too 
 rough, for her to be with him. Only when the little 
 ones had to be considered she stayed at Mosul or 
 Baghdad, keeping an endless chain of messengers running 
 between city and camp, when duty stationed him at 
 an unhealthy place. 
 
 From the first I was never parted from her ; when she 
 travelled I travelled too. And oh, the heavenly joy of 
 journeying then ! A landscape of palm-plumed desert- 
 edge, sheeny river, or peaked mountains flowing past, 
 Papa on his grey full Arab with its strung-bow neck and 
 its streaming tail and mane, my stepmother on her pretty 
 bay Hajin, behind a line of giant mules piled high with 
 baggage and led by singing Katarjis, an escort of stately 
 dalouls lifting their white-draped riders high against 
 the blue, or of smart green and orange clad zaptiehs, 
 their bits and scabbards tinking treble to the base of 
 the swinging mule-bells. Sun and palms and river, 
 work and wayfaring and music to all a scrap of Eden 
 sphere Eden was time ago ! 
 
 I rode in a kajaweh, which is a species of lidless coffin 
 slung by pairs on mule-back. When we marched long, 
 or by night, I slept in it too. The other was loaded, to 
 balance me, with my stepmother's private traps. At 
 night a mosquito-net was over me, and the ever-fasci- 
 nating stars were doubly attractive because doubly 
 remote. Any one could tell me all about the stars, and 
 the most was about Orion and the lost Pleiad poor 
 lonely creature out in space with nobody to cling to 
 when it became frightening ! 
 
 At that period we sometimes lived in tents, and 
 sometimes in our Mosul home. To me the distinction 
 was that I sometimes played on a sand-heap, and some- 
 2
 
 34 The Congreve Alliance 
 
 times in a garden. Evelyn arrived during a garden 
 epoch. A year after our wanderings recommenced, 
 and she proved eminently intelligent, and was quite a 
 woman, promoted to short skirts and able to take her 
 share in a sensible conversation, by the time the next 
 arrival came. Play on a sand-heap was super- joy now, 
 travelling triple fun with two in the kawajeh. 
 
 The second arrival was a boy. Muhammadan friends 
 felt they could congratulate Papa without resting under 
 suspicion of irony. Two more boys followed, then 
 several splendid years with us all together, until tragedy 
 intervened again, and my second mother went her way 
 and left more hearts forlorn than one could reckon.
 
 Chapter III 
 
 THE COMING OF EVELYN 
 
 AFTER his second loss our father fled the East again. 
 Now it was the turn of Evelyn and the boys to be 
 introduced to the aunts, and, because they were all 
 blue-eyed, amber-haired replicas of their mother, the 
 aunts took them into high favour at once. This was 
 as it should be ; likewise they were pleased to approve 
 of me more at sixteen than they did at three. 
 
 A great deal of our time was passed, by invitation, 
 at Congreve Towers. Lady Naseby cried outright at 
 her first meeting with Evelyn. Lord Naseby turned 
 his back on us for some time on the same occasion. 
 Evelyn thought grandfathers had bad manners, but I 
 understood when he muttered something about setting 
 the clock back twenty years. 
 
 We stayed in England two years. To me they were 
 divided into one of rigid home training, and one of 
 Society. And how wearisome they were to a girl who 
 had lived in tent and saddle since her real memory 
 began only that girl knows ! Then the Call of the East 
 and the prayers of the Oxford Fund could be resisted 
 no longer, and it was ho ! for the Assyriological road 
 again. 
 
 I went with my father, but it had been my step- 
 mother's last wish that her children should be brought 
 up by her own people. At eighteen Evelyn was to 
 choose with whom she would cast in her lot, the boys 
 
 35
 
 36 The Coming of Evelyn 
 
 were to choose at one-and-twenty. It is my belief 
 that in her heart of hearts their mother had a dread of 
 the Orient. 
 
 Four glorious years passed : four years of hardship 
 and triumph, of unbeaten tracks, hard toil in the en- 
 chanting orts of bygone civilisations, oases of warm- 
 hearted Eastern hospitality, bad seasons passed in our 
 trophy-hung Mosul home, then Papa's blunder. 
 
 Evelyn was eighteen that year, and, as we had not 
 been in England since I was eighteen myself, we felt 
 we must hear her decision from her own h'ps. We left 
 Piers in charge and hied us to Roum. 
 
 Piers Blessington is my cousin, the only child of 
 Papa's favourite sister. She was the only one who was 
 not cold-eyed, and that was why she made a runaway 
 mesalliance, and was glad, when she was left a widow, to 
 let Papa see the boy through Harrow and Oxford. Now 
 for two years Piers had been our second in command. 
 
 We killed two birds by going to England via Con- 
 stantinople. Our firman had just completed its span of 
 four years, and Papa had to get the Padishah to grant 
 a new one. That was in the pushing, golden 'nineties, 
 you will understand, when, spite of the Bulgarian 
 scandal, Papa was not ashamed to sue for a favour from 
 Abdul Hamid. Piers was all agog to come, too, but 
 Papa informed him candidly : " It is a matter of blar- 
 neying H Bey, my boy, and Madame H Bey, 
 
 and Rathia's worth ten of you at that game. You stop 
 and see that the Louvre Expedition does not stake a 
 claim on any of our mounds." 
 
 H Bey directs the Stamboul Museum and advises 
 
 the Shadow of Allah in matters assthetic. I, accordingly, 
 
 called with affectionate haste on Madame H Bey, a 
 
 Turkified Frenchwoman, and talked dress, diseases, and 
 domestics to her to such effect that when Papa paid 
 his official begging visit to her husband and flattered
 
 The Coming of Evelyn 37 
 
 him over his recent acquisition of the Sidon sarcophagi 
 the Bey had his orders. " Go about your business as 
 you choose, Jerningham Effendi, for as long as you 
 like and in peace of mind," said he. " After a month, 
 please Allah, when you choose to claim it, the firman 
 will be ready." 
 
 A week's voyage, two of English weather, a week 
 to return. That would suit us exactly. We got all 
 ready, and in the end Papa went and I stayed behind. 
 
 It was Mrs. Kent's fault. The Reverend Mr. Kent 
 is chief of the Kharlis Mission. Kharlis is in the back 
 wilds beyond Lake Van. The two were taking their first 
 holiday in ten years, and, for a beginning Mrs. Kent 
 caught fever. They had no particular friends in the 
 city ; it appeared to me that a bout of fever with no 
 woman you know well to look after you is a poor way 
 of spending a holiday ; so I stayed to nurse her. When 
 she stopped chanting the Azan and selections from 
 Hymns A. and M. indiscriminately and took an interest 
 in life again she was horrified. 
 
 " What will your sister think ? " she wailed. " As 
 it is a foregone conclusion she will stay in England, it 
 means that you are not likely to see her for some years. 
 And you have been parted for four " 
 
 " The dad will explain about you," I replied. " If 
 she is the kind of girl she was before she will think I 
 did right." 
 
 " But if she is not that kind of girl now, and thinks 
 it unkind of you not to come and see her " 
 
 " Then I don't care a Parthian shard for her opinion." 
 
 At the end of the month I had pulkd her on to her 
 feet again. On the thirtieth day after Papa's departure 
 we had our conversation with Mrs. Jocelyn, and when 
 we had got rid of her it was tune to go and meet the 
 ship. 
 
 We drove off, four of us, the fourth of the party
 
 38 The Coming of Evelyn 
 
 being Rifaat Bey, a delightful young Palace A.D.C., 
 who had been told off to look after us. Really ortho- 
 dox people tell me that World To Be is probably even 
 lovelier than a late summer day by the Golden Horn, 
 but it is hard to believe. Crisp, mild sunshine cutting 
 the piled houses and terraced gardens of Pera, and the 
 massed domes and minarets of Stamboul sharply against 
 the glowing sky, cool air soughing through the streets, 
 intangibly redolent of the aroma of spiced earthiness 
 that is the Eastern characteristic par excellence, the 
 diapason of a hurrying but orderly crowd in the more 
 populous parts, and in the quieter roads near the water- 
 side the dull ripple of waves and the subdued murmur 
 from the shipping. 
 
 Those same streets ran red and slimy with Armenian 
 blood in the Years of the Shambles. But I was not 
 there then, and it was not the fault of the beautiful 
 city, and it is beautiful still. 
 
 And the Bridge of Galata and its throng ! A throng 
 wherein coal-black negroes jostle bleached folk from 
 the Caucasus, where ladies in the latest Paris modes 
 brush shoulders with filthy, skin-clad Dervishes from 
 Balkh and Samarkand and Fars, Arabs in shroud- 
 like burnouses, Circassians draped with cartridge belts, 
 thick-nosed Armenians, and Mongolians with no noses 
 worth mention in their large faces, and through the 
 mass a leavening of pariah dogs and beggars, and a 
 clacking of different tongues like the minute after the 
 curse fell on Babel so that every man said to his fellow : 
 ** Excuse me, I did not catch what you said just now," 
 
 a separate language ! 
 
 On the Embassy launch we steamed out to meet the 
 little speck that stood for the ship. The waves danced, 
 the yelkovans swarmed and circled in the blue, we 
 alternately looked at St. Sophia's fairy dome and the 
 growing speck. The Bey produced binoculars.
 
 The Coming of Evelyn 39 
 
 " I can see the dad," I announced after a look. 
 
 " Where ? " Mrs. Kent took the glasses. 
 
 " By the rails before the bridge, to port," I eluci- 
 dated. " You cannot mistake his suit. I almost went 
 on my knees to try and induce him not to get that 
 chessboard pattern. He has his glasses up too. I 
 believe he sees me I am rather conspicuous in any 
 view. Yes, he is waving his hand." 
 
 " I wonder who the lady who has just joined him is," 
 said Mr. Kent, taking a look in turn. 
 
 " Somebody he has made friends with on the voyage," 
 I replied easily. " All women treat him like a pet 
 uncle after an hour's acquaintance." 
 
 " They certainly appear to be on excellent terms," 
 the missionary observed diffidently. " I may be mis- 
 taken in my impression that she embraced him fer- 
 vently just now, but she certainly has taken his glasses 
 without ceremony." 
 
 With a sudden chill at the brain I took the binoculars. 
 As I got them trained on the mysterious woman she 
 succeeded in sighting me. At once Papa's treasured 
 glasses were on the deck and she was leaning over the 
 rail blowing kisses to me. 
 
 In a dazed way, " It is Evelyn," I said.
 
 Chapter IV 
 
 A GREAT SURPRISE 
 
 EVEN alongside the ship I found it difficult to credit 
 the evidence of my senses. Only when the accommoda- 
 tion ladder was down and Evelyn was first on our 
 deck did I comprehend the overwhelming truth. With 
 the dear child in my arms, laughing a great deal and 
 almost crying a little, and planting kisses indiscrimin- 
 ately on all my features, it was no time for analysis of 
 emotions. We were nearing the landing-stage when 
 Papa spoke complacently : 
 
 " Were you surprised when you got our letters ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 " Letters ? " I repeated, " I only got one reporting 
 how every one was when you reached London." 
 
 " Only that ? " Evelyn exclaimed. " What about 
 the big packet ; with notes from grandmamma and 
 Aunt Domitia and me, saying I would come unless you 
 wired ' No ' ? " 
 
 " I never received them." 
 
 " We thought it a little odd you didn't wire at all, 
 but Papa said you always take things easily." She 
 turned on him with a reproachful finger raised. " Papa, 
 did you post that package ? " 
 
 He quailed and subsided into a weak smirk. " I 
 might have expected it ! " she cried tragically. " Was 
 there ever such a man ? " 
 
 44 'Comes of leaving Miksi behind," he apologised. 
 
 40
 
 A Great Surprise 41 
 
 She forgave him. You cannot remain long vexed 
 with a plump little brown man who looks like a school- 
 boy playing at middle-age. Particularly when he tries 
 to twist a grin of enjoyment of his own cleverness into 
 a penitential droop. " After all, it will be an extra 
 surprise for you to receive me without warning," she 
 added. 
 
 " It is," I murmured feebly. She hugged me afresh. 
 
 " And I'm to live with you for good and all, you 
 dear old thing ! " she cried. " Aren't you glad ? " 
 
 The mischief being done past remedy, I said I was 
 glad. " A comforting lie is better than a paining 
 truth," says Sa'adi. The landing-stage gave me a 
 breathing-space. 
 
 Mr. Kent stopped to see to the baggage, but even his 
 absence left five of us, and five in a carriage is vulgar. 
 The Bey went on the box and looked enough like a very 
 superior kind of footman, but I felt bank holiday-isn 
 for all that. Evelyn squeezed my hand in a state of 
 utter rapture all the way to the Rue de Pera. Papa, 
 opposite, was smiling widely, perfectly satisfied that 
 he had done something clever. I feared that Mrs. 
 Kent's efforts to suppress unseemly laughter would 
 have serious effects on her constitution. Our arrival 
 at the hotel just saved her in time. 
 
 There was some satisfaction about taking Evelyn up 
 for an introduction to Sulti. It is hard to ruffle the 
 composure of an Oriental servant, but my sister suc- 
 ceeded in the task when she advanced with outstretched 
 hand on my faithful henchwoman and demanded : 
 " Do you know me, Sulti ? " 
 
 Sulti rese to the occasion, kissed the hand, and beat 
 a masterly retreat under excuse of engaging another 
 room. Over the succeeding business of prinking and 
 afternoon tea we tided safely, likewise. Evelyn was 
 still full of rapture and talk. The first serious words 
 o*
 
 42 A Great Surprise 
 
 were spoken when she had stepped into Mrs. Kent's 
 apartments to see something. 
 
 " Mart Mary am, and she is to come with us through 
 Kurdistan Rathia Khatoun ! " whispered Sulti. " That 
 raw, and English, and too lovely little Khatoun ! The 
 saints help us ! " 
 
 Papa succeeded her, all smiles. " It was a surprise 
 for you eh, dear ? " he beamed. 
 
 " It was," I agreed, with emphasis. 
 
 He noted the tone, some of the radiance left his 
 dear, kind face. " Rathia, am I to understand that you 
 are not pleased to have your sister with you ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " You always get things wrong, dad," I hastened 
 to say. " You can see for yourself I'm delighted to 
 have the dear child delighted. But you know I 
 must think of other things. There's her wardrobe for 
 one." 
 
 " That's all right, child ; she has nine trunks and 
 seven portmanteaux," he replied easily. " I'm sure 
 she was the best-dressed woman on the ship." 
 
 " Her frills and laces are satisfactory, I don't doubt," 
 I made answer. '' What worries me is how she is off 
 for woollens and furs. En passant, I trust she has 
 brought her pet saddle." 
 
 He shook his head reproachfully, and answered in a 
 tone of gentle chiding : " Rathia, my dear child, I am 
 sorry to find fault with you, but there is a serious defect 
 in your nature. I refer to the material, almost sordid, 
 point of view which you display at times. You should 
 try and overcome this tendency, Rathia ; look always at 
 the bright and beautiful side of life, and trust Providence 
 for all mere necessities." 
 
 I said I would. Anything to please him. All the 
 same, it seems to me that Providence attends to neces- 
 sities by sending us the sense and energy to attend to
 
 A Great Surprise 43 
 
 them for ourselves. I was still feeling rather sore when 
 I settled down for a talk with Evelyn. 
 
 " Home's in the Fifth now," she informed me. " No 
 end of prizes, but such a scamp ! It takes all a girl's 
 pocket-money to keep him out of rows with Grandpapa. 
 
 How he'll manage now 1 He says it is all heredity, 
 
 and has collected such a lot of tales about Papa's 
 Harrovian days. Aren't we proud of Papa, too ! By 
 the way, and strictly between us, are you not sorry 
 he accepted that knighthood ? " 
 
 " I felt like tearing my hair when he wired he had 
 accepted it. It was a task to sham pleasure. He only 
 did it to draw public attention to the Fund, but it's 
 detestable." 
 
 " It is," she agreed. " Any one can be made a K.C.B. 
 but it takes brains to become a Professor. Is that why 
 you have been so sad ever since we arrived ? " she asked 
 suddenly. 
 
 " Sad, Evelyn ? " I repeated. 
 
 " Well, you are not the jolly Rathia of four years ago. 
 Are you so vexed about the title ? Or have you grown 
 reserved and subdued ? Or " her womanly intuition 
 leapt to the truth " are you not really pleased to have 
 me here ? " 
 
 For a few minutes I was too taken aback by the 
 abrupt inquiry to find an answer, and sat looking at her 
 in silence. No doubt about her beauty. A year before, 
 when her Presentation photograph came to Mosul, Papa 
 winced at the first glimpse, and told me I might keep 
 it in my own quarters. He did not say that it hurt 
 him because it was so like her mother, but I knew, 
 even without aid of the passage in her accompanying 
 letter : 
 
 " And, do you know, Rathia, old ladies and old 
 gentlemen introduce me to one another as : * Beauty 
 Congreve's little girl ' ? Every ne remembers Mamma
 
 44 A Great Surprise 
 
 so well ; did you find out what a celebrity she was when 
 you were Out ? " 
 
 And, now that I beheld her, full-grown, Beauty 
 Congreve's daughter was a fit successor to her mother's 
 reputation. Four years before she had been in the 
 betwixt and between stage, all black stockings and hair 
 and eyes ; the interval had developed her into a girl of 
 Du Manner's loveliest type : slender, flat-backed, and 
 wide-shouldered, with small, proudly set head, wide- 
 spaced eyes, the tint of purest Naishapour turquoises, 
 drooping under-lids, a spare, sharply cut chin, and 
 slightly waving hair of rich golden-brown. 
 
 My silence as I considered her must have been omi- 
 nous to the poor child. When I ceased to take too much 
 abstract interest in her beauty to notice the human 
 details of it the heavenly eyes were shaded and the 
 sweet, full underlip tucked in, like a child's, to stop its 
 quivering. No deceiving her was possible. I gathered 
 her in my arms, kissed the troubled lids and lips, and 
 told the unadulterated truth a thing I do not always 
 consider advisable. 
 
 " 1 am glad, so glad, to have you with me, my dear," 
 I said. " So glad. I am only troubled to think of your 
 being dragged through Kurdistan a land of discomforts 
 and misery, hardships, and evil sights and tales." 
 
 " Is that all ? " she brightened at once. " If you can 
 stand it I can. That's what Papa said when Grand- 
 mamma and the Aunties wanted to wait for an answer 
 from you before we started." 
 
 " My accompanying him has spoilt Papa. Asiatic 
 Turkey is no place for a lady ; I am simply the necessary 
 exception to the rule. I know the peoples of it, their 
 ways, their tongues, their habits of thought. Now you 
 have lived in England for years " 
 
 " But I remember Turkey well, and it was heavenly." 
 
 " My dear girl, in those days we were under Mamma's
 
 A Great Surprise 45 
 
 kind, capable wing," I replied gently. " Now we rough 
 it. People will say we rough it en prince, but I really 
 am concerned as to how you will face the seamy side 
 of an antiquary's life. Tenting is not always an abso- 
 lute Gulistan ; sometimes we can't even tent it, and some 
 of the places where we have sheltered " 
 
 " If you can stand it, I can," she responded stoutly. 
 
 " Inshallah ! " I responded. " Look, for instance, at 
 the drinking-water question. What will you do if you 
 happen to espy our man-of-all-work filling the tea-kettle 
 at a village duck-pond a Turkish village pond ? " 
 
 ** Throw something at him. And then have hysterics, 
 I presume, or faint. It won't matter, as you can attend 
 to me." 
 
 " I'll simply pinch you, quant, suft., in either case, 
 so do not try the experiment, my dear. And I give 
 you fair warning that a great deal of my time is spent 
 in doctoring native ailments." 
 
 *' I'll help. I used to attend to all the school-room 
 splinters and burns after you left." 
 
 " Um 'm. And when we are up north do you think 
 you will mind having to break the ice on your bath 
 water every morning ? " 
 
 " Since, from your tone, you are accustomed to that ; 
 you can do it for me." 
 
 " You certainly have one of the gifts of a born anti- 
 quary ! " I cried, laughing. 
 
 " Cheek ? " she peeped at me demurely through her 
 golden lashes. " Then you don't consider me such a 
 hopeless case ? " 
 
 " I begin to have hope. One question, though. You 
 know we do all our travelling a chcval; can you 
 ride ? " 
 
 " Rathia I that to a Northampton girl ! Don't you 
 remember ' ' 
 
 " that you used to turn up at meets on an awful
 
 46 A Great Surprise 
 
 little scrub of a pony ? Yes, but can you now ride 
 w-e-double 1, my dear ? " 
 
 She dived for an open trunk and fished out a waistcoat. 
 "There" exhibiting the garment triumphantly "Hunt 
 buttons ! And you know they're the only things 
 besides the V.C. and Order of St. John of Jerusalem 
 that can't go by favour or money. Dear, if I promise 
 to be good and obedient, I won't be such a drag after 
 all, will I ? " 
 
 Again she peered, adorably coaxing, through the 
 aureate screen. I hugged her again for answer, and we 
 addressed ourselves seriously to the wardrobe question.
 
 Chapter V 
 
 WE GO TO THE PLAY 
 
 As a ruler Abdul the Ever Praiseworthy had his short- 
 comings, but it is not for the Jerningham family to sit 
 in judgment on him. One of life's most distressing 
 problems crops up when you have accepted favours 
 from a man who afterwards indulges in a course of 
 conduct to which you cannot conscientiously accord 
 your approbation, and you cannot get rid of a feeling 
 of gratitude towards him. 
 
 Certainly the Last of the Real Padishahs heaped 
 attentions on us, and the crowning one came a week 
 after Papa's return. The hotel was thrown into a 
 
 flutter over the sudden coming of H Bey and a 
 
 group of palace officials. They bore the insignia of the 
 Liakat for Papa, the Nisan-i-Shefaket for me, and the 
 firman. And what a firman ! 
 
 " A personal favour to your father, Jerningham 
 
 Effendina," H Bey whispered as he departed. 
 
 " Also the last of such range that ever will be granted." 
 
 When they were gone we spread it out and gloated. 
 " It's a beauty ! " I declared. 
 
 " It is ; it would do to trim a matinee hat," Evelyn 
 agreed. 
 
 As she could not read Jari her attention was devoted 
 to the caligraphic flourishes and the bourgeoning of 
 seals. I was thinking of the subject-matter. 
 
 " ' This is the Noble, Exalted, Brilliant Sign Manual, 
 
 47
 
 48 
 
 the World-illuminating and Adorning Cipher of the 
 Khaquan (may it be made Efficient by the aid of the 
 Lord and the protection of the Eternal ! ). His Order 
 is ' " 
 
 And, to paraphrase, the tenor was that Abdul Hamid, 
 by the Grace of Allah, Padishah, Khalifah, Amiru '1 
 Muamin, and Shadow of Allah on earth, empowered 
 Sir Home Jernmgham, Knight Companion of the Most 
 Honourable Order of the Bath, Commander of the Most 
 Exalted Orders of the Liakat and Medjidieh, Master of 
 Arts and Doctor of Literature, to make such excavations 
 as his wisdom directed in all land, saving musjid bounds 
 and places of interment, within the Vilayets of Van, 
 Mosul, and Baghdad. And further ordered that all 
 Valis, Mutessariffs, and lesser officials should assist the 
 said Sir Home Jerningham and so forth. 
 
 When we had quite done our gloating " I forgot to 
 tell you, girls," said Papa. " The Persian Ambassador 
 met me this morning ; he sent his compliments to you, 
 Rathia, and wants us all to come to the Tazzia to-night. 
 I did not like to decline outright, so said I'd see if you 
 had any previous engagement." 
 
 " We might as well go," I replied. 
 
 " Rathia ! The Muharram show I You have been 
 there before." 
 
 " Precisely ; but Evelyn has not." 
 
 " Just as well. It's not a scene for ladies. Though 
 Heaven knows plenty of them patronise it." 
 
 " What is it ? " demanded Evelyn, all agog. 
 
 " Ashura Day, tenth of the month Muharram. It's a 
 kind of Passion Play procession. " 
 
 " Let's go," she begged. 
 
 " It's nasty," he replied, and, naturally, redoubled 
 her desire. 
 
 " And dirty," he concluded, and made up her mind 
 for her. She plumped down on the sofa beside him
 
 We Go to the Play 49 
 
 and coaxed. To save time, I wrote the acceptance 
 while he was resisting. " I shall put on a skirt and 
 shoes I won't mind burning afterwards," I observed. 
 " And I'd advise you to do the same." 
 
 " How sweetly mysterious ! " she gushed. " What 
 is it like ? " 
 
 " 1 Kings xviii. 28, child," said Papa grimly. 
 
 " I don't remember what that is, and I will not look 
 it up, but keep to-night for a surprise," she returned. 
 
 During the preceding week, between bouts of shopping, 
 we had taken her to see the regulation lions. Papa took 
 us over the Seraglio and Treasury, and bought her a 
 little, snapping yellow dog from the Sultan's kennelman. 
 We went to Friday Selamlik procession. We took her 
 to St. Sophia, and she was disappointed* because I could 
 not specify the exact spot where the wall opened and 
 closed again after the priest had stepped in with the 
 Host as the Islamites were taking Byzantium. We 
 showed her the Riven Tower, and the little-known, 
 ever-burning lamp over the spot where the last Con- 
 stantine of Byzantium lies, and the Golden Gate through 
 which the Conqueror rode in triumph, and which has 
 been bricked up ever since to turn aside the prophecy 
 that another Conqueror will in his time follow leader 
 through it. Rifaat Bey arranged picnics at the Sweet 
 Waters, at Kendeli, and the Forest of Belgrade, and 
 escorted us to hear the Arab cacophony at the Holy 
 Well, and to spend a happy day with his pretty wife 
 on rose-grown Prinkipo. For the improvement of her 
 mind, we spent likewise a couple of days at Brusa with 
 Mrs. Kent as dragon, saw the Ladies' Baths at Chakgireh, 
 and bought corn out of Sultan Selim's Bowl for Mu- 
 
 hammadan friends at Mosul. Finally, Madame H 
 
 Bey and I introduced her to several harems where we 
 were on visiting terms. 
 
 She made a sensation. Turks do not say much, but
 
 50 We Go to the Play 
 
 several ladies assured me that they would not have had 
 her as an inmate of their establishments not for my 
 envied Order of the Shefaket. An oblique tribute to the 
 Congreve good looks. The girl was in a state of ecstasy 
 all the time. " I do not see much difference between 
 Orientals and Europeans, except that Orientals are 
 pleasantest," she informed me on the sixth day. 
 
 That was what made me think it would do her good 
 to see the Tazzia. . . . 
 
 Behold us then, at dusk, driving to the Persian 
 quarter, the Bey on the box, Mrs. Kent coming as 
 Propriety, and in a state of disgusted astonishment at 
 me. She, also, had been there before. 
 
 The procession's custom is to make several circuits 
 of the khans ofthe Iranian district during the evening. 
 The Ambassador had hired a big room with a balcony 
 overlooking the courtyard of the principal establishment. 
 There they waited for the tamasha to begin, while the 
 Ambassador's pretty little slave-boy ran round with 
 weak Persian tea and peppery Persian cigarettes, and 
 Evelyn leant staring over the balcony rail and amused 
 us all with her griffin enthusiasm. 
 
 The vast square presented a scene bizarre enough, and 
 redolent enough of the East to satisfy the most deter- 
 mined searcher after local colour. Immense petroleum 
 bonfires flared here and there, casting lurid light upon 
 the trunks of the trees that dotted the space, and giving 
 an added blackness to the dark boscage of their upper 
 branches, which led up and melted into the dusky sky, 
 and imparting an extra tang to the reek of stale scent, 
 sewer-gas, and infrequently washed humanity which 
 packed every inch of the quadrangle save a narrow lane 
 that was kept clear by white-wanded volunteer police. 
 Down this lane in due course came the pageant, preceded 
 by the sound of chanting topped by childish voices 
 wailing : " Hosain kafan na-dared ! " in piteous chorus.
 
 We Go to the Play 51 
 
 The crowd hushed, and we all pressed to view Con- 
 stantinople's contribution to the annual unchaining of 
 the hysteria of the Shiah world. 
 
 ** Hosain kafan na-dared ! " So the chorus soughed 
 and wailed. " Means ' Hosain had no winding-sheet,' 
 Evie," I explained as the train filed past in the glare 
 of the fires. ' You see, the whole performance is in 
 memory of Hosain, the Prophet's grandson. The 
 Shiahs think he was the last true Khalif." 
 
 First passed a company of children on horseback 
 with men afoot beside them, the men gesticulating, 
 reciting inarticulately scraps from the Saga of Hosain, 
 and crying. Then a snowy-white Kermanshah stallion 
 with two doves tethered to its crimson velvet saddle. 
 
 " Symbol of the souls of Hosain and his brother 
 Hasan, Effen'," Rifaat Bey informed Evelyn. 
 
 A bier followed, borne shoulder-high; on it a little 
 figure stuck all over with arrows and smeared realistic- 
 ally with gouts of scarlet paint. 
 
 " Ali Akhbar, son of Hosain, Effen'," volunteered the 
 Bey. " Hosain and all his people were slain at Kerbela 
 by the Syrians supporting the rival Khalif Yezid ; and 
 that is why these folk weep." 
 
 The close-packed mass below was beginning to sway 
 and rock as a chant in unison rose from it : " Hasan 
 Ya ! Hosain ! Hosain ! Hosain Ya ! Hosain kafan 
 na-dared ! " Keeping them company in it, a rabble of 
 men and boys was streaming past after Ali Akhbar's 
 bearers. 
 
 " These Shiahs think Hasan and Hosain were the last 
 of the Rightly Directed Khalifahs, Effen'," the Bey pro- 
 claimed. " I am Sunni." 
 
 " And do not Sunnis believe in the Rightly Directed 
 Khalifahs ? " she inquired. 
 
 " Effen', we hold that or Padihah, the most powerful 
 Moslem prince of his day, is the Khalifah."
 
 52 We Go to the Play 
 
 *' You do not keep Muharram, then ? " 
 
 The Bey shook his head gravely. He had been watch- 
 ing the Shiah celebration with the expression a Plymouth 
 Brother might be expected to wear if he found himself 
 hi Naples on the Day of St. Januarius. " Nay, Effen'," 
 he answered. " Still, to-day we fast, remembering that 
 on Ashura Day it pleased Allah Al Khaliq to create 
 Adam and Eve, Hell and Heaven, the Pen, Life and 
 Death. He is Great and Merciful ! " 
 
 To the number of a thousand and more the men and 
 boys had now filed past, then came the cream of the 
 cortege. It was divided into three bands. The first a 
 company of men in white shirts open over the hairy 
 chests, on which they smote each fist alternately in perfect 
 unison and in time to their shouts of " Ya Hasan 1 Ya 
 Hosain ! " The men of the second group, white-clad also, 
 swung each a length of chain rhythmically, with a 
 dancing motion and a clanging chorus. The third divi- 
 sion sidled along, in two lines facing one another, each 
 man grasping the girdle of his neighbour with his left 
 hand and swinging a sword with his right. Between the 
 lines paced men reciting the Saga of the Death of Hosain. 
 The whole glanced into the light of the bonfire opposite 
 us, out of the dusk it came from, and streamed into the 
 dusk ahead, and so on in order en route for the next khan. 
 
 " It was very interesting," said Evelyn, as we all 
 began to talk again, and the girl-faced Kalianchi busied 
 himself with the refreshments. Her voice, less polite 
 than her words, added : "Is that all ? " 
 
 " Wait a bit ; they must warm to their work," I 
 returned. 
 
 We leant together on the rail. The crowd was chant- 
 ing with increased fervour : " Hosain kafan na-dared ! " 
 Here and there a man stood reciting ; round these the 
 enthusiasm thickened, rough, coarse men sobbed like 
 children over the tale of how Hosain died at holy, fatal
 
 53 
 
 Kerbela. "What is the difference between Sunnis and 
 Shiahs ? " she asked. 
 
 " To European experience it is the difference between 
 Spaniards of Torquemada's time and modern Broad 
 Church folk. In rustic regions, when the bucolic Sunni 
 beholds a European lady he contents himself with 
 flinging mud and the proper feminine for unclean animals. 
 The Shiah Colin Clout, under similar ponditions, uses 
 cobbles and aims for the face." 
 
 " What a lot of different types ! " she commented. 
 " Who is that ? " 
 
 She indicated a tall youth who was chanting in a fine 
 baritone, his eyes aflame, his hands gesticulating pas- 
 sionately, and the foam on his lips, in a packed circle 
 that wept and wrung its hands. 
 
 " A Rawzekhan, a professional elegy -singer. From 
 Shiraz, by his accent. Most probably he has soap in 
 his mouth ; he will certainly pass round the cap when he 
 thinks he has racked the feelings of his hearers a full 
 piastre's-worth." 
 
 " Well, I suppose he must earn his living. The 
 emotion of the audience is genuine, at any rate. What 
 is the short, handsome man who is blubbering aloud 
 and has to mop his eyes on his fur jacket whenever the 
 singer says * Hosain ! ' in falsetto ? " 
 
 " A Mingrelian. And the two with greasy black 
 plaits are Lazes." 
 
 " And the moustached Apollo by the nearest fire ? " 
 
 Her Apollo was a young man in a shawl jacket, sailor 
 trousers of sky blue silk, and a voluminous shawl-sash. 
 Yards of silver chain were draped round him and 
 attached to a torquoise-hiltcd dagger at his waist ; his 
 nose was of falcon pattern, his moustache dyed bright 
 orange and peaking downlike the tusks of a walrus. He 
 was not over six-and- thirty, and a silver badge glittered 
 at the front of his red-and-white turban.
 
 54 We Go to the Play 
 
 " A Kurd. A Beg by token of his turban, and prob- 
 ably from the neighbourhood of Lake Van you shall 
 see it Inshallah, Evelyn ! the badge is that of the 
 Padishah's new bodyguard, the Hamidieh." 
 
 " And the people on the adjoining balcony ? " she 
 proceeded, with a twinkle in her skyey eyes. 
 
 " Your ethnology is indifferent, even for your years, 
 if you do not know a Yankee tourist when you see it," 
 I replied. 
 
 The Americans were chaperoned by a Syrian drago- 
 man, and were four in number, a trio of pretty, fluffy- 
 haired girls and a high-nosed, supercilious, tall, and 
 swarthy young man, clean-shaven, blue of chin, and 
 bearing rather a likeness to a whitewashed Cherokee. 
 The girls were discussing St. Sophia with their escort 
 and shirt-waists with one another by alternations. 
 
 " And did you notice the print of the hand on the wall, 
 Connie ? such a duck ! I noticed one exactly like it in 
 Peter Robinson's window Sultan Mahomet put it there 
 when he climbed up the pile of dead Christians with 
 two tucks all round and you can see through the white- 
 wash the figures of the angels in Liberty silk " 
 
 At this point the chant of the returning procession 
 became audible. An added wildness was about it. 
 Again the cortege streamed along the lane. The noise 
 was now deafening. The several units glanced into 
 the bale-fire light fronting us, from out of the close- 
 packed, murmurous, night-capped dark behind ; and 
 swirled out of view into the crowd and murk ahead. 
 The children at the head reeled in their saddles, squealing 
 most abominably in the extremity of hysterical emotion, 
 the men beside them stuttered over the recital with voices 
 half cracked. Ali Akhbar rocked on his bier as his 
 bearers swayed, drunk with emotion ; the rabble of men 
 and lads flowed past screaming and tearing their hair, 
 some bit their arms and howled, animal-like, with
 
 We Go to the Play 55 
 
 mouths choked by flesh, some rolled down, foaming, 
 and were trampled underfoot. 
 
 Then the devotees. The first was heralded by a 
 steady thunder, like the crash of steam-hammers on 
 wood, as they beat their breasts in regular cadence and 
 with all their strength. 
 
 A clanking like the cacophony of a Cunarder's anchor- 
 links running out preceded the second group as, with 
 unaltered regularity, they swung their chains over their 
 heads now and down on their naked backs until the torn 
 flesh streamed red. 
 
 The third company was less noisy. The two lines 
 still swung on, sideways and steadily, but now the 
 blades were coming down in good earnest on heads and 
 shoulders. Chance puffs of breeze brought to us the 
 acrid sickly reek that cannot be mistaken for anything 
 else. The shirts were half red, the pavement, as they 
 passed, trickled red, with smeary red footprints at the 
 edges ; a few fell out of the ranks. One with a cut artery 
 rolled and died against a pillar of our balcony. Then 
 some of the police rushed in, falling into step and holding 
 staves over their heads to keep the devotees from hacking 
 one another to death. 
 
 " I think it is time to go," said Evelyn, when the tail 
 of the red and white procession had vanished into the 
 continuation of the dusk it came from. 
 
 " But Inshallah ! they will be round again, Evelyn 
 Khanoum," the Ambassador informed her anxiously. 
 He was a nice, fatherly old gentleman, who loved to see 
 young folk enjoying themselves. 
 
 " We have a saying in Frankistan that enough is as 
 good as a feast, Excellency," she repXed demurely. 
 
 So we gave him the " Khuda Hafiz," and departed 
 So ended the Passion Play, and so to the Afterpiece.
 
 Chapter VI 
 
 WE ACT IN THE AFTERPIECE 
 
 EVEN in that short time, thanks to the heat, the pools 
 on the track of the procession had begun to coagulate ; 
 a little opalescence flickered on them in the leaping fire- 
 light. The people were still hah 9 entranced with hysteria 
 and our kavasses would have made an undisturbed way 
 for us to the lane where our carriage waited but for the 
 Americans. 
 
 They had had enough, too, and, escorted by one of 
 their Embassy kavasses, were walking nearly abreast of 
 us. The crowd scowled at us for misbelievers, but made 
 a way for the Bey's uniform. 
 
 He was deep in conversation with Evelyn. " Now, 
 Effen'," he began, " can you tell me why Prankish ladies 
 come to gaze at these ugly sights ? " 
 
 " Indeed, I cannot, Bey Effen'. Ask me an easier 
 question, ask me when, for instance, a door is not a 
 door ! " 
 
 " 'When is a door not a door' ? " he repeated in 
 bewilderment. 
 
 S-he gave him the answer, and, as he stared blankly, 
 explained in detail. At the conclusion he smiled a cere- 
 monial smile. 
 
 " Chok yakshi ! Ajar, a little open ; a jar, a vase. 
 Mas'allah, an excellent play on words 1 " he pronounced 
 solemnly. 
 
 The Americans were near, within easy earshot. It 
 
 6
 
 We Act in the Afterpiece 
 
 certainly was overpowering to encounter somebody who 
 spoke English like an Oxford don and yet did not know 
 the doyen of conundrums. The Bey's pronouncement 
 was too much for the overstrung nerves of one of the 
 girls; she giggled shrilly. 
 
 " Don't do that again if you do not want to get us all 
 massacred," I said, turning to her. 
 
 She was sober enough with offended dignity at once, 
 but it looked as. though the mischief was done already. 
 The Hamidieh Bey was near us ; at sound of the irrita- 
 ting nasal cachinnation, which jarred perceptibly on the 
 nerves of every one within hearing, he swung round to 
 face us, his features dusky red. 
 
 "Penah be Khoda 1 " he snarled. "Look, O my 
 brethren, see ye how the dog-fathered of Frankistan 
 bring their women without shame, the daughters of a 
 long line of noseless mothers, to jeer our Tazzia ! " 
 
 The Zaza he used, speaking primarily to a knot of his 
 countrymen, was unintelligible to the majority of folk 
 present, but his look and tone after that maddening 
 giggle were enough. The mob ceased to make way for 
 us. We were isolated in a sea of enraged, low-class 
 Eastern fanatics, and the ominous cries, " Kupak 
 Ogli ! " " Naisri ! Isawi ! " began to rise. 9 
 
 " Beg Effen', Beg Effen', place the Snaffle of Discre- 
 tion on the Tongue of Thoughtlessness, in Name of 
 Allah 'r Rashed ! " cried our dismayed A.D.C. to the 
 Kurd. " Thou wilt cause a riot, and endanger the 
 lives orf these the friends of our lord the Padishah." 
 
 " Naught know I of friends of our lord the Padishah 
 Allah Al Hafiz be with him now and ever ! I do but 
 speak a true word concerning certain Isawi, the spawn 
 of burnt parents, who come to flout our holy mystery," 
 So the Beg replied in careful Turkish. 
 
 The murmurs grew ominous. Papa and the American 
 man looked grim, the dragoman unostentatiously melted
 
 58 We Act in the Afterpiece 
 
 away from our dangerous vicinity, the three kavasses 
 joined forces and tried to make a cordon round the eight 
 of us. The Bey tried authority. 
 
 " Effen', I am an officer of the Sultan's household " 
 
 he began. 
 
 " Thou art a Sunni, and what is it to thee that Hosain 
 lay without a shroud at Kerbela, and that Giaours come 
 to mock thereat ? " 
 
 Things were beginning to look black for us. A pebble 
 took off Papa's hat. I drew Evelyn's arm through 
 mine and was charmed to find it so steady. "Thy 
 friends be Isawi," the Kurd continued. 
 
 In Turkey every self-respecting person objects to 
 being called a Christian" publicly. I objected. It 
 appeared to me high time that somebody took that 
 Kurd in hand. "Ye of the Hamidieh were brought 
 to Roum to be soldiers of the Padishah, yea, and to 
 keep order within his domains, yea, even within this 
 part that is not an hour's ride from his own House of 
 the Star," I said, stepping forward. " Can one make 
 attar of nettles, however ? Can one, I pray thee 
 answer, make soldiers of wild animals ? Nay, not the 
 Padishah's self ; it is well said in the old saying : * The 
 Kuigl, be he Pir or brigand, is evermore a bear.' ' 
 
 He gaped at the phenomenon of a Prankish lady dis- 
 coursing flawless Zaza and Kurdish bywords. I had 
 brought Evelyn into danger and now there was no royal 
 road out saving de Vaudace, et toujours de Vaudace. 
 " Now it is perceptible to my understanding that thy 
 conduct is dictated by wisdom, my brother," I pro- 
 ceeded. " Whatever power thou mayest exercise over 
 thine handful of a tribe, thou hast no real influence 
 within this city, and to hide the fact thou pretendest 
 thou art too much of a Kurd of a bear of the moun- 
 tains to understand thy duty as one of the Hamidieh." 
 
 And I sneered. Toujours de Vaudace ! He turned
 
 We Act in the Afterpiece 59 
 
 and bawled a command in Zaza, every Kurd within 
 hearing pushed to him, they formed a ring round us, 
 and, with blows and threats, drove a way to the lane 
 where we were bound. And none resisted the Hamidieh. 
 
 Our lane was empty. By the carriage my Beg put 
 his hand to his knee, breast, and brow, and bowed deeply 
 to me. " Thou errest, Khanoum. Ischaryar Beg of 
 Kilmaru forgets for an eyelid's twinkle that he is a 
 guardsman of the Padishah, but for all that he is as 
 well able by the Grace of Allah to keep order here 
 as amidst his own tribe. And of the order he keeps in 
 his tribe ; and it is more than a handful Mas'allah ! 
 the Khanoum shall learn if it please Him to guide her 
 footsteps to Kalmaru." 
 
 " If Allah 'r Hashed brought me to Kalmaru I fear 
 Ischaryar Beg would remember my taunt of to-night," 
 I replied, smiling full in his eyes. 
 
 He looked back fairly. " Khanoum, Ischaryar will 
 remember that in great, lonely Roum he heard for the 
 one time an unveiled woman speak to him in his own 
 tongue. Sweet is sweet water in the desert, Khanoum. 
 Our unveiled women lash us with the tongue into doing 
 as they decree. When Ischaryar heard the old sound 
 in Roum he told himself it was his sister railing at him." 
 
 He bowed again, and, without waiting an answer, 
 clanked back to the khan with his compatriots at his 
 heels. 
 
 Evelyn made me translate twice over during the 
 ensuing drive. At the Rue de Pera we elected to walk 
 the rest of the way ; it was still early. The scene was 
 peaceful, a night watchman was going his rounds, 
 tapping the flagstones with a staff as he went to warn 
 evil-doers of his approach, in accordance with municipal 
 regulations. The wan moonshine paved our way with 
 checkerwork of white light and black shadow, in secluded 
 corners pariah dogs were trying the worn recipe : " He
 
 60 We Act in the Afterpiece 
 
 (and she and the baby) who sleeps sups," and, for a 
 piece of luck, when we reached a quiet stretch the 
 Americans were preceding us, within easy earshot. 
 
 They were discoursing in their national falsetto and 
 nothing short of putting my hands over my ears could 
 save me from eavesdropping. Papa and Mrs. Kent 
 were holding an animated discussion, pianissimo, across 
 me, Evelyn and her aide were equally absorbed behind 
 us. What could I do ? 
 
 " It was some Kurdish dialect," the young man was 
 saying. 
 
 " I'm certain sure it was bad language," the prettiest 
 of the girls replied in accents of awed delight. " It 
 sounded soft and spitty at the same time, and I've 
 heard that nothing but swearing will make an Oriental 
 hustle round quick. I wonder who she is, anyhow. 
 The perfectly exquisite fair girl and the prim lady were 
 British for sure ; but she looked like a Greek, or perhaps 
 Irish." 
 
 " It happens I can satisfy your thirst for information, 
 Cousin May," the man replied. " She is Eurasian." 
 
 They were probably speaking of some one else ; in any 
 case, the remarks of an underbred Yankee tourist were 
 of no moment to me. All the same a hot wave crept 
 over my cheeks. 
 
 " My ! How romantic ! " cried Cousin May. 
 
 The others squawked with equal rapture. " How do 
 you know, Cousin Harvey ? " asked one. 
 
 " She was pointed out to me by the dragoman I 
 wonder where he has absquatulated to, by the way 
 he could not remember her name, but knew her father 
 is an Englishman and her mother some kind of a 
 nigger." 
 
 A nigger ? The miniature, painted as a tribute of 
 infatuation by the Expedition draughtsman in '70, 
 burnt against my skin inside my bodice.
 
 We Act in the Afterpiece 61 
 
 " Why, she looked quite a lady," the youngest girl 
 exclaimed. " I wonder what she's like at home ? " 
 
 " Who knows ? Quite a lady, perhaps," the man 
 replied pleasantly. " Perhaps for I distrust half- 
 breeds ; the civilised veneer is generally only skin-deep. 
 You never know what games they may be up to." 
 
 " P'raps she's a cannibal in private life, and goes on 
 all fours, and smokes a chibouque," Cousin May giggled. 
 
 The youngest girl was more charitable. " 'Tanyrate, 
 she was just lovely," she decreed. " Her voice was so 
 sweet, and refined too " 
 
 " And her piebald hair ? I trust that is sweet and 
 refined too ? " the man put in. My face could go no 
 hotter. 
 
 " Oh, I thought the albino lock just cute ! " replied 
 the youngest girl. 
 
 " I grant there is no fault to be found with our fair 
 if flamboyant unknown's looks," the man conceded 
 graciously. " My objections to her are simply founded 
 on belief in the dictum that Heaven made the white man 
 and the black, but not the Eurasian, and an ingrained 
 personal prejudice against yellow gals " 
 
 At that hideous moment Evelyn laughed. The 
 speaker glanced over his shoulder, caught my tell-tale 
 eye, and had the belated grace to go red. Men never 
 blush, they simply go red in the face. I kept his eye 
 for a moment with the blankest stare I could compass. 
 He hurriedly steered his party to the opposite side of 
 the street. 
 
 " Hullo, what's the matter with you, child ? " asked 
 Papa, peering up at me suddenly. 
 
 " Nothing," I replied. 
 
 " * Nothing ' in that tone, means a lot," he com- 
 mented. " Why, you are as pink as a pomegranate 1 ! " 
 
 " And you don't blush easily, you know ! '-' Mrs. Kent 
 added with friendly candour.
 
 62 We Act in the Afterpiece 
 
 " I'm tired," I said evasively. 
 
 " I believe she's hungry," said Evelyn in an im- 
 personal tone. " I am. I presume, dad, there is not 
 time enough before supper to run round to Abdullah's 
 and have her picture took before the blush is quite 
 gone ? " 
 
 " I think she's suffering from a tardy attack of re- 
 morse for having let you go to that show,T he suggested. 
 
 " Amen ! " agreed Evelyn. When we were un- 
 wrapping in our dressing-room a little later she turned 
 on me suddenly. 
 
 " Why did you take me there ? " she demanded. 
 
 " From policy," I answered steadily. " I saw you 
 were acquiring too rosy an idea of the East, so I gave 
 you a glimpse of the fanaticism hidden under the 
 veneer." 
 
 " But why ? Why ? " 
 
 " Because I know the East, and I have known girls 
 fresh from the West who would not listen to old resi- 
 dents " 
 
 " I have been taught to listen to my elders," she 
 interrupted. 
 
 " I know. But obeying them is another matter." 
 I dropped my acid tone for one of earnestness. " The 
 East is not wholly populated by obsequious servants, 
 obliging Sultans, well-bred harem ladies, and agreeable 
 aides, Evelyn. When we are three Europeans alone 
 amidst numberless fanatics of the kind I have shown 
 you to-night will you try and obey me, and try to believe 
 I know the best ? " 
 
 " I will," she promised frankly. Still, a little doubtful 
 look was in her tell-tale English eyes. " You seem to 
 have rather ugly ideas of impressing a lesson at times, 
 Rathia," she added.
 
 BOOK II 
 IN HARRIED KURDISTAN
 
 Chapter I 
 
 THE AUTUMN RISING 
 
 AT Trebizond Miksi Gauriel awaited us, with all ready 
 for a rapid march to Van. The Miksi is Papa's right- 
 hand man-of-all-work ; in everything, from valeting to 
 archaeological superintendence, he is known all about 
 the Two Great Rivers as " Miksi Kara," the Black 
 Pilgrim, from the tint of his moustache and the bush of 
 little tight plaits that adorns his neck and shoulders. 
 Kara is black, and Miksi a title bestowed on Christians 
 who have visited the Sepulchre, as Moslems are Hajjis 
 after they have heard the Khutbeh on Arafat. 
 
 I do not remember life without Miksi Gauriel's dyed 
 plaits somewhere in sight. In England he was taken 
 for a Bashi Bazouk of the most ferocious type, indeed, 
 with his Robinson Crusoe hat surmounting falcon-like 
 features, his jaunty foal's-hair jacket, peg-top trousers 
 stuffed into high boots, and belt tightened out with a 
 small armoury, the old fellow looks like anything but 
 what he is. And he is a Deacon of the Chaldaean 
 Church, the oldest communion of Christendom, founded 
 by the Magi on their return from Bethlehem. 
 
 By order he had bought an excellent Kurdish mount 
 for Evelyn, and had also in readiness the proper comple- 
 ment of riding and baggage mules, two zaptiehs for 
 escort, Papa's fiddle-headed Kermanshah roan, and 
 my bay mare Arjamand. Arjamand is the neatest 
 little Hajin that was ever trotted about Mosul market 
 3 65
 
 66 The Autumn Rising 
 
 with a pedigree from Kubleh the half-divine tied to her 
 silken mane. 
 
 We reached Van sans accidents, by way of Erzeroum. 
 It is not the easiest of roads, but Evelyn came out 
 admirably. She was her mother over again in more 
 than looks, heat and cold as the road led up or down, 
 rough quarters, trying fellow-travellers she positively 
 enjoyed it all. Even when we were stranded at a 
 roofless Seljouk caravanserai, where a lovely tomb with 
 Cufic inscriptions across the way and a brace of stone 
 lions to the doorposts did not, to my mind, compensate 
 for the drawback of the servants being lost with the 
 luggage, and we had to retire supperless to an adaman- 
 tine couch of one blanket and a horse-cloth, her sole 
 comment was : " To think of the years I have wasted 
 in England ! " 
 
 So we came to Van, and the European residents re- 
 joiced. In those days they sometimes did not see a 
 white stranger for two years at a stretch. As we 
 wished to excavate a mound some miles to S.W., we set 
 up headquarters at Vastan, on the shore of Lake Van. 
 There Evelyn and I spent most of our time, entertaining 
 guests from Van and all around while Papa attended to 
 the work. 
 
 The Kents stayed with us for a week, and took Evelyn 
 back to Kharlis with them. We were to start for Mosul 
 in a short time ; the arrangement was that we would 
 wire and Mr. Kent would take her to meet us at Kochma, 
 a town on the main road a day's journey from Kharlis. 
 That is how the Autumn Rising found us separated. 
 
 In autumn the nomad Kurds move from their hill 
 quarters to winter stations in the plains, and as they 
 move they leave a trail of robbery and murder. At this 
 season, furthermore, the sedentary tribes indulge in 
 little outbursts of animal spirits : tribal fights and some 
 slaying of tax-gatherers and native Christians.
 
 The Autumn Rising 67 
 
 We stayed too long over our work, the mound was 
 in a sheltered valley, and we were tempted to linger 
 until snow was reported from the mountains and the 
 news grew ominous. My kinsmen on the distaff side 
 had been discreetly well-behaved for a time. They had 
 been letting the sheep's wool grow, as they facetiously 
 put it : letting the Christian villagers get in the crops 
 and scrape together a little money before robbing them ; 
 now the annual rows began. They were unexpected!)' 
 bad that year ; half the Artousha were up, the unspeak- 
 able Herki were worse than usual, the Dikrans were 
 restive, finally the Gadarwand in the vicinity of Kharlis 
 showed signs of breaking out. At this we were alarmed, 
 sent the Stamboul Museum's share of the spoil to Van, 
 disbanded the labourers, and started for Mosul, leaving 
 the heavy baggage to follow later. 
 
 Vastan, Kharlis, and Kochma stand at the angles of 
 an irregular triangle, Vastan twice as far distant from 
 each of the others as they are from one another. We 
 would have two days' journey to Kochma, and Evelyn 
 one to meet us there. Near Kochma several roads meet, 
 that from Vastan, one from Diabekr, one leading to Mosul 
 via Sart and Amadiyeh, and the main artery running 
 northwardly to Erzeroum. It is near the Erzeroum road 
 that Kharlis stands. 
 
 On the Monday we wired that Evelyn was to meet 
 us at Kochma by Wednesday. The answer came 
 promptly : 
 
 " Meant to bring E. to Kochma anyhow ; things ugly 
 here. Kent." 
 
 We only contrived to do ten miles by night as, starting 
 in haste, we had contrived to hire a clumsy set of katirgis. 
 By Tuesday noon we made a midday halt at a village 
 which was the last telegraph station before Kochma, and 
 wired again.
 
 68 The Autumn Rising 
 
 After effort, the Laze operator pulled his greasy plaits 
 helplessly. Something was wrong with the North wire. 
 Further work elicited this, from Kochma : 
 
 " Kharlis wire cut last night, town isolated ; sending 
 troops. Raouf Pasha." 
 
 Something terrible had happened at Kharlis, and 
 Evelyn was there. 
 
 Again we wired for details. This is what we learnt : 
 
 " Gadarwand risen, hold approaches to Kharlis. 
 Troops will be here, Allah willing, and the roads serving, 
 in a week. Raouf Pasha." 
 
 Things may happen in a week. That day we got no 
 further on. A wayfarer from Kochma brought ill news 
 of the road. It passes over hills, and there, he said, the 
 snow was nearly deep enough for Truce of Allah. 
 
 The katirgis went on strike. " Ya Effendim ! " they 
 wailed, " y' Allah, our fine mules will be frozen, ourselves 
 we will die of cold, our children will be orphans, the 
 mothers of our children " 
 
 And much to the same effect for three mortal hours, 
 while Papa remonstrated with his tongue and the zap- 
 tiehs with the flat of their sabres. Only an answer to 
 our wired appeal from the Vali of Van awed them ; they 
 agreed to go on. Unfortunately, by that time the early 
 dark had closed in, and, as they had unloaded the mules 
 at the start of the trouble, the baggage was in hopeless 
 confusion. We were stranded for the night. 
 
 Very dismally we left the office for the walnut planta- 
 tion where our tents were pitched. " We must make 
 up the delay by hard riding," Papa decreed. " Hey, 
 Miksi ? " 
 
 Our Deacon had just returned from a foraging expedi- 
 tion. " No chicken-fowls to be got, Agha," he announced 
 cheerfully. " But we found this boy-lad lying by the
 
 The Autumn Rising 69 
 
 roadside along-beside a dead nag horse. It will per- 
 haps fill the dull evening for Rathia Khatoun to make it 
 easy for him while he dies slips the painter. You are so 
 fond-in love of dying folk, Rathia Khatoun." 
 
 He presented an Armenian lad of fifteen or so, slung 
 sack-wise on a mule and in a state of collapse. " Wealth 
 of God and Head of Mar Shimoun ! " he added in simple 
 wonder, after I had tended the new arrival and found 
 him likely to survive. " What trouble-bother you give 
 yourself over that boy, Khatoun Effen' 1 You 
 give him of Sir Home Effen's whisky and your own 
 Cologne-Eau de scent. Frankish ladies are such odd 
 ladies. Why do you do it ? " 
 
 " It serves to kill a leisure hour," I returned. Then 
 the patient began to recover. 
 
 He was from Kharlis. It appeared that, first of all, a 
 band of Gadarwand attacked an Armenian village near 
 by and drove off the sheep. The Christians did an 
 unusual thing : they retrieved the spoil with much loss 
 on both sides. The raiders fled, vowing to return in 
 force and sack every village in the district. In despair 
 the villagers took refuge in the Kharlis Mission with 
 what was left of their flocks. 
 
 Kharlis itself is the head townlet of a nahie, away in 
 the wilds and separated from the mam road by a tangle 
 of mountains. The mission buildings stand on a hill 
 without the wall, and the space within its walls is large 
 enough to accommodate more than the present fugitives. 
 The Kurds came and laid a regular siege to it, secure in 
 the knowledge that, owing to the state of the roads from 
 Diabekr, the only quarter from whence it could come, 
 help would not arrive for some time. 
 
 The Mudir of Kharlis could do nothing ; he had only 
 ten of the three hundred redifs who were supposed to 
 garrison the place. The Kurds did not attempt to harm 
 any one in the Moslem townlet ; they did not fear any
 
 70 The Autumn Rising 
 
 future trouble with the Government so long as they left 
 Moslems and the military alone and did not raise inter- 
 national trouble by molesting Europeans. On this under- 
 standing the authorities had a tacit understanding 
 with them. Pursuant to it the Gadarwands promised 
 Mr. Kent that all Europeans and their belongings would 
 be respected if he would turn out the villagers. The 
 missionary then double-barred the gates and wired to 
 Diabekr. 
 
 So matters stood when our informant left. He had 
 seen Evelyn helping Mrs. Kent with the fugitive women 
 and children. Though there was no fear she would come 
 to personal harm, it was horrible to imagine the girl 
 witnessing what would ensue on the Kurds' inevitable 
 victory. 
 
 The boy had ridden the sixty odd miles from the 
 place in a day and night, with some rest as he hid in a 
 wood from scouting Kurds. He was too weak to walk 
 when his horse fell dead from exhaustion. His object 
 was to beg help from Van. We told him it would be of 
 no use; Kharlis was in the Vilayat of Diabekr, and 
 help was to be expected in a week. 
 
 " In a week ! " he returned. " In a week they will 
 find the bodies fresher than they would if they came in a 
 year, nothing more 1 And my father and my mother 
 are there ! " 
 
 He sobbed passionately. Papa sat on a mule trunk, 
 I sat on another, Miksi loafed respectfully in the door- 
 way, and we looked at him like Job's comforters. Ques- 
 tioned, presently, he detailed his own escape. The 
 enemy held three sides of the town, about the north 
 they did not trouble, as it was hemmed in by mountains, 
 and from this side he had escaped by a narrow track, 
 a wild-goat affair utterly useless as a road for help, under 
 cover of dim starlight. 
 
 " That track-way is known to me-myself," Miksi
 
 The Autumn Rising 71 
 
 volunteered, " It runs round the mountain and hard 
 S.E. to a village called Mouschat, then it twists to join 
 the summer track we are on fifteen miles farther on. It 
 is easily snowed up, and is only fit for good riders riding 
 light." 
 
 He traced the track on the map for us. " Kent 
 Agha desired me to tell you, Khanoum, that he will try 
 to get the young Khanoum your sister to Kochma at 
 the appointed date," the messenger went on. " He will 
 send her by the road I took ; she will have to come to 
 the junction with this road." 
 
 " Wait a bit," said Papa. " There's a branch road 
 from Mouschat to Kochma ; she will get to Kochma by 
 that in a day's moderate journeying." 
 
 " Agha, there was a cloud-burst yesterday, and that 
 road is flooded to a man's height." 
 
 " It may be passable by Wednesday." 
 
 " If Allah wills, Effendim ; but I do not think He will 
 will so." 
 
 It was a toss-up whether Evelyn would get to Kochma 
 in a day, or come our way. Of course, if she came our 
 way she would expect to meet us within the day. I 
 thought we had better split the caravan in two, one half 
 to gostraight to Kochma, the other to travel via Mouschat. 
 We arranged finally that Papa would ride to Mouschat 
 with one zaptieh while I led the rest of the party by the 
 safe road to Kochma. 
 
 Meanwhile, the messenger had been musing. " Help 
 from Diabekr ! " he muttered. " It would have been 
 of as much use to go to Ischaryar Beg." 
 
 ** Ischaryar Beg, my child ? " asked Papa. 
 
 *' Ischaryar Beg, who lives at Kalmaru on the top of 
 a mountain, Effendim." 
 
 Ischaryar of Kalmaru ? The world is small. " There 
 is blood between his tribe and the Gadarwand," the 
 Armenian proceeded. " It may be, if one spoke to him
 
 72 The Autumn Rising 
 
 with eloquent words, he might help Kharlis. But it is 
 too late now." 
 
 I asked why he did not go to Kalmaru in the first 
 instance. 
 
 " Khanoum Effen', the Beg's Diz is enclosed by high 
 hills, only one way leads to it from Khariis, the Crooked 
 Cleft, and, hoping for aid from Van, I did not try it." 
 
 " The Beg would be of no use-aid, Rathia Khatoun," 
 chimed in Miksi. " He is now a Hamidieh Yozbashi, and 
 dare not attack the Gadawands for fear it be said he 
 favours Christians." 
 
 We dismissed Ischaryar from consideration, and 
 arranged for a very early morning start.
 
 Chapter II 
 
 A DAMSEL ERRANT 
 
 LATE in the evening Papa went round to see that all was 
 secure. Within half an hour Miksi and another servant 
 carried him back badly lamed. Arjamand ha4 just 
 launched out with her wicked little hind-hoofs for fun. 
 The poor man's left knee was hors de combat nothing 
 serious, but he would not be able to face mountain tracks 
 for a day or two. The Mouschat project was knocked 
 on the head ; he decreed that we were all to pursue the 
 safe way to Kochma, and spent the rest of the evening 
 in proving to me, to his own satisfaction, that Mr. Kent 
 would send on Evelyn by the direct way, cloudburst or 
 no cloudburst. 
 
 " And if she has to wait at Kochma it will not matter," 
 he concluded. " I've told you often what a good friend 
 of mine the old Kaimakam there is." 
 
 That night I dreamt. I dreamt I was standing in the 
 middle of the Ardosht mountains ; there was mist all 
 around and from the mist voices cried in a wailing, 
 chorus, calling to me, calling, calling. I could not dis- 
 tinguish words, but the appeal of it was heart-rending. 
 Then the mist split a little and, afar off, I saw Evelyn. 
 She was standing dressed in white, and as I looked at her 
 a black band, a stain of shadow, slowly began to spread 
 down her figure from her left shoulder to her right foot. 
 She did not seem to be aware of it, but as the stain grew 
 darker the inarticulate wailing around her grew louder, 
 3* 73
 
 74 A Damsel Errant 
 
 and suddenly a small voice was speaking in my ear. 
 It was the voice of my step-mother. " Rathia ! " it 
 wailed in anguish, " Take away the stain you can ! It 
 will break her heart if she sees it and it will break mine 
 in Heaven and I did not treat you badly, Rathia ! " 
 
 Then I stretched out my hand, and whenever I touched 
 the stain it faded. I was anxious so anxious to remove 
 it ; but whenever I put forth my arm it was clutched and 
 restrained by something invisible, and now the voices 
 became articulate, voices of women and children crying 
 together : 
 
 " Khanoum ! For sake of Mart Maryam ! In the name 
 of your mother, for the God of Pity's sake ! Y' Sliwa 
 'Isa, death, and more than death, for all of us ! And we 
 are so many ! Rathia, daughter of the English and the 
 Abbassides, shall one or many suffer ? " 
 
 " Rathia, Rathia, my little girl your sister ! " cried 
 the voice in my ear. 
 
 " Khanoum, for 'Isa's sake ! " wailed the chorus. 
 
 " What can I do ? " I cried in despair. 
 
 At my words an arm crept out of the mist. It was a 
 woman's, bare, ivory-tinted, the hand exquisitely made, 
 with a great Meccan turquoise on the little finger. It 
 touched the stain. 
 
 I woke with icy drops running down my face. Shiver- 
 ing, I rose, wrapped myself in a fur cloak, and slipped out 
 of the tent. The night-light showed Sulti fast asleep, the 
 sentries at the tent-flap took no heed of my exit beyond 
 saluting me. 
 
 And outside in the dusk and chill the chorus of my 
 dreams still rang in my ears, and it came from north- 
 west from Kharlis. 
 
 When we encamp it is Miksi's custom to go the rounds 
 frequently at night. I waited under a tree until he came 
 along, looking sharply at each sentry and nursing his 
 musket, an article that was out of date when he bought
 
 A Damsel Errant 75 
 
 it from a Kurdish crusader in '78, and broached my 
 proposal. 
 
 He refused flatly. Luckily for me, even a soul sancti- 
 fied by pilgrimage to the Sepulchre is but mortal when 
 a woman under thirty makes eyes in moonlight and 
 wheedles in the bottom note of her voice. 
 
 " Sir Home Agha will turn me off if I do it," he 
 hesitated. 
 
 " Not if I speak for you," I returned. ** And if you 
 don't I will never forgive you. And that will be so 
 uncomfortable for you, Miksi Shamasha. I tell you, 
 I hear voices calling me." 
 
 He writhed hi uncertainty. " Wind-blow in the 
 trees, Effen'." 
 
 " Kim belir, Miksi ? Look thou, the wind is from the 
 east ; lick a finger and see ; but I hear my voices from 
 the west." 
 
 His knowledge of acoustics was not equal to the 
 phenomenon, and his unexpressed belief in my Second 
 Sight was. " At four, then," I concluded. 
 
 The knack of waking at any time you set yourself is 
 a blessing. At half past three I was busy writing : 
 
 'About 3.30, September , 189-. 
 
 " DEAR DAD, 
 
 " I have decided to meet Evelyn at Mouschat. Sulti 
 can look after you. I would advise you to go straight on 
 to Kochma, as I will, if possible, proceed there by the 
 branch road. If it is not feasible I will return to the 
 junction of the roads and follow you. Perhaps it would 
 be best for you to leave Hajji Izzett and a couple of ser- 
 vants here while you go on. You will comprehend that, 
 with the start I have, it will be useless to send after me 
 " Best love ; you will forgive me a few days hence. 
 " Your aff t. and sometimes dutiful daughter, 
 " RATHIA JERNINGHAM."
 
 76 A Damsel Errant 
 
 Sulti slept like the Ephesian septet. I felt Providence 
 was on my side. The homeopathic drug-case and the 
 family buyuruldi went into my pockets. Papa could 
 do without them better than I could. Slinging a hooded 
 sheepskin coat over my shoulder, I stepped out. 
 
 Winter had set in early that year in the highlands. 
 It was bitterly cold ; the country, lying in the hushed, 
 breathy stillness of the turn of night, was vast and 
 shadowy under its roofing of translucent grey sky and 
 glittering stars. The camp was still, and Miksi had 
 considerately refrained from waking my two sentries. 
 I pinned the note to Papa's tent-flap and adjourned to 
 the stable. 
 
 Miksi awaited me near at hand, wrapped up to the 
 eyes and bumpy with the provender he had annexed by 
 my orders. In the walnut grove was a little hut where 
 the Zowpe-gatherers sheltered in the working season; it 
 served as temporary stables, and Hajji Izzett was on 
 guard there. We foresaw that the real tussle would be 
 with him. 
 
 Hajji Izzett is our head groom ; he was at the time 
 suffering from a delusion that the Autumn Rising was 
 organised solely as prelude to the stealing of my Arja- 
 mand. Arjamand was of kochelain blood on the distaff 
 side blood of Kubleh, no less, with a pedigree down to 
 Solomon's stud. Kubleh, you may not know, was the 
 Reine des reines amongst Arab mares ; she could run 
 down the wild ass, so vouch the camp-fire tales of 
 Between the Rivers tribes, and the Arabs of El Jezireh 
 date their chronology by the Era of Kubleh, the Year 
 One being that of her death, A.D. 1886. 
 
 At the stable-door the Hajji was to be discerned, in 
 the form of a heap of sheepskins, two brilliant eyes, and 
 a gun-barrel. We hailed him discreetly from behind a 
 tree before we came within the firing line to proffer a 
 request for Arjamand and Papa's Kermanskahi.
 
 A Damsel Errant 77 
 
 He refused flatly. I discoursed for two minutes and 
 set his hoary eyebrows and orange-dyed beard a-bristle 
 with indecision. Finally, when 1 counted over the times 
 I had ridden on his shoulders, a decade or so in the 
 past 
 
 "Allahu Akhbar!" he ejaculated. "God is Most 
 Great, and it is written on my forehead ! Effen', if 
 the virtuous Miksi Gauriel will smite me on the head 
 with force enough to raise a lump, and then bind me, 
 it would Inshallah ! save my place." 
 
 " Khatoun Effen', if you condescend to compel me 
 at the point of your revolver-pistol to smite and bind 
 the excellent Hajji Izzett it would please Allah ! save 
 my place," Miksi supplemented. 
 
 It was like the post-contretemps scene in Eden. I 
 agreed to fill the role of Serpent. With the muzzle of 
 my seven-shot near his head, Miksi fulfilled the first part 
 of his task with a whip-stock and much joyousness. 
 
 " Y' Allah ! " protested Hajji Izzett from the ground, 
 tenderly feeling his head. " Truly, brother, a lighter 
 blow would have sufficed." 
 
 " Truly, brother, the larger the bump the more secure 
 thy place," the other plotter rejoined. 
 
 And the Jerusalem pilgrim trussed up the Mecca 
 pilgrim while I saddled Arjamand. We gagged the 
 Hajji, put a rug over him, and slipped away in safety. 
 Guards were set at other sides of the camp, but what 
 needed other watchers where Hajji Izzett was posted ? 
 We skulked amongst the trees until they ended, then 
 Miksi gave me a knee up and the Adventure had begun.
 
 Chapter III 
 
 IN THE CHILLY EAST 
 
 BEFORE I had felt the ghost of a qualm, once mounted, 
 with Arjamand palpitating through her fiery length as 
 she laid herself along the ground rhythmically and the 
 night wind, all vocal with soundless melody, lapping 
 my cheeks, all was plain. It was my duty to go to 
 Evelyn, and it had been so ordained ere ever the world 
 began. 
 
 Without speaking we galloped through the singing 
 starlight. Our business was to ride hard. We rode 
 Orion and the Pleiades across the heavens, we rode 
 them below the horizon, we rode all the stars into the 
 ante-dawn darkness, and we rode the gold and carmine 
 sunrise up the sky. 
 
 " Good riding-equitation, Rathia Khatoun ! " gloated 
 Miksi, to the tune of the roan's hoof-beats in the rear. 
 " Who could catch us after this start-lead ? Not 
 Kubleh's self ! " 
 
 Day came; for a while the track ran up and down, 
 over promontories and along the shore by the lake. 
 The lake stretched out, almost incandescent blue in the 
 rising light ; far to west Nimroud Dagh shot up, 
 dazzling turquoise against a sky of rose ; eastward 
 Varan Dagh frowned shadowy before the sunrise. The 
 first golden bars streamed down the clefts in its violet 
 mass, showing the villages and monasteries dotted in 
 them as flecks of white. Across the lake Sippan Dagh 
 
 78
 
 In the Chilly East 79 
 
 glowered, dim and cloud-capped ; to south stretched the 
 heights of Ardost, crested with unthawing snow. 
 
 In Kurdistan you understand why all people put the 
 lovely Mother Home of Mankind Eden, Airyanem 
 Vaega, what you will amidst hills. 
 
 Now we crunched through the white line of salt that 
 divides the lake's blue from the brown-weeded bank, 
 now topped a height and had a toy world at our feet. 
 It was bitterly, crisply cold; at first we were , on the 
 regular track, but it was solitary at that time of day 
 silent, too, but for the long whi-r-r when a belated flock 
 of flamingoes hurtled flapping over the water, or the 
 dreary " Honk, honk ! " of wild geese streaming across 
 the middle blue. As we splashed through the pink mud 
 on the shore we could see through the water, however 
 deep, the pebbles at the bottom and the little fishes 
 swimming over them. From the banks ducks peeped 
 at us through the weeds; on the marge pelicans and 
 cormorants went on with their scooping and stabbing 
 for fish, all undisturbed by our passing. 
 
 About seven we struck off the road at an acute angle, 
 and, after two hours' scramble through hock-high ferns 
 and under scrubby, stunted oaks, found we were riding 
 on the roofs of an Armenian hamlet, a miserable little 
 collection of hovels half hollowed in the slope of a hill. 
 There we stopped to rest the horses. 
 
 At the noise of our coming the people tumbled up out 
 of their poor homes, like rabbits out of a warren. My 
 toilette was a little nondescript, including a sheepskin 
 coat to the heels, a fez, and pagri, they took me for 
 some new-fangled kind of Su Bashi, and Miksi's ex- 
 planation of my identity puzzled them. They had never 
 heard before of such a thing as an Englishwoman, but 
 were reassured to learn that I was a professing Christian 
 and intended to pay for the provisions he requested. 
 Miksi told me he would not be surprised to learn that
 
 80 In the Chilly East 
 
 grandees on tour in that district kept up the old Turkish 
 custom of charging for wear and tear of their teeth over 
 the food they demanded. 
 
 We stopped an hour, the horses were fed, I rested on 
 a bench outside the hut of the Rayis, breakfasted on 
 blanket bread with a great deal of millstone in it, 
 listened to piteous tales which the tellers wanted me 
 to convey to that one hope of Christians in Kurdistan 
 at the time the nearest British Consul, and dispensed 
 from the drug-case until it was time to start again. 
 
 After sunrise the morning had turned dull and lower- 
 ing, as we set off again, S.S.W. this time, with Ardost 
 sinking behind us, storm-clouds brushed up in murky 
 ribbons, whirling together until they were bunched into 
 a solid mass torn at intervals by blue lightning, with 
 a sickly, transparent flood of green below down to the 
 horizon. We were ascending now; as we rose the 
 mercury in my thermometer charm sank. Luckily we 
 outrode the coming storm, and from the top of a spur 
 jutting from the mountains for which we were now 
 bound looked back at the tempest breaking in the 
 lowlands behind us. Ascending a following spur we 
 could see the western heights on the horizon in front, 
 all tender white flecked with grey shadows. Behind 
 them Kharlis lay, at the top of a high mount before 
 and to the right of us Miksi pointed out a warped, 
 perpendicular shadow. 
 
 "The Crooked Cleft leading to Diz Kalmaru, 
 Khatoun," he said. 
 
 From this I made out that Diz Kalmaru was situated 
 in the crater of an extinct volcano, and only to be 
 reached through a crack in the rim. It appeared quite 
 near, but that was an optical delusion ; between us and 
 it lay a table-land many miles across, grey with half- 
 frozen mud, and flecked here and there with a white rag 
 of snow, and the bridle-path hillwards faded into
 
 In the Chilly East 81 
 
 nebulous white before the eye could trace its full 
 length. 
 
 The descent of that promontory was difficult. The 
 path was steep, a narrow mule-track cut into a series 
 of terraces, each from four to six feet high and slippery 
 with frost. Sheer, snow-topped walls of rock soared 
 up at either hand. 
 
 " If more snow falls to-morrow we will not be able 
 to get back to the Vastan track," croaked Miksi. 
 
 It was obvious. At first we dismounted and tried to 
 get the horses down by coaxing. After we had spent 
 an hour at it and had descended five terraces, I mounted 
 again, in exasperation, and spurred Arjamand down. 
 She took it in a rush, just clicking a brace of hoofs, 
 goat-like, on each terrace, while I lay back, my shoulders 
 nearly on her tail, enjoying it hugely. We landed 
 safely at the base in moderately firm mud, Miksi declined 
 to follow leader, I raged at the base while he climbed 
 down, and so it was late before we resumed our way. 
 
 Two more hours' canter was all we could screw out 
 of the animals. Wearied with the heavy roads, they 
 made but poor progress through the viscid, thinly iced 
 mud, though they made a brave show over it and 
 splashed us to the waist. A frosty, cloudy evening 
 found us still floundering dismally over the lonely 
 plateau. To add to our joy, a torrential rain began to 
 fall, turning soon to thick sleet and blocking out all 
 view a couple of yards off. 
 
 " We will get to Mouschat s-s-some t-t-t -time-hour, 
 Khatoun, if we are n-not f-f-f-frozen first," said Miksi, 
 with chattering teeth. 
 
 The sleet changed to snow later; my hands were 
 almost too numbed to hold the bridle. But this brought 
 compensation. We could see farther, and soon espied 
 a large hut, half buried in the snow, and a clutter of 
 smaller ones beyond.
 
 82 In the Chilly East 
 
 This was Mouschat. My scalp crept. News at least 
 of Evelyn might wait there. We turned in the low 
 gateway of an enclosing wall, crossed a dirty court, and 
 alighted. Miksi led the mounts ; I shouldered open a 
 crazy door, and we waded into pandemonium.
 
 Chapter IV 
 
 A SUSPICIOUS CHARACTER 
 
 IT was a subdued kind of pandemonium, loudest in the 
 middle of the cavernous hall, thinning out round the 
 walls, where the cows stood in rows munching placidly, 
 their mild eyes shining in the flickering light. Horses 
 stamped on the mud floor and shook their headstalls, 
 the sheep massed at the far end of the apartment 
 bleated fitfully, a diapason of talking, groans, and the 
 splutter of green wood backed all. 
 
 Odahs are invariably built on the same plan: one large 
 room, a clay platform for aristocratic guests, and the 
 common fire, the rest of the floor free to humbler way- 
 farers, their mounts, and the village live-stock. My 
 eyes, fresh from the dusk, were dazzled at first by the 
 dancing light and the billows of smoke that bore it 
 company ; not until we had tethered the animals to 
 one of the unbarked tree-trunks that supported the roof 
 could I see to make my way to the fire. En route I 
 skirted many prostrate bundles of cloth which were 
 littered over the floor. They moaned when I stumbled 
 against them. The matter was : a large party of 
 conscripts, bound for Kochma under escort of a few 
 redifs, had been forced to turn back that day owing 
 to the state of the roads ; now half of them were down 
 with chills, fever, or frost-bitten hands and feet. Bitter 
 cold had set in with a snap that day, and the poor 
 fellows were badly clothed and fed. Some of the 
 
 83
 
 84 A Suspicious Character 
 
 healthier ones and the redifs were doing what they could, 
 in their clumsy way, to help the others ; the more selfish 
 cowered over the fire with the rest of the guests. The 
 feminine element was represented by a few veiled women 
 in a cold corner. 
 
 All were so absorbed in pain, kindliness, or apathy, 
 that my cheeky usurpation of a place by the fire was 
 scarcely noticed. There several people mentioned that 
 I was the firstborn son of a noseless she-pig, and hoped 
 Allah would make my countenance cold, otherwise no 
 notice was bestowed on me. In a voice so disguised by 
 the pagri muffled round my face that it startled me, I 
 intoned the customary greeting and bade Miksi call the 
 Khanji. 
 
 He was a Christian, and answered trembling. Yea, 
 verily, the tracks to Kochma and Kharlis joined near-by, 
 so please my lordship. But, might it please me, the one 
 to^Kochma was flooded and the one to Kharlis held by 
 the Gadarwands. 
 
 "Pek ala," said I. Then people trying to get to 
 Kochma must needs turn back, it appeared. To his 
 knowledge had a Feringhi woman passed thereabouts 
 that day ? 
 
 His gape was answer enough before he assured me that 
 people unable to get to Kochma had been coming in all 
 uay, and none had brought news of the singular appari- 
 tion my lordship described. 
 
 Query : was Evelyn still at Kharlis, or lost in the 
 track ? I bought it over seriously as I drew off my 
 gloves with my teeth. 
 
 Now the Yozbashi in charge of the party was on the 
 dais, preparing, for lack of knowledge to do anything 
 better, to drown painful sights and sounds with the aid 
 of a bottle having a slip inscribed : " Physic for Pain in 
 the Head," in Turkish pasted over the original Irish 
 Whisky label. He had not yet got the cork out, and
 
 A Suspicious Character 85 
 
 came over, perfectly sober, a stolid, pleasant-faced, 
 elderly man. 
 
 " Salamu 'alai koum ! " he said. " Where gottest 
 thou those hands of such delicacy, brother ? " 
 
 " To thee be peace, likewise," I returned. " Hands ? 
 Where I got the rest of myself, I presume. Hands and 
 all things come from Allah," and I flung off my coat 
 and pagri. 
 
 " A woman I " he exclaimed. 
 
 " An English Khanoum, Bimbashi," I answered. 
 " In its appointed time I will explain my business. 
 Meanwhile, what ails this ? " 
 
 With a boot toe I indicated a sobbing, writhing heap. 
 Learning that the poor wretch was frost-bitten and had 
 been stuck near the fire for treatment, I set to work, 
 after ordering Miksi and the Khanji to send messengers 
 along the tracks with inquiries. The apparition of a 
 European lady had a usefully galvanic effect on the com- 
 pany ; even the invalids who were not yet delirious left 
 off screaming to stare. Some willing helpers I sent out 
 for snow, others were set to massaging, the Yozbashi's 
 whisky was seized for hospital use. It was not possible 
 to start from the place before the searchers returned, 
 and the time might as well be filled in profitably. 
 
 Doctoring is absorbing work, I did not remember 
 that I had been riding all day until the last dose and rug 
 were attended to. The Yozbashi had attended me all 
 the while, in a state of polite bewilderment; he now 
 established me on a throne of rugs by the fire and 
 invited me to share his supper of clotted cream, pillau, 
 blanket bread, good fowl, indifferent tea flavoured 
 with tamarind, and rank Cappadocian cigarettes. 
 Over it I told my story and handed him the necessary 
 papers. 
 
 He spelt over the documents and looked flurried. 
 " But, Rathia Jernigan Khanoum, such a mad pro-
 
 86 A Suspicious Character 
 
 ceeding ! Your sister is not here : did you not foresee 
 the possibility ? " 
 
 " Truly I did, Yozbashi Effen'." 
 
 " And what do you propose to do now, Eff en' ? " 
 
 " Ride on to Kharlis." 
 
 " Subhan 'llah ! Snow has fallen in the region to the 
 north all day chok ! click ! The track will be blocked." 
 
 " The more reason I should adventure it, lest my 
 sister be in difficulties." 
 
 " I do not believe that the discreet Kent Effendi would 
 send a young maiden forth that way," he objected. 
 
 Here the messenger returned. No news of Evelyn, 
 and a hard snow-storm. I stood up. " Khanji, I need 
 lanterns, also a bold man who knoweth every stone of 
 the track to Kharlis. I will give very good bakshish." 
 
 " This is madness," the Yozbashi protested. " Your 
 hour's rest was spent in aiding us ; your horse is weary.'? 
 
 " If I helped you, Yozbashi Eff en', help me now." 
 
 " Effen', be reasonable 1 " he implored, " I am certain 
 your sister has not left Kharlis. I will send a messenger, 
 and in the morning you can proceed to Kochma with 
 us." 
 
 " You could not get there to-day, Yozbashi ? " 
 
 " Mash'llah, if He sends the frost to-night again the 
 flood on the road will bear our weight to-morrow. This 
 village is within the Kaza of Kochma " 
 
 In a flash all was clear. For all my credentials, I was 
 a suspicious character. " Yozbashi Effen', is it in thy 
 mind that I lie ? " I demanded. " Perhaps thou also 
 disbelievest that I have a sister ? " 
 
 By token of the loudness of his denial I had hit the 
 nail squarely. 
 
 " No, no 1 " he asserted. " It is known to me that 
 Frankish ladies do wonderful things. Does not one 
 from the Kharlis Mission wander over all the Kharlis 
 hills and Rahwan plain by herself, as you are doing, and
 
 A Suspicious Character 87 
 
 live in Odahs, as you are doing ? But her purpose is 
 evident to the eyes of uttermost stupidity : it is to teach 
 the native Naisri, and your purpose I am a man under 
 authority, although, myself, I believe your story, there 
 be many Hintchak sons of burnt fathers going to and fro 
 in the regions round about urging the followers of Ncbbi 
 'Isa Ibn Maryam to rise against Islam. It is well known 
 the Chaldaeans and Armenians are arming in secret. I 
 will eat the bread of disgrace and drink the water of dis- 
 honour if I do not give you the chance to verify your 
 words at Kochma." 
 
 I was never so insulted in my life. Actually I was 
 under suspicion of being an Armenian Revolutionary 
 Committee propagandist ! I did not blame the man him- 
 self, but he quailed at the wrath in my voice as I replied, 
 after a moment's meditation on the pickle I was in. 
 
 " I am Rathia Jerningham Khanoum," I pronounced. 
 " I am a great Khanoum of the Court of Frankistan ; I 
 have kissed the hands of the Sultana Victoria of Frankis- 
 tan, she who conquered Hindostan before thou or I 
 were born, O Yozbashi ; I have shaken the hand of her 
 son the Vali-Ahd Sultan of Walesistan. My father is 
 Home Jerningham Pasha, a mighty Pasha who sits in 
 the presence of the Grand Vizier Gladstone. The father 
 of my late step-mother, the mother of my sister, is a 
 Pasha of the first rank " 
 
 Here blows on the outer door drowned my fulminating, 
 and sent the Khanji to see who knocked so late. 
 
 " This, by grace of Allah, is Mouschat, Kochma is four 
 hours farther on ; the road, by Allah's mercy, is deeply 
 flooded, O my brother," I heard him say. 
 ' You hear, Effen' ? " said a second voice. 
 
 *' Four hours ! " sighed a third. 
 
 Within the minute I was outside the door. The 
 famt glow from the doorway revealed two muffled 
 figures holding horses, beyond a third steed with a rider
 
 88 A Suspicious Character 
 
 on it. The rider was muffled, too ; fez, furs, and pagri 
 only allowed a pair of eyes to be seen. But all Kurdistan 
 could not show another such pair of flickering sapphires. 
 
 "Evelyn!" I cried. 
 
 " On the spot, as usual I " She gave a little laugh 
 that tailed into almost a whimper, kicked away the 
 stirrup, and slid down into my arms. 
 
 She was fairly worn out. I almost carried her in to the 
 dais. " My sister, Yozbashi," I said. " Wilt believe me 
 now ? Though indeed, I do not care if you hale me to 
 Kochma now, so long as she comes too." 
 
 At this point the dear girl found her voice. " Rathia 
 the nizam, will they come ? " was her first remark. 
 
 * Yes, from Diarbekr, my dear," I replied soothingly. 
 
 " Oh, I am glad 1 " she sighed. " We feared the 
 poor villagers ! One woman had lost both her daugh- 
 ters last year, one of my age, one only ten ; she told 
 me. But Mrs. Kent was angry with her for telling me." 
 
 It occurred to me that I had given her, by chance, 
 unduly rosy ideas of the relief prospects, but it would 
 not do to undeceive her at present; she was used up. 
 " You must not talk any more now," I said. 
 
 " All right. Where's dad ? " 
 
 " I came alone to meet you. I'll explain later." 
 
 She nodded, and, after pulling the yellow pup, very 
 fresh and lively after a cosy day, out of a coat-pocket, 
 lay back limply and stared at the fire while I drew off 
 her ^gloves. Miksi in the meantime attended to her 
 escort, two of the Kents' oldest servants, one a big 
 yellow-haired Chaldsean from Jelu, the other a Monte- 
 negrin who would have been sufficient escort to native 
 Christians amongst the Herki. 
 
 From the polite distance along the dais to which he 
 had retired, the Yozbashi kept an unobtrusive eye on 
 us. The rest of the company peered and gasped at the 
 wonder of the English golden curls and cameo profile
 
 A Suspicious Character 89 
 
 pillowed against my shoulder. A feeling of good-will to 
 all humanity flooded my mind as I realised that my 
 reckless dash had its justification, and more. " Well, 
 Yozbashi Effen', what is thy opinion of my veracity 
 now ? " I asked. 
 
 " In all truth, Allah Al Aziz my witness, I never 
 presumed to doubt your word, Effen', but the coming of 
 the younger Khanoum places the Seal of Certainty on 
 the Door of Doubt. Now your movements shall be 
 dictated by your desires Allah willing." 
 
 I made the introduction. Veli Yozbashi fromKochma, 
 my sister. Evelyn Jerningham Khanoum. " Indeed, 
 Effen' ; you will pardon my caution," said the officer. 
 " This is a time of plotting against Islam and our Lord 
 the Padishah on whom be blessings from our Lord 
 Moustapha Ahmad, the Seal of Prophecy (bliss attend 
 his beard !). Yea, openly and unafraid, Armenians sing 
 a revolutionary song that declares : 
 
 * Go forward, brother Christians, be soldiers faring 
 forth to the battle with the sign of 'Isa leading. 'Isa 
 Himself is going to war; let us rise against our 
 masters.' ' 
 
 And certainly one must admit that " Onward, Christian 
 Soldiers," is not exactly a discreet hymn for Armenian 
 use.
 
 Chapter V 
 
 AN ARMENIAN NIGHT 
 
 EVELYN being uncommonly tough, for all her seraphic 
 looks, she was soon herself again, as far as tongue and 
 appetite went, and listened to a resume of my adventures 
 while she shared a bowl of the national dish soured 
 milk slabbed with sugar and cracked corn with the pup. 
 
 " I'm glad you came," she conceded. " In the proper 
 course of things, I should have been at Kochma hours 
 ago, but a snow-storm caught us half-way, we went astray 
 badly, and took twelve hours to get here, instead of the 
 three of Mr. Kent's calculation." 
 
 " I wonder Mr. Kent let you risk it." 
 
 *' Oh, he procured a safe-conduct from the Gadarwand 
 chief. I only came round by the back because the 
 chief could not vouch for his followers if the gate was 
 opened. We were all right ; that big Montenegrin orders 
 every one around as he likes. Here, Semiramis ! " 
 
 Semiramis was the pup. She answered to her name 
 nicely when something to eat was in question, and left 
 off worrying Arjamand to come and bury her head in the 
 bowl. " Oh, I am so glad about the soldiers ! " Evelyn 
 resumed. " The town can't hold out three days ; they'll 
 come When ? " 
 
 "As soon as possible," I replied evasively. "The 
 present pressing question is : where are we to pass the 
 night ? " 
 
 " The house of the Rayis is, doubtless, the best in the 
 
 90
 
 An Armenian Night 91 
 
 village," said the Yozbashi, when we referred it to him. 
 Then he issued orders that the headman and his family 
 were to be turned out for our benefit. 
 
 ** They can herd into another house," I reassured 
 Evelyn, who was a little shocked at the eviction. " Miksi, 
 stay with Evelyn Effen' while I go and inspect." 
 
 But, after I had wrapped myself up and sallied out 
 with the Yozbashi and a volunteer guard into the bitter 
 night, we found that the best house would not do -at 
 all. For one thing, the sudden cold had not yet killed 
 all the beetles and spiders and etceteras of that descrip- 
 tion, and they positively dripped off the ceiling, and 
 nearly put out our candles. 
 
 Without a word we returned to the Odah ; and how 
 stuffy it was now that the ventilation holes had been 
 plugged up with straw corks to make all snug for the 
 night 1 " Barns in this land are cleaner than houses," 
 I announced. 
 
 ** Above us is the common granary of the village," 
 said the Khanji. " If ye Effendim do not mind sharing 
 it with the winter stock of grain, it is secure enough." 
 
 We explored. The stair leading to the granary was 
 in the corner where the sheep were herded ; to reach it 
 we had to step on their fat, flat backs. It was the very 
 place I wanted ; the temperature was at the wrong side 
 of zero, it is true, as the four small windows were un- 
 glazed, but the door was stout and the atmosphere 
 deliciously fresh after the bakery below, and sweet with 
 the dry, crisp scent of wheat and millet. Miksi scooped 
 a trough in one of the yellow piles and spread it with the 
 only blanket I had brought, and we descended to put 
 Evelyn's mind at rest. 
 
 With the aid of her amateurish Turkish she had, 
 during our absence, made friends with the company in 
 general, who snatched a fearful joy in exchanging chit- 
 chat with an unveiled lady. A restful hour on the dais
 
 92 An Armenian Night 
 
 followed, punctuated by excursions amongst the sick 
 men. The Yozbashi wished to have a whip-round to 
 furnish us with rugs and cushions, and the patients 
 were eagerly willing ; but we preferred to prop ourselves 
 up, back to back a position that is awkward as an aid 
 to conversation, but ensured ease of mind on the score 
 of the virtue that follows godliness. 
 
 Our horses had been fed and groomed. Arjamand 
 had bitten her neighbour on the left, and kicked her 
 neighbour on the right, and was now eating steadily, 
 with the mien of one who has just finished a hard day's 
 work in the cause of charity. Semiramis, very frisky 
 after her journey in Evelyn's jacket, was making herself 
 a nuisance. Sometimes she made overtures to the lean 
 grimalkins attached to the establishment, and was 
 scratched, other times her industrious fat legs carried 
 her little round body over to the cattle, bringing her 
 back in a hurry after she had set a few bad-tempered 
 cows by the horns. Wherever she went she invariably 
 returned with a fresh peccadillo on her soul and took 
 refuge on Veli Yozbashi's feet, to his exceeding dis- 
 comfort. 
 
 Every one talked at once. Crops, raids, trade, and 
 other topics were threshed out, and awed silence at- 
 tended when Evelyn gave her personal impressions of 
 the Padishah going to Selamlik, the Sultana Victoria 
 of Frankistan holding her Court, and the Vali-Ahd 
 Sultan of Wales shooting on our neighbour's estate. 
 
 So, in an atmosphere of bad tobacco and acrid wood- 
 smoke, the guileless hours passed by. At 7.30 the 
 Yozbashi looked at his old turnip watch, and announced, 
 " Salatu '1 Isha, my brethren." Then he slid Semiramis 
 off his boots, drew three fingers over them by way of 
 purification, and made some mystic passes about the 
 exposed parts of his person with the aid of a bowl of 
 water from which the cats had been drinking. The
 
 An Armenian Night 93 
 
 other Moslems, out of consideration for the temperature, 
 merely passed their forefingers over their ears and told 
 themselves they had encountered nothing defiling since 
 their last ablutions. 
 
 Then, under the officer's lead, they all faced the west 
 end of the north wall, where some travelling Mollah 
 had chalked up the information that in that direction 
 Mecca lay, and said the Prayers of the Closing In of 
 Night. 
 
 Evelyn had not yet got over the oddness of seeing a 
 mixed company bowing, twisting, and falling flat, in 
 unison, to united chanting. Some of them owned little 
 pats of clay, on which the forehead rested when it was 
 etiquette to grovel ; they passed these round at the end 
 for less fortunate folk to kiss. 
 
 " Mecca earth, I remember," whispered Evelyn, 
 aside. " Do they possess magic virtue ? " 
 
 " No, they only make the owners stuck up over the 
 fact that they aren't miserable Christians, like you 
 and me." 
 
 " H'm. People in England find it hard to believe 
 there are places where ' Christian ' is equivalent to OUT 
 ' benighted heathen,' " she agreed. 
 
 Soon afterwards we retired to our bower. A howling 
 wind had driven away the snow-clouds for a space, the 
 full moon obligingly obviated the dangerous necessity 
 of a candle, and, for crowning luxury, Miksi brought 
 a fair supply of fairly clean water. Ice kept crusting 
 over the top between dips, but a school-boy kind of wash 
 was possible, and that is as much as one can have the 
 face to pray for in Armenia. 
 
 " I hope poor Papa is as comfortable to-night as we 
 are," observed Evelyn, as she produced a gilt-edged 
 book. I took it for a Testament, and went about my 
 ablutions on tiptoe until she began to write in it with a 
 fountain-pen,
 
 94 An Armenian Night 
 
 " My diary," she explained, noting my stare at it 
 over the edge of the towel. " Special paper, three days 
 to a page, two hundred pages, and only weighs five 
 ounces. I've kept it for a year now." 
 
 " Then you can surely afford to miss one day," I 
 shuddered with chattering teeth. 
 
 " Miss to-day ? " she looked grave reproach at me. 
 " The most remarkable day of my life ? No, thanks. 
 I can see myself reading it to Diana and Maud and Vic 
 won't their eyes pop out ! " 
 
 And she finished her task while I undressed to the 
 extent of unscrewing my spur and putting it under the 
 saddle Arjamand had lent me for pillow. Twice during 
 the ensuing hour I was routed out. The occasions 
 were similar in details : a scurrying of sheep, the voice 
 of Veli Yozbashi bawling from amongst them, and 
 Miksi, who was bivouacking on the stairs, translating 
 through the door. 
 
 "Rathia Effen', the Yozbashi-officer says will you 
 please come and speak to a man-soldier who is very ill- 
 sick ? Shall I tell him that the rest of a Feringhi lady 
 is of more account-worth than the life of a Moslem ? " 
 
 Spite of this amiable suggestion and the nearness of 
 the mercury to zero, I descended, and pulled both men 
 round in turn. Both were touchingly grateful, both 
 kissed the muddy hem of my skirt, and the second 
 said he was so very sorry that I was bound to land in 
 Laza, the Big Fire of the Next World, for an infideL 
 Which was really kind of him, when you think it over. 
 
 Within a short space I was again roused, this time by 
 violent tugs at my hair. 
 
 *' Wake up, do, Rathia ! " Evelyn's voice implored. 
 " I am sure there's mice about ! " 
 
 The wind was screaming round the building; she 
 could only make me hear by applying her lips to my 
 ear. " Very likely," I returned sleepily.
 
 An Armenian Night 95 
 
 " I think they are eating my boots 1 " she announced 
 tragically. 
 
 " Why don't you kick ? " I asked, surprised. 
 
 " Kick ? I left them under the far window.'* 
 
 " Your boots ? Did you actually take them off ? " 
 
 " Of course. It sounds so horrid to go to bed in your 
 boots. If I'd had to put that in my diary " 
 
 I sat up, intending to tell her that her ideas of gentility 
 would get their toes frost-bitten if she aired them too 
 much in Kurdistan. The words died on my lips. 
 
 The four little windows were in the same wall, that 
 on our right, as the granary was half hollowed in the 
 slope of the hill. Through the nearest a bar of moon- 
 light flowed across our knees. Through the second 
 another clear stream came ; the third let in no light. A 
 man's head, arms, and shoulders, convulsively agitated, 
 were blocked out in black against the silver beam 
 admitted by the last window. 
 
 Owing to the position of the moon the light came in 
 at an acute angle to the wall. As I looked the intruder 
 jerked his head into the shaft of light pertaining to the 
 third window ; this revealed a wide turban, aquiline 
 Kurdish features, and prominent eyes. Into the latter 
 I dashed a double handful of millet. 
 
 Fine gravel would have been better, but the grain 
 served at a pinch. With a howl of anguish he put his 
 hands to his smarting optics. The hands were empty, 
 a hurried peep through the nearer window revealed to- 
 me snow, the tracks of only one set of hoofs in its white- 
 ness, and a horse standing patiently, tail to wind, on a 
 pile of kiziks beneath the third window. From the 
 third window a pair of legs projected, kicking violently. 
 To a discerning eye all was noon-clear : the window was 
 a little smaller inside than it was outside, our intruder 
 had stepped off his horse's back and had drawn himself 
 through half-way, with a jerk, before the powder-horn
 
 96 An Armenian Night 
 
 to' 
 
 and other impedimenta round his waist became jammed. 
 There he was at our mercy, his efforts at release only 
 wedging him more securely, his arms at one side of the 
 wall, his weapons at the other, the intervening space 
 blocked by his ribs. 
 
 I waited by the second window with my seven-shot 
 cocked. In a few moments he ceased his rubbing, and, 
 in a dazed fashion, turned a pair of bloodshot eyes to us. 
 The dazed expression turned rapidly to alert amazement, 
 followed by incredulity and terror, and culminating in 
 stark, staring fear. 
 
 " Ista'far'ttah ! " he ejaculated. ** I am a sinful 
 man, y' Allah, so sinful ! And my punishment is as 
 the punishment of Abrahatu '1 Ashram, who dared 
 impiously to lead his warriors, in number as the sands of 
 the sea, riding upon elephants, to the besieging of Mecca 
 in the Year of the Bearing of the Prophet Bliss attend 
 his beard 1 " 
 
 (The tale runs that Allah sent to defend Mecca such 
 swarms of little birds that when each dropped a beakful 
 of little pebbles on the invaders, men and elephants were 
 alike squashed flat and as full of holes as worm-eaten 
 leaves.) 
 
 After another glance he rubbed his eyes again and 
 whimpered on : 
 
 " The dirt beneath your feet did not truly intend to 
 break into your pavilion, O Black Eyes ! I took it for 
 a Christian granary, and did but mean to fill my forage- 
 bag. Forgive, O Damsel of the Lustrous Orbs, and, I 
 beseech, intercede with Allah for my pardon is he 
 not 'r Rahmani, 'r Rahim ? and beg the other houri 
 behind to do likewise ! In Name of Al Wahhab, 'r 
 Rahmani, 'r Rahim ! " 
 
 I laughed. " This, my son, is truly a Christian 
 granary. And my sister and I be truly no houris, but 
 Frankish ladies,"
 
 An Armenian Night 97 
 
 He looked vaguely relieved. " Feringhi ladies ? " he 
 repeated dubiously. " Ye be not houris ? " 
 
 " Merely the kind of houris Allah permits Frankish 
 men to wed if they be virtuous and industrious. But 
 we be mortal, and it is cold, so please to go. No reach- 
 ing for thy weapons, either, or my seven-shot may 
 chance to go off. It will not do so, however, if thou 
 departest peacefully ; we have no cause to wish thee ill, 
 and to kill thee or make thee our enemy would consort 
 ill with our convenience." 
 
 He explained, dolefully, that he could not reach his 
 weapons, even if he desired to do so, which he did not ; 
 also that he would depart if he could, but he couldn't. 
 I thereupon took him by the shoulders and, with a 
 hearty push, sent him out feet first. He slid back 
 with a gasp, I thrust the upper part of my person 
 after him, the pistol well in evidence. He struck the 
 horse's haunches with his chest, bounced, and vanished 
 into the snowdrift that was piled against the fuel- 
 stack. 
 
 By dint of clutching a foreleg of the animal he was 
 soon out. " Khanoum, my little bag is still an-hun- 
 gered," he said coaxingly, with a sly ogle, as he shook 
 the loose snow away. 
 
 " I do not rob my fellow-believers," I made prim 
 retort. 
 
 " Y'Allah. These people are but Christians, and you 
 are a Frank," he expostulated. 
 
 " And I marvel thou darest to break in by thyself," 
 I proceeded. 
 
 ' Y'Allah, Christians dare not harm a Kurd." 
 
 " But the redifs here " I went on. 
 
 " Redifs ? Here ? " he gasped. 
 
 " The information seems to affect thee greatly," I 
 purred. 
 
 " I am stupid with my fall," he explained hastily, 
 4
 
 98 An Armenian Night 
 
 *' The presence of redifs is of no moment to me, by the 
 Wisdom of Allah." 
 
 Wisdom of Allah is a mental-reservation oath, equal 
 to the Five Crosses of the perjuring Irish witness. " Of 
 course," I agreed. 
 
 " I am an honest man," he went on. " I live near 
 Akhlat, and am returning there from Kochma." 
 
 " How strange ! " said I. " At our last news the 
 Kochma road was impassable." 
 
 " Did I say Kochma ? I meant Vastan," he hastily 
 corrected. 
 
 " Pek ala," I returned. " I can answer for my 
 sister, the other houri, we will meet thee for the first 
 time in life to-morrow. Go now ; I will shoot at once 
 if my sleep is disturbed again. As salam ! " 
 
 He touched his knee, breast, and brow with much 
 ceremony. I waited until he had knocked up the 
 Khanji and disappeared indoors before I left the window. 
 Evelyn, curled up in the furs, had evidently much 
 enjoyed the interview. Semiramis, at her feet, had 
 snored peacefully throughout it. 
 
 " A useful dog ! " I commented. 
 
 " She's for ornament alone, like her owner," Evelyn 
 replied. " Rathia, who was your Romeo ? You must 
 both be badly smitten to do the Balcony Scene in this 
 temperature. My Zaza was not equal to following the 
 rapid patter, but I caught the words ' Mecca,' ' houri,' 
 and 'redifs.' Who was he ? " 
 
 " He only wanted to fill his fodder-bag gratis, and is 
 from Vastan bound for Akhlat according to his own 
 account. If you will kindly stop taking your half of 
 the communal blanket in the middle I'll tell you what 
 he really is." 
 
 " Poor old girl ! you do look chilly, slate-blue. Get 
 into bed and tell me who he is : the Sultan in mufti, 
 after the way of your ancestor Haroun Al Raschid ? "
 
 An Armenian Night 99 
 
 " I'm tired of telling you it's ar Rashed. Our visitor 
 was a Gadarwand Kurd on a foxing trip. Probably 
 commissioned to find out if help is likely to come from 
 Vastan or Ischaryar of Kalmaru." 
 
 " How did you make it out ? " she asked. " I'm sure 
 I heard no mention of Kalmaru." 
 
 " In the East lying is not a low vice but a high art, 
 my dear. In it our Kurd was not even B.A. let alone 
 M.A. " True art is to conceal art," as you will know if 
 you have studied the * Common Quotations from the 
 Classics,' at the back of ' Mangnall's Questions.' The 
 man's fibs fairly pushed one another into view." 
 
 " Really, Rathia, from. your words don't you think 
 lying wicked ? " 
 
 " I believe that in Asiatic Turkey the end justifies the 
 means." 
 
 " Oh," she returned soberly, and I could see she was 
 shocked. 
 
 I shut my eyes and feigned slumber. It was a little 
 too hard to stand implied reproach from her when, if 
 I had not had her safety so much at heart, I would have 
 dared a visit to Kalmaru and an effort to clear the 
 Gadarwands from Kharlis in good time.
 
 Chapter VI 
 
 MEANS TO AN END 
 
 BLACK frost had set in by morning. The ice on the 
 matutinal bowl of water took some breaking. Miksi 
 made doleful remarks through the door, after depositing 
 the bowl on the stair-top. * You washed yourselves 
 last night, Effendim," he began accusatively. 
 
 " We did, Miksi, we distinctly recollect it." 
 
 *' Now you will wash yourselves again ? " 
 
 " Inshallah, such is our intention." 
 
 '* You will be ill-sick. It is not healthy to wash your- 
 self in this country-land. All Armenians say so. What 
 will Sir Home Agha say to me if you die kick the 
 bucket ? " 
 
 " Don't fear, Miksi Shamasha. He will know that 
 you did all you could to check our vicious tendencies. 
 How's the weather ? " 
 
 " Deep snow, Effen', and the servants of Evelyn Effen' 
 are poorly laid up." 
 
 When we descended the Yozbashi was waiting for us, 
 seated on a sheep. He was primed with the intelligence 
 that the road to Vastan was now blocked. He meant 
 to wait another day, to rest the sick men, before trying 
 to get to Kochma ; in the meantime he was sending to 
 inform the Kaimakam of Kochma why he was delaj^ed . 
 " With the frost, please Allah, the road may be passable," 
 he said. 
 
 We were breakfasting on the dais by that time. The 
 
 100
 
 Means to an End 101 
 
 Khanji put his oar into the conversation. " El Kara 
 Khorous, the Phantom Black Cock, was seen this dawn, 
 Effendim," he answered. " It is a sign that much snow 
 will fall and the village be buried. Last year, about this 
 time, the snow came after El Kara Khorous appeared, 
 and we had no word of the outer world for two months, 
 nor, for the same time, had the outer world word of us." 
 
 Evelyn looked round and shuddered. The Odah was 
 doubly unattractive by daylight. ** We will make an 
 effort to reach Kochma," I decided. 
 
 " My messengers shall escort you," said the Yozbashi. 
 
 The kindly officer further arranged to bring on Evelyn's 
 invalided escort. While inspecting them and the other 
 sick men I came across my Kurd spy ; he looked uneasily 
 defiant until I asked the Khanji in a stage aside who he 
 was. 
 
 Veli Yozbashi had been a patient under the Kents' 
 care in his time. He was anxious to oblige any of their 
 friends, and selected our new escort carefully, pitching 
 at last on an elderly Onbashi and a bandy-legged young 
 private named Izzedin. 
 
 To these he administered a lecture on our status and 
 importance. The sting was in the tail of it, addressed 
 to the Onbashi. ** I give these high-born and dis- 
 tinguished Feringhi ladies into thy charge, Selim On- 
 bashi, my son," he pronounced. " If a hair falls from 
 their heads thou shalt be responsible. Thou shalt 
 neither leave them nor neglect any means of defending 
 them if Allah permits danger to come near them. Thou 
 art a man of my own city, and thy circumstances and 
 the members of thy family are known to me. Swear by 
 the divorce." 
 
 And Selim Onbashi swore. The Yozbashi added a 
 clinching warning. 
 
 '' These be such great ladies, Selim, my son ! They 
 belong to the Court of the Sultana Victoria of Frankistan,
 
 102 Means to an End 
 
 and if ill befall them the said Sultana will bid her son the 
 Vali-Ahd Sultan of Walestan bring a great fleet of iron 
 ships across our lake to waste the shores thereof." 
 
 Selim Onbashi thereupon looked scared. Indeed, the 
 idea of our elderly Prince of Wales piloting a punitive 
 naval expedition over the inland Sea of Van might have 
 awed a more educated mind. 
 
 " I did not mind trusting you in charge of the 
 granary for the night, Effen'," said the Khanji when 
 I paid up. 
 
 " And the redifs did not fill their forage-bags without 
 paying while we were there," I replied. I was not going 
 to let a Christian innkeeper think I could not see through 
 him. I went the hospital rounds for the last time, and 
 gave the Yozbashi drugs and instructions. He was 
 overflowing with kindly sentiments, and pressed a flask 
 of whisky on us as a parting attention. On such 
 small pivots does life hinge. If I had used up all the 
 whisky for the patients all life for myself and Evelyn, 
 and Heaven knows how many other souls, would have 
 run a different course to this day, and to its end. 
 
 Nefer Moustapha, the Tommy Atkins of Turkey, is 
 no lamb, but we had won the hearts of all by the doctor- 
 ing. Every one who could stand came outside to speed 
 us with a parting cheer, the curious humming in unison 
 that is known to tourists who have seen the Padishah's 
 Selamlik progress. We kissed our hands in return, and 
 rode forth in a light snowfall. 
 
 For an hour, to the point where the tracks for Kharlis, 
 Kochma, and Akhlat joined, we had the spy for com- 
 pany. There he turned north, and we due south along 
 a narrow, solitary way between hills. We presently 
 crunched through the partly frozen flood. It was only 
 shank-deep at first ; we rejoiced. Then Selim Onbashi's 
 horse, leading, suddenly vanished into nobody knows 
 how many feet of turgid water, thinly iced.
 
 Means to an End 103 
 
 We hauled out the poor soldier. " The road is full 
 of suchlike holes," said Izzedin. 
 
 The hole was deep enough to drown Selim's horse. 
 The frightened creature resisted our efforts to aid it 
 from the other side of the chasm. We stayed until it 
 was a hopeless case, then I put a bullet through its 
 head ; the soldiers did not like to waste a Government 
 cartridge. As it was now past noon we were all chilled 
 to the bone. The sun, after some fitful peeps through 
 banked clouds, had vanished for the day, and the 
 falling flakes and the chattering of Selim's teeth outdid 
 one another in dreary effect. I ordered a move back 
 to the Khan. 
 
 The Khan stands at the junction of the tracks, a 
 ruined caravanserai of Seljouk construction, a roofless 
 complex of fine courts and chambers, picturesque but 
 draughty. One room had a scrap of roof, in it the 
 Khanji lived in summer, when caravans from Persia 
 passed that way and could find sufficient shelter in walls 
 alone. There Izzedin kindled a fire, we all lunched on 
 bread and eggs and ginger, and I gave Selim a dose of 
 whisky, under the name of medicine. 
 
 " We cannot go on," both soldiers declared. 
 
 " We cannot go back," shuddered Evelyn. " Snow- 
 bound in the Odah ! " 
 
 I finally despatched Izzedin and Miksi to see if they 
 could find a way round the flooded part. We sat by the 
 fire and felt too worried to talk. Selim sat at respectful 
 distance in a corner, and held his jaw when necessary. 
 After an hour of waiting I climbed to the top of a ruined 
 wall to look for the truants. 
 
 The snow had ceased to fall, though the sky was 
 banked up with heavy clouds. I paced the wall top 
 until it was time to rejoin Evelyn, then the missing pair 
 hove into sight and met me when I descended. There 
 was, so they reported, no way of negotiating the hole.
 
 104 Means to an End 
 
 At the door Evelyn met us, and her face embodied 
 tragedy. 
 
 " The poor Onbashi," she gasped. " He is ill so ill. 
 He looked so poorly after you left us, Ratlria, that I 
 dosed him. It was no good; he is insensible now." 
 
 With dreadful visions of an overdose of opium in my 
 mind's eye, I hurried in. The Onbashi lay on the floor 
 near the fire, his eyes shut and his worn old face beauti- 
 fied by a childlike smile. 
 
 A good sniff was enough to diagnose the case. 
 
 " Is have I hurt him ? " faltered Evelyn. 
 
 " You can now tell, from analysis of your own present 
 psychological state, what a convicted manslaughteress 
 feels like," I made answer. 
 
 ** B-but he's breathing," she protested. 
 
 " Loud enough to be heard at Orfa," murmured 
 Miksi, sniffing likewise. 
 
 Poor Evelyn looked from me to Miksi. The diaconal 
 features were wreathed in a grin. " He is dead- 
 killed, as Rathia Khatoun said, Effen'," the good man 
 hastened to reassure her. " He is dead intoxicated- 
 drunk." 
 
 " I only gave him a little whisky," she demurred. 
 
 " A little was bound to go a long way with a Moslem 
 who has probably never tasted fusel before," I replied. 
 " This is most awkward ; I don't see how we are to get 
 him back to Mouschat in this state." 
 
 She was too crushed even to voice the " Weeks in that 
 Odah ! " which I could see trembling on her lips. 
 
 My mind was made up for me. The roads to Kochma 
 and Vastan shut, Mouschat liable to isolation, and now 
 a chance of getting rid of our escort it was Providence 
 undisguised. 
 
 " Izzedin, my son," I said he saluted amidst the 
 steam-cloud that had enveloped him since he came 
 near the fire " this is an ill happening ; my sister
 
 Means to an End 105 
 
 hath by mischance given the Onbashi. too much 
 medicine." 
 
 He saluted again. " Verily, Effen', the drugs of 
 Frankistaii need handling on tiptoe by the Hands of 
 Age and Experience. Will Selim Onbashi die ? " 
 
 " Please Allah, he will recover in a few hours. Now, 
 listen ; we cannot return to the Odah again, lest we be 
 snow-bound ; we will, therefore, proceed to the Diz of 
 Ischaryar Beg. There we will remain until the Kochma 
 road is passable, or Kharlis relieved and the main road 
 to Kochma opened again." 
 
 " Pek ala, Effen'. But our orders from the Yoz- 
 bashi were to escort you to Kochma, or, failing that, 
 back to Mouschat." 
 
 " I will give thee a note for the Yozbashi. I would 
 have thee wait here a few hours, until the Onbashi hath 
 slept off the effects of the medicine. When he wakes 
 his head will pain him ; bid him dip it in water while he 
 repeateth Al Fatihah ; a dip for each verse, and he will 
 be well again. If, when we be gone, thou wilt strip 
 him and dry his clothes against his waking he will feel 
 no ill effect from his wetting." 
 
 The petty officer might have objected, but Izzedin 
 highly approved this plan for an easy afternoon. My 
 two companions had listened to the conversation blankty. 
 " To Kalmaru, Rathia ? " said Evelyn. 
 
 " It will be cleaner than the Odah, and we can go on 
 when Kharlis is relieved," I returned. 
 
 " And when will that be ? " 
 
 " In about twenty-four hours." 
 
 " Oh ! " she said. Miksi, thinking she doubted, 
 broke in enthusiastically : 
 
 " Believe your sister, Evelyn Effen'. By the House 
 of Mar Shimoun, if she said she would take-convey you 
 to Roum in a week she would do it I " 
 
 So we gave Izzedin the note, some tobacco, and an 
 4*
 
 106 Means to an End 
 
 unexpectedly large bakshish to share with the Onbashi 
 when he woke, and sallied out with his good wishes for 
 parting omen. 
 
 From the Khan to the mountain of the Crooked Cleft, 
 ten miles, thence to Kalmaru, one hour's riding. Thus 
 Miksi ; we calculated it could be done well before dusk. 
 The good fellow asked me no questions ; faith in your 
 superiors and Allah is the one unalloyed virtue of the East. 
 I felt a tremendous lightening of spirits, since Provi- 
 dence had clearly indicated I was to rescue Kharlis. Of 
 the party Evelyn was the gravest. As she had not 
 known how imminent danger to the refugees was she had 
 no cause for exultation, and the Onbashi incident rankled 
 in her proud mind. When they are touchy, blue-eyed, 
 angelic-looking people are diabolically touchy. 
 
 " We will get to Kochma a day later than we expected," 
 she remarked. 
 
 " And just meet the pater, instead of having to await 
 him in a dirty Armenian house or the Kaimakam's 
 harem," I consoled. 
 
 " We are going to a Kurdish harem instead," she 
 grumbled. 
 
 " A great improvement," I retorted. " Kurds have 
 some ideas of privacy and cleanliness." 
 
 After that we did not talk much, but rode steadily 
 through the light-falling snow. We met nobody. The 
 wind rose as we progressed, blowing full in our faces, 
 and chilled to scarifying point by its passage over the 
 ice-capped Anti-Taurus. Mid-afternoon saw us stumb- 
 ling up the hill-side, on a track that ascended in terraces 
 coated with ice on which the horses slipped continually. 
 Later the snow ceased to fall and we ascended more 
 easily, an earth of glaring white around and a louring 
 grey sky above. 
 
 " What makes people call this a hard passage ? " 
 inquired Evelyn.
 
 Means to an End 107 
 
 " I don't know," we chorused. Then we reached the 
 mouth of the Cleft, and knew. 
 
 We approached it sideways, round a cliff. The first 
 notable detail was a rush of wind furious enough to 
 bring the horses to a dead stop. The Cleft was a mere 
 slit, not ten feet wide, zigzagging through the rocky 
 rim of the extinct volcano. It must be at least half a 
 mile in length. It had been windy enough lower down ; 
 this awful blast, coming compressed through the gap, 
 was paralysing. We were wrapped up very thickly, 
 with pagris wound round our skin-hoods, yet it cut 
 through all like red-hot needles and lashed our eyes like 
 knife-blades. 
 
 Miksi howled, and would have turned ; I seized the 
 roan's bridle and headed him on. " You are all right, 
 Evie ? " I called back. 
 
 She nodded, a shade doubtfully, and in we rode. It 
 was dark in the narrow space ; the wind brought clouds 
 of powdered snow ; it bit like hornets where it could 
 find an open chink to our faces, and cut off the view so 
 that more than once the horses ran into the walls. And 
 it screeched like a thousand lost souls. 
 
 I kept Miksi a little in front, to check his tendency to 
 turn and run. Evelyn was sometimes abreast, some- 
 times a little behind, and so we wrestled on. " Rathia ! " 
 she called at last, her voice shrill and laboured, " Can we 
 do it ? " 
 
 " We have to do it," I shouted back shortly. 
 
 " But the horses are getting exhausted " her 
 
 voice tailed off. 
 
 " The little-young Evelyn Khatoun is" not so strong as 
 you, Rathia Effen'," said Miksi. " Let us go back." 
 
 In a blind panic himself, he would have turned tail 
 if I had not kept to leeward. The tired nags could never 
 get to the Odah ; the Diz was our only salvation. " We 
 are going on," I snarled.
 
 108 Means to an End 
 
 Miksi peered over his shoulder, evidently calculating 
 the chances of a rush past me. Though he is old enough 
 to be my father, I held up my whip. He hunched his 
 shoulders and went on sullenly. Evelyn began to lag ; 
 I called to her sharply, and received an answer in a 
 strange, hushed voice that carried oddly through the 
 scream of the wind. 
 
 "I can't come any farther, Rathia. I I I'm 
 done." 
 
 And, as I turned, the bridle dropped from her hands ; 
 her horse, deprived of the hold, staggered, and both 
 were swept against the rock. 
 
 They remained as they were flung, as though glued 
 to the rock, the horse trembling violently, Evelyn 
 drooping in her saddle, one hand clutching the animal's 
 mane, the other pressed to her chest. " What ? Will 
 you show the white feather ? " I cried fiercely, thrusting 
 the bridle into her grasp again, with some effort owing 
 to the numbness of my own hands. 
 
 " I'm not afraid," she panted. " I've had a time to 
 hold up so far ; I was ashamed to tell you how tired I 
 was. I'm tired, tired, and I can't breathe. Leave 
 me." 
 
 " Pull yourself together," I responded. " If you give 
 in you will be frozen die. Don't you understand 
 DIE ? " 
 
 She nodded, and I knew there was a weak smile on 
 her hidden face. " I am not afraid to die. I cannot 
 come on." 
 
 No time to argue. I had brought her there, the blame 
 was mine, I must bring her out at any cost. " Come 
 on ! I command you ! " I hissed. 
 
 She merely exhibited an intention of drooping 
 
 off altogether. " Take Semiramis " she began 
 
 huskily. 
 
 And I did what I had to do. At each movement the
 
 Means to an End 109 
 
 little, choking pulse in the throat, which throbs staccato 
 when you are forcing yourself to something past bearing, 
 throbbed down to my heart, and, for all the cold, drops 
 came out on my forehead, but I did it. Raising my 
 whip, I brought it down on her shoulders twice.
 
 Chapter VII 
 
 THE LAW OF QISAS 
 
 THE calculation was accurate ; what fear of death could 
 not do hurt pride achieved. I knew that Evelyn's 
 features behind the veiling pagri had become deadly 
 pale before and now were scarlet in a rush. I could 
 see her figure stiffen, and hear new life in her voice : 
 
 " How dare you ? " she cried. " Before a ser- 
 vant 1 " 
 
 ** I am the eldest ; I will beat you before all Roum if 
 it is for your good," I returned. " Come on ! " 
 
 And, as she hesitated, I brought the lash on her 
 shoulders again. No need for another blow ; she 
 clutched the bridle and pulled herself and the horse 
 together. 
 
 We were nearer the end than we thought, and, strug- 
 gling and fighting through the icy blast, came out 
 unexpectedly at the other side by the time I was be- 
 ginning to feel the terrible oppression at the lungs that 
 preludes collapse. 
 
 We emerged on a terrace, a step-track ran from our 
 feet down to the cup of the crater : an expanse of 
 wrinkled, scintillating snow bounded by the seamed 
 rim. We could catch fleeting glimpses of it between 
 the gusts which swept up the dry snow in waterspout- 
 like columns, to dash it in showers against the rock 
 behind us. There was no sign of road or human habita- 
 tion to be seen in the racing dusk. 
 
 110
 
 The Law of Qisas 111 
 
 My stimulant had roused Evelyn past all expectation. 
 Out of the Cleft and on the terrace, where the wind was 
 comparatively nothing, she was about the freshest of 
 the party. After taking a peep at Semiramis, safe 
 nestled in her jacket, she turned her muffled face to 
 me. " I am much obliged to you for your means to an 
 end, Rathia," she said bitterly. 
 
 " She did beat you, best only thing for you, Evelyn 
 Effen'. She big-elder sister knows best," said Miksi 
 approvingly, recovering from his own panic. 
 
 She turned away coldly. ** The Diz-fortress is at the 
 west of the bottom of this track-path," he went on, 
 turning to business. We descended to the bottom easily 
 enough hi hock-deep snow ; there he paused and broke 
 into a dismal whine. 
 
 " The snow makes such a difference, Khatoun ! " he 
 wailed. " I was only here in summer-warm-weather 
 time ! " 
 
 A delicate way of intimating that he had lost his 
 bearings. The situation was truly appalling ; but it is 
 injudicious to lose one's head hi an emergency. I 
 looked down as carefully as I could. 
 
 " What is that dark speck down there ? " asked 
 Evelyn, indicating a little blot amidst the snow-wreaths. 
 
 We rode down ; at nearer view it turned out to be a 
 donkey shivering in the bitter wind with a pair of 
 magpies picking the wounds on its poor, galled back. 
 
 " We are on the track ! " I cried. " The Khanji at 
 Mouschat told me a caravan with stores for the Diz 
 went through two days ago, when the wind was favour- 
 able ; they must have abandoned the poor creature." 
 
 And I patted its unfortunate head, and put a bullet 
 through. Humanity pays. Drawn by the re-echoing 
 report, two horsemen came sweeping round a nearby 
 spur. The good old rule of conduct, " Who is that ? " 
 " A stranger." " Let's 'eave 'alf a brick at 'im," still
 
 112 The Law of Qisas 
 
 holds good in Central Kurdistan, with a bullet to proxy 
 the 'alf brick. I called out, however, in my immaculate 
 Zaza that we were known to Ischaryar Beg. The 
 newcomers were his henchmen, and agreed to conduct 
 us to the fort. They took us respectfully too ; I would 
 not let Miksi say who we were, and, with our bundled-up 
 figures, we might have been angels in mufti for all they 
 knew. The Diz was not far off, up a deep cleft in the rim 
 of the crater. From the back of the cleft a half-frozen 
 torrent broke, guarded at the point of emergence by a 
 small keep on a mid-stream rock. Up one bank the 
 Diz proper stood, a fort half built of unhewn stone and 
 half hollowed in the slope, overlooking a large stone-built 
 village. 
 
 We rode up the snow-carpeted path, and dismounted 
 in the courtyard amidst a rabble of grooms and children. 
 Evelyn alighted with difficulty ; almost too cramped 
 and weary to stand. She tried to refuse my arm, but 
 I made her take it. " Don't make underbred scenes, 
 even if you will not forgive me ! " I exclaimed angrily. 
 
 She took it then, but avoided leaning on me as much 
 as possible. I knew she was saying " Beaten like a 
 dog before a servant ! " to herself, and hating me as 
 only blue-eyed people can hate. 
 
 Ischaryar Beg's audience-hall was vast, low, and 
 dusky with blue billows of tobacco-smoke and black 
 waves from the wood-fire in the centre. Men crowded 
 the cushioned stone benches down the sides, all big, 
 swaggering Kurds save a brace of suave Persians, 
 smoking and drinking tea ; at the farther end, on a dais 
 beside a doorway past which one could see women 
 moving about in an inner room, sat a gorgeous figure, 
 hawk on wrist. 
 
 My acquaintance of the Iranian Khan. I marched 
 up and saluted him. " Beg Effen', peace be with thee 
 and with thv house."
 
 The Law of Qisas 113 
 
 " Allah's peace be with thee likewise, my brother," 
 he answered. 
 
 " Nay, it is * sister,' " I replied, laughing and un- 
 twisting the muffler from my face. 
 
 The other men craned for a look, and said in 
 chorus: " Subhan'llah ! " a Moslem ejaculation cor- 
 responding to the British " Great Scott 1 " The Beg 
 started. 
 
 "Subhan'llah!" he cried in turn. "The Feringhi 
 Khaiioum of the Iranian Khan ! " 
 
 " Truly, O Beg Effeii'. I have come to see the order 
 in which thy tribe is kept may Allah increase it ! 
 Did we not speak of it in Roum ? " 
 
 " Verily." Here he remembered his manners. " Bis- 
 millah, Khanoum. In Name of Allah condescend to be 
 seated. And these ? " 
 
 " My sister, O Beg, and yonder is the last of our 
 party, our servant Mikrasi Gauriel, a man of Tiyari." 
 
 The Beg got up and bowed us to the seat of honour 
 on his right. Miksi sat by the fire with the men ; 
 Evelyn worked some cushions between her and myself, 
 and lay back with closed eyes. The Kurdish was un- 
 intelligible to her. The company gazed at us with the 
 stolid gaze of the Orient when it is startled. 
 
 " Ye are very welcome," the Beg repeated, awkward 
 with surprise. " I never dreamed that Allah would send 
 vou to visit my poor home is He not truly named Zu'l 
 Jalali wa'l Ikram ? " 
 
 " We were benighted," I explained. " And, knowing 
 Kalmaru w r as near, and having met thee, O Beg, in 
 Roum, we came here, sure of finding a corner for Children 
 of the Road." 
 
 " Y'Allah, our Beg's hospitality is known even in 
 Roum ! " cried several. Ischaryar bridled with pride. 
 
 " I am one of the least of Allah's stewards," he 
 answered smugly. " But ye be weary ; condescend to
 
 114 The Law of Qisas 
 
 rest in the rooms of the women of my house ere ye speak 
 of your journeying." 
 
 " Indeed that will suit us," I answered. " My sister 
 is not too strong, and it is a hard way through the 
 Crooked Cleft." 
 
 " This poor house is not mine ; it is yours," he replied, 
 getting up to bow with a sweeping gesture of both arms. 
 " We will live a thousand years in your visit ; for the 
 which I thank He who is Al Wahabb and Zu'l Jalali 
 wa'l Ikram." 
 
 And he bowed us towards the inner apartments. 
 " Relief of Kharlis, Khatoun ? " whispered Miksi, as I 
 passed him. 
 
 " Preparations start in an hour," I returned. 
 
 And, " AlhamduTllah I " he responded simply. 
 
 Lailah Khanoum, Ischaryar's sole wife, was a Zaza, 
 a tall, flat-backed, magnificent creature, with almost 
 classic features, and a skin of lightest ivory. But for 
 her stately Kurdish costume she might have stepped 
 from the pages of Punch during the Keene and Du 
 Maurier epoch. She had five sons, but they stayed in 
 the outer rooms Kurdish women are not veiled or 
 secluded, but they naturally like to keep their own 
 quarters to themselves, and the men are not supposed 
 to come into their part of the house without asking 
 prettily beforehand. With her was a pretty daughter 
 of about fifteen, a reproduction of herself on a less scale, 
 named Esma. The visible remainder of the household 
 comprised two handsome Georgian freedwomen, with a 
 baby apiece, and an orderly rabble of slaves and children. 
 
 The gentlewoman is the same all over the world. 
 Lailah Khanoum's emotions, when Ischaryar brought us 
 in, must have been akin to those of a London hostess 
 whose husband has unexpectedly piloted a brace of
 
 The Law of Qisas 115 
 
 plumed and blanketed Cherokee squaws into her draw- 
 ing-room; but her self-composure was perfect, and she 
 intoned the welcoming " Bism'illah ! " with steady 
 gravity as she bowed us to the seat of honour. Her 
 low, refined voice reminded me of Aunt Domitia, and 
 the way in which she established Evelyn near the fire 
 and drew the gloves off her cold-blackened hands of 
 Grandmamma Naseby. 
 
 Myself I did not offer Evelyn any assistance, from 
 the way in which she avoided looking at me I knew 
 she would rather be attended by a stranger. The room 
 was large, constricted by a row of wheat-bins towering 
 to the ceiling along one side, and a file of oil jars, each 
 big enough to hold a man and reminiscent of the Forty 
 Thieves, at the far end. The Georgians came in and 
 peeped at us shyly over the babies, the slaves and chil- 
 dren flocked to the doorway, to stare by gangs and 
 run quickly for fear of the Evil Eye. Pretty Esma 
 Khanoum, inspirited by her mother, ventured in and 
 chafed Evelyn's hands, afterwards squatting at her 
 feet and holding one. I knew as well as if she had said 
 it that she thought my all-English sister was an angel, 
 and would float back to heaven at any moment unless 
 safe anchored. 
 
 Our hostess spoke an apology as she handed the 
 cigarettes and tea. " The Khanoum Effen' is asleep," 
 she said. 
 
 She was on the horns of a dilemma. The head lady 
 of an upper-class Turkish house is known as the Khanoum 
 Effen', or " Madame " par excellence, and the evenness 
 of choice between leaving guests to be entertained by 
 the second in command and waking an important 
 personage will be apparent to the adept in Eastern 
 etiquette. I begged her not to disturb the Khanoum 
 Effen'. 
 
 Much relieved, she confided to me that the Khanoum
 
 116 The Law of Qisas 
 
 Effen' was the Beg's grandmother his step-grandmother 
 I should have put it, the youngest and sole surviving 
 widow of the late Beg. " And one does not like to wake 
 her," added the gentle soul " She is white-haired and 
 so old near forty." 
 
 Here the Beg returned. He had repaired to the common 
 room after introducing us, and it did not need second 
 sight to see that he had received a full account of us 
 from the Gadarwand spy, who had preceded us before 
 the wind changed and had tried to hide behind a 
 Persian half as large as himself when we made our 
 entry. 
 
 The Kurd's account of us, gleaned from the Odah 
 gossip, had not lost anything in its passage from oriental 
 tongue to oriental tongue, though accurate in the main. 
 We subsequently learnt, through Lailah Khanoum, that 
 we were granddaughters of the Sultana Victoria, and 
 I was under promise to marry Abdul Hamid if I was 
 satisfied with the look of his realm after a tour of in- 
 spection. We did not attempt the thankless task of 
 correcting it. As it was it had increased the Beg's 
 respect for us. 
 
 He expressed his sorrow for the danger of Kharlis, 
 and asked for further particulars, as news from the west 
 had been scarce of late at Kalmaru. I told him briefly 
 our latest information, adding : " And thou, Beg 
 Eifen', art a Hamidieh Yozbashi." 
 
 His eyes drooped. " Kharlis is without the pale of 
 my rule, Khanoum Effen'." 
 
 " The besiegers are Gadarwands," I said. " Is it 
 true, that word thou spakest in Roum, that thy tribe 
 be more than a handful, yea, even of power to keep 
 up a feud with another strong tribe ? " 
 
 "It is growing to the time of Allah's Yearly Truce, 
 Klianoum." 
 
 I could see he was hedging, and was only reminding
 
 The Law of Qisas 117 
 
 me that the snow would soon put a stop to all war 
 operations for the winter, because he did not like to 
 attack the Gadarwands while they were harrying 
 Christians, for fear the Padishah should think he 
 favoured the latter. The Gadarwands probably counted 
 on this. My ace must go on the table. 
 
 Evelyn was more of a novelty to the women than I 
 was, and we had been conversing unnoticed while they 
 devoted themselves to her. " Lailah Khanoum, we 
 have been speaking of feuds," I said, raising my voice. 
 '* Didst live in Kaknaru in the days wherein the Gadar- 
 wands raided it ? " 
 
 " Verily, Khanoum," her eyes flickered. " The 
 number of my fingers that was the number of my 
 years then, it was twice as many years ago, and I re- 
 member it all ! But for the Khanoum Effen* we were 
 all dead now." 
 
 " Indeed ? " I lifted my eyebrows. 
 
 " Truly. Most of the men were absent on a raid to 
 the north, and we were women and children, boys and 
 old men here. Then, in the day's middle, came the 
 Khanoum Effen', and she cried to us : ' Women and 
 little ones and greyheads, Allah hath sent me to tell 
 ye the Gadarwands be upon ye ! ' 
 
 " And we were as sheep waiting the butcher ; but she 
 made us all gather in the Diz and shut the gates. And, 
 Allah, how she drove us ! Boiling lead and boiling water 
 and heated stones were our main weapons, but a few 
 guns were with us, and she was with us ! -Y' Allah, we 
 obeyed her as though she had been the Beg's self. The 
 children wrought as full-grown women, the old and the 
 boys as men, and the grown women as so many Rus- 
 tams ! And she stood on the roof and used a gun, and 
 Allah the Inheritor and the Nekirin alone know how 
 many she slew ere the pistol, exploding in the hand of 
 one of our lads as he fell dead beside her, burnt her face
 
 118 The Law of Qisas 
 
 and her eyes ! And, being blinded, she lashed us with 
 her tongue so that we held the Diz until the besiegers 
 retired for fear our men should return and hem them 
 in unawares." 
 
 " I was told somewhat of that at Mouschat," I 
 assented. " And during these twenty years since the 
 feud hath gone on ? But what was done to punish the 
 Gadar wands for that raid ? " 
 
 I turned to the Beg with the question, Lailah returned 
 to Evelyn. " All Kurdistan laughed at the Gadarwands 
 who were driven by women, boys, and the old," Ischaryar 
 replied. I nodded. 
 
 " Well, but I thought ye Kurds were Moslems ; hath 
 the law of Qisas been abrogated in Kurdistan ? " 
 
 He stared. " It is a very good law," I went on, 
 meditatively. " It runneth, if my memory serves, 
 ' Life for life, tooth for tooth, eye for eye, and a raid 
 on unprotected villages for a raid on unprotected 
 villages.' Is it not so, Beg Effen' ? " 
 
 Ischaryar would never have thought of it all by him- 
 self. He was rather stupid by nature. At my words 
 he grinned ever so little. 
 
 ** If trouble rose at home and the Gadarwands re- 
 turned to see about it they would have neither strength 
 nor stomach to return to Kharlis before the Diabekr 
 troops came in," he said. 
 
 " We were not speaking of Kharlis," I answered. 
 ** We were but discussing the law of Qisas to divert 
 my mind from sad thoughts of my friends in the 
 town." 
 
 His grin became irrepressible. I had touched his 
 Kurdish spirit of vengeance and Kurdish humour. 
 What a good thought it was ! The feud had gone on 
 for years with varying success, but, Allah '1 Hasib, here 
 was place for a master-stroke ! Kurdistan would talk 
 of it ; how Ischaryar of Kalmaru had nursed his ven-
 
 The Law of Qisas 119 
 
 geance from youth to manhood, and then, after twenty 
 years, had in one mighty day made his foes pay in kind 
 and with interest ! Kurds nurse and gloat over their 
 vendettas as a British squire keeps and brags over his 
 port. After a few minutes' silent cogitation he strode 
 out. The seed was sown.
 
 Chapter VIII 
 
 AT that point a slave ran in to report that the Khanoum 
 Effen' was awake, and wanted to know the reason of 
 the unusual bustle. Esma ran to enlighten her ; I 
 turned hesitatingly to Evelyn. 
 
 " Oh, I'm all right now, Rathia," she returned coldly, 
 to my inquiries. " No sal volatile, thank you ; I do 
 not need any more of your stimulants at present." 
 
 Sadly I reflected that she must be offended beyond 
 forgiveness to indulge in spite. The voice of Esma, 
 discoursing artlessly as she returned along a passage 
 from the inner apartments, saved further speech. 
 
 " Haste, do haste, O Effen' Jan ! " she was saying, 
 in incautious top notes. " I tell you they are not 
 human ! The little one is like Nebbi Daoud in our 
 Orusse picture, all pink and white and gold, and the 
 elder is like a hawk and a cypress at once ! I believe 
 they are Piris." 
 
 " Hush, child ! " returned an older, mellower voice, 
 in the grave tone with a laugh at the back of it peculiar 
 to elderly folk chiding a young favourite. " Mas'allah 1 
 It is ill to speak evil of rulers, and, I pray thee, is not the 
 bidden guest Ruler of All, and the unbidden one Ruler 
 of even the bidden ? " 
 
 " But, Khanoum Effen', Piris be good spirits ; at the 
 least not so evil as the other Jinn," pouted Esma, as 
 she led her companion into the room. 
 
 120
 
 The Mysterious Lady of Kalmaru 121 
 
 The head lady of Kalmaru was extremely tall ; as she 
 stepped into the firelight she made an imposing picture, 
 with her loose-flowing violet and black silk garments, 
 her snow-white hair gleaming in patches through the 
 mesh of gold chains strung with coins, tomauns, and 
 medjidieh, and even several Parthian and Sassanian 
 pieces which dangled round her head and over the 
 upper part of her features. On account of this network, 
 it was difficult to make out her face distinctly ; all we 
 could be sure of for the while comprised a firm, square 
 chin, full, closely folded lips, and a grandly moulded 
 neck. A well-preserved, middle-aged woman, I decided. 
 She raised her right hand, a beautiful hand, the nails 
 delicately tinted with henna, and spoke : 
 
 ** 'Salamu alai koum, Bism'illah '1 Kerim ! " she 
 intoned in a deep and resonant tone. " Guests be ever 
 welcome here, and doubly so unknown Children of the 
 Road." 
 
 *' 'Salamu alaika wa rahmatu'llahi ! " I returned. 
 " We be ladies of Frankistan, two sisters, by name 
 Evelyn Jerningham and Rathia Jerningham. This is 
 my sister Evelyn " 
 
 " Feringhi ladies ? " she interrupted, her voice shrill 
 on a sudden. " Jerningham ? In Name of Allah " 
 
 " The Khanoums are Unbelievers, it is true, but they 
 be most gracious Unbelievers and guests," interposed 
 Lailah anxiously. 
 
 While I was speaking the elder woman had started 
 forward and was staring in my direction with a tense 
 intentness that was startling in its contrast to her 
 manner of a minute before. Her lips were parted and 
 rigid, her hands clenched and trembling, and, to see the 
 better, she shook the dangling chains aside from her 
 face. The revelation thus made caused us both to start 
 with horror; the upper part of her features was a seamed, 
 drawn mass of pits and scars, healed, but twisted out
 
 122 The Mysterious Lady of Kalmaru 
 
 of all proper shape, and her eyes were bloodshot balls 
 veined with blotches of chalky blue alone. 
 
 Lailah's tale of the siege recurred to me; the Khanoum 
 Effen' was partly blind. As swiftly as she had shown 
 the emotion it vanished; she straightened herself and 
 laughed low and sweetly. " Khanoum, Feringhi ladies 
 do not come to Kalmaru every moon ! " she cried. " We 
 have heard of them from the Beg, but y'Allah, would 
 you not be astonished if two Kurdish ladies came with- 
 out warning to your home in Frankistan ? " 
 
 " Verily, Effen' ! " I echoed the laugh. " Give me 
 the pleasure " 
 
 She had taken a step in a confused way ; we all 
 jumped up, I was first and led her to the seat of honour. 
 She retained my hand, and peered at me through the 
 chains. " So thou art named Rathia ? " she said. " And 
 this is thy sister ? " she bent and looked intently at 
 Evelyn. " Ah, thou art easy to discern, little one," 
 she said. *' Hair of gold and shining skyey eyes ; 
 a true Feringhi Khanoum, such as the Beg saw in 
 Roum." 
 
 " My sister cannot understand Zaza," I explained. 
 
 " But thou canst," she turned to me. I had taken a 
 seat beside her. " Thou art harder to discern. Wilt 
 thou have mercy on a half-blind woman ? " 
 
 The apology was for her extended hands ; nobody 
 could have objected to the touch with which her deli- 
 cate finger-tips traced my features. They trembled as 
 they lingered on my cheeks. " Sister to the golden 
 Khanoum ! " she said, laughing softly. " It seems 
 that the dove and the falcon come from the same egg 
 in wondrous Frankistan 1 And Allah hath sent you to 
 us ? " 
 
 It was a polite way of asking how we came there. I 
 told all in a few words. She listened in silence, her chin 
 on her palm. " And so we came to the Cleft, and came
 
 The Mysterious Lady of Kalmaru 123 
 
 through with toil, the wind being contrary and the snow 
 falling " 
 
 When I reached this point she laid her hands on my 
 shoulders. " Wet ! " she exclaimed sharply. *' Lailah, 
 Esma, we are eating dirt in that we leave our guests in 
 damp and discomfort to amuse us with tales ! " 
 
 " Allah forgive us ! " cried Lailah, conscience-smitten. 
 
 " He will when we have whitened our faces again," 
 returned the head lady. " Follow me, of your kindness, 
 Rathia Khanoum and Evelyn Khanoum." 
 
 The Diz was a warren of corridors and rooms. The 
 Khanoum Effen', after giving a few orders, led us into 
 the complex, walking before us with a splendid swing 
 of the hips and shoulders and just touching the walls 
 now and then with her fingers, after the way of purblind 
 folk in a known place. Evelyn did not speak to me, 
 but devoted her attention to Esma, who kept beside her 
 and sustained a jerky conversation in dumb-show. 
 
 " Bism'illah ! " The Khanoum Effen' held a curtain 
 back. " Please you to remember, Khanoums, this 
 house is your own." 
 
 She ushered us into a large, dusky room. At one side 
 were mattresses rolled in chintz covers, at the other a 
 line of mule-trunks ; a cushioned divan ran across the 
 far end, green and brown Kermanshah felts covered 
 most of the floor; a copper brazier smouldered before 
 the divan. 
 
 Our conductor sent the slaves, who had ventured to 
 follow us, packing by means of a few curt sentences, 
 and sent Esma on an errand. " Hot water," I said, to 
 break the ice. " Kurds have some idea that it can be 
 put to some uses other than making tea and scalding 
 besiegers, Evie." 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders carelessly. " Your gar- 
 ments are wet and mired," our hostess observed. " Will 
 you condescend to wear some of ours while they dry ? "
 
 124 The Mysterious Lady of Kalmaru 
 
 We expressed our obligation, she opened a trunk and 
 began to turn over piles of silk and linen. 
 
 " Now I wonder how long we will be here ? " said 
 Evelyn in an impersonal tone. " When will the Diabekr 
 troops reach Kharlis ? " 
 
 I was tired and disheartened and forgot myself. ** In 
 a week " I began. 
 
 " In a week ? " she almost shrieked. " The town 
 cannot hold out until then ! You did not tell me 
 
 I bit my lip in vexation. It must be full truth again. 
 " You did not ask me for the exact date. You need 
 not be distressed, however ; the Beg will relieve the town 
 to-morrow. When he returned to the men's room I 
 heard him sending messengers to summon the clansmen 
 from the other villages. They depart in the morning." 
 
 " What ! Did you persuade him ? " 
 
 " I did." 
 
 ** He dare not help Christians before. It is hard to 
 believe " 
 
 ' You think I am lying ? " I retorted as she hesitated. 
 
 " You you made me believe that the troops would 
 come in time." She looked at me, white-faced, and 
 with disgust and horror in her sapphire eyes. I grew 
 reckless with anger. " Will you believe logical proof ? " 
 I demanded. " It would not do for the Beg to help 
 Christians, but he was ready enough to do an ugly turn 
 to his enemies the Gadarwands. I accordingly pointed 
 out that their villages are at present solely inhabited by 
 old men, children, and women " 
 
 " Rathia ! You said that ? " 
 
 " I commented on it, and to-morrow the marksmen 
 go to raid them." I stared at her coolly. " Do you 
 not perceive ? The Gadarwands will hear of the chappaw 
 and leave Kharlis while they go to the rescue, and so 
 there will be a great intertribal fighting and no time for 
 further Christian-harrying this year."
 
 The Mysterious Lady of Kalmaru 125 
 
 " But to set the men on the unprotected villages I " 
 And she looked dazed. 
 
 " To save Kharlis." 
 
 " A wrong to right a wrong." 
 
 " A means to an end." 
 
 " I believe you are joking, Rathia." 
 
 " I would not venture to joke with you at present. By 
 the honour of my mother ! You can believe me now." 
 
 " Rathia, if this is true you are a devil ! " 
 
 " I am a devil then." 
 
 Suddenly she gripped my wrists and looked fairly 
 into my eyes. " Rathia, I cannot believe this, even of 
 you. You have done horrid things before, but your 
 reasons What made you do this ? " 
 
 How that " even " stung ! " The Gadarwand spy," 
 I answered. " I noticed him in the hall ; Ischaryar 
 does not suspect him ; when the men assemble he will 
 take a short cut to Kharlis you perceive ? Ischaryar's 
 muster will take a long north-west path round the 
 hills ; the Gadarwands, warned, will be able to intercept 
 them before they get to the village. It will thus resolve 
 itself into a fight between two well-matched parties of 
 men." 
 
 " Oh, Rathia 1 How I have misjudged you ! " 
 
 " No, you were right. I am a devil. Just think of 
 the treachery of sending our host out though I will say, 
 in my defence, that I am sure Ischaryar will have the 
 best of it. Double treachery, as you will perceive, a 
 brutal affair altogether. But I am brutal witness your 
 shoulders." 
 
 She had removed some of her wet garments before we 
 began to talk. Her high-bred skin was as sensitive as 
 her high-bred pride the lashes had left raised purple 
 brands on the snow of it. Suddenly all my rage died ; 
 I laid my face on the marks and cried. As suddenly 
 her slim bare arms were round my neck.
 
 126 The Mysterious Lady of Kalmaru 
 
 " Dear Rathia ! Dear sister ! " she half sobbed. " I 
 have hated you for hours, yet all the time I knew every 
 blow hurt you more than me. You are always in the 
 right. Dear girl, can you ever forgive me ? " 
 
 She held me off and we looked into each other's eyes. 
 And I knew that perfect understanding had come to 
 us both. 
 
 " That is right," said a pleased voice. " Not to 
 forgive is against the law of your faith, Evelyn Khanoum. 
 Is it not written in your Injil that a woman should not 
 let the sun go down on her wrath, but leave the men to 
 fight it out ? " 
 
 The speaker was the Khanoum Effen'. And the 
 speech was couched in excellent English. 
 
 " Effen', what have you heard ? " was all I could 
 articulate. 
 
 " All about Kharlis," she replied placidly.
 
 Chapter IX 
 
 THE ENIGMATIC KHANOUM EFFEN* 
 
 WE were utterly undone, and, quite distraught by the 
 shock on top of the tiring day, I lost my head and did 
 the most foolish thing possible. I reached the Kurd 
 in a bound, flung one arm round her, pinioning her own 
 arms and holding her tight to me, and snatched a long 
 dagger from the silver sheath at her waist. She did not 
 call out, nor struggle, but stiffened in my grasp and 
 turned her staring eyes alternately from my face to the 
 light that ran up and down the dagger-blade as I held 
 the point quivering against her side. 
 
 " Khanoum, Khanoum ! Do not strike, for sake of 
 Allah 'r Rahim, for the God of Pity's sake ! Not that 1 
 Not that, O Allah al Kabir ! " she cried at last. 
 
 I have never heard another human voice express such 
 abject fear. Her rich, deep tones had suddenly de- 
 veloped the shrill whimper of a trapped animal. And 
 yet Lailah had described her for a reckless Amazon ! 
 
 " Rathia, don't 1 " Evelyn cried simultaneously. 
 "Not that!" 
 
 For a few moments I stood, the woman's body 
 clutched to mine, the dagger ready, and her opaque 
 eyes glaring unutterable horror into my own. It was 
 not, ultimately, even Evelyn's pleading that made me 
 release her. It was the appeal of those half-blinded 
 eyes. I stepped back sullenly. 
 
 " Indeed, what good would it do to slay thee ? " I 
 said. 
 
 127
 
 128 The Enigmatic Khanoum Effen' 
 
 She stood, a little dazed, put her hands out gropingty, 
 took a step forwards, and almost swayed over. Promptly 
 Evelyn seized one of the hands and led her to the divan. 
 
 " Thank you," said the Kurd, in her correct, stiff 
 English. " I seem to see a thicker mist than is custom- 
 ary with me. Rathia Khanoum, you have rubbed dirt 
 upon your hands ; why did you do so foolish a thing ? " 
 
 " Because I was crazed," I replied. " I have truly 
 slain my sister. Dear Evelyn " and I turned to her 
 " I have brought you into this trap " 
 
 " If you had taken me into your confidence I would 
 willingly have taken the risk of our failing, to try and 
 save the poor folk at Kharlis. It is not your fault that 
 we have failed, dear Rathia. Who would have dreamed 
 of a Kurd in mid-Kurdistan understanding English ? " 
 she returned quietly. 
 
 " But, dear little sister our failing spells Death." 
 
 " But, dear big sister, I never expected to live for 
 ever ! " 
 
 " You are so young to die " 
 
 " Young or old one can 
 
 ". . . die 
 
 As a great dame should decorously."' 
 
 She repeated the quotation with a lilt, and smiled 
 the while with steady-shining eyes and scornful lips, 
 looking as her French compeers must have looked as 
 they exchanged weather-chat in the tumbrils. 
 
 " God forgive me ! " I said. " Khanoum Effen', here 
 is your khanjar," and I flung it down at her feet. " My 
 pistol I keep, but it is not for thee nor any other Kurd. 
 Call now for assistance, and tell the tale." 
 
 At the moment Esma bustled in with a steaming 
 bowl. It was past the grotesque ; her girlish self- 
 satisfaction and enjoyment of the strange visitors 
 coming in that heart of tragedy. I held my breath and
 
 The Enigmatic Khanoum Effen' 129 
 
 waited, an arm round Evelyn and a hand on my re- 
 volver. 
 
 " Now thou wilt bring a set of thy finest raiment for 
 the little Khanoum," said the Khanoum Effen'. 
 
 The girl glided away, well pleased. " I have seen a 
 cat playing with a pair of mice she has lamed," I said 
 grimly. 
 
 " Listen, Khanoum," our tormentor replied. " In 
 Frankistan is it not the way for men to assure a woman 
 she is an angel and to treat her as though she were a 
 fool ? I assure you you are a fool, and will treat you 
 both as though you were angels." 
 
 She broke off, unwound the Kerman shawl from her 
 own hips, and folded it carefully round Evelyn's bare 
 shoulders. " You will catch cold, my child," she 
 observed. " Your sister is careless of you " 
 
 " Indeed she is not," retorted Evelyn with vigour. 
 " What use to think of cold when we are to die in a little 
 tune ? " 
 
 "Die?" repeated the Khanoum Effen'. "Most 
 foolish of children, why should I cause you to die ? 
 Your plot to make a battle ? Am I a fool, I pray, that 
 I should bring the wrath of the Queen of England 
 on us for the killing of two of her subjects ? How 
 am I to prove your plotting, also ? If I say simply to 
 Ischaryar : ' The stranger who came to-day is a 
 Gadarwand spy, I know it,' will not the young men fall 
 on your spy and slay him at once and what of your 
 plot then ? " 
 
 This was true. Why had I not thought of it in time ? 
 This woman who knew English and the power of Britain 
 might well have let us go scot free, and contented herself 
 with nipping our scheme in the bud but for one thing 
 " If I had not attacked you, you would have been 
 content with frustrating our plans ? " I asked, iu 
 despair.
 
 130 The Enigmatic Khanoum Effen' 
 
 " Why did you do it ? " she asked back. " I marvel 
 you did not perceive that it was the worst thing you 
 could do." 
 
 " My sister, for the moment, was incapable of re- 
 flection," Evelyn returned hotly. " She is as my 
 mother " 
 
 " Yes, yes ! " cried the Kurd. " Mothers will do 
 anything for their children. Doubtless Lailah hath 
 told you I am a barren woman, but, by the Glory of 
 Allah, if I had a child I I would fire the world and 
 burn all other mothers' children on it to warm her 
 hands if she had need of it ! I'd break all Allah's laws 
 to please her, and go to hell content if that would make 
 me a stepping-stone for her to mount to heaven ! " 
 
 She had spoken with increasing passion ;. now she 
 checked herself, and, in her usual tone, resumed : "It 
 was well done, in a way ; tell me, though, v' y did you 
 release me so suddenly ? Was it for your sister's 
 pleading ? " 
 
 " Nay," I returned. " It was because because I 
 could not strike you. You are older than I am and 
 and I am grieved that you cannot see well and and 
 I could not strike." 
 
 I was never so much at a loss for words. " Al- 
 hamdu'Pllah ! Pay for a score of years ! " she muttered 
 to herself. Then she sank on the divan and motioned 
 me to sit beside her. 
 
 The woman bewitched me. I obeyed. If any other 
 Oriental had bidden me establish myself side by side 
 with her after the preceding scene I would have declined, 
 for fear of finding a spare knife hi my ribs anon. She 
 laid a hand on mine. " Do you know what ' I swear 
 by Allah '1 Aziz,' means ? " she asked. 
 
 "It is an oath that, with Moslems, admits of no 
 mental reservation." 
 
 " Then, by Allah '1 Aziz, I bear you no grudge for
 
 The Enigmatic Khanoum Effen* 131 
 
 aught you have done ! You may eat and drink and 
 sleep in peace in this house for me. Yea, you and your 
 sister. By Allah al Qawi, al Majid, '1 Aziz ! " 
 
 " You will be content with frustrating our plans ? " 
 I cried. 
 
 " And killing the poor spy ? " Evelyn supplemented. 
 
 The Kurd laughed. " He may likewise eat and sleep 
 safely. Listen ; I speak English, and in some things I 
 have English thoughts, and one is that it is ugly to 
 send armed men on women and little children. Indeed, 
 I was horror-struck when I heard you had advised it, 
 Rathia Khanoum, and my joy when you explained your 
 real purpose to your sister caused me to forget myself 
 and speak in English. Otherwise, it had been my in- 
 tention to let your plans go on " 
 
 " You meant to allow your tribe to run into an 
 ambush ? " I said. " Is not that a little hard to be- 
 lieve ? " 
 
 " Believe it, Khanoum, if only for its latek of plausi- 
 bility. Yes, I would have let them run into an ambush 
 but with their eyes open. I have a reputation for 
 owning the gift of prophecy ; I will say to the Beg that 
 I have in a dream seen our men meet with a foe on. the 
 way ; and so he will be on his gjlard. Our muster will 
 be well able to beat any force the Gadarwand can send. 
 Yes " here her expression became pensive " it is an 
 excellent thing for us. The word of one spy will not 
 count against that of a Beg and his whole men, and 
 that Beg a Hamidieh Yozbashi. We can swear, if the 
 Government makes inquiry, that the Gadarwand at- 
 tacked us first. And my forewarning will be to my 
 credit with our tribe." 
 
 " But why will you do this ? " I demanded in- 
 credulously. 
 
 " My first reason is evident. I owe the ascendancy 
 over the tribe which you will presently find I own to
 
 132 The Enigmatic Khanoum Effen' 
 
 my reputation as a prophetess, and am unwilling to 
 waste a chance of strengthening it. And, likewise, I 
 have English thoughts, and do not think it amiss that 
 those poor Christians and kindly missionaries at Kharlis 
 should be relieved. Do you now believe me ? " 
 
 " I do," said Evelyn with conviction. 
 
 " I do," I said, with surprise at myself. 
 
 ' You do wisely. Now, my children, I do you a 
 favour in one way ; do me one in return to seal your 
 belief. I speak English " 
 
 " Wonderfully," we both interrupted. 
 
 She smiled oddly. " It creaks a little from disuse, 
 like the boat-bridge below the Baghdad Touroumbah 
 opening to let a string of baggalah through ; but, what- 
 ever it is like, for my own purpose I have hidden my 
 knowledge of it since I came here, and beg you will not 
 betray me." 
 
 We promised. She must have read in our faces the 
 query we dare not enunciate. " Never mind how I 
 learnt it," she said, with a little passing frown. " Allah 
 knows He is merciful and compassionate." 
 
 " By witchcraft, I believe," I answered lightly. 
 
 " Yea, I am a witch," she agreed, speaking in Zaza. 
 
 Esma re-entered. " If thou art a witch, thy magic 
 is of Rahmani make, Khanoum Effen'," she said. 
 4 They burnt a Sheitani witch at Malatia last year and 
 my father brought me home a pinch of the ashes. I 
 have them in a bag round my neck for an evil eye 
 talisman. I am going to show it to the golden Khanoum, 
 and the tall Khanoum must tell her all about it." 
 
 She hooked a finger down her collar. " Nay, not so," 
 the Khanoum Effen' warned. " Feringhi ladies dislike 
 sueh-like talismans; if thou showest it to the little 
 Khanoum she will be disgusted, and, maybe, refuse to 
 wear thy raiment." 
 
 " Indeed, Effen' ? !! the girl sighed reluctantly. " I will
 
 The Enigmatic Khanoum Effen* 133 
 
 be guided by thee, though I dearly wished the little 
 Khanoum to see it. She hath a most beautiful watch, 
 given her by her father, and I wished to show her 
 that the fathers of Kurdish girls give them beautiful 
 and useful presents too. But I wish more to see her in 
 my raiment."
 
 Chapter X 
 
 TEE PAST OF THE KHANOUM EFFEN ' 
 
 BEHOLD Evelyn presently arrayed in Esma's Friday-go- 
 to-mosque toilette of petticoat-like silk trousers, tunic, 
 shawl-sash, and velvet jacket, her ultra-European little 
 head with its ethereal features and Psyche knot of pale 
 gold capping all incongruously ; her feet encased in 
 red Persian slippers, which afforded her the liveliest 
 delight, though they fell off frequently. Esma enacted 
 maid with equally vivacious enjoyment ; on the subject 
 of dress they needed no interpreter, but managed 
 capitally with dumb-show. 
 
 The Khanoum Effen', in the meantime, brought an 
 armful of her own garments. " The other women are 
 not of thy height, Effen'," she explained, and with 
 simple dignity helped me to dress. Evelyn, now rested 
 and in great spirits, shuffled over to admire me and 
 compare my appearance favourably with that of the 
 cycling ladies who had been the latest sensation when 
 she left London. 
 
 All Western by nature, she was quite satisfied with the 
 Khanoum Effen's promise. Her fun was contagious ; 
 I laughed back at her sallies, and wondered at myself 
 the while for trusting our hostess. She held us in the 
 hollow of her hand, yet trust her I did. 
 
 For pity's sake we then returned to the big room, 
 where Lailah and the Georgians had been dying in 
 agonies of inquisitiveness while we were out of sight ; 
 
 134
 
 The Past of the Khanoum E fieri' 135 
 
 and we all sat round the stamped leather dinner-mat 
 in company with the Beg, and I related our adventures 
 more at length and gave a summary of our respective 
 biographies while we feasted on dolma (which is the 
 nicest dish made anywhere if you are not tqo proud to 
 like onions), fowl, curds, clotted cream, pilau, manna 
 sweetmeats, and blanket bread. 
 
 The Khanoum Effen' had posted herself where there 
 was much shade, and, as I had been placed at her right 
 hand, I could observe her closely. Beyond seeing to 
 my wants, she paid no attention to the meal ; she spoke 
 but rarely too, but that seemed to be her usual habit, 
 and her scarce words were listened to with proportionate 
 respect. When dinner was ended and the cigarettes 
 and tea circulated I leant back to study her profile 
 carefully. 
 
 At the other side of her Evelyn was holding an 
 animated conversation with the Beg in French, and on 
 her the whole attention of the company was fixed, 
 Esma crouching at her feet in company with Semiramis ; 
 overcoming her Moslem dislike of dogs for the rapture 
 of gazing on this blonde marvel from afar. Throughout 
 our stay it was the same ; I was left comparatively in 
 the background, and it was only natural; a woman 
 speaking good Zaza, built like a Beyreuth leading 
 contralto, and coloured like a Christmas Number 
 presentation plate, was too much in tjie style of our 
 hostesses to attract notice. 
 
 So the others hung breathlessly on the Beg's transla- 
 tions ; even the stately Khanoum Effen' turned to 
 listen, and so I inspected her at ease. What a lovely 
 woman she must have been ! Even now, with the 
 chains and coins mercifully hiding the wrecked eyes, 
 she was beautiful. The lips and chin and mobile 
 nostrils were delicately cut as Evelyn's own, but of a 
 rich, full cast ; looking at her I thought of Trojan Helen
 
 136 The Past of the Khanoum Effen' 
 
 Helen, back at Sparta mature, and chastened, and 
 tight lipped with memory of the years behind. Also, 
 in a vague way, the grand, spoiled face put me in mind 
 of some other I knew but could not name ; it might be 
 the De la Borde head from the Parthenon. 
 
 But the beauty was a secondary matter ; I analysed 
 every one of the features by the same test " True or 
 treacherous?" And every line said "True." And 
 still I was uneasy, for my folly alone had put Evelyn's 
 life in this stranger's power. 
 
 I could not be allowed to remain silent for long. 
 Turning her head to me in a covert way, and finding my 
 eyes scanning her, the Khanoum Effen' was startled 
 for a moment out of her composure. 
 
 " My dear " she began, then, checking herself 
 
 with oriental adroitness, covered her slip by proceeding 
 in Zaza without a change of tone " What is the mean- 
 ing of that, Effen' ? Ye use. it frequently, thou and thy 
 sister. Is it like our ' Inshallah ' ? " 
 
 " Nay, Effen', it is but an affectionate form of address 
 used by Englishwomen when they be fond of one another." 
 
 " Truly ye love one another very greatly," she com- 
 mented. " But then ye are sisters." 
 
 " That is hard to believe," said Lailah. The Georgians 
 chorused assent. They did not speak much ; they knew 
 their places, and that, as ex-slaves, it behoved them to 
 let the free-born ladies do the talking. 
 
 In a foolish moment I explained our relationship. It 
 is always a trouble for Eastern people, with some know- 
 ledge of the monogamous habits of the West, to under- 
 stand it. The Beg, after a pause for cogitation, looked 
 triumphant. 
 
 " Deux sceurs, deux meres, un pre," he observed. 
 '* I perceive, thou, Rathia Khanoum, art the elder and 
 leader, thy mother I gather was the wife, and the mother 
 of Evelyn Khanoum was but a "
 
 137 
 
 Oh dear ! How smartly Evelyn put him right ! 
 '* You should not be vexed," I chided in English. " It's 
 bad form, and, besides, he did not mean anything." 
 
 " I know," she responded. " Still, do you expect me 
 not to be wild when I hear such a word used in con- 
 nection with Mother ? " 
 
 But she made amends at once and charmed the 
 startled Beg afresh until he was able to discuss our 
 future plans with quietness. We gently but firmly 
 declined Lailah's invitation to stay for the winter, and 
 insisted that we must start the very next day to relieve 
 our father's anxiety. 
 
 " The dog-fathered Gadarwand hold the high-road," 
 said one of the Georgians. 
 
 " By Allah's decree," I agreed. " But, Beg Effen', 
 can you not spare a brace of your men who know of 
 by-roads ? " 
 
 He looked grave. " It so happens, Khanoum, that I 
 ride with my men in the early part of to-morrow 
 Inshallah ! on business " 
 
 " Nevertheless, since the Khanoums are bent on 
 rejoining their father, we must aid them," said Lailah. 
 " AH and Zaid are somewhat young for thy business, 
 my husband ; they shall escort our guests ; their presence 
 will be better guard than a hundred common men." 
 
 Ali and Zaid were her eldest sons. The Khanoum 
 Effen' spoke : " Rathia Khanoum, we know more ways 
 from our home than the high-road. We would detain 
 ye as long as we might, but when ye elect to leave us 
 poorer of your company we will show ye a road by the 
 which ye may in one hour come within sight of the town 
 Bitfa." 
 
 Bitfa is a town on the main Akhlat road, between 
 Kochma and Kharlis, and only some ten miles distant 
 from the former place. I stared. " Is it safe, Effen' ? " 
 the Beg whispered.
 
 138 The Past of the Khanoum Effen' 
 
 " The Khanoums have not come to spy ways to our 
 home, my son," she responded. " Rathia Khanoum, by 
 to-morrow it is a question whether thy father will be at 
 Kochma or Bitfa ; my grandsons shall take ye first 
 to Bitfa, then if ye must on to Kochma it is but two 
 hours' ride. As to the way, ye shall see it Inshallah ! 
 to-morrow." 
 
 So it was settled, and we talked the night away until 
 Evelyn began to nod in the middle of her own best 
 story. " Our guests are weary," said the Khanoum 
 Effen', and sent the others after various things for our 
 comfort while she escorted us to our room. 
 
 It' was the same one to which we had been taken 
 before. " This is my apartment, when we do not enter- 
 tain English ladies," she said, facing me with something 
 of defiance in her tone. " So far I have not been out of 
 earshot of ye ; ye therefore know I have had no oppor- 
 tunity of betraying you yet. Now, weary as you are, 
 Rathia Khanoum, I presume you will keep watch all 
 night lest I get to treachery and harm befall your 
 sister." 
 
 My words of denial died as she went on. " You 
 will ! You have been saying in your heart : * The fear 
 will begin when the Khanoum Effen' is out of my sight ! ' 
 Sah !' Don't deny it, child. When my grandchild 
 comes to remove my necessary property do you say, as it 
 were of your courtesy, you would not have me disturbed, 
 and I will stay here the night." 
 
 I made a gesture of dissent. " You need not mind 
 my presence for one night," she added. 
 
 *' Your company would give us pleasure," I replied. 
 " I am truly loath to drive you out." 
 
 " You can place your bed across the doorway so that 
 I cannot get out of the room without waking you," she 
 went on. 
 
 " We will certainly do nothing of the sort."
 
 The Past of the Khanoum Effen' 139 
 
 " You fear a certain draught more than possible 
 treachery ? " she laughed. 
 
 " My sister believes in you," interposed Evelyn. 
 " She has no fear of treachery from you, but she thinks 
 it clever to be suspicious of every one. She would have 
 made a fine policeman." 
 
 " Policeman, my dear ? " The Khanoum Effen' 
 looked puzzled. It was odd to find an English-speaking 
 person who did not know what the article was. 
 
 " A Feringhi sowar," I explained. 
 
 " As like a sowar as houris are like angels," Evelyn 
 said, with British bumptiousness. " I'm glad you'll 
 stay, Effen'." 
 
 So our hostess took up her quarters at one end of the 
 big room and we had the other, and I was glad enough 
 to crawl between the blankets and dare to take some 
 rest. I have dog's ears, and she could not stir without 
 my knowledge. 
 
 After a great deal of trampling the Diz sank into the 
 silence of a few hours' slumber. I do not know how 
 long we had slept, but it was certainly the middle of the 
 night when a sound of stealthy footsteps woke me. I 
 was on the alert at once, but instinctively did not 
 move ; Evelyn lay sound asleep by my side and Semi- 
 ramis hunted in dreams and snored about it at our feet ; 
 a lamp burnt dimly in a niche, and, my eyes growing 
 fitted to the light, the cause of the microscopic noise 
 was apparent. The Khanoum Effen' had stepped 
 lightly across the room and now dropped on her knees 
 beside me. 
 
 She bent over me. I half closed my eyes, not that 
 she could see if they were open, with her own partial 
 blindness. " Rathia Khanoum, are you awake ? " she 
 asked distinctly. 
 
 I thought it best to return no answer. For all the 
 chilly midnight a cold dew came over my forehead.
 
 140 The Past of the Khanoum Effen' 
 
 This was a trap : if she had really wished to waken me 
 she would have touched me. 
 
 Then she remained kneeling in silence. What could 
 I do ? I dare not move, for various prudential reasons 
 and one personal one. In the matter of quickness of 
 movement a woman on her knees has the advantage of 
 one who is lying on her back and hampered by several 
 blankets and a bearskin. Secondly, there was just a 
 chance that she was actuated by no more evil a motive 
 than inquisitiveness, in which case a fresh attack on 
 my part would undoubtedly outwear her patience. 
 And, for personal reason, I shrank from again touching 
 her roughly ; at thought of it an ugly tingling ran down 
 the arm with which I had gripped her before. 
 
 So I lay helpless, and she knelt silently, and presently 
 bent over me. I could not be really sure that I felt a 
 kiss on my forehead and a hand smoothing my hair; 
 people with poor sight have such a sense of touch, but 
 in some unintelligible way the futility of my suspicions 
 came over me like a wave, the galvanic fit of activity 
 spurred by it into my brain died, and I was at peace and 
 sleepy again. 
 
 " Janan-i-man ! " she whispered, then, as though 
 alarmed at her boldness : " Rathia Khanoum, are you 
 cold ? " 
 
 I made no answer, simply because I was sleepy and 
 unafraid. She sank back on her heels, I relapsed into 
 slumber, and left her kneeling there. 
 
 When the patter of the waking Diz roused us she was 
 at her own end of the room, putting a final touch of 
 rouge on her lips with the air of one just awakened from 
 a good night's rest. I did not tell her I had heard her 
 creeping away from beside me a little while earlier ; 
 why she should elect to spend the night on her knees 
 was a mystery to me, and I was willing to let it pass at 
 that. Of course I could not help speculating a great
 
 The Past of the Khanoum Effen' 141 
 
 deal while I performed my own toilet. Somnambulism 
 was feasible to some extent ; she might have been 
 acting over some bygone joy or tragedy in her sleep 
 but then she had spoken my name, and had corrected 
 herself hurriedly when an incautious raising of her voice 
 might have been calculated to wake me. I could find 
 no solution. I could not even understand my own 
 refusal to distrust her. 
 
 When we came out to the courtyard the clan had 
 gathered, five hundred well-mounted warriors, and the 
 Beg led them off northwards, leaving Ali and Zaid 
 looking very sour at having to stay behind. We took 
 our own departure soon afterwards. 
 
 " What a beautiful woman the Khanoum Effen' must 
 have been in her youth ! " I remarked to Lailah after 
 breakfast, while the Khanoum Effen' herself was out 
 of hearing, absorbed in a conversation, conducted in 
 halting Turkish, with Evelyn. " Doubtless she was 
 renowned as the Flower of her Tribe, my sister." 
 
 " She was but a town Kurd," replied Lailah. 
 
 44 A town Kurd ? " I repeated. , 
 
 *' Verily, from Trebizond." 
 
 44 Thy husband's grandfather travelled far for his 
 marrying, then ? " 
 
 44 Y' Allah, nay ! She was waiting in the Diz for him 
 when first his eyes lit on her. It is quite a little tale, 
 and by Ali (on whom be blessings !) she was beautiful 
 as Nimroud Dagh on a showery noon ! Twenty years 
 ago, Khanoum, and I was but young then, but by Allah 
 and His Prophet I remember the beauty of her in the 
 one hour between her coming and the coming of the 
 shot that scarred her. Women of the tribe who are 
 older than I remember it even better. Her hair was 
 like thine, Khanoum, red as the second shading of the 
 autumn leaves, Mas'allah ! And the colour of her 
 eyes no man can name, for they were all red fire. By
 
 142 The Past of the Khanoum Effen' 
 
 the Prophet (bliss attend his beard !) we took her for a 
 Piri at the first, then for Jibrail's self in woman's guise 
 when she rode into the court and bade us arm and made 
 us arm. Yea, and she heartened the old men to fight 
 like lads, and the lads to fight like warriors of thirty, 
 and the women to fight like the Bashi Bazouks there 
 were in my youth ! 
 
 " But you look bewildered," she checked herself 
 politely. " In a few words, Khanoum, it was the day 
 when, our men being absent on a chappaw, she rode, 
 alone and a stranger, into our court, and cried : ' Oh, 
 ye women, and ye the old and the too-young of Kalmaru ! 
 The enemy be upon ye ! ' And then you have heard. 
 The Gadarwands came, and she led us until the shot 
 came that took half her hair and half her sight. Then 
 she would remain by the loop-holes and urge us until 
 we drove them off. Then she was ill, very ill indeed 
 her hair went white ere she recovered and when she 
 was well again the old Beg, my lord's grandfather, loved 
 her, for all the scars, and made her his fourth wife." 
 
 '* And her life before her coming ? " I hinted. 
 
 " Y' Allah. As soon as we had beaten off the Gadar- 
 wands our men returned, led by a Turkish lad, and this 
 lad explained all, for she was too ill with her wounds to 
 be troubled with explanations. She was, he said, of a 
 family high in lineage, pure Hasanieh Seyyids, no less, 
 but so reduced that she had no relations left saving one 
 brother and their aged mother. And the mother, at 
 her dying, bade them bear her body to Kerbela that 
 it might rest near the dust of the blessed Imaum Hosain. 
 To fulfil the promise they made on the Perspicuous 
 Book they sold all they had to pay for the journey, 
 trusting that Allah would grant the man fortune to 
 make bread for both when their pious travelling was 
 done. It was on their return towards Trebizond that 
 their ill-fortune turned to our profit by Grace of He
 
 The Past of the Khanoum Effen' 143 
 
 who is 'r Rahmani, 'r Rahim. As they fared near 
 Kharlis, with the Turkish lad, Halet, as guide, they 
 fell into the hands of the Gadarwands who were bound 
 for our ill. The man the Gadarwands slew, flinging his 
 body into the nearest stream, but, for her beauty's sake, 
 they kept our Khanoum Effen' prisoner, putting her in 
 ward in the ruined Khan, where they rested a while. 
 They spoke freely before her, too, of their plans, and of 
 where our men were. Now the lad Halet had escaped, 
 but he returned and helped our Khanoum to get away. 
 They secured two of the Gadarwands' horses, and the 
 Khanoum, having pity for us and desire to avenge her 
 brother, sent Halet to find our men, while she came 
 herself to warn us. And how Allah sped her you 
 know."
 
 Chapter XI 
 
 THE unseasonable storm of yesterday was quite gone. 
 When Miksi Gauriel brought round the horses, all 
 splendidly fresh, we looked from the loop-holes of the 
 elevated courtyard over an inspiring world compounded 
 of even grey sky, powdered snow, and crisp air, below 
 zero, it is true, but windless and exhilarating. 
 
 Our friend the foxing Gadarwand took his departure 
 a while before we were ready. He bestowed thanks 
 and blessings on the Khanoum Effen', as the Beg's 
 proxy, and rode very ostentatiously due N.N.E. for 
 Akhlat. The Khanoum Effen' gave me a smile when 
 she caught me following him with my eyes. Her own 
 said that, once he was out of sight of the Diz, it would 
 be easy for him to turn due north-west with the brown 
 track stamped by five hundred sets of hoofs not an hour 
 ago plain guide in the dazzling whiteness to Kharlis. 
 
 Our own going was emotional. Esma wept on 
 Evelyn's shoulder, and would not be comforted, though 
 Evelyn's second-best watch had changed owners, the 
 Georgians sobbed unrestrainedly, Lailah was dignified 
 but depressed, all joined in bidding us come again soon 
 and to bring our relatives and our friends, and our 
 friends' friends, and Papa, and any new wives he might 
 have taken to himself in the interim. When we came 
 to say adieu to the Khanoum Effen' she shook her head. 
 " I will see you through the secret passage," she said. 
 
 144
 
 On the Track of the Ten Thousand 145 
 
 The others then wished to come too, but she bade 
 them stay and mind the house, and, wrapping herself in 
 a bearskin cloak, led us forth. The party consisted of 
 ourselves, Ali and Zaid, well-grown, sulky-faced youths 
 of fourteen and sixteen, each with a hawk on his wrist 
 and a budding moustache very much on his mind, and 
 four servants. The way was up the lip of the crater 
 much to west of the Cleft. We rode as far as was 
 possible until the path became a mere goat-track ; there 
 Miksi was blindfolded and taken in charge by Zaid, 
 while Ali and the four retainers, who were afoot, pulled 
 and hauled the five horses up the slippery blocks of 
 frosted rock which paved the ascent. 
 
 We expressed our willingness to be blinded. " Eng- 
 lish ladies do not spy," returned the Khanoum Effen'. 
 She led the way, on and on round projecting rocks, 
 along foot-wide terraces, and cunningly between great 
 boulders and the cliff they seemed to touch, until, quite 
 unexpectedly, we found ourselves walking into what 
 was apparently the mouth of a small cave. 
 
 " This is the point at which I could lead you into a 
 trap," she whispered, as we waited for the others to 
 join us. 
 
 " If you wished," I agreed, laughing. 
 
 ** You do trust me then ? " she demanded. 
 
 " Lead my sister and come behind me," I returned. 
 
 " Why do you trust me ? " she pursued. 
 
 " Allah knows I " I replied candidly. "I do 
 not ! " 
 
 Ali lit a Persian lantern; by its glow the men and 
 horses followed. The Khanoum Effen', needing no 
 light, took us each by a hand and piloted us ahead 
 through the pitch dark of the cave. It became evidently 
 a tunnel presently; she took the light and showed us 
 tool-marks on the rock- walls, behind the trickles of ice 
 over them.
 
 146 On the Track of the Ten Thousand 
 
 " Sultana Semiramis made all, Khanoum," Zaid 
 volunteered. 
 
 I had expected it. Semiramis is, north of Amadiyeh, 
 like Nimrod south of Eski Mosul : she made everything, 
 from Hittite inscriptions to Rupenian Khans. "It is 
 Assyrian," the Khanoum Effen' said in an undertone, 
 and we dare not ask how she knew it. 
 
 We took a long time to traverse the length of the 
 chilly, reverberating blackness. It was less cold to- 
 wards the close, dipping steeply ; quite unexpectedly we 
 entered open day at the foot, almost, of the mountain, 
 on a ledge blocked by a great boulder by which a spring 
 emerged and trickled down beneath the tangled icicles 
 hanging from the coarse grass along its margin. We 
 scrambled down farther, a complicated way, until I 
 could not have found the track back, and then Miksi 
 was given the use of his eyes again. 
 
 "It is farewell time," our leader pronounced. " An 
 hour's hard riding will take you Inshallah ! to Bitfa, 
 where your father will most likely be awaiting you, and 
 if he is not there it is but two more hours' journey to 
 Kochma. And the Kaimakam of Kochma is an old 
 man and a discreet; his one wife is sister of my hus- 
 band's grandson, the Beg, and with them ye can 
 stay if your father is yet upon the road. And now," 
 dropping her tone, "for your sad Feringhi salutation 
 * Good-bye ! ' " 
 
 " Our ' Good-bye ! ' does not mean l Farewell for 
 ever ! ' but ' God be with you until we meet again,' " I 
 returned. 
 
 " Ah, verily, it is our ' Khuda Hafiz ! ' ' she said. 
 " Then Good-bye ! " 
 
 We offered our hands. She held both, and added 
 with some wistfulness : " Thus it is young Feringhi 
 maidens part from a woman friend, is it not ? " 
 
 We kissed her in turn. " Good-bye 1 " she repeated,
 
 On the Track of the Ten Thousand 147 
 
 and, turning abruptly, vanished amongst the rocks with 
 the footmen. 
 
 Zaid and All led us on. " Who is she ? What ? " 
 whispered my sister in English, Miksi being in the rear 
 out of hearing. " Do you think, Rathia, she is a 
 renegade Englishwoman ? " 
 
 The suggestion annoyed me unaccountably. " Cer- 
 tainly not ; she has not a drop of any but oriental blood 
 in her. I can tell." 
 
 " Then where did she get her knowledge of English 
 and English ways ? Perhaps as a servant at some 
 Consulate ' ' 
 
 " My good child, there are castes in the East. Our 
 hostess is a gentlewoman as much as you are, or Aunt 
 Domitia is." 
 
 " True, then it becomes a mystery " 
 
 *' About one thing there is no mystery, Evie. She 
 has been very kind to us, and perhaps it is not in the 
 best taste to try to pry into her private affairs." 
 
 ** Peccavi I You are always right, Rathia ; judicious 
 fibbing, common courtesy, in everything like that you 
 are always right. And, for another certainty, how 
 lovely she must have been when she was young, almost 
 as beautiful as you ! " 
 
 I laughed at the engaging little wretch's flattery. 
 " As she is, did you ever see a finer figure ? " she went 
 on. " Without the aid of a mirror I mean, Rathia. And 
 her hands and feet are so small " 
 
 She paused and drew off her left gauntlet, replacing 
 it hurriedly on account of the temperature, but not 
 before^I/spied a massive gold circlet and a wink of 
 glowing blue on her third finger. " She gave it to me," 
 she proceeded. " It's a Meccan turquoise. She took it 
 off her own finger and it fits me, though I'm half a head 
 shorter than she is. She told me not to let you see it 
 until it was too late to return it, as English ladies have
 
 148 On the Track of the Ten Thousand 
 
 such an objection to accepting presents. Do you mind 
 if I keep it, dear ? " 
 
 Nobody could have minded with her big eyes coaxing. 
 I answered : " Certainly not. She seems to have 
 taken a great fancy to you. It may be that is what 
 saved us." 
 
 Our conductors led us by a road twisting, deserted, 
 but fairly open, and it was worth ten years of respectable 
 life that exhilarating gallop over fresh snow in an 
 atmosphere of keen, windless cold. After two hours 
 of it Evelyn drew my attention to the time. " Did not 
 the Khanoum say it was one hour's ride to Bitfa ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 " Orientals invariably either over- or under-estimate 
 distances," I replied, and called the question to Zaid. 
 
 " Khanoum, it is nearer three hours' ride, but would 
 you have the Khanoum Effen' dishearten you at the 
 start ? " was his reply. 
 
 " Lend me your compass charm," said Evelyn, when 
 I translated. " Is not Bitfa S.S.E. of Kalmaru ? We 
 are riding due N.W." 
 
 I questioned Zaid. " Pek ala, pek ala ! " he returned. 
 *' My humbleness was born in this land, Khanoum. 
 Presently the road bends, we will ride down on Bitfa 
 as the kite swoops. Fear not, we will take care that 
 ye come to Bitfa safely, by Allah al Qawi-al Majid ! If 
 ye doubt us " here he twirled as much of his moustache 
 as was long enough to twirl " at least remember that 
 if a hair falls from your heads we must answer to the 
 Khanoum EftenV 
 
 " She useth the rod, eh ? " I suggested. 
 
 " Nay, but she counteth the strokes as our father 
 strikes," he responded gravely. 
 
 " We are now following the track of the Ten Thou- 
 sand," I informed Evelyn as we proceeded. "You 
 know *'
 
 On the Track of the Ten Thousand 149 
 
 " What Ten Thousand ? American Upper ? " she 
 demanded. 
 
 " Don't be silly, for once. You know, the Hellenic 
 mercenaries who retired from Babylon to the Black Sea 
 under Xenophon and " 
 
 " That was before my time, and I do not care for the 
 classics when Fm cold and hungry " 
 
 " Cold ? Just imagine those poor Hellenes march- 
 ing: this way, later in the year too, in nasty, chilly 
 armour " 
 
 " I'd rather not imagine anything of the sort." 
 
 " and without so much as a single pair of fur- 
 lined boots^ between their twenty thousand feet " 
 
 " How much more awful if they had possessed a 
 single pair ! The horrors of internecine war for the 
 possession of them would have been added to your 
 Hellenes' plight ! " 
 
 I gave up the attempt to infuse enthusiasm into her 
 The dear child always objected to having her mind 
 improved. I have met with more loveable traits in 
 other people, but not many. 
 
 We came, anon, to a tumbledown Seljouk khan, and 
 camped in a weather-proof corner for lunch. Our enter- 
 tainers of Kalmaru had equipped us with a new leather 
 bag, which disgorged cold chicken, fruit and cakes, 
 sweetmeats, Kurdish bread in flaps a yard wide by a 
 yard long and a fifth of an inch thick, wrapped round 
 everything, and a bottle of tolerable Armenian wine, 
 for which I suspected the Khanoum Effen's forethought 
 and the orthodoxy of the family in general. Presently 
 I needed something out of my private bag ; it proved 
 heavier than usual ; inside was a package that chinked. 
 It was wrapped in a silk kerchief, pinned outside with a 
 thorn was a slip of paper bearing this, in fine Arabic : 
 
 " A present for thee. Do not tighten mine heart by
 
 150 On the Track of the Ten Thousand 
 
 a refusal. From Aminah, wife of the late Suttum Beg, 
 the grandfather of Ischaryar Beg of Kalmaru." 
 
 " So the Khanoum Effen's name is Aminah, and 
 that's her way of making you accept a present," said 
 Evelyn, much pleased, when I translated. " You'll 
 send her a nice note back, of course. Gracious, what 
 a junk-shop collection ! " 
 
 She absolutely sniffed as I opened the package ; I 
 myself was struck breathless. Miksi, who was waiting 
 on us, forgot his manners and stood gaping at the little 
 heap of cones and cylinders on my lap. 
 
 " Wealth of God ! " said he. " Signet-seals ! " And 
 so began to examine them. In matters of Orientology 
 we were no longer servant and mistress, but fellow- 
 enthusiasts. " Asshur-Nazirpal ! " he shrieked, as I 
 handed them one by one. " Nabu-Apli the rest il- 
 legible unreadable ; Ilu Ishtar House of Mar Shimoun, 
 these six, Rathia Khatoun, are Hittite ! " 
 
 The two Kurds eyed us in surprise over two drum- 
 sticks. "It is a parting gift to me from your grand- 
 mother," I explained. 
 
 " They come from a hill near our home, we dig and 
 find them, and good building bricks beside, and bones 
 and shards," said Ali. " They are work of the Jinn- 
 helped Kafirs of old time, and are excellent talismans 
 against the Evil Eye." 
 
 " Votive cones and signets from the ruins of an 
 Assyrian castle," I informed Evelyn. She listened 
 politely, but preferred her own turquoise. In silence 
 Miksi helped me to repack the bag ; we handled it with 
 reverence ; it now contained treasure enough to make 
 the reputation of a National Museum, I scribbled an 
 Arabic note for the donor, and we took the road again 
 in ecstasy. 
 
 The succeeding half-hour's ride threw Miksi into a fit
 
 On the Track of the Ten Thousand 151 
 
 of musing. He peered about with the air of one who 
 half -recognises a locality. At last Zaid and Ali abruptly 
 spurred ahead to the top of a hill-track, reined up against 
 the sky, and stared eagerly down the opposite slope. 
 Miksi galloped after, took a look, and, standing in his 
 stirrups with the mien of an ancient Seer in a Robinson 
 Crusoe hat and peg-top trousers, broke into denunciation. 
 
 " Kupak ogli ! " he vociferated, shaking his crop at 
 the Kurds, who gave him one grin and went back to 
 their staring. " Sons of dogs ! Burnt fathered ones '* 
 
 He proceeded to declare that our escort were no 
 sons of our kindly host, Ischaryar Beg, but change- 
 lings born of Iblis's self and a lady ghoul in a lonely 
 graveyard, the sleepers in the which all died of par- 
 ticularly unmentionable diseases. I spurred up, looked 
 in turn, and let him proceed. It is refreshing at times 
 to have somebody handy to say what you would like 
 to say yourself. The good man's language fitted the 
 occasion ; he concluded with a pious hope that Allah 
 would give Ali and Zaid the full quorum of spouses 
 permitted by their religion, and that every one of the 
 ladies would be of reputation to bring the blush of shame 
 to the cheek of a Shiraz Mouti. He used his native 
 tongue, then paused for breath and interpreted to 
 Evelyn : 
 
 " Ya, Evelyn Khatoun, I was saying these are very 
 bad-naughty boy-lads. I hope-trust they will be taken 
 across their father's knee-lap and whipped-licked 
 soundly. They have taken us out of the way in order 
 to see the fight-shindy." 
 
 It was true ; they had brought us in a circuitous way 
 to the hills lining the east side of the road between 
 Kharlis and Bitfa, and we had emerged at a point 
 where we could see Kharlis, less than a mile away in 
 panorama over an opposite hill-foot. 
 
 Its single cupola and quartet of minarets glistened in
 
 152 
 
 the winter sunshine ; over the squares of snow marking 
 the roofs and the dark lines of narrow streets clustered 
 round, all within the quadrangle boundary of the town 
 wall. We could just see the Mission on its isolated 
 eminence at the west end beyond the walls. 
 
 But the Kurds the Gadarwand ? Into a gap be- 
 tween two of the hills backing the city a column was 
 flowing, a narrow column straining up the slope from the 
 Mission. A screen of shrubs concealed us; we could 
 observe unobserved. A black dot coming from the 
 town revealed itself into a Kurd in a hurry before 
 vanishing from sight somewhere beneath and to left 
 cf our station. 
 
 " Allahu Akhbar ! " cried Zaid, with impudence past 
 answering. " He hath deigned to make us go astray 
 and behold Kharlis ! " 
 
 " It seemeth to my foolishness that the beginning of 
 the Bitfa road is where yon Gadarwand vanished," said 
 All. " I will see." 
 
 He flung the rein to his brother and slipped on foot 
 through the bushes. Within five minutes he was back. 
 " Give Allah the glory ! " he whispered. " He brought 
 us of His Wisdom. The kupak ogli who call themselves 
 Gadarwand have received notice of our father's riding. 
 Those who were set before the town go to intercept him, 
 and the messenger was sent to warn the keepers of the 
 road to go take their place until they return. Our 
 grandmother's warning was good, they will not return ; 
 as our father will be prepared. Ya Allah 'r Hashed ! 
 Come, Khanoums, we know of a by-track by which we 
 may meet our father before the battle ! " 
 
 " Ya'llah ! " cried Zaid, pointing. 
 
 Muffled thunder rose to our ears. Craning, we could 
 see, hidden ourselves by the bushes, to the entry of the 
 Bitfa road, and from it streamed forth two or three 
 score Kurds. With brandished guns and streaming
 
 On the Track of the Ten Thousand 153 
 
 loungs, rhythmic-thudding hoofs, and chiming harness, 
 they galloped citywards. AH and Zaid squirmed 
 feverishly. 
 
 " We are for Bitfa, and the road is now open," I 
 announced. 
 
 " Khanoum, we must go warn our father ! " 
 
 " Then go alone ! " I retorted, out of patience. " We 
 can do without your guidance ! " 
 
 " Not so, Khanoum. We promised the Khanoum 
 Effen' to escort ye. Come with us, then will we go to 
 Bitfa." 
 
 I scrawled on the outside of my note of thanks : " To 
 Aminah Khanoum. For this escort we give thanks, 
 but dismiss them, as we feel safer without them. Rathia 
 Jerningham." " That will whiten your face with your 
 grandmother, Zaid and Ali," I said, handing it over. 
 
 Zaid clutched it, mumbling thanks, and, without 
 waiting for gifts, both cried a hasty Salam and fled up 
 a by-way. I could not find fault with them ; all the 
 distaff side of me cries out to the joy of a well-fought 
 fray, too. 
 
 Bitfa is at a much lower level than Kharlis. The road 
 descended, and as it did so the snow tailed into slush, 
 and that into pure thin mud farther on ; the sun retired 
 behind clouds and the crisp, high-altitude air changed 
 to a raw mist through which we forged dismally into 
 the deep valley that leads to Bitfa. 
 
 This was really a gorge cutting along between rocky 
 wails which towered up on either hand into the fog, 
 sometimes meeting overhead, an eerie, grey place ; 
 oddly silent, but for the click of our horse-hoofs, and 
 made more weird by pines and fantastically twisted 
 detached rocks louring through the murk like mis- 
 shapen genii. The road was passable, however; we 
 gave the horses their heads and indulged in a loping 
 rush through the thinning mist, rocks and pines and
 
 154 On the Track of the Ten Thousand 
 
 road-stones swinging into view out of the greyness 
 ahead and gliding out of sight abreast of us, and the 
 air singing gaily past our ears. 
 
 " This is better fun than Liver Brigade in the Row ! " 
 chuckled Evelyn. 
 
 We were out of the valley and the fog, in a road 
 bordered by knobbed oak and dusky briars, before we 
 slackened pace, and we did it then only because we were 
 riding unexpectedly on the roofs of a cluster of half 
 subterranean hovels which the Armenian owners dig- 
 nified with the name of a Village. 
 
 The poor creatures tumbled up out of their dwellings, 
 rabbit-way, and scuttled for the woods at first sight of 
 us, but I threw Lack my pagri and spoke reassuring 
 words, and they came back and said Bitfa was only 
 half a mile farther on. 
 
 And added a solemn warning against our venturing 
 into the town. It is, in fact, one of the most fanatical 
 places in fanatical Kurdistan, basing its claims to 
 eminence on the possession of a Shiah saint's tomb and 
 an attached Medreseh full of Softas noted for their 
 rooted objection to followers of any other religion. 
 Few native Christians live in it, only one European, 
 and no Jews. Our informants added more deterring 
 facts, that Halet Bey, the Mutessariff, who was rather 
 kind to Christians than otherwise, was absent, and that 
 
 Miss of the Kharlis Mission had been stoned in 
 
 the open Bazaar there not a week before. 
 
 This was serious. I regretted letting the young Kurds 
 go. They would have been efficient protection; as it 
 was, I did not wish to expose Evelyn to possible moles- 
 tation and certain insult. Yet Papa might be waiting 
 in the town. I called for a volunteer to bring news, and 
 none appeared. These country Christians thought 
 themselves well out of the place while the good Mutes- 
 sariff was away
 
 On the Trade of the Ten Thousand 155 
 
 "Our papers will command respect," Evelyn suggested. 
 
 I felt for them doubtfully. I carried them in the 
 breast pocket of my jacket. It was empty. 
 
 The jacket was belted. I felt down it and found 
 nothing. The bulky packet could not have slipped 
 through the belt. 
 
 My heart sank with a horrible dread. Was this the 
 Khanoum Effen's doing ; this refinement of vengeance 
 leaving two girls without the protection of official 
 orders and support under the worse than helpless 
 charge of a native Christian in a fanatic Moslem land ?
 
 Chapter XII 
 
 THE VIRTUOUS CITY OF BITFA 
 
 THE others took my discovery in unhelpful ways : 
 Evelyn with the sang, froid of ignorance, Miksi Gauriel 
 with the abject terror of knowledge. In vain the 
 pockets and bags of the entire party were emptied out 
 on the bench in front of the Rayis's hut, the all-in-all 
 documents had gone. We had not exhibited them at 
 the Diz, but the hand that manipulated successfully 
 the combination lock of my bag had doubtless gone 
 through our pockets too. Rage past all articulation 
 against the Khanoum Effen' rose in my mind ; there 
 was no time to indulge it, however, nor to puzzle out 
 the problem of why she had placed the archaeological 
 treasures in my bag. Only the parallel of Joseph and 
 Benjamin would come to me and then Joseph loved 
 Benjamin and did not owe him a grudge. 
 
 " Papa may be in Bitfa," I said. " Suppose, Miksi, 
 we go and ask at the gate ? " 
 
 4 ' If he came it would be by the south gate, Khatoun ; 
 no good ask-inquiring at this north one." 
 
 " We will ride round the town, then, and ask at the 
 south one." 
 
 " I dare not without our passports, Khatoun. We 
 will be taken to the jail for suspicious-bad people. 
 Turkish jail, Khatoun ! " 
 
 " We will be taken before the proper officials." 
 
 " The Rayis here tells me the Mutessariff has left the 
 
 156
 
 The Virtuous City of Bitfa 157 
 
 Chief of Police in charge, and the Chief of Police is 
 bigoted and cruel. It is my advice we go on to Kochma ; 
 good-virtuous Kaimakam there." 
 
 " I do not fancy going on to Kochma when Papa 
 may be here." 
 
 But Miksi was firm, and refused to enter Bitfa unpro- 
 tected. " I presume it is not possible to procure the 
 garb of a Moslema here, my sister ? " I hinted to the 
 wife of the Ray is. 
 
 She admitted that she sometimes paid visits to the 
 town in the excellent disguise of a Moslem woman. 
 We retired into the hovel, and, after some bargaining and 
 dressing, with Evelyn for amused audience, I emerged 
 transformed. A coarse blue and white checked sebleh, 
 or sleeved cloak of ample dimensions, covered all save my 
 face from crown to ankles ; where my boots were re- 
 placed by a clumsy, high-heeled pair of much-stained 
 yellow leather, and a black horsehair veil allowed 
 nothing but my eyes to be seen. Miksi did not know 
 me until I spoke. 
 
 " Now listen, Miksi," I said. " I am going into the 
 town to ascertain if my father is there. If he is he will, 
 of course, come to escort us in. If not, we must go on 
 
 to Kochma. Wait here " 
 
 ' Wait ? " said Evelyn. 
 
 " I will be an hour or two, perhaps. Meantime you 
 will both wait here. By their account the good folk 
 of the village are rarely troubled by Moslem visitors. 
 Miksi, you will guard my sister " 
 
 "By the Wealth of God and the House of Mar 
 Shimoun ! " 
 
 " Very good. O Rayis," to the headman, " ye will 
 conceal the three horses. You, Evelyn, will stay con- 
 cealed in the hut until I return." 
 
 ; ' Your course-plan is the only possible-safe one, 
 Khatoun," Miksi agreed.
 
 158 The Virtuous City of Bitfa 
 
 " Indeed it is ; the horses are tired with the detour, 
 they must rest, you are safe here, and I might as well 
 try and save us a possibly useless journey to Kochma." 
 
 Evelyn was dying to protest, but refrained and let 
 me settle her in the hut which was hurriedly vacated 
 for her. It was not a bad specimen, as Armenian huts 
 go, I made her comfortable on a pile of rugs, advised 
 her to take a rest, and, after a final hug from her and 
 a renewed vow by the great Chaldaean formula from 
 Miksi that he would not leave the doorway until my 
 return, set out on my mission. ., 
 
 The village was hidden in a secluded turning; once 
 the high-road was reached I dismissed the boy who 
 acted as guide. The way was plain ; soon a twist re- 
 vealed Bitfa a few furlongs off : a ragged collection of 
 houses struggling up and down the broken base of a 
 hill. The sky was now overcast, the city, down in 
 the lower ground, looked like a jumble of neglected 
 tombs lightened by a jagged streak of river and the 
 tarnished gilt dome of the Jami-Musjid. 
 
 I tottered down a slope and through the north gate, 
 slouching after the manner of a respectable town 
 Moslemah out of doors. It is not considered really 
 nice for a Turkish townswoman to walk as though she 
 possessed a spine or a single tendon Achillis. The 
 gate was only occupied by a posse of beggars, a few 
 down-at-heels Nizam on guard, and a pack of pariahs 
 regaling themselves at the spot outside the arch where 
 dead animals were buried overground. 
 
 It does me good to see a pariah enjoying a feed in the 
 spot outside all Eastern city gates. When sanitation 
 reaches the Orient what will the poor brutes do for a 
 living ? 
 
 The streets inside were fairly populous, but lacking 
 the varied types of a larger town. Bitfa is a back- 
 water place ; the populace seemed to consist of a small
 
 The Virtuous City of Bitfa 159 
 
 proportion of decent merchants and workers, a larger 
 one of street-loafers, roughs of a type only to be found 
 to perfection in Islamite towns with a claim to sanctity, 
 a sprinkling of sleek Softas, some grubby dervishes, 
 and a few Kurdish petty chieftains and their body- 
 guards ; shaven-chinned lordlings, moustached, blue- 
 eyed, and looking, with their hawks on wrist and close 
 caps, like mediaeval knights. No Christians were about, 
 and few women. 
 
 Unable to glean any news of arrivals from the south 
 at the north gate I asked my way to the Mutessariff's 
 house. As I reached the gate of it a Muezzin from the 
 highest minaret of the Jami-Musjid sounded the first 
 note of the Azan for Salutu '1 Asr. Immediately the 
 bell-notes were blending together from the other fanes : 
 
 "Allahu Akhbar ! . . . Illahu '1 ilia 'il lalm " 
 
 All around me fell flat, Mecca-wards ; even the 
 warriors on guard clanked down. Bitfa is an unco' 
 guid place. Discreetly I waited until the call was 
 over, then proceeded quietly. I had unexpected luck 
 with a woman who was leaving the Mutessariff's abode. 
 She could inform me for certain that praise Allah ! 
 a Kafir Agha named Home Jerningham had not defiled 
 our town by entering it. Her brother had just come 
 off duty at the south gate, hence her knowledge. To 
 avert suspicion I said my brother was of the kafir j s 
 escort, then started north again. It must be Kochma 
 that day. 
 
 The sole Bitfa European is an old Gascon who collects 
 the excrescences known as loupes for a Paris firm. These 
 loupes are found on the dwarf oaks, and nowhere else, 
 and, come peace, come war, come Berlin Treaty Reforms, 
 and come consequent massacres, our Gascon lives in 
 the Troubled Land, and supplies his employers with 
 the invaluable knobs to be sliced up thinly for expen- 
 sive inlaying. I knew Jhe old gentleman by repute
 
 160 The Virtuous City of Bitja 
 
 good repute and marked his house in the main square 
 by token of the scowls bestowed on it by passing 
 Softas. 
 
 It was a jail-like building ; in a dreary courtyard girt 
 with a high wall, the whole set a little up a slope and 
 the wall-gate to be reached from the roadway by a 
 steep stone stair. The villagers had told me the Gascon 
 was absent, loupe collecting, or I would have sponged 
 on him for escort for us all. I had nearly reached the 
 house, stepping gingerly round the many praying 
 figures, when, the service concluded, a stream of wor- 
 shippers began to flow out of the Jami-Musjid porch 
 into the square, the prayers on the pavement started 
 to get up, and a great noise rent the quiet. 
 
 The cause came into the square from a side-street, 
 a mixed mob hotly pursuing a small lad half dressed 
 in rags, to the tune of the Turkish for " Stop, thief ! " 
 That part of the square was congested with loafers 
 ripe for any kind of brutal row. They spread out to trap 
 the quarry ; but the child slipped between two of them, 
 and, after a wild glare round, made straight for me, 
 why, Heaven knows, tripped full length, shuffled along 
 on his knees, and clung frantically to my skirt, clutching 
 the while the sheet of bread he was holding 
 
 " Khanoum ! Ya, Khanoum ! For Allah 'r Rahman 
 for the God of Mercy's sake 1 " he wailed. I lifted 
 him up. He was Armenian; ten or so by his height, 
 but light enough, poor child, for six. The crowd massed 
 opposite us. "Peace to you, my brethren 1 " I intoned. 
 " I am from afar ; tell me in mine ears : is it Bitfa 
 fashion that a hundred grown men chase a child for 
 diversion ? " 
 
 A fat man with a floury face stood forth. " To 
 you be peace likewise, O my sister ! " he replied. 
 " That is a thief, and his thieving is in his hand ; I 
 am a baker Inshallah "
 
 The Virtuous City of Bitfa 161 
 
 " I was so hungry, Khanoum ! " the boy cried. " It 
 is hard to hunger with bread in reach " 
 
 " Y' Allah ! Shall a good Moslem be robbed of his 
 stock and pinched by the Fingers of Penury because, 
 forsooth, an Armenian hath an empty belly ? " the 
 fat baker demanded. 
 
 " One sheet of bread stolen will not ruin thee, Baker 
 Effendi ! " I replied. " Here, likewise, is more than 
 the price, and do ye all let the lad be." 
 
 He caught, doubtfully, the silver com I threw. A mur- 
 mur rose behind him. 
 
 " O Baker Effendi, wilt thou for a beshlik condone 
 that an Isauwi rob a Moslem ? " a chorus ran. ** Matches 
 in thy beard ! Thy face is blacked ! Thou hast burnt 
 thy father and thy mother ! Let us take the thief 
 before the Kadi. Is it not loss of a hand for him ? " 
 
 The baker flung down the beshlik and stretched a 
 hand towards my protege. I twisted a corner of my 
 veil round the little fellow's shoulders. " It is not 
 loss of a hand for a stealer of bread, and a child at that ! " 
 I retorted. It was perfectly good Shara law, too. 
 
 The baker drew back. In Moslem lands it is both im- 
 proper and a criminal act to touch the veil of a strange 
 woman. The crowd raised a yell. " Tear off her veil, 
 O baker ! " shouted one. "It is no wrong to unveil 
 
 He used a plain term. " I am a decent woman," I 
 retorted. 
 
 " A decent Moslemah does not argue with strange 
 men ! " he shouted back. 
 
 u Well spoken ! " howled the chorus. A voice 
 added : 
 
 " She is an Armenian in disguise ! Strip her I " 
 
 Still holding the boy and facing the enemy, I retreated 
 until my shoulders touched masonry. " I am no 
 Armenian," I declared. 
 6
 
 162 The Virtuous City of Bitfa 
 
 " Swear to it 1 " was chorused. A silence waited 
 my reply. 
 
 " I am no Armenian. I swear it as Allah is Allah ! " 
 
 " Thou art a Moslemah ? Swear to it ! " 
 
 " I am a Moslemah, as truly as Muhammad is the 
 Prophet of Allah ! " . 
 
 The ambiguity of the asseveration did not escape their 
 oriental sharpness, and brought a fresh howl : " Strip 
 her ! She lieth ! She hath laughed at our beards ! " 
 
 " But she may be a Moslemah ! " hesitated a semi- 
 chorus. 
 
 Quietly I continued to hold the corner of the veil 
 over the boy, knowing that the strip of haircloth was 
 more protection to us both than the revolver I fingered 
 behind it. 
 
 " Why do we not fling a few stones at the thief ? " de- 
 manded a nimble -witted oaf, " as to the woman, no need 
 to lay hand on her veil, but if she will not retire after 
 fair warning and chance to be stoned likewise, we will 
 afterwards please Allah ! know all we will about her." 
 
 A shower of cobbles rapped around us. 
 
 Simultaneously a grinding noise sounded up the wall 
 above. My elbow was seized in a masterful grip, and, 
 before I could realise what was happening, we were 
 run up the stair and stood in the court of the Gascon's 
 house, while the Yourouk porter and a tall European 
 slammed and locked the gate. A fusillade of stones 
 clanked against it, succeeded by a tremendous hooting. 
 
 The European turned. " Thou art safe, by the grace 
 of Allah, my sister," he said. 
 
 For full half a minute I did not answer. I could not. 
 The voice which spoke thus, in appalling Turkish, was 
 a high-pitched occidental voice, was known to me, 
 and the speaker's features were familiar too. 
 
 My rescuer was the supercilious American of the Rue 
 de Pera.
 
 Chapter XIII 
 
 THE CHRISTENING OF MISS HAROUN AL-RASCHID 
 
 RECOVERING myself, " Let me go forth ! " I screamed 
 in a disguising falsetto. " It is not meet a Moslemah 
 enter a Kafir's house ! " 
 
 " It is not meet that a Kafir man leave a Moslemah 
 to the mercy of a mob,'? the American returned, with 
 exasperating calm. 
 
 There is antipathy at first sight, as well as love. I 
 had felt it for him at our first meeting ; at this second, 
 it was intensified by the aggravating fact that I owed 
 my life to him. " Let me go, O foolish Kafir, son of a 
 long line of foolish Kafirun and the father of foolish 
 Kafirun yet to be ! " I squealed ungratefully. 
 
 The noise was redoubling. Through the metal grille 
 of the gate stones hurtled, the stout woodwork below 
 quivered and thundered under blows accompanied by 
 contradictory demands for the surrender of the shame- 
 less Moslemah who had entered a Kafir's house and for 
 the death of the Kafir who had seized a Moslemah 
 against her will. The porter scratched his eyebrow in 
 perplexity, the American eyed the gate grimly. "In 
 a little while they will leave, and thou canst depart," 
 he said to me, civilly enough. 
 
 I sat down on a bench making no reply. The boy 
 huddled on the pavement at my feet and began to eat 
 the stolen bread. From the house a band of servants 
 trooped, led by a greybeard steward. 
 
 163
 
 164 The Christening of Miss Haroun Al-Raschid 
 
 " Effendi," the steward began, as spokesman, " the 
 woman hath spoken words of truth. It is well she 
 should be straightway turned out. Else will we, the 
 Effendi's servants, together with your Highness, the 
 Effendi's guest, be in danger." 
 
 " In your Effendi's absence I am master here," the 
 American snapped. " Back to your tasks." 
 
 They hesitated, a gaudily dressed Syrian stepped 
 forward. " Effendi, as your tergiman, it is my duty to 
 instruct you in the ways of the country," he began. 
 " This is a Shiah town ; it is most necessary that the 
 woman be turned out at once, even if she be of ill 
 fame " 
 
 " I am master here, Sergius," the American retorted. 
 " No, not a word more ; begone all ! " 
 
 The servitors melted into the house again, whispering. 
 "Allah is with the Effendi from Yenghi Dunia ! " I 
 heard. 
 
 In his turn the American went in. The boy fell 
 asleep, still holding my skirt. No doubt about it, I 
 had got myself into an unpleasant pickle. The worst 
 was Evelyn at the village. I would wait a little while, 
 then, if the mob had not dispersed, at worst I could 
 declare myself for a European. It would probably mean 
 police detention for the three of us, but we could sur- 
 vive it. 
 
 The noise went on without. The American came to 
 the gate often, the porter was the image of fear personi- 
 fied. A thin rain began to fall. The noise subsided 
 abruptly. 
 
 " Ya Effendi, there came a Mollah and spoke to the 
 people; now some have gone away with him, but the 
 most part wait quietly," the porter announced. 
 
 An hour passed. The porter went indoors, the boy 
 woke and began to cry over a cut in his arm, inflicted 
 during our recent lapidation. It had set in the cold ; I
 
 The Christening of Miss Haroun Al-Raschid 165 
 
 bandaged it. The American came for a look at the 
 gate ; he paused, watching, until I had done. " A neat 
 piece of work, Madam," he said, in English, as I tied 
 the last knot. 
 
 He eyed me provokingly. " No use denying it, 
 Madame or is it * Miss,' or * Mademoiselle,' or * Fraii- 
 lein ' ? Your hands give you away. Likewise, the 
 lace-edged handkerchief with which you have bound 
 that cut in correct hospital style." 
 
 I could have cried with rage at my own foolishness, 
 "What if I am European?" I asked, discarding 
 further pretence. 
 
 " It may simplify matters. Perhaps. May I ask 
 what you propose to do ? " 
 
 " If I cannot get out quietly in a little while, I will 
 demand the presence of the Chief of Police and confess 
 I am European." 
 
 , " You want to slip away quietly for preference ? 
 It's natural, but, my dear Madame, you forget I am 
 a humble factor in the situation. All the servants ran 
 away soon after your arrival ; only a few minutes ago 
 I was in bare time to slam and bolt the back gate behind 
 the porter. You probably forget that if you slip away 
 you will leave me with the reputation of having enter- 
 tained a Moslemah." 
 
 " I'll show myself to the people at once," I said, 
 rising. 
 
 " Too late," he replied. " You should have done it 
 directly you came ; now you'll probably be stoned. We 
 must wait." 
 
 " It appears to me that if I choose to expose myself 
 to the risk of stoning it is my own affair," I retorted. 
 Further speech was cut short by authoritative blows on 
 the gate. 
 
 The new-comer was a severe, white-turbaned Mollah,, 
 round him were a score of big, hangdog-faced Softas,
 
 166 The Christening of Miss Haroun Al-Easchid 
 
 behind the mighty crowd that had assembled by the 
 time, and now began the old calls : *' Down with the 
 Kafir ! " " Death to the shameless Moslemah I " 
 
 The Kafir conversed with the Mollah through the trap 
 of the gate, the Moslemah peeped over his shoulder. In 
 reply to the holy man's exhortation the Kafir said : 
 
 " The woman is here for refuge from the men of 
 Bitfa, the men of your teaching, O Mollah, who be 
 spawn of Eblis and would have put her to death with- 
 out cause." 
 
 " Thou liest, Kafir ! " answered His Reverence. 
 " The woman hath been in thy house many hours. 
 Come forth, the twain of ye, and be judged.*' 
 
 " The woman breaks no law by her presence here," 
 my not-too-willing cavalier replied shortly. " Thou 
 sayest we must come forth, yet thou knowest we will 
 be torn piecemeal or ever our feet cross the threshold. 
 Not that we refuse to be judged ; let the Chief of Police 
 send an escort, and we will come to the judgment-seat. 
 I have spoken. As Salamu alai-koum." 
 
 He slammed the trap. The reverend elder shuffled 
 off, again stones clanked against the gate. " I will 
 show myself before the Mollah has gone," I exclaimed, 
 stepping to the gate and laying a hand on the bolt. 
 
 " You'll be stoned ! " cried the American. 'I paid 
 no heed to his words, but fumbled with the rusty bolt. 
 He caught the loose ends of my veil and twisted them 
 together behind my back, pinioning my arms while 
 he thrust the half -drawn bolt back again. Wild with 
 rage, I struggled while he poured remonstrances into my 
 ear. His grip would not relax ; with an effort that made 
 my ears sing and my eyes swim I burst the hem of the 
 stout horsehair, and freed my arms for another dash 
 at the gate. Thereupon he seized me round the waist. 
 
 I gave up the contest, moved by sight of my little 
 Armenian, his pinched features transformed by a grin
 
 The Christening of Miss Haroun Al-Raschid 167 
 
 of unutterable delight at the sight of a lady and Effendi 
 of dignified Frankistan indulging in a bout of catch-as- 
 catch-can. 
 
 " That's better," said the American, provokingly 
 good-humoured now that the contest was over. " You 
 were perilously near the brink of the undignified. 
 You'll wait now until the local Bow Street and Vestry 
 come in state, eh ? Then I vote we go in out of the 
 wet. You'll notice the crowd has grown quieter ; they'll 
 wait, too." 
 
 He led me into a room on the ground-floor, signing to 
 the boy to remain in the passage. From the windows 
 we could see the gate. The apartment was a man's 
 room, all pipes and papers, tobacco-jars and sticks, 
 the carpet rather less dirty than the chair-seats. On 
 the walls were a dingy print of Taglioni, Ellsler, Cerito, 
 and some other lady whose name was illegible from age 
 and smoke, in the Pas de Quatre, and a Levantine 
 Almanac which gave the birthdays of Christian saints 
 and Moslem divines with large-minded impartiality. 
 I settled myself in the chair which appeared to rejoice 
 in the fewest number of muddy boot-marks. The 
 American seemed undecided. " Won't you rest a 
 bit ? " I inquired. 
 
 He took a chair opposite to me. I looked round, 
 counted the cobwebs in the nearest corner, and wished 
 I could turn one of my Mosul servants into the room 
 with a broom. The boy sat by the doorpost, meekly 
 enacting gooseberry. I transferred my gaze to the 
 Almanac and memorised some useful facts relating to 
 Pir Dastagir, Francis of Assisi, Jelal 'd Din 'r Roumi, 
 and Thomas a Becket. Then I looked at the American 
 in due rotation. He was too self-possessed for my 
 irritated feelings ; I tried the infallible plan of looking 
 dreamily at his boots. He had them under his chair, 
 and spoke hurriedly.
 
 163 The Christening of Miss Haroun Al-Raschid 
 
 " It is excessively hard for a man in full possession 
 of his faculties to have to sit and wait for the Police 
 to come for a spunky lady, without being able to help 
 her," he said dismally. 
 
 " A woman trapesing about a Moslem town in dis- 
 guise deserves all she gets," I replied judicially. " I 
 am not groaning at my fate." 
 
 *' I am," he retorted unexpectedly. 
 
 " Well, in a way it is your fault," I said viciously. 
 " You brought me in. You might know better than to 
 interfere in a Moslem street row " 
 
 *' I stand rebuked. In future I will remember to 
 stand with my hands in my pockets while a woman 
 is being murdered outside my gate. I speak Turkish 
 in the picked-up-in-two-lessons style, and my know- 
 ledge of Eastern ways may be gauged from that. You, 
 judging by your Turkish, might have been born in the 
 purple at Yildiz Kiosk; you set me a good example of 
 non-interference, didn't you ? " 
 
 I coloured in the friendly shade of the veil, and, at a 
 loss for words for once, turned my attention to the 
 Almanac and impressed on my mind that we were 
 living in Anno Hejira 13 and Anno Domini 189- 
 simultaneously. " It would be, perhaps, more con- 
 venient if we knew how to address one another," my 
 companion resumed, " I am Harvey N. Wilbur, and 
 hail from Charlescott, South Carolina." 
 
 " United States of America ? " I said inquiringly. 
 
 He looked a little put out. " Why, yes," he conceded. 
 ** I am a graduate of the University of South Carolina, 
 and am travelling to collect stock for the University 
 Museum. I meant to start for Diabekr to-morrow 
 morning, but have doubts if I can manage, as .my 
 servants have bolted. And I have the pleasure of 
 addressing ? " 
 
 " One feels so silly at introducing oneself," I pleaded.
 
 The Christening of Miss Haroun Al-Raschid 169 
 
 " My name will be shouted ever all Bitfa when the 
 officials come. I have a fancy to keep it to myself until 
 then." 
 
 " As you please. One thing is certain : I knew you 
 were English directly I spotted that you were Euro- 
 pean." 
 
 " Only an Englishwoman would be capable of in- 
 dulging in such an escapade ? " I returned, curling 
 myself more comfortably in the folds of my sebleh. 
 " It happens I am only half-English. I am what is 
 commonly known as Eurasian. That's why I ventured 
 on this disguise. I know the ways of my kin on the 
 distaff side." 
 
 " Oh," he was much astonished. " It appears that 
 the English part of you forgets them at times, when 
 its sympathy's roused. So your mother was a Turk ? " 
 
 " An Abbasside," I returned sharply. " One of the 
 family of the feudal lords of Amadiyeh." 
 
 " Amadiyeh ? I've heard the hereditary Pashas of 
 the place were descended from the Prophet's family by 
 way of the Abbasside Khalifs." 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 " Then I have the pleasure of entertaining a lady of 
 slightly sacrosanct lineage ? A sort of demi-semi- 
 goddess in fact ? " He began to laugh. He had a nice 
 laugh, and I had to echo it. " Now I come to think 
 of it, that darling of our youth, Haroun Al-Raschid, was 
 an Abbasside. With your kind permission, I'll call you 
 * Miss Haroun Al-Raschid.' " 
 
 " It's properly ' 'r Rashed,' " I snubbed. 
 
 " Ah. And perhaps it may be properly * Mrs.' 
 Eh?" 
 
 " Who knows ? " I replied. At that moment the 
 crowd began to shout again. Whipping my veil closer, 
 I led the way to the gate, and, encouraged by the cessa- 
 tion of stoning, opened the trap. 
 6*
 
 170 The Christening of Miss Haroun Al-Rasckid 
 
 The rain had stopped, dusk was coming, faintly lit 
 by the last rays of the dying sun. The square was 
 crammed, but popular attention was diverted from us, 
 for the while, to a spot across the sea of heads where 
 mounted figures were slowly forging their way through 
 a mobile lane made by the soldiers who preceded them, 
 beating the populace aside with sheathed swords. The 
 group, came near enough for recognition : an old Mollah 
 in Haj green and white, several other gentlemen of the 
 pen and pulpit all mounted on mules, and a Turk of 
 about five-and-thirty, clad in semi-military way, with 
 a tail to his fez down to the back of his neck and a great 
 deal of gold lace splashed over his suit. He was lifted 
 high on a Cappadocian roan and surrounded by a ring 
 of zaptieh. 
 
 " Halet Bey ! " exclaimed Harvey Wilbur. " We are 
 in luck, Miss Haroun ; the Mutessariff is back unex- 
 pectedly." 
 
 "S'lam alai-koum, Wilbur Effen'," the Bey called 
 as the zaptiehs beat a clear ring round the steps for the 
 principals. 
 
 The American returned the greeting, and flung the 
 gate open. The Bey and the clergy trooped in, the 
 soldiers made a close ring round the foot of the steps. 
 The people waited quietly now, seeing us trapped and 
 arraigned in full view with the Governor in judgment 
 on us. 
 
 The Mutessariff was good-looking in a prematurely 
 portly way, as is the Turkish fashion. His moustache 
 was spiky, his eyes sharp, his ears stood out considerably. 
 At me he cast a worried look, not unfriendly on the 
 whole, as he addressed Mr. Wilbur. 
 
 " Wilbur Effen', I have heard a strange tale," he 
 began. 
 
 " That I have admitted into the house of my friend 
 a woman whom some of the men of the city would
 
 The Christening of Miss Haroun Al-Easchid 171 
 
 have slain without cause ? " the American replied 
 quietly. 
 
 " That a Moslemah hath spent several hours in the 
 house with thee," the Bey corrected. " In strictness 
 the case cometh within the judging of my excellent and 
 revered friend, the Kadi." 
 
 He indicated the elder in the green and white. Mr. 
 Wilbur gave the worthy a polite bow. " I deny the 
 accusation," he said. 
 
 " With the woman beside thee ! " the Kadi exclaimed. 
 " Allah is with thee, Kafir. It is known that for many 
 hours she has been alone with thee." 
 
 " Not for many hours, Qatbu'd'din. Only for the 
 short time she hath been compelled to remain lest the 
 people should do her a mischief," Mr. Wilbur corrected. 
 " And not alone ; this lad here hath been with us all 
 the time. He will tell you of her coming." 
 
 " The length of time and the presence of the lad are, 
 please Allah, of no importance to the matter," the Kadi 
 replied. " The one important fact is, thou hast black- 
 ened thy face by harbouring this Moslemah " 
 
 *' I am no Moslemah," I interrupted.
 
 Chapter XIV 
 
 UNCOVENANTED SUCCOUR 
 
 THE announcement took the assembly like a bombshell. 
 " Not a Moslemah ? " the Kadi cried. 
 
 From the listening crowd a ,hoot burst. " What a 
 cold-faced lie ! " a self -ordained fugleman bawled from 
 the bottom of the steps. 
 
 I stepped under the gateway and faced them. " I am 
 a Feringhi woman, and there is no wrong in my presence 
 here ! " I cried. 
 
 " We do not believe thee, daughter of a long line of 
 liars ! " was returned. Another speaker yelled : " Show 
 thine accursed Feringhi face ! " A stone caught me in 
 the chest. The Bey stepped in front of me. 
 
 " Beat the people, my children ! " he called to the 
 soldiers. " And, O my people, I am Mutessariff here." 
 
 " Now, Moslemah or Feringhi, explain thy presence 
 here in the ears of all," he added loudly, turning to me. 
 
 There was an expectant hush. A scribe produced 
 paper and pen to take down all I said in evidence against 
 me. "The rights of my seeking refuge in this house 
 you can learn from the lad who accompanied me," I 
 began. " Ask him and learn I am not lying." 
 
 ** We w r ill hear the boy," decreed the Mutessariff. 
 But a shock awaited me ; the Armenian, coyly averse 
 to mixing with Moslem law, had decamped in the con- 
 fusion. 
 
 172
 
 Uncovenanted Succour 173 
 
 *' The lad was here when we came," the Kadi said. 
 ** That the woman saved him from righteous punishment 
 is true and proven ; it may be he hath fled to escape 
 bearing evidence against her. Now of the matter of 
 her identity, O Bey Effen'." 
 
 " Yes, verily, let us hear of thy name and business 
 here, my sister," said the Bey. " Then, please Allah, 
 thou shalt unveil before the people that they disperse 
 in peace." 
 
 I hesitated. The official looked slightly embarrassed, 
 the clergy fixed wolfish eyes on me. " But, Bey Effen', 
 is it necessary the lady unveil and pronounce her name 
 in public ? " the American protested. " Your in- 
 telligence will perceive, Effen' even a Feringhi lady 
 hath her good name to keep fair." 
 
 " Then why doth she risk it by coming here in this 
 disguise ? " the Bey asked reasonably. " It is to my 
 sorrow, but she must tell of her identity aloud before 
 the Mollahs, and unveil, and swiftly, too, as the people 
 wax impatient." 
 
 " Pray let all be done as the Mutessariff desires, Mr. 
 Wilbur," I interposed. " You make it worse by acting 
 as though we had something to conceal. O Bey Effen', 
 and ye, reverend sirs " here I raised my voice boldly 
 " I am called Miss Jerningham, daughter of one Sir 
 Home Jerningham, and a subject of the Sultana Victoria 
 of England." 
 
 " Sir Home ? " the American observed sotto voce. 
 " By Jove ! " 
 
 " And of my business here, I have been travelling 
 from Vastan to Kochma, expecting to meet my father 
 either at that town or else here. I came by way of 
 Mouschat, and, before entering this town, I found my 
 necessary papers, my passport and my burguvuldu from 
 the Vali of Van, were a-missing. And the rest of my 
 party, being all Christians, feared to enter the town ; but
 
 174 Uncovenanted Succour 
 
 I dreaded that we might miss my father in case he had 
 reached here " 
 
 And I gave a correct account of what had passed 
 from the village onwards. The Mutessariff stroked his 
 moustache uneasily. ** Thy tale is fairly reasonable," 
 he said ; " nevertheless, it is a pity thy papers are lost. 
 I must put thee in ward, and bring the rest of thy party 
 from the village thou hast mentioned to keep thee com- 
 pany until I can communicate with thy father and my 
 superior the Vali of B ." 
 
 " I would like nothing better, Bey Effen'," I replied, 
 thinking it best to put a cheerful face on it. *' Of good 
 and respectful treatment by thy subordinates I am 
 certain, and I trust thou wilt send at once to Kochma 
 to communicate with my father." 
 
 ** Lady, it is the will of our most gracious Lord the 
 Padishah that Feringhis be well treated in his domains." 
 
 ** I thank thee, Bey Effen'. Also in private I will tell 
 thee more fully of the party that accompanies me." 
 
 " I thank thee, Khanoum, for putting no obstacles in 
 the way of law. It chances the small company of 
 soldiers without proceed to Kochma so soon as Allah 
 permitteth us to soothe the people here, and the Yozbashi 
 shall take my word to thy father. Now it but remains 
 to prove to the people that thou art truly a Feringhi." 
 
 " it cannot be avoided ? " I hinted. 
 
 " To my regret, no. So far we have but thy state- 
 ment. I will be reported to the most gracious Padishah 
 as one who condoneth the breaking of law of fslam 
 otherwise. Pray thee unveil now." 
 
 I nodded assent. With a courteous gesture the 
 Mutessariff bowed me to the gate. The Kadi followed, 
 between them I stood at the head of the stairs, full in 
 the light of torches and Persian lanterns held by some 
 of the soldiers. 
 
 It was full dusk now, with a few stars hi the dirty-
 
 Uncovenanted Succour 175 
 
 green sky. The steps were crowded with sowars, half 
 carrying lights and half cocked rifles, a line of mounted 
 Nizam two deep ringed the foot, ready to charge, if 
 required, on the mob which hemmed them in and filled 
 the square, fading out of sight by the Musjid. My view 
 of the men of Bitfa is still a dark-tinted mass spangled 
 with greyish faces ; it hummed with angry murmurs, 
 and at my appearance set up the most horrible noise 
 the earth affords. I mean the dreadful snarling laugh, 
 in unison, which only a Moslem crowd can raise, and 
 that only to perfection when a woman is the butt. The 
 Mutessariff raised a hand and silence ensued. 
 
 " Men of Bitfa, is this the woman concerning whom 
 the uproar is made ? " he demanded. 
 
 " Let us hear her voice ! " demanded the fat baker 
 from the front rank. 
 
 ** Am I the woman, Baker Effendi ? " I asked. 
 
 " Thou art the woman. We know thee by thy voice 
 of Serafil and thy nature of Lilith the Shameless," he 
 replied, and a hundred voices howled assent. 
 
 " And ye think I am a Moslemah ? " 
 
 " Verily." 
 
 I flung back cloak and veil. I could not see the 
 American, but a small, emotional yelp that sounded 
 behind me as I stepped forward was unmistakably his 
 tribute of surprise. " Verily ? " I mocked. 
 
 " Subhan'llah," gulped a semi-chorus. ** Allahu Akh- 
 bar ! " gasped the rest. Silence rippled down. 
 
 " It is true, the woman is a shameless Feringhi, child 
 of a long line of noseless mothers," the baker said at last. 
 
 " Ghison Sefid ! " bawled a smart Persian footboy. 
 All who could see the joke guffawed. It was pointed at 
 my hair. " White Curl," is the translation, a cant 
 name given to any hard-up old woman who does any 
 sort of go-between business as the only way to keep 
 body and soul together.
 
 176 Uncovenanted Succour 
 
 ** I am a Feringhi, one of the People of the Book, a 
 follower of Nebbi 'Isa '1 Masiyeh, and a subject of 
 Sultana Victoria of Frankistan," I retorted, in a carrying 
 voice. " And, ye men of Bitfa, I came hither in Mosle- 
 mah garb knowing ye be sons of dogs and not good 
 Muslims. Doth not An Nabi enjoin in the Perspicacious 
 Book that all his followers shall show kindness to the 
 neighbour who is a Moslem, and he who is not, and to 
 children of the road ? " 
 
 " Surah 4, Ayah 40," murmured the Kadi, from habit. 
 
 *' A subject of Sultana Victoria, my children ! " cried 
 the Mutessariff . " Run ye home with haste In- 
 shallah 1 ye have offered the lady some insult ; a little 
 more, and the Sultana will complain to our lord the 
 Padishah which Allah forbid, for our sakes who have 
 offended ! " 
 
 " We are satisfied, Ya Bey Effen', our father ! " cried 
 a chorus. The baker announced, further : " Without 
 doubt the woman is a pig-eating Kafir. She hath set 
 us men of Bitfa by the ears ; but we be satisfied. We do 
 not wish to raise the ire of Sultana Victoria, and it is 
 enough that the Feringhi Khanoum will by Allah's 
 grace burn in Laza hereafter, big Feringhi eyes and 
 red Feringhi hair and all, together with her noseless 
 female ancestors." 
 
 " It is so 1 " echoed around, and a number of fancy 
 biographies of my mother and aunts were bawled from 
 different spots. 
 
 " The Khanoum is Jerningham Khanoum, a great 
 and a kindly Hakim, the daughter of Sir Home Jerning- 
 ham Pasha, a great Pasha of Frankistan, and a vir- 
 tuous and stainless maiden to boot ! " 
 
 Thus a big voice in parade-ground tone as the officer 
 in charge of the soldiers turned and marched up the 
 steps. His back had been to me before. " O Veil 
 Yozbashi 1 " I cried.
 
 Uncovenanted Succour 177 
 
 It was the good officer of Mouschat. " 'Salam 
 alei-koum Jerningham Khanoum," he returned. 
 
 "So thou knowest the Feringhi lady ? " the Mutes- 
 sariff asked, with palpable relief. 
 
 " Excellency, I do. Indeed, I know so much of her 
 in a way that please Allah ! I can hazard that her 
 present difficulties are caused by the loss of her neces- 
 sary travelling papers, the which she left by inadvertence 
 and forgetfulness on part of us both, after I had examined 
 them at Mouschat 1 " 
 
 And he gravely handed over a packet which I recog- 
 nised, and at once passed over to the Mutessariff. Leav- 
 ing the crowd to its disappointment, we went within and 
 while the Mutessariff and the Kadi scanned the papers, 
 the Yozbashi eagerly inquired of our adventures since 
 we left the Onbashi. Over the subject of the said 
 Onbashi he gave me a sly look and chuckled under his 
 breath. " Your young sister wasted my gift," he 
 said. " What of her ? is she well after your journeying ? " 
 
 So I told him our route, and where Evelyn and 
 Miksi were, and he was helpful. He had just arrived 
 in the town, and was to proceed with his men to 
 Kochma on the Mutessariff' s business ; as soon as the 
 trouble I had caused was done with, I could go with the 
 party and we would pick up the other two en route. 
 
 But a difficulty cropped up. I could not possibly 
 leave the house until the crowd had quite dispersed. 
 The Mutessariff was quite satisfied with my credentials, 
 so he professed, but he dare not anger the people by 
 forcibly clearing them toff, and feared that I would suffer 
 maltreatment, for all his efforts, if I were seen. After 
 due deliberation we found a compromise. The Yozbashi 
 and his men would leave at once and make a detour to 
 join Evelyn. I would give him a note enjoining her 
 to go on with him. For myself, I refused the Mutes- 
 sariff's offer of a night's hospitality in his harem and
 
 178 Uncovenanted Succour 
 
 accepted the alternative of two elderly and trusted 
 zaptiehs as guard to Kochma as soon as it was practic- 
 able. 
 
 I then scribbled a note, and the good Yozbashi 
 departed, leaving me to the officials. The Kadi went 
 home also, carefully refraining from taking any notice 
 of me as he bade all the others adieu ; next the Mutessariff 
 advanced to me. 
 
 " I will now bid you a temporary farewell, Miss 
 Jerningham," he said in good English. "I must 
 repair to my abode to transact necessary business, in 
 a little while I will return, when the people are in less 
 number and please Allah more tractable temper, 
 and will escort you to the town gate. In the mean- 
 while I will leave a strong guard at the house-gate, and 
 will pray your grace to accept some trifling gift of 
 refreshments which my House will be anxious to send 
 to you." 
 
 I thanked him. " I will accompany you, Bey Effendi, 
 to see that your secretary gets my travelling papers 
 into proper order against my leaving the town in the 
 early morning," Harvey Wilbur put in. He had, with 
 commendable delicacy, retired into the background since 
 my unveiling. 
 
 " It may not be, Wilbur Effendi. You likewise will 
 be in danger from the people. You must stay here 
 until it is safe for you to start on your journey. The 
 papers shall be sent." 
 
 " My presence will be offensive to the lady," Mr. 
 Wilbur replied. 
 
 " Effendi, I must consider your safety. The respected 
 Miss Jerningham will understand the necessity of your 
 presence here, and on your part I cannot see that it 
 is any hardship for you to endure her company." 
 
 It was the American who blushed furiously at the 
 official's well-meant compliment. " I would sooner be
 
 Uncovenanted Succour 179 
 
 torn to pieces than stay here," he said. " My blood is 
 on my own head, Bey Effendi." 
 
 The Bey shrugged despairing shoulders. I overlooked 
 the offered hand of the American. He bowed silently. 
 All the same I watched until I saw he was safe at the 
 other side of the square. He was safe, the mob's rage 
 being naturally hottest for the woman in the case.
 
 Chapter XV 
 
 WITH THE REMNANT OF THE CHALDEES 
 
 BY Salatu '1 Isha I was en route for Kochma. Besides 
 a most excellent dinner, the Mutessariff 's House anglicc, 
 his wife had sent me a litter wherein to get out of the 
 city. That journey had been accomplished sans acci- 
 dent, with the Mutessariff and several zaptiehs on guard 
 discreetly in the rear, and at the south gate we found 
 Izzedin, the same soldier who had tried to escort us 
 from Mouschat, waiting with Arjamand. The dear little 
 mare broke tether to rub her nose against my face. 
 I rolled up my Moslemah garb, bade farewell to the 
 courteous official, and began the ten-mile ride. 
 
 The road ran, deserted and dreary, through a dismal 
 prospect of rocky plain and half-frozen rivulets bounded 
 by mist-topped hills and dusk mountains, the whole 
 bathed in a last, ugly, unwholesome-looking purple after- 
 glow. Once in the saddle, I realised I was tired; it 
 was all I could do to stick on the mare's back. Izzedin 
 rode beside me, the two policemen behind. 
 
 I believe in Fate. Five miles from Bitfa, and from 
 anywhere else worth calling Anywhere, the horse of 
 one of the zaptiehs went over, thanks to a hole in the 
 road. Izzedin got it up uninjured, but the rider lay 
 in the mud until we raised him, and I found his head 
 was badly hurt. I brought him round, but he was 
 incapable of riding, and evidently needed skilled atten- 
 tion. We could not take him with us ; the road from 
 
 180
 
 With the Remnant of the Chaldees 181 
 
 Bitfa so far had been one of the best in Turkey, but 
 a little farther on exceptionally bad tracks began. 
 Izzedin had a most important despatch to take on to 
 Kochma, and did not like to go back ; neither did L 
 In the end the other zaptieh mounted the strongest 
 horse and took his comrade in front for return, and I 
 went on with the soldier. The spare horse Izzedin led, 
 as the man encumbered with the injured one could not 
 manage it. 
 
 ** Please Allah, we will reach Kochma in an hour and 
 a half," said Izzedin. I echoed, " Inshallah ! " But it 
 was not to be. Within the half-hour, as we were taking 
 a short cut along a real Kurdish road, a narrow shelf 
 on the face of perpendicular rocks with a reedy brook 
 tumbling along a hundred feet below, I let Arjamand 
 stumble and the result was a nasty spill. 
 
 " O Allah, Allah, Khanoum, you should have con- 
 sulted an astrologer before you went journeying this 
 month ! " exclaimed Izzedin, as he pulled the little 
 mare off me. " Hath Allah pleased to let you be hurt ? " 
 
 " No bones broken, my son," I replied, clinging to the 
 rock, for I was much shaken and my left knee hurt 
 oddly. *' But behold the poor hajin's knees ! " 
 
 They were cut nastily. " She cannot reach Kochma 
 before morning," the soldier said in despair. " Y' Allah, 
 somebody has cast the Evil Eye on your journeying, 
 Effendina. We will transfer your one-sided saddle 
 to the other horse ; but what of the mare ? " 
 
 He reflected, then remembered that about half a mile 
 off the track was a Chaldsean village, named Sliwa 
 Klissia, where we could leave our injured for the night 
 I found we would have to include me in the casualty 
 list ; I could scarcely mount, and had to cling to the 
 horse's mane and the saddle. ** I must stay at this 
 village, too," I decided. 
 
 We arranged it as we forged on. For sake of his
 
 182 With the Remnant of the Chaldees 
 
 despatch, and to allay Papa's anxiety Izzedin must go 
 on. I would come to no harm by myself in a Christian 
 place ; native Christians would stand in awe of any one 
 under Government favour, and Kurds dare not harm a 
 European. Izzedin wished to advise Papa to send an 
 expedition directly he arrived with the news. I nega- 
 tived it. With his injured leg the poor man would 
 need a night's rest. As we came to that conclusion we 
 started to cross a wicker bridge, a fearful thing to 
 negotiate with the starlight rippling dismally on the 
 black water several yards below. ' Y' Allah, what is 
 that, Effen' ? " the soldier asked suddenly as we 
 reached the farther side. 
 
 He indicated a white moving blot on the stream. 
 The bank sloping at that side, I sent him down, and he 
 drew the floating thing to shore, where it lay in the 
 ooze, the nude body of a woman of about my own age. 
 
 " Nothing for me to do here, Izzedin," I pronounced, 
 after an examination. 
 
 " From the Percussion of the Grave and from the 
 Questioning of the Grave may Allah deliver her ! " the 
 warrior replied piously. " That is, unless she was a 
 Christian," he added. 
 
 I thought, from general indications, that she was a 
 Chaldsean. " And, on my faith, I cannot understand 
 this, Izzedin, my son," I added. " There is no mark of 
 violence, yet this poor creature was not drowned ; she 
 must have died before she was placed in the stream." 
 
 In Kurdistan one grew hardened to finding bodies 
 by the roadside, even in pre-massacre days, and to 
 understand the technical signs of different ways of 
 dying. " Kim belar, Effen' ? " Izzedin made reply 
 casually. " Allah is Great and All-seeing." 
 
 He seemed to think that explained all. I laid the 
 poor soul's drenched auburn tresses straight over her 
 shoulders, we wrapped her in my sebleh, hid her under
 
 With the Remnant of the Chaldees 183 
 
 some bushes, and went on. The road now ascended; 
 in bitter cold we reached Sliwa Klissia. It was a large 
 village, the huts straggled about the foot of a hill, 
 mostly half hollowed in the slope. On a kind of pro- 
 montory, whose base was washed at one side by a 
 wide, foaming rivulet and half-encircled at the other 
 by the churchyard, stood the church. 
 
 To welcome us there turned out a dozen starved curs, 
 two men, and an elderly woman. You could tell that 
 we had crossed the border between Armenian and 
 Chaldaean districts by the woman's lack of the abomin- 
 able Armenian veiling, an article which suggests chronic 
 neuralgia or a desire to hide leper-marks. These three 
 were the Rayis, his wife, and his son. " The Khanoum 
 is very welcome," the Rayis said. But he looked a 
 little wry. 
 
 " By thy salt, Christian, I look to it that thou see 
 that thy miserable Christian villagers treat the exalted 
 Effen' as she were the Amiru '1 Muamin's self. She is 
 of his acquaintance and his honouring, and if ill befall 
 her Allah, I will be almost sorry at the doing of 
 what will be done to thee and all of thy wretched 
 Christian folio whig." 
 
 Thus Izzedin, with a Bobadil air which would have 
 set me laughing but for its terrifying effect on the 
 natives. The Rayis cringed. "Ya, Bimbashi, your 
 words are law. We will guard the exalted lady well 
 by the Head of Mar Shimoun ! A body by the bridge, 
 you say ? Alas, bodies are plentiful as round stones ! " 
 
 Izzedin saluted me and rode away. My hosts con- 
 ducted me to the main room of their house. It was 
 half-subterranean and bare as a barn, though the blank- 
 ness was a little hidden by the billows of smoke rolling 
 from the fire in the middle of the floor. It was a place 
 that kept you coughing all the time. I sat on my doubled- 
 up coat, found my entertainers had seen two English-
 
 184 With the Remnant of the Chaldees 
 
 men once and knew what Europeans were like, and so 
 got their confidence. It was a dreary story they had 
 to tell: the village had been raided again and again 
 by the Walwand Kurds from over the hills, and the 
 marauders had not only taken the winter's supply of 
 food and raided the cattle, but had amused themselves 
 by making a bonfire of all the villagers' farming imple- 
 ments. They begged me to bear the tale when I could 
 to that one hope (at the date) of the Christian in Kurdis- 
 tan, the British Consul at Van, and informed me that 
 the rest of the villagers had not yet returned from 
 their daily gathering of acorns, which were being col- 
 lected to grind into meal and keep off starvation during 
 the coming cold weather. She further offered me acorn 
 cakes, all the provision the place boasted, and said that 
 several children had already died for lack of proper 
 food. 
 
 " And there's worse coming, mayhap ! " sighed her 
 husband. " We are in the ill-grace of Nimroud of the 
 House of Mar Shimoun." 
 
 You must understand that they had become very 
 confidential by that time, and told me openly, in whis- 
 pers, what was only known with certainty some years 
 afterwards. Nimroud, brother of Mar Shimoun, aimed 
 at becoming Catholicos, and had begun to run a pretty 
 course of intrigue, underhand currying of favour with 
 the Turks, and general despicable treachery all round. 
 He was inducing the Chaldsean Bishops and priests to 
 take his side as far as he could, and plotting to get 
 those who remained loyal to the rightful hereditary 
 head, temporal and spiritual, of the Eastern Christians, 
 into trouble vith the Moslem authorities. Kasha 
 Sergius of Sliwa Klissia had stuck to the true Catholicos, 
 and lived with his flock in daily fear of the rebel in- 
 dulging in some mean trick to get them into trouble. 
 
 " Listen to the tale of Dizbekir, Effen'," the Rayis
 
 With the Remnant of the Chaldees 185 
 
 said. " The Turks have an idea that all the Christians 
 in Kurdistan are arming in secret for a general rising. 
 You know what was at Erzeroum ? " 
 
 I nodded. At that time, before the doings at Bitlis, 
 Van, and Orfa, people thought the slaughter of Ar- 
 menians that followed the search for arms in Erzeroum 
 Cathedral worth calling a massacre. 
 
 ** Well, Effen', Dizbekir is a village not far from here. 
 Of late the Turks have taken to stopping Christian 
 funerals to search the very coffins for arms, and at 
 Dizbekir they found a handful of cartridges in that of 
 a man going to his burial. And for that they slew all 
 the folk of Dizbekir, and the Kurds with them " 
 
 She told me plainly what the Kurds did on the altar 
 at the harried village. " And men say the cartridges 
 were dropped into the coffin by one of Nimroud's agents, 
 and that he further gave the Moslems a hint about 
 searching, because the Kasha of Dizbekir was for Mar 
 Shimoun whom God preserve ! " the son supple- 
 mented gloomily. " Indeed, between Nimroud and the 
 Kurds, how are we to live ? Ten years ago we could 
 have done honour to a guest from far-off Frankistan ; 
 now the coming of one fills us with apprehension." 
 
 " So my presence is unwelcome ? " I asked in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " 'Stafar'llah ! I meant not that " 
 
 " Lie not from politeness," I returned. ** I am thy 
 fellow-Christian; tell me plainly, my brother." 
 
 " The presence of the Khanoum is exceedingly wel- 
 come," his father took on him to explain ; " but after 
 she is gone on look you, the Kurds will hear of her 
 coming, and will come to us seeking a pretext for ill- 
 usage. ' Ye be bad folk and spawn of Iblis,' they 
 will say. ' Ye say ye have nothing left to give us, yet 
 ye entertained a great Feringhi Khanoum for the 
 night.' Indeed, Effen', their raids have not left us so
 
 186 With the Remnant of the Chaldees 
 
 much as a bench to sit on ; but when we tell them so 
 they will retort : ' Ye burn your fathers with lies ! 
 Feringhi folk require things of the cleanest and best ; 
 tell us, then, where be your store of fine white flour 
 and the goodly rugs on the which she slept ? ' And 
 when we can give them nothing they will beat, and, 
 mayhap, kill us." 
 
 This, I knew, was probably truth. I did not see how 
 I could go on, yet could scarcely expose the whole 
 village to maltreatment and insult for my sake. " I 
 will rest and warm myself a while, my father, then thy 
 son shall guide me on to Kochma," I said. 
 
 ** God forbid you should think such a thought of 
 us ! " the woman protested in horror, " To turn out a 
 guest ! This is what you might do to secure our safety 
 at expense of a few minutes' walk. There is a secret 
 place a little up the hillside where we keep a few sheep 
 and one horse yet safe ; my son shall take your mare 
 there and stay with it, and you shall accompany him 
 as far as the nearest trees, so that if spies are about we 
 can swear we saw you on the road to Kochma with 
 him. But in the tree shade do you slip on your big 
 hooded cloak and return, and I will let you into the 
 church. It is a poor place, but no worse or barer than 
 this house ; and, as evening prayers have been said, 
 you will have it to yourself for the night." 
 
 " And in the morning ? " 
 
 " The morning prayers will be said very early, after 
 then you can slip out ; disguised in a cloak I will 
 bring you, and go to the wood, where my son will 
 meet you with the mare. So you can come back with 
 a tale of having lost the way and hiding in a cave 
 there be many near all night." 
 
 " And by that time my father will be here. Good. 
 Will ye initiate the rest of the village into the secret ? " 
 
 " Three be enough to keep a secret, Effen'. We will
 
 With the Remnant of the Chaldees 187 
 
 tell the Kasha after, but to the others and the Kurds 
 it will be you found no entertainment fit for you, and 
 so insisted on pushing on." 
 
 " The Kasha is out acorn-gathering ? " 
 
 ** Nay, with a few men he hath gone to fetch the 
 body of my sister, who hath died at a distant village, 
 home for burial. They went in the morning, and will 
 return in the night, perhaps, for fear of leaving us too 
 long lacking so many men. It may be they will bring 
 the body into the church while you are there, but you 
 will not fear ? " 
 
 I reassured her on that score, and consented to the 
 plan with one amended detail. In my pig-headedness 
 I would think myself capable of getting to Kochma 
 by moonlight alone on the strength of a description of 
 the way. It would be like my usual way, I told them. 
 I would say I dispensed with a guide from a knowledge 
 of the protection a native Christian was likely to be. 
 Of course I did not try the thankless and embarrassing 
 task of pointing out that the son, Ishu, was stalwart, 
 comely, and just twenty-three ; and not the person I 
 would like to be connected with in a night's ttte-ti-ite 
 adventures. 
 
 Presently, having kissed Arjamand "Good night" 
 on her silky muzzle, I was stumbling over the graves 
 in the delusive moonlight. A flight of steps cut in the 
 rock led to the holy edifice. A high outer wall encircled 
 a small courtyard in which services were conducted 
 in hot weather; at the end of the enclosure, on the 
 edge of the promontory and overhanging the stream, 
 was the church. The headman's wife awaited me. I 
 stumbled wearily up the stair after her and through the 
 wall-gateway, which, like the entrance to the church 
 itself, was only about a yard square, a characteristic 
 feature of Christian churches in Kurdistan, the motive 
 of it being to compel all to bow their heads on entering
 
 188 With the Remnant of the Chaldees 
 
 the House of God and to checkmate the playful Turko- 
 Kurdish habit of stabling animals in the sacred edifice. 
 The Rayis met us in the chilly court and conducted us 
 into the cold darkness of the church, where he borrowed 
 my matches and lit a screwed wax taper. 
 
 By its feeble glimmer the edifice stood revealed, a 
 barn-like oblong some twenty-five feet wide by thirty 
 long, the latter measurement including the mud dais 
 on which stood the rough altar with its Manchester 
 cotton cover and discoloured silver candlesticks, flank- 
 ing a tattered but magnificently illuminated old copy 
 of the Gospels. Mud pillars supported the roof, and 
 two dumpy arches led into small annexed rooms, one, 
 filled in with a door, into the sacristy, where the 
 priest made and baked the Communion wafers ; the 
 other, an open one, into the combined vestry and bap- 
 tistery, a cubby-hole about seven feet square, cut down 
 the middle nearly from wall to wall by a narrow, high, 
 stone font. 
 
 We all kissed the little wooden cross on the altar. 
 *' And ye do not deem it wrong I stay here, my 
 father ? " I asked. 
 
 " The wrong would be for a Christian wayfarer to 
 go unsheltered while God's house possesses a roof, 
 Effen'," he replied, and indeed the building had a roof 
 that was better kept than anything else about it. 
 Chaldsean churches have to be re-consecrated if a drop 
 of rain gets in. He went round with the taper. " Be- 
 hold, there is nobody here saving ourselves. The place 
 is the Khanoum's ; only please to remember not to 
 enter the sacristy." 
 
 " I will ; I have no wish to become a Christian nun, 
 It is in these hard days better to be a Feringhi lady." 
 
 The etiquette is that nobody but the priest may go 
 into the sacristy, and for a woman to enter it is equiva- 
 lent to taking the veil My two hearers agreed with my
 
 With the Remnant of the Chaldees 189 
 
 dictum, and, after kissing the cross and my hand, de- 
 parted. The door clanged to and I was alone. 
 
 It was eerie, the taper only furnishing a glimmer for 
 a little way in the darkness ; the place seemed a mile 
 square, and the two cruciform slits in the wall over the 
 river which served for ventilation let in an abominable 
 draught wherever one moved to escape it. The ro- 
 mance of the situation was lost on me ; I wished Evelyn 
 had been with me. She would have enjoyed it, and 
 would have been antidote to the uncomfortable feeling 
 of awe you cannot help experiencing when alone in the 
 dark in a place where prayers have been felt and uttered 
 by dead and gone and living hundreds. I looked over 
 the illuminations, said my prayers at the altar-foot, 
 and took the light in hand to find the best resting-place. 
 
 I pitched on the space between the font and the back 
 wall. The small baptistery felt less uncannily sacred 
 than the bigger main building, also I would be hidden 
 from the morning congregation there, and in case of 
 nocturnal alarm could sit up and command the whole 
 place with my revolver. I put out the light, and, 
 although it was bitterly cold and it is not very com- 
 fortable to lie on a hard stone floor with only your arm 
 for pillow, I was so tired that I had scarcely squeezed 
 myself, wrapped in the sheepskin coat, in the narrow 
 space, than I was sound asleep.
 
 Chapter XVI 
 
 LYING IN STATE 
 
 A NOISE of trampling feet and subdued voices, accom- 
 panied by the opening of the church door and the 
 admission of a bitter draught, aroused me. Next 
 moment I had my revolver cocked, and was sitting up 
 in the chill darkness. 
 
 These were no sneaking marauders, they made too 
 much racket. Could they be Kurds come to desecrate 
 the church ? By sound of their footsteps half a dozen 
 had come in, two with tapers followed, and by the faint 
 glimmer that danced amidst the dark figures I could 
 see that each in turn bent over the cross on the altar. 
 They were Christians. My repeater beat three times 
 when I tried it, and that made the puzzle : it was too 
 early for morning prayers. 
 
 The solution came apace. A tall man, wearing the 
 white alb and dark stole of a priest, entered, and after 
 him something was pushed and hauled through the 
 doorway. It was Kasha Sergius and his followers 
 bringing home the coffin. My acquaintance, Ishu, was 
 now assisting in the alb, with big coloured crosses on it, 
 of a deacon. The probability was he had not yet had 
 a chance to inform the priest of my presence. I lay 
 down again. 
 
 The coffin was placed on the floor of the nave, and 
 two women came in to watch it. When the others 
 were turning to leave the noise of a great outcry from 
 
 190
 
 Lying in State 191 
 
 the village drifted through the doorway, and a man 
 bawled from the outer stair : 
 
 " Kasha, our father 1 Here's Turk soldiers come, 
 and saying they must search the place for arms ! " 
 
 The voice ceased, the speaker, from auricular evi- 
 dence, was thrust aside, and another figure stepped in 
 with a clicking of boot-heels. Several candles were 
 now alight, and I made out the new arrival for a Colonel 
 of Nizam. He was a dapper little man of sixty or so ; 
 after him came a tall man in European costume. I 
 quite expected it this time. Harvey Wilbur again. 
 
 Making a gesture of respect towards the coffin, the 
 officer spoke courteously. " Kasha Sergius of this 
 village, Sliwa Klissia ? Peace be with thee, and with 
 all dutiful subjects of our lord the Padishah ! I have 
 orders to search for arms, and have brought with me 
 fifty soldiers for the purpose. I request that thou wilt 
 bid thy flock to help and not hinder." 
 
 " Bimbashi Effen', it is not every Osmanli who wastes 
 civility on a Christian," answered the Kasha, bowing. 
 
 " Ye be people of the book," the officer replied. " I 
 have 110 quarrel with ye, only if we light on hidden arms 
 by the glory of Allah, I arn the least of the Padishah's 
 servants ! " 
 
 14 We are at your command, Effen', having nothing 
 to conceal." 
 
 " Chok yakshi. If it be so, the face of thy village 
 will be whitened before all Kurdistan. And to it will 
 bear witness this most distinguished Effen' from the 
 land of Yenghi Dunia. Wilbur Effen', this is the 
 Kasha." 
 
 The Kasha cringed. Mr. Wilbur bowed stiffly. I 
 should have come forward at that point, but I did not. 
 It was a foolish thing to do, but people waked in the 
 small hours after a tiring day are not apt to be in pos- 
 session of the best of their wits. My one idea for the
 
 192 Lying in State 
 
 time was a stunning, overpowering objection to making 
 a second dramatic claim, within twelve hours, on the 
 American's protection. I would rather have died on 
 the spot. Anyhow, since the Kasha did not yet know 
 of my whereabouts, those in the secret having probably 
 forgotten me for the moment in the new excitement, 
 I would wait a while and send some one to tell the 
 Bimbashi alone of my presence. 
 
 " Shamasha Ishu, and thou, Shamasha Ovanes, do ye 
 bear the sister and the niece of the dead company. The 
 rest of ye, my children, come with me," the priest 
 ordered. 
 
 " Two women and two men to watch. It is well." 
 The Bimbashi went round the place with a taper ; I 
 shrank behind the font, and escaped his eye, though 
 he looked round keenly. This was well enough ; I would 
 simply tell Ishu and the others to hold their tongues 
 and all would be settled. ** Four in the church," he 
 repeated. " I will, please Allah, set a sentry that none 
 may pass in or out unobserved." 
 
 " I pray you, Effen', let your man mount guard in the 
 court. You perceive there is but one door," the priest 
 begged meekly. 
 
 " Pek ala. A man in the court can watch both church 
 door and wall door," the officer answered. Then he 
 went out with all but the four watchers, and the door 
 slammed to. 
 
 The four left consisted of Deacon Ishu, his father, 
 the Ray is, also in deacon's array, his mother, and a 
 young girl. " The Turks are fools, by the Wealth of 
 God and the House of Mar Shimoun ! " said the elder 
 Deacon explosively. " If we had arms, would we let 
 ourselves be thus robbed by the Kurds, I pray ? " 
 
 " It is a plot for an excuse to fall on us ! " answered 
 Ishu ; and the girl put in : 
 
 " It will fail, for the Effen' from Yenghi Duma will
 
 Lying in State 193 
 
 bear witness that we be innocent. My mother, in their 
 haste the men did not take trouble to place the coffin 
 in the proper place. Shall we not, I pray, move it 
 before the altar ? " 
 
 " Well said," replied Ishu, and the men lifted the 
 coffin and carried it a few feet forward. 
 
 As they did so a short, sharp tap sounded from it. 
 
 The others did not hear it. I gave them a moment, 
 then stepped out of concealment. 
 
 The girl cried out. " Be silent," Ishu exhorted. 
 '* This is but the Khanoum ; no ghost nor spy, but 
 a wayfarer put here by my father and mother. By the 
 Head of Mar Shimoun, Khanoum, and Allah my wit- 
 ness, we had clean forgotten thee in the excitement of 
 the coffin's coming and the Turks' coming. And my 
 father and my mother, how are we to explain her 
 presence to the Turks " 
 
 " We will speak of myself in a breath, my friends," I 
 said. " I heard a sound from the coffin. Let us open 
 it straightway ; we have heard of folk who were as the 
 dead while still alive." 
 
 " A sound from the coffin ? You mistake, Khan- 
 oum " 
 
 " Not so. I have dog's ears. To work now, if the 
 woman is alive every moment counts." 
 
 I proceeded to attack the nails with my knife. 
 Orientals obey Europeans by instinct in a crisis. The 
 men had left their daggers in the porch, as is customary ; 
 Ishu took the knife, and in a minute the flimsy lid was 
 off, revealing neat folds of coarse linen. I leant over 
 and felt for my medicine- case, while the woman turned 
 down the upper folds and revealed no corpse or live 
 woman, but, padded in neatly, several Sniders, two 
 old-fashioned matchlocks, five revolvers, and rolls of 
 cartridges stuffed between. 
 
 The elder man raised his hands in a gesture of despair. 
 7
 
 194 Lying in State 
 
 " Be our witness, Khanoum, this is none of our doing ! " 
 he cried. " Some enemy hath done this, that the Turks 
 may fall upon us by the Wealth of God I understand 
 it now ! While the carrying party passed through the 
 village Mishlu the men thereof would have them rest, 
 placing the coffin in their church the while. Mishlu is 
 for Nimroud it is explained ! " 
 
 " And the body my sister's body ! " wailed the 
 woman. 
 
 " Alas, my aunt ! " the girl wailed. 
 
 " If thy sister was red-haired, they flung the body 
 into the river, and ye know where to find it," I replied. 
 " Meanwhile we must think of the living, not the dead ! " 
 
 " The yet living ! " groaned Ishu. " We will all be 
 dead soon," supplemented his father. 
 
 " Soon is not Now. Also, Allah is not an Albanian." 
 I administered the Asiatic Turkish for " Things might 
 be worse," as I sat on a corner of the coffin and ex- 
 amined the guns. " If we got rid of the arms " 
 
 " Efien', the soldier guards the door." 
 
 " Even so," I nodded. " The windows ? But a 
 child could not creep through them. You, my brothers, 
 might conceal them under your albs, and convey them 
 out but the guard will grow suspicious if ye pass in 
 and out too often. We might push them through the 
 
 windows into the river ' 
 
 ' The splashes, Effen' ! " 
 
 " Yes. It will not do. Besides, we must consider 
 the questions of the emptied coffin and my presence." 
 
 " We might fill it with stones from the pavement ? " 
 Ishu hazarded. 
 
 " Listen to Khoja Nasreddin of Konia ! " I named 
 the Turkish Handy Andy. " My presence should have 
 been revealed at once ; now I will be suspected of 
 Allah knows what." 
 
 " Shall we call the Bimbashi, show the guns and the
 
 Lying in State 195 
 
 Khanoum, and speak full truth concerning all ? " the 
 Ray is suggested. 
 
 " He will see ye were driven to it," I returned. " What 
 is necessary is that I disappear, and that the coffin holds 
 a body." 
 
 " Does the Effen' mean that we should slay one of 
 the women here present for the body ? " The Rayis 
 asked it seriously. " Truly, it would be a great sin, 
 and the sentinel would notice if one of them were 
 a-missing." 
 
 Ishu had nothing to suggest, nor had his mother. As 
 to the girl, she was practically stunned by the danger 
 and the wonder of my appearing. 
 
 " The proverb that it takes two Jews to cheat one 
 Chaldasan was not made concerning ye men of Sliwa 
 Klissia," I returned. " If any must be slain why, 
 obviously it should be myself. Now, will ye obey me ? 
 And, tell me, is not aught better than submission ? " 
 
 They fixed eager eyes on me, and nodded to both 
 questions. " All Feringhis are mad," I quoted again. 
 " But, even as Omar's whip was more to be feared than 
 another's sword, so is the madness of a Feringhi of more 
 avail than the wisdom of Turk or Nestorian." 
 
 The test was effectual. I had impressed them to such 
 a degree that they took no heed of the abhorred de- 
 nomination. I bade them then keep w5tch and ward 
 while I made a few preparations in the baptistery, lest 
 the sentry should look in and find them in suspicious 
 attitudes. So they kept watch, and their shadows 
 danced on the wall with the shivering of their fear 
 
 I am not sure that I did not give the impression that 
 my retirement was for silent prayer ; in reality it was 
 to adjust my costume. I reduced it to my skirt and 
 jacket in the main, and it was nasty work walking 
 barefoot on the stone floor. 
 
 The four gasped wh,en I reappeared, but I froze them
 
 196 Lying in State 
 
 into silence with a glance, and bade the girl station 
 herself near the door to give a possible alarm, while the 
 others tore up linen into strips and knotted these to- 
 gether. Meanwhile I wrapped up the guns, several 
 in the sheepskin coat, two in my pagri, and so forth. 
 Then I dragged the coffin under the windows, mounted 
 it, and contrived to get my head through the cross-slit. 
 
 The look of things outside was satisfactory. It was 
 the dark hour before dawn, and the river at the wall 
 base was roaring in autumn flood. I hitched a linen 
 cord to the bundle in the fur, thrust it out, and lowered 
 it to the full length of its tether before letting go. It 
 made no perceptible splash and the wrappings kept the 
 metal from clattering against the wall. We sent the 
 other bundles after. My helpers muttered prayers of 
 gratitude and kissed my feet. 
 
 " But there is the coffin yet," desponded the woman, 
 who was named Marta. " What, also, can we say of 
 the Effen's presence ? And she will freeze." 
 
 The others groaned. " I will not freeze when you 
 have wrapped the shroud round me," I replied. " And 
 I could not be crammed into the coffin with all my 
 clothes on." 
 
 " What was the wisdom of Asaf and of Suleiman to 
 that of the Effen' ? -" cried Ovanes. " To act the 
 corpse " 
 
 " Until the search is done and the real body can be 
 smuggled in from the river," I supplemented. " Hand 
 up those, I pray." 
 
 I referred to my boots. We had stuffed them with 
 revolvers and cartridges ; once they were out the church 
 was well rid of contraband arms and European clothing, 
 only to fill the coffin remained. 
 
 The girl was set on guard, the men drilled holes in the 
 coffin-lid, Marta let down my hair and plaited and 
 looped it in the local fashion, while I made up my face
 
 Lying in State 197 
 
 to a judicious pallor with the aid of a pocket mirror 
 and a papier poudre book. 
 
 Then Marta laid me out tidily. She smiled- over it 
 a little ; the humour of it struck her. The men grinned. 
 The Chaldsean is a bellicose race ; under similar con- 
 ditions Armenians would have been limp with dread. 
 They strapped me in the shroud, and, as it was a little 
 scant for my size, they left my hands and feet out. 
 Fortunately, I go pale blue with cold ; Marta touched 
 up the exposed ends of my person with what was left 
 of the papers before throwing them out of the window, 
 and all decided I would pass muster by candle-light. 
 We relied on it that the Turks would not let any one else 
 in while they examined the church, if it did come to an 
 examination. The coffin was a tight fit, but with the 
 lid on I could still breathe comfortably ; the nails were 
 pushed into their sockets, and I was in the dark but for 
 a few lines of brightness where the planks joined 
 badly. 
 
 We had scarcely done when the door creaked open, 
 My chinks of light wavered as the candles flickered in 
 the draught, the far-off voice of the sentry observed that, 
 please Allah, people might go into the church if they 
 chose, his orders were to search all coming out. One 
 person stepped in and the door slammed. 
 
 " We will prepare for morning service, my chil- 
 dren " began the voice of the Kasha. 
 
 Ovanes responded in a fierce whisper. For several 
 minutes whispering went on. " A plot of Nimroud's ? " 
 repeated the priest at the end. " The Khanoum who 
 passed the village in the coffin ? " 
 
 More rapid explanations pattered out. The priest 
 was a man of nerve and quickness. *' Is all well with 
 thee, Khanoum ? " he asked. 
 
 " Very well, Kasha Effen'," I replied sharply as his 
 inquiry drifted through the cracks. " Go on with the
 
 198 Lying in State 
 
 service preparations; there is no time for talk, and 
 remember the sentry." 
 
 " Khanoum, we owe you eternal gratitude, we and all 
 our families. We will carry you on our heads, we will 
 kiss your feet, and smooth your brow for our salva- 
 tion " 
 
 " Pek ala," said I. " But get on with the prepara- 
 tions." 
 
 After some shuffling about a booming, resonant noise 
 roared out, the summons to prayer sounded, after the 
 Chaldsean way, by means of the most muscular of the 
 deacons attacking a board, set between two posts, with 
 a mallet. It is called the Nagushah. Pursuant to 
 its clamour the door again squealed open, and a num- 
 ber of booted and spurred feet tramped in to the 
 accompaniment of rifle-butts sharply grounded on the 
 stones. 
 
 " Kasha, we have searched all the houses, and have 
 found this place guiltless so far. Now we will, before 
 the worshippers enter, examine this place, Allah willing," 
 announced the Bimbashi. 
 
 And the priest replied cheerfully, " So do, Effen'." 
 
 Followed a confused noise as the soldiers tramped 
 about, ransacking the edifice. One stumbled against 
 my resting-place, and threw a grumbling curse at it 
 and its contents. I could hear them tapping for hollows, 
 shaking the altar, and racketing about generally. At 
 times I heard the American's voice speaking with the 
 Kasha. After a quarter of an hour or so the soldiers 
 all came to attention. 
 
 " Nothing found," muttered the officer in a puzzled 
 tone. " Yet our information Open the coffin." 
 
 I shut my eyes and struggled with an insane desire 
 to open them again as a bayonet was thrust under the 
 lid and began to prise it off. Marta lifted her voice in 
 lamentation over this ill-usage of a Christian corpse.
 
 Lying in State 199 
 
 The lid was wrenched away, a rush of cold air ran 
 over me. 
 
 " A corpse truly," said the Bimbashi, and I felt the 
 light of a candle held close to my face. 
 
 " By Al Qawi, a lovely woman too, Wilbur Effen'," 
 he added. I heard the American's voice make a vague 
 murmur, somewhat far away. Evidently, for my 
 comfort, he had the civilised man's horror of the dead. 
 
 " Yet our information " the officer proceeded, 
 
 still sotto voce. " Take out the body." 
 
 My blood ran cold. Marta came to the fore gallantly, 
 her shadow fell most gratefully over my face as she 
 interposed herself over the coffin and pleaded in broken 
 accents. That {he coffin should be searched was fitting, 
 so she said, but let not the body of her sister be given 
 over to callous soldierly handling. Was the Bimbashi 
 a dog that he should burn his father by abusing a body ? 
 It is well known that followers of Islam have a kind 
 courtesy for the dead. Let him permit her to handle 
 her kin. 
 
 The officer saw no reason to refuse so small a favour. 
 I felt the hands of the women grip me. Luckily they 
 took hold of me with circumspection and got me on the 
 floor safely. It was a struggle to keep rigid when 
 horny hands felt about my wraps the Bimbashi in 
 search of small-arms but I held out until, the coffin 
 having drawn blank, the lid was hammered over me 
 again. 
 
 The worst was over. After service would come 
 release. " I am satisfied. We will but rest in thine 
 house for a few hours and eat what we have with us, 
 then go our ways, Kasha," the officer said. 
 
 I had scarce time to realise that this spelt some more 
 hours in my cold, cramped prison when a man entered 
 the edifice and bestowed greetings on the Chaldseans 
 and the officer. " God's peace be with thee likewise,
 
 200 Lying in State 
 
 Auraham," all the Christians replied, and, " Who art 
 thou ? " demanded the Bimbashi. 
 
 " Effen', it is my sister lieth dead here, for I am elder 
 brother of the wife of the Ray is here. I work on a 
 farm some miles away, and, my master being a hard 
 man, hath yet given me until to-day's sunset that I 
 may attend her to the grave. Therefore, let the burying 
 begin as soon as morning prayers be done, Kasha 
 Sergius, my father, I pray." 
 
 " Yea," said the Bimbashi. " I have never viewed 
 the burying rites of the Chaldtean folk, and will watch 
 ye as my men rest.'-
 
 Chapter XVII 
 
 " HON-HA-A-A ! " 
 
 THIS was a nice new factor in the situation ! Cold 
 chills quite unconnected with the actual temperature 
 began to run down my spine. 
 
 14 This haste is unseemly, brother," said Marta, a 
 quaver of terror in her tone. " Evening will be early 
 enough." 
 
 " Nay, let it be after the morning service, that this 
 good man may rest ere he resume his way," the well- 
 meaning Bimbashi said. 
 
 " There is no grave dug," the Kasha put in. 
 
 '' There be men to dig," rejoined the officer. 
 
 " The Kurds have left us no spades," the Rayis 
 objected. 
 
 " Use sharpened stakes," the officer replied. 
 
 " But the folk must fare abroad to gather acorns, 
 that we may live and not die during the coming cold,'* 
 Deacon Ishu protested. 
 
 My friends were righting gallantly. " It will not take 
 a whole village to bury one body," the brother of the 
 dead replied. " I am my sister's nearest kin and I say, 
 Bury her after the service." 
 
 " I will not be ordered that thus I shall do, and thus 
 I shall not do, in my own church, Auraham, son of 
 Shlimoun," growled the cleric. 
 
 " I crave thy forgiveness, O Kasha Sergius, my father. 
 
 7* 2(U
 
 202 " Hon-ha-a-a ! 
 
 And in different wise crave thy kindness to do as I have 
 said." 
 
 " What hinders, then, over the burying ? " the Bim- 
 bashi demanded in a tone of suspicion. 
 
 The priest was at his last ditch, and afraid of rousing 
 full mistrust in the Turk's mind. " Now that thou 
 askest civilly it shall be as thou desirest, Auraham," 
 he said, despair in his voice. 
 
 Pleasant hearing for me in the coffin ! His next 
 words, spoken louder for my benefit, brought some 
 comfort. 
 
 " We be honoured that the Bimbashi Effen' will 
 condescend to look upon our service," he said. " Our 
 burying rites be lengthy, however, and I fear the Effen' 
 will find himself unable to wait to the ending." 
 
 I recollected that Chaldsean funeral services some- 
 times last four or five hours, and composed myself. 
 Another spell of lying in state ; and cold and danger 
 was not a pleasant prospect, but of course they would 
 not attempt to bury me alive, if only for fear of my 
 giving the show away. The priest would find a way out 
 before the time came. 
 
 The soldiers departed, the Nagushah roared again, 
 and a stream of feet shuffled in, punctuated by little 
 clinks the congregation filing in and the men leaving 
 their daggers in the porch. And then a moment's 
 tense hush, waking into the measured cadence of the 
 matin praises of the first Christians of the East. 
 
 " In the way that we are going may Thy mercy 
 keep us, O Lord, as it kept the child David from Saul. 
 
 " Give us Thy mercy as we are pressing on, that we 
 may attain to peace according to Thy will. The grace 
 that kept Moses in the sea ... by that grace deliver us 
 from evil. 
 
 " In the morning we all arise, we all worship the
 
 Hon-ha-a-a ! " 203 
 
 Father. . . . We ask with sighing, we beseech Thy mercy. 
 Every day I promise Thee that to-morrow I will re- 
 pent ; all my days are past and gone, my faults still 
 remain. Have mercy upon me ! Have mercy upon 
 me ! "... 
 
 So, to and fro, swayed the antiphon; the voices 
 blent, the service was over, and the grotesque horror 
 of my position was gone. The great fact stood out 
 that these many scores of my fellow Christians sang 
 praises with unusual heartiness that day because fear 
 of Turkish persecution was over for the while, and the 
 greater one that their future safety depended entirely 
 on me. 
 
 The congregation trooped out again. Near the head 
 of the coffin a child stumbled and whimpered, her 
 mother comforted her in a caressing whisper How, I 
 thought, would that same child whimper under a Turkish 
 bayonet ? I would be buried alive sooner than learn, 
 through my own doing, what that sound would be 
 like ! 
 
 A new quartette of watchers replaced my friends. 
 They wailed at intervals ; other times I was left to 
 silence and my own reflections. Would the Turks go 
 before the burying began, or before it ended ? Obvi- 
 ously the Kasha's r61e was to put off the beginning as 
 long as possible ; then, if driven to it, to make it a tug 
 of war between the Bimbashi's curiosity and ceremonial 
 tediousness. And, in any case, could my friends get 
 me out without letting the whole village into the 
 secret ? And what if the Bimbashi outstayed the 
 service ? The Kasha dare not let me be buried alive ; 
 but what if I gave no sign of vitality and he thought 
 I had really died of cold or suffocation ? 
 
 When my musing reached that point the Kasha's 
 delays touched their limit; a pair of deacons, not my
 
 204 " Hon-ha-a-a ! 
 
 friends, came to warn the watchers and prepare the 
 church. Presently Ishu came, made a pretence of 
 doing something to the coffin, and whispered : " Be 
 still, wait, we have a scheme. Though the first sods 
 fall, hope yet." 
 
 I had to be content, though it occurred to me that it 
 would be easy for them to hustle down the mould on 
 me, trusting that my cries would be unheard that was 
 absurd enough. I began to lose nerve, and had to 
 press my lower jaw to the coffin-lid to check a betraying 
 chatter of my teeth. 
 
 Ishu stepped out, and soon afterwards sounded a 
 noise of many feet a-tramp, with wailing high above 
 it, and the Kasha's voice cutting thinly through the 
 diapason as he chanted extracts from the liturgy. 
 The footsteps trooped in, silence fell, and he began the 
 service in a shaking voice. 
 
 He spoke as slowly as possible, spinning out each 
 prayer to its full deliberate length. By contrast the 
 choir's chanting of the responses in ordinary time 
 sounded liltingly staccato. When he was speaking 
 alone I could hear the Turks outside the doorway 
 commenting on what was going on. 
 
 A stage of the service for outdoor use was gained, 
 the coffin was lifted, carried a few feet, put down and 
 pushed along the ground through the door; carried 
 again the courtyard ; pushed again the wall door ; 
 swung up, borne swayingly down the steps at an angle 
 which nearly set me on my feet, and then carried on the 
 level at a jerky pace. 
 
 " No unseemly haste, my children ! " 
 
 Thus the time-gaining Kasha, as he dealt out a few 
 directions ; all round horses came at full gallop and 
 drew up near me. My heart stopped beating a moment 
 as Papa's voice rang out. 
 
 Scarcely pausing for the usual greetings, he asked
 
 " Hon-ha-a-a I ' 205 
 
 after me. He was Jerningham Agha, and his daughter 
 had come over-night to Sliwa Klissia; where was she 
 now ? 
 
 The Rayis explained, the Khanoum truly came to 
 the village, but, finding it harried and in no wise fit 
 for her entertaining, rode on again, after having the 
 road to Kochma described to her. And had she not 
 reached the town ? Wealth of God ! 
 
 " Lost ! " cried poor Papa. It was hard to refrain 
 from calling to cheer him up. " Ye let her go, 
 then ? " 
 
 I knew it was the presence of the coffin that kept him 
 from saying candid things to the Rayis. The Bimbashi 
 tramped on, after a murmured colloquy. " Y'Allah, 
 thou dog of a Christian, wilt swear it is as thou sayest ? " 
 he demanded. 
 
 ** By the Head and House of Mar Shimoun and the 
 blessed Gospels, since last evening mine eyes have not 
 lit on the Khanoum ! " the Rayis asserted truthfully. 
 
 " Allah 'r Rahim ! A Frankish lady alone in the 
 wilds 1 I will give three of my men who know this 
 part to aid you, Effendi, and, if my orders were not to 
 proceed straight back to Bitfa after my mission here 
 is done, would come likewise. Youssouf Mosuleani, 
 Airat, Begtash son of Mourad, go with the Effendi, and 
 so soon as the lady is found do ye return to Kochma. 
 Effendi, Inshallah, you will find your daughter, soon 
 and safe." 
 
 They exchanged salutations, the hoof-beats died 
 away as Papa and his followers set off afresh in sea'rch 
 of me, and the process of interring me resumed its in- 
 terrupted course. 
 
 Again my prison was slung up and the choir raised 
 the inexpressibly eerie burial-chant. It was, as the 
 chinks and air-holes showed, a grey day, a louring day 
 with rain in it ; a few drops began to patter down and
 
 206 " Hon-ha-a-a ! 
 
 their rapping on the hollow wood mingled weirdly 
 with the high-pitched, resonant, wailing tones. 
 
 " Hail my brethren and friends who sleep ! " so cried 
 half the choir, in character of the soul of the newly 
 deceased. " Open the door that I may enter and see 
 your ranks." 
 
 And the other half trilled back as the dead in Sheol : 
 
 " Come, enter in, and see how many giants are sleep- 
 ing here and have made rust and dust and worms in 
 the bosom of Sheol ! Come, enter and see, O child of 
 death, the race of Adam ; see and gaze where thy 
 kind dwells ! Come, enter and see the abundance of 
 the bones of their commingling. The bone of the 
 King and the bone of the servant are not separated. 
 Come, enter, and see the great corruption we are dwelling 
 in." 
 
 And sharp in answer rang out the triumphal conclu- 
 sion from the people in full : 
 
 " Wait for the Lord, who will come and raise you by 
 His right Hand ! " 
 
 With this reassurance clanging out, my prison was 
 set down by the open grave. 
 
 Another stage passed, the wind was cutting in at 
 the chinks ; through them, also, the rain dripped and 
 began to soak my wrappings. Things were growing 
 desperate, only my education in a land of Fate and 
 Allah kept me from panic. Would the priest succeed 
 in spinning out the service until the Turks were bored ? 
 If he did, how would he get me out then ? And was I 
 likely to survive many more hours' exposure ? And
 
 Hon-ha-a-a ! " 20" 
 
 if he could not outwear the soldiers' patience it was 
 like the desert, the situation La Siwa Hu. Only a 
 stroke of Providence could set matters right, I decided, 
 and as I did so Providence stepped in neatly with the 
 rattle and snap of many rifles fired at long range. 
 
 Simultaneously with the clatter a bullet crashed in 
 a corner of the coffin, missing me ; a voice near cried 
 out in pain and five-score in alarm; then there was 
 the sound of people who fly in haste, and the voice of 
 the Bimbashi calling his men to attention. 
 
 For a moment I thought the Turks had begun a 
 wanton massacre, the echoes of a snarling " Hon-ha ! 
 Hon-ha-a-a ! " sounded in the distance enlightened 
 me. It came nearer and nearer, swelled clear and close 
 in triumphant derision until there was a thudding of 
 hoofs around me. Then the yell of triumph changed 
 to one of wonder, pistols went off desultorily, a word 
 of command in Turkish was snapped out, a score of 
 rifles barked in disciplined unison, and then there was 
 Domdaniel going on in the churchyard. 
 
 It was easy to understand. The Turks lounging in 
 the shelter of the trees and tombs, had been unobserved 
 by a party of Kurds riding the road above the village. 
 The funeral party had caught the attention of my 
 blood-brethren, however, and for pure kittenish fun 
 they had emptied their rifles on the close-packed mass 
 of folk, and then charged down the slope. Their sur- 
 prise when the Nizam rose from ambush must have 
 been excessive. The Kurd will never risk a brush with 
 the military if he can avoid it. And, as before-men- 
 tioned, the unarmed people ran and hid, and all Dom- 
 daniel was let loose in the churchyard, and I was in 
 the middle of it, under the boots and hoofs of it, in fact. 
 
 For a short, terrible space the battle raged, and every 
 minute of it threatened to be my last, for men and 
 horses stamped and fell on the coffin, and why it did
 
 208 " Hon-ha-a-a ! 
 
 not burst is a mystery to this day. Providence, I 
 presume. An eternity of firing, yelling, stampeding, and 
 awful screams from wounded or battle-crazed horses 
 seemed to go by. It was a few minutes in reality, then 
 the tide of war receded and its noise grew fainter. 
 
 Blind panic came on me, and I would have tried to 
 break my way out. The nails were loosened by two 
 removals and replacements, but I was powerless to 
 struggle, between cold, cramp, and the shroud. I 
 felt Fear, blind unreasoning Fear it was past La 
 Siwa Hu. 
 
 Blessed voices showed at that point that two Chal- 
 daeans had returned from the flight. " Take the other 
 end, Shamasha Ishu ! " the Kasha ordered. " We will 
 bear it to the cave lest the fight return hitherward." 
 
 This for possible hearers, and in a whisper: 
 " Khanoum ! You hear ? Your release is here, thanks 
 be to Allah ! " 
 
 The coffin rocked and swayed as the two ecclesiastics 
 bore it away, and the sounds of strife grew dim. The 
 cave was a small one at the foot of the church hill, the 
 mouth concealed by bushes. The coffin was set down 
 with a jerk, the lid crackled as it was torn off in haste. 
 A little light sifted in through the leafless bushes. 
 " Pardon, Khanoum, it is in haste if any one sees 
 us " 
 
 So the Kasha apologised. To explain the apology the 
 coffin was tilted sideways and I was tipped out gently 
 on my face, as one turns out a tinned rabbit. I did 
 not trouble about dignity. I rolled on my back and 
 lay in the joy of free space, watching while the men 
 lifted another shrouded form from the back of the cave 
 and put it in my late resting-place. 
 
 " The Khanoum will have pity and pardon again ? " 
 this second apology from the priest was to excuse his 
 rollin ga cloak round me, and afterwards picking me up
 
 " Hon-ha-a-a ! ' 209 
 
 and bearing me out of the gloom into the dull morning 
 and lashing rain. Oh, the feel of the rain on my 
 cheeks through the fold of the cloth he had arranged 
 over my face ! He carried me at a sharp run, the 
 Deacon trotting alongside, and before the rain had 
 soaked through the cloak we were in the wood and I 
 was set down on a bank and the muffling cloth with- 
 drawn. 
 
 " We and our families will bear you on our heads for 
 ever ! " the Kasha cried. As he spoke he went on his 
 knees to kiss my hands. The Deacon went one better 
 by grovelling to kiss my feet. " The Nizam have taken 
 horse and driven thfe Kurds away. I saw them with 
 mine eyes ! " he chuckled. " They are afar off on the 
 hill ! And the Khanoum's father is near. I will bring 
 the mare." 
 
 He raced off, Kasha Sergius proceeded to hack the 
 wrappings off me with his khan jar with an apology, 
 brought me a drink of water from a spring with an 
 apology, and rubbed my hands and feet more apologies, 
 until I was able to move a little. As he rubbed he 
 talked. 
 
 " Nay, Khanoum, I had no plan," this in answer to a 
 question. " No plan, only belief that God would send 
 rescue in time." 
 
 " But, Kasha, the Deacon told me thou hadst one." 
 
 *' By my bidding, Khanoum, We knew He would 
 send the aid in time, but feared that a Feringhi would 
 not have true faith, and so comforted you." 
 
 Which was exactly what I might have expected from 
 Orientals. " But you are half dead ! " the good man 
 added in pity. " I can bring you in one heart-beat a 
 little wine from the nearest house no, no fear of detec- 
 tion the people have run to see the fight and we 
 have plenty ; the accursed Kurds are too strict Shiahs 
 to defile themselves by smashing the jars."
 
 210 " Hon-ha-a-a ! 
 
 He wrapped his own cloak round me, dropped and 
 kissed my feet and hands in turn. " Ya, Khanoum ! " 
 he exclaimed, kneeling with my hands still clutched in 
 his and his fine eyes chaining mine, " I have loved 
 sisters in the village and now the Kurds will not dare 
 to attack us for so long ! " 
 
 He rose and ran in turn. I flexed my cramped limbs, 
 drew the cloak around me, and looked round. I was 
 sitting on a fallen trunk in a natural cosy corner wherein 
 the village men and maids probably did their flirting 
 when it was not early on a drippy morning with a 
 fight going on at the other end of the place. At pre- 
 sent it was unattractive. I withdrew my gaze from 
 the sodden undergrowth and leaves on which my bare 
 feet were cushioned to the ring of melancholy, close- 
 grown trees round. They were dark ; dark wood-depths 
 backed them, and between two a man stood. 
 
 The shock shook the cold out of me. In a flash I 
 was simultaneously conscious of my feet and hid them 
 under my skirt, wished an earthquake would arrive, 
 and wondered if Fate would ever find a more grotesque 
 joke to play on me. 
 
 The man was staring at me, his mouth above his 
 turned-up collar agape a little with sheer astonishment. 
 It was the American. 
 
 I could not speak for a moment. I wondered if he 
 had been there three minutes in which case well, he 
 probably did not understand Syriac, and Kasha Sergius 
 I shuddered at the thought was a full-bearded, full- 
 blooded, handsome, muscular Christian, not a day over 
 thirty. 
 
 " Miss Haroun Miss Jerningham ! " the man gasped. 
 
 " How did you come here ? " I snapped fiercely. 
 
 " Left Bitfa for Diabekr two hours ago, heard shots 
 and came to see the fight, lost servants in the excite- 
 ment, and lost my way in the wood." His explanation
 
 Hon-ha-a-a ! " 211 
 
 was jerked out nervously ; his face was a study. I dare 
 not ask how long he had been there. 
 
 " You seem to have got into trouble since you left 
 Bitfa," he went on. " Can I help ? " 
 
 " You can find the centre of interest the fight 
 half a mile away, in that direction," I interrupted, 
 pointing. 
 
 He reddened. " Miss Ha Jerningham, I do not 
 like to leave you " 
 
 " Even at my own request ? " I interrupted again. 
 " Then please go." 
 
 " To leave you unprotected " he hesitated. 
 
 " would be a good deal better than to try and look 
 after me," I sneered, half frantic with rage and weari- 
 ness. " I am an Eastern woman, and I would rather 
 attend to my own affairs myself. I am among my 
 friends, though you may not be aware of the fact." 
 
 He regarded me gravely. " On the contrary, I rather 
 suspected it," he replied deliberately. 
 
 Then he raised his hat and departed.
 
 Chapter XVIII 
 
 " VALE, KURDISTAN ! " 
 
 IN a few minutes the Deacon and the Priest returned, 
 and Arjamand was making free with my back hair, in 
 her affectionate way. The keeper of the secret place had 
 tended her well, the laming had been trivial, and, all 
 things considered, she was in fine fettle. "But you 
 cannot ride or walk barefoot, Khanoum," the Deacon 
 desponded. 
 
 There was sense in the remark. " We will lift you 
 into the saddle," the Kasha proposed, " then Shamasha 
 Ishu can hold you on and lead the mare gently. When 
 you overtake the searchers you can declare he met you 
 a few minutes before. What think you, Khanoum ? " 
 
 " Very well, Kasha. Help me up." 
 
 " Before you depart, one detail. We had to tell the 
 keeper of the mare the secret. He will be dumb will 
 you tell your father, the Agha ? " 
 
 " I considered the question as I lay in the coffin. No. 
 It is not well that he should know. Inquiry might 
 arise, you shall understand he is a true Feringhi. The 
 Feringhi tongue trips and blurts. Now, help me up, 
 for I weary for my father and my sister. " 
 
 The priest lifted me up, and, with a last mutter of 
 thanks and blessing, fled towards the village. I rode 
 by balance bare feet do not accord with stirrups on 
 a chilly day and made up the details of my tale. It 
 
 212
 
 " Vale, Kurdistan I " 213 
 
 is not really right to lie to your father, but circum- 
 stances excuse anything. 
 
 I was tired, and indisposed to self-criticism. Very 
 well satisfied with myself, I just clung to the saddle 
 and dreamed dimly of clean rugs and a bath, found 
 the drippy world lovely after my return from the grave, 
 and woke, tingling with mad irritation at a recollection 
 of the American. 
 
 Silently Deacon Ishu led the mare, propped me up 
 when I threatened to droop off, and kept watch. We 
 went through the thickest part of the wood, meeting 
 nobody, and with the battle noises fading behind us, 
 the trees were thinning and the little dome of the 
 Kochma Musjid faintly visible on the horizon when we 
 heard an unmistakable voice behind a hedge. 
 
 I rode round into a group including Papa, Miksi, 
 and Hajji Izzett, and two soldiers. They were dis- 
 mounted, investigating some trail. I slid off Arjamand 
 straight into Papa's arms, and for some minutes could 
 do nothing but cling to him. On his part he was too 
 overcome for anything but broken words of affection. 
 
 The Hajji and the Miksi shed tears of joy outright, 
 the soldiers bawled the glad news to gather in the other 
 searchers. Deacon Ishu was lionised for finding me. 
 " Thank God ! " said Papa at last, " but child ! " 
 
 He held me off a little, and glared meaningly up and 
 down my person. " Where's your coat ? And bare- 
 foot, as I'm alive ! " 
 
 " Kurds," I replied unblushingly. 
 
 " Allah '1 Muhaimin, Effen' ! " cried one of the soldiers, 
 and made pantomimic inquiry by inserting one finger 
 in his mouth, and opening his eyes at me round it after 
 withdrawal. It is a gesture understood throughout 
 Kurdistan, and stands for the close-pared state in 
 which Kurdish freebooters love to leave wayfarers. 
 
 " Not so bad* my brother ! '.' I replied, with a blush.
 
 214 " Vale, Kurdistan I " 
 
 *' Did you inquire for me at Sliwa Klissia, Papa ? Then 
 you will know I left there last night to ride on to 
 Kochma. I have wandered about all night, part of the 
 time I spent in a cave, and this morning fell in with 
 Kurds. They robbed me of my furs and boots before 
 I could escape. That's all. How is your knee now ? " 
 
 " I can ride. Your furs and boots, child ? How 
 strange " 
 
 " I don't feel up to talking now," I protested. " It's 
 not nice up to the ankles in wet grass " 
 
 " By Jove I am a fool," he rejoined, conscience 
 smitten. " Wandering all night my poor little girl ! 
 We won't have another word until you are rested." 
 
 And it was wrapped in his fur coat and mounted 
 before him on the huge chestnut he rode that I finally 
 reached the little town, with the rest of the searchers 
 in triumphant, shouting attendance. 
 
 Kochma is a dirty little place, and our quarters were 
 in a dirty little house with carpets hung up instead of 
 doors, and any number of draughts per room. I was 
 not disposed to cavil at anything; the shouts of our 
 escort brought the other servants and Evelyn out 
 into the muddy courtyard, and it was hard to tell 
 whether, of the whole company, Evelyn or Sulti or 
 Semiramis was wildest with joy at my return. Papa 
 slid me down to Sulti, she carried me in bodily to the 
 blessed privacy of the room she had prepared for me, 
 and as we went I saw the expression of Evelyn's candid 
 English eyes change to blank astonishment as she eyed 
 my hair fixedly. The appalling blunder I had made 
 dawned on me, and the impossibility of ever retrieving 
 it was apparent when I found that Sulti's inscrutable 
 Eastern orbs were also engrossed by the same object. 
 
 The consternation of the pair at my general plight 
 was inexpressible. Kindness kept them from questions 
 for a while ; but by the time I was comfortably en-
 
 " Vale, Kurdistan / " 215 
 
 sconced amidst my own nice clean rugs I had put them 
 in possession of the tale I had related to Papa. They 
 looked at one another with saucer eyes. 
 
 " Those Kurds," said Sulti. 
 
 " They were probably dressed in buckram," mur- 
 mured Evelyn in a pensive aside. 
 
 "It is strange; they took thy furs, but I perceive 
 thine earrings are safe," said Sulti. 
 
 " I hid them in my pockets after leaving the village, 
 and replaced them after the robbing," I declared. 
 
 " And thy hair " speech failed her. Her eyes 
 
 met mine and I read a tale in them. 
 
 " I amused myself by doing it up in the Chaldsean 
 fashion," I announced boldly. 
 
 " So tidily," she remarked. 
 
 " I believe you think I'm lying, both of you," I 
 made answer severely. 
 
 Sulti looked piteous. " It is because I love thee so 
 dearly, my Rathia Khatoun ! And I have known thine 
 eyes so long ! " 
 
 " If my sister chooses to prevaricate it is not for us 
 to question, Sulti," Evelyn reproved stoutly. But she 
 looked distressed too. 
 
 I pulled her down beside me. " That's right, little 
 girl ! My Sulti, thou readest a lie in mine eyes, readest 
 thou shame therein likewise ? " 
 
 " Not so, my Rathia Khatoun. None will ever read 
 shame in thine eyes, save they be dead eyes first." 
 
 "There spoke Asaf ! Now, Sulti, of what I have told 
 part is true, and part lies. I have spoken. And, by 
 the honour of my mother, nothing has happened that 
 should cause shame or regret." 
 
 " I must believe that," assented Sulti. 
 
 " If you didn't we would quarrel, you and I," re- 
 turned Evelyn bellicosely. " I'm quite satisfied. Only 
 sad because your dear albino lock is gone, Rathia."
 
 216 " Vale, Kurdistan I " 
 
 Marta had snipped it off before consigning my nail 
 scissors to the stream. *' Arjamand probably made a 
 snack of it," I returned. 
 
 " Wonderful horse, Arjamand ! " Evelyn kissed the 
 denuded spot. " Let us be thankful, Sulti, that at 
 least Rathia does not insult our intelligence by expecting 
 us to believe her tales." 
 
 " I only expect you both to back me when I tell the 
 tales to the pater. Now let us .change the subject. 
 And Evelyn Khatoun hath told thee of our sojourn in 
 Kalmaru," Sulti ? " 
 
 " I did," said Evelyn. " She jumped when I men- 
 tioned it." 
 
 " At the thought of thee in a strange place," replied 
 Sulti, with composure. " But the ladies of the house 
 were kind to you, it appears." 
 
 " 'Specially the Khanoum Effen'," said Evelyn. 
 
 " She is tender-hearted," remarked Sulti musingly. 
 She was kneeling beside my linen trunk, and paused 
 to eye me reflectively, looking, with her arms sunk 
 in the white piles, like an elderly, bronzed Anadyomene 
 rising from the sea-foam. 
 
 " Hey ? You know her ? " demanded Evelyn. 
 
 " From your report, Evelyn Khatoun. And she 
 gave you both gifts at parting ? It is well. Now, my 
 Rathia Khatoun, I am angered with you." 
 
 " Angry, Sulti, my nurse ? " The abruptness of the 
 change of topic failed to surprise me in my astonish- 
 ment at the declaration. 
 
 " Very angry. I served thy mother before thee, it 
 is true, and was a woman grown when I bore thee in 
 mine arms, a little babe, by night and day ; but for all 
 that am I too old to be of use ? I am not, so I presume 
 to think. Yet thou didst slip away in the dark." 
 
 " It was to save thee discomfort," I protested. 
 
 " Fine comfort 1 I set my daily doings by thee, anp
 
 Vale, Kurdistan/'" 217 
 
 without thee I am even as a bird without its tail. These 
 three days I know not what to do ; there is no Rathia 
 Khatoun to dress and to prepare the little comforts 
 for at the set times I am bewildered. And the 
 
 nights ! Thinkest thou I slept ? The first and the 
 
 next I know not where thou art ; I see thee in the cold, 
 the wet, the wind. They are eternities, those nights ! 
 May Mart Maryam keep me from the like again ! The 
 third night I learn thou art at Sliwa Klissia. What 
 comfort is it ? I pray thee answer. Thou in a dirty 
 village ! Ya, Mar Geework, I think, they know 
 nothing of the ways of English ladies, who will look 
 after thee I Mayhap the Kurds will go on chappaw 
 and kill thee by mistake, or thou wilt sleep in a draught 
 and have a cough There ! " 
 
 I did cough, opportunely. The lecture ended in 
 something peculiarly nauseating from her private 
 drug box. I had not lived with her for twenty-two 
 years without learning her weak spots. 
 
 It was afternoon before I descended to the sole 
 reception-room of our limited establishment. It was 
 not an imposing apartment; the servants had omitted 
 to remove the festoons of spider-web from the corners 
 and to wash the floor before laying down our rugs 
 Saruk carpets on a dirty floor symbolises the way they 
 do things in Asiatic Turkey. The furniture consisted 
 of our trunks and saddles, a few divans, and a terrible 
 oleograph of the Russian Imperial family left behind 
 by the owners of the house when they were evicted for 
 our accommodation ; but Papa, established by the stove 
 with Evelyn on his sound knee and his old black briar, 
 made it Home. 
 
 Evelyn had been smoothing the way, still he received 
 me a little grimly at first. " Well, Rathia," he began, 
 carefully ignoring my proffered cheek, " what have you 
 to say about the dance you led us ? "
 
 218 " Vale, Kurdistan ! " 
 
 Earlier in the day, when I was underdressed, and wet, 
 and worn out, his righteous indignation at my escapades 
 had been swamped in pity ; now that I was rested and 
 clothed and curled and scented, and myself again, it 
 flared up. " Only that I am sorry I had to worry you, 
 dad, dear," I replied humbly ; " and, after all, it was 
 as well for Evie." 
 
 " That's what I have been trying to din into his head 
 for a mortal hour ! " Evelyn came nobly to my sup- 
 port with a stage aside. " Why, I'd be at Mouschat 
 in that Odah but for you I Tell us fully about Sliwa 
 Klissia now, old girl." 
 
 The narrative satisfied him, with respect to plausi- 
 bility, that is. He scolded me violently for leaving 
 the village ; then proposed that we should get the official 
 inquiry over. We accordingly donned ulsters and tar- 
 boushes and sallied out into the drizzle. 
 
 By rights the Kaimakam should have called on us, 
 but he had suggested that we should drop in at our 
 convenience and save ourselves the trouble of an official 
 visit. This sounded vaguely thoughtful on his part, 
 but we found out, during a subsequent visit to his 
 haremlik, that his one spouse was a terribly muscular 
 Albanian lady who would have found fault with him 
 for calling on a brace of veilless Christian damsels sans 
 chaperon. 
 
 Therefore Miksi and Hajji Izzett conducted us to the 
 gubernatorial office, the first-floor back of a jerry-built 
 hovel, situated in the lowest, wettest part of the place. 
 The ground-floor was devoted to stables exclusively. 
 You went up a ladder and along a passage full of soldiers 
 and hangers-on, then behind a curtain into a large room 
 furnished with a divan, some bags full of documents, 
 many cobwebs, a few rugs, and an Almanac des Usages 
 de Levant. The Kaimakam, Gashko Bey, was slightly 
 tipsy but very nice ; a fat man, new to Kurdistan and
 
 " Vale, Kurdistan ! " 219 
 
 his post, fussy and nervous. He established me with 
 Evelyn at the head of the divan, perched himself at the 
 far end, tried to hide his feet behind the scabbard 
 of his dress-sword, and kept his eyes on my shoes when 
 he had to address me. He had never spoken to a 
 European lady before, and probably feared that Papa 
 would canvass his intentions if he looked too often at 
 my unveiled features. 
 
 " As salamu 'alai-koum, Effendina ! As salamu 
 'alai-koum, Evelyn Effendina ! " He saluted us, after 
 Papa's introduction, by raising a hand from his knee 
 to his lips and brow. " Yaghmour chok ! " 
 
 I agreed that it was raining, that one might, in fact, 
 venture to call it a damp day. Papa prophesied that 
 we would have more rain before we were done with it. 
 Like human nature, conversational openings are funda- 
 mentally the same throughout the world. Then a 
 young soldier brought in the customary tea and cigar- 
 ettes, the Bey asked if we took lemon or tamarind, 
 adding that he preferred lemon himself in weather 
 like the present. He clung to the climate as a safe 
 topic, and it brought him gracefully to business. Had 
 I not found it trying to be deprived of my furs in 
 the drizzle ? And would I permit him to summon 
 the Chief of Police, who wished to learn the details 
 of my mishap, with a view to the apprehension of the 
 thieves ? 
 
 The Chief, a large, austere Laze", was admitted, and 
 with him a young Bagdhadi secretary, who sat on the 
 floor and took my depositions on an enormous sheet of 
 paper. I sketched my Bitfa adventures lightly, con- 
 cluding : " Veli Yozbashi will have informed thee, Bey 
 Effen', of how I penetrated into Bitfa in search of in- 
 formation, and there got into difficulties." 
 
 " All of that is known to us, Effen'. And the Fran- 
 kish loupe-gatherer afforded thee a refuge until the
 
 220 " Vale, Kurdistan I " 
 
 Mutessariff held inquiry and had thee escorted out of 
 the town. Is it not so ? " 
 
 " Even so, Elf en'." 
 
 " But was the Frankish Agha at home ? There is 
 some talk that he is in Van on his business." 
 
 " I was received by his deputy." 
 
 " His deputy, Effen' ? " 
 
 " At least by a Frank whom I took for his deputy in 
 the loupe trade." 
 
 " It was not known to us that the Agha had an 
 assistant. His name, if you please, Effen' ? " 
 
 I said, principally because I did not want to have 
 Evelyn bothering me with questions about the American, 
 that I had not asked about it. I supposed he was a 
 Frenchman; he had been civil in affording a refuge, 
 otherwise I could give no particulars of him. Then I 
 went on with the real lies. 
 
 Some Eastern men are almost as sharp as women. 
 The pair cross-examined me exhaustively ; the Bimbashi 
 had taken several prisoners at Sliwa Klissia, the Kaima- 
 kam wished to send for them to see if I could identify 
 any of them. Naturally I did not wish to get innocent 
 men into trouble. I declared I could not undertake to 
 identify any of my assailants. During the robbing it 
 was too dark to see well. 
 
 They could see to rob me. So the Chief of Police 
 pointed out. 
 
 I replied : it was Wolf and Sheep Time, light enough 
 for robbing purposes, but not enough to mark the 
 features of a stranger. 
 
 Further catechised, I said I had been compelled to 
 hand over my property without dismounting, and had 
 made my escape by a bold dash while the Kurds dis- 
 puted over the booty. After that the inquiries grew so 
 searching that I began to feel myself getting involved 
 and had to cut the affair short at any cost.
 
 " Vale, Kurdistan.' " 221 
 
 -" A moment, by your grace, Bey Effen'," I mur- 
 mured, and, in a weak voice : " Papa, will you send 
 Miksi to ask Sulti for some cologne ? I find the strain 
 of answering so many questions " 
 
 It answered admirably. My excellent parent was 
 up in arms at once. He hinted broadly that he thought 
 the examination had lasted long enough. The officials 
 pointed out that the maintenance of peace and order 
 in the Kaza of Kochma required a full inquiry re my 
 case. Then he grew excited and declared that the 
 Kaza of Kochma and its law and order might go 
 to Kaf before he would sit still and let his daughter be 
 bullied. " Kaf " was his actual expression, but it 
 sounded quite improper as he said it. They disputed 
 warmly. I looked as pale and droopy as I could. 
 Evelyn backed me admirably. She afterwards told me 
 that her expression of silent indignation was a reminis- 
 cence of Ellen Terry in The Cup. Finally, when Papa 
 threatened to wire to the Sultana Victoria and the Grand 
 Vizier Gladstone, his personal friend, about the officials' 
 conduct, they collapsed and declared themselves satis- 
 fied with what they had already gleaned. 
 
 " I am sorry I could give thee no more information, 
 Bey Effen'," was my parting observation. " However, 
 if you ever find a Kurd within the Kana with his feet 
 encased in a pair of Frankish-made lady's brown riding- 
 boots, size five, you can safely arrest him on suspicion." 
 
 Next day it was : " Vale, Kurdistan ! " and I said 
 it without regret as we headed south for the Tigris 
 plain.
 
 BOOK III 
 IN THE LAND OF THE TWO GREAT RIVERS
 
 Chapter I 
 
 WE REACH HOME 
 
 FROM one world to another in two weeks. From bitter 
 Highland Autumn to sun-bathed Lowland Autumn. 
 From a land of distress to a land where it is reasonably 
 easy to be happy. In short, from Kurdistan to Mosul. 
 
 That was our journey. For form's sake a band of 
 zaptiehs escorted us, but our real guards were the names 
 of Shishman Jerningham Agha (which means " Fat Mr. 
 Jerningham ") and Mosuleani Khatoun. I am " My 
 Lady of Mosul " commonly, between the rivers, more 
 rarely " the Red Lady " Kizil Khatoun. Our 'tween 
 Rivers habit of nicknaming is a little confusing at times. 
 We journeyed through valleys and over heights, every 
 day there was more sunshine, and every day my spirits 
 rose as additional miles lay between us and Kurdistan. 
 It is not at all unpleasing to be wakened in the chilly, 
 exhilarating, dusky dawn, before any Moslem can tell 
 a white thread from a black and get him to his prayers, 
 by the noise of the muleteers loading up and taking 
 the separation from their warm blankets out of the 
 beasts, verbally. It was the same tune each day : 
 
 " Ya, misery of thine immodest mother ! May Allah 
 make His face to turn from those who bred me to this 
 work 1 " 
 
 " Rouse thee, laziest of all Al Khaliq made ! May 
 Allah make the countenance cold of him who sold thee 
 to me ! " 
 
 8 226
 
 226 We Reach Home 
 
 " Child of a female mule ! May Allah burn the 
 father of he who broke thee in ! " 
 
 And so forth, ad nauseam. I wonder why Aristo- 
 phanes never tried his hand at a Muleteers' Chorus. 
 
 Then our toilet in the dark would be enlivened by 
 the sound of Papa's voice chiming in with good, decent, 
 wholesome English abuse that dropped all the reedy 
 profanity of the Orientals, as he got the servants off. 
 
 Sometimes we halted with old acquaintances, instead 
 of fending for ourselves. We picked up good company 
 
 by fits on the way. Now it was the Reverend Mr. , 
 
 of the Archbishop's Mission to the Chaldaeans, who 
 rode with us ; an imposing figure with feet dangling to 
 the knees of a mule, in a shabby cassock sandwiched 
 between a turban and Cappadocian brogues. Then a 
 big, mild, Dominican Father doing his pastoral rounds 
 on a little, vicious donkey. For two days our route 
 coincided with that of a Kurdish tribe moving to winter 
 quarters, and we rode with the Chief at the head of a 
 torrent of dainty-hooved brown sheep, mischievous 
 goats, laden mules and cattle, fierce, hawk-faced men, 
 handsome women, and sturdy children, for all the 
 world like a minor Exodus. The Chief was a Sharif; 
 that is, he had, like me, an Abbasside mother. Wherever 
 he was became, automatically, a place of pilgrimage, 
 and people came by night to ask him to draw pentacles 
 on chips of wood for conveyance to sick folk to cure 
 them withal. Descent from the Prophet's Uncle still 
 conveys distinction in Kurdistan. We rested on Sun- 
 days, and always contrived to arrive on Saturdays at 
 a Christian hamlet. There Church would be all ready 
 for us, with Service and the Kiss of Peace, which latter 
 scandalised Evelyn until she found that you simply 
 touch the hand of the officiating priest, and the hands 
 of any other worshippers who have preceded you, and 
 then kiss your own.
 
 We Reach Home 227 
 
 The second Sunday we were in the Tigris plains. The 
 fact became more apparent during each hour's sunny 
 ride ; with rolling steppes around, arrowy Tigris gener- 
 ally in sight, and always sharp mounds ; the grave-piles 
 of dead cities, rising and sinking on horizon and fore- 
 ground as we rode on. The tribes, Kurd and Arab, 
 were coming down from the summer pastures, the dells 
 and hillocks were spotted with black-tent encamp- 
 ments, exactly like that Abraham Ben Therach must 
 have pitched on his halts between Ur and Mamre. We 
 could not halt near one, to greet an old friend or beg a 
 drink of laban, but the news : " Shishman Jerningham 
 Agha is back, he hath been made a Pasha by the Sultana 
 Victoria, and Mosuleani Khatoun is back likewise with 
 a mighty firman ! " would run round the tents before 
 we had dismounted. 
 
 Then would all the tribe tumble out, yelling as only 
 Arabs and eagles can yell, the women sounding the 
 maddening, flute-like Tahlil until one understood how, 
 with a girl on camelback in front to craze them on, the 
 Arabs once conquered half the world. 
 
 Most encampments boasted at least a few men who 
 had worked for us before ; these all turned out to show 
 their tezkares and beg employment. We promised to 
 send for them if they were wanted, and at that the more 
 energetic packed a supply of unleavened bread in their 
 cloaks after the way of the Beni-Israel when they fled 
 Red Sea- wards and joined themselves to our party, 
 certain of being able to live somehow under our shadow. 
 We headed quite a respectable cavalcade when we 
 reached Tel Keif on a sun-bathed morning. 
 
 Tel Keif is the last stage as you come to Mosul from 
 the north, and, as we had sent telegraphic notice of our 
 coming ahead, most of our Mosul intimates had ridden 
 there to escort us home, in the dear and pretty Eastern 
 way. The Vali sent an escort of honour, which met us
 
 228 We Reach Home 
 
 before we reached the village, and we made an effective 
 entry at the head of our shouting mob of Chaldagans 
 and Arabs, with the grave Turkish soldiers at either 
 side. 
 
 Piers headed the welcoming cavalcade, mounted on 
 his showy, banner-tailed hajin, Mary Stuart. Elderly 
 people fcell me that Piers is a passable replica of Papa 
 as he appeared when he first gladdened Turkey with 
 his presence. From that I gather that Papa at twenty- 
 five was a jolly little fellow with a hay-soloured 
 moustache and sun-tanned features all habitually 
 twisted inextricably in a prepossessing grin. 
 
 All the European women had turned out, together 
 with many of the Chaldaean community, and Madame 
 Henriot of the Louvre Expedition. They all enthused 
 over Evelyn and gushed over me, and passed us round 
 and kissed us until I felt like the Testament circulating 
 round the jury-box. We did not mind it. The Persian, 
 Chaldaean, and Arab men, and M. Henriot kissed Papa, 
 and we hoped he did not mind it either. Then the 
 village priest conveyed us to his house for lunch, 
 and I sat between a Chaldsean Bishop and Mrs. Carle- 
 ton of the British Consulate, and felt I was at home 
 again. 
 
 " The Vali could not come," Mrs. Carleton apologised. 
 " Dozens of other people, too. But of course, my dear, 
 you cannot expect a large meeting-party if you come 
 at the unhealthy season. Best grapes are five pounds a 
 piastre," she added in the same breath. " And cucum- 
 bers a penny a dozen." 
 
 " Verily, Mas' Allah, it hath been a most blessed 
 season for the fruit and gram, Rathia Khatoun," the 
 Bishop added. Madame Henriot snatched the chance 
 to inform me that it had also been a blessed season for 
 Assyriology. 
 
 "For us, that is, chere Mademoiselle Jerningham,"
 
 We Reach Home 229 
 
 she supplemented. ' Your poor cousin informs us he 
 has had no luck we are desolate for him ! " 
 
 Madame Henriot was only a few years my senior, 
 small, sallow, and fearfully clever. She was the Louvre 
 Expedition, as she owned a natural aptitude, denied to 
 her husband, for picking up epithets which Arabs do 
 not like, wherewith to goad diggers into doing a winter 
 morning's work in a summer noon. She proceeded to 
 dilate on what they had netted for the Louvre that 
 year, and to pity Piers, cattishly. It would have been 
 exasperating if I had not had thoughts of my hidden 
 trump ace the Hittite spoil donated by the Khanoum 
 Effen', to sustain me. The Louvre and Oxford Ex- 
 peditions were in the same line of business precisely, 
 and between them professional jealousy ran fierce and 
 high. In private we exchanged Punch and Figaro, 
 joined in getting up picnics, and nursed one another 
 when it was necessary ; but any one member of either 
 party would have poisoned all the other expedition, 
 with pleasure, over the ownership of a promising site. 
 The unwritten law of Assyriology is that once an 
 archceologist, properly licensed, has started work on 
 a mound it becomes his freehold, and no rival may put 
 a spade into it without his permission. The French had 
 been ransacking an excellent mound that year, while 
 the one we had left Piers to work had yielded nothing 
 worth the packing. 
 
 I knew my hair bristled as I reminded myself that 
 my foot was on my native heath again, that, like the 
 skull whereof Sa'adi sings, by birth and breed 
 
 M I was King of the Two Great Rivers, I was Babylonia's Lord." 
 
 In short, that I had all Assyria before me wherein to 
 search for the wherewithal to blacken the face of the 
 Louvre Expedition. And life is very desirable when
 
 230 We Reach Home 
 
 one has an enemy to work against and to humiliate in a 
 friendly and Christian manner. 
 
 Early evening saw us on the way again in a fairy 
 world carved out of amber and lying under a canary- 
 coloured sky, lit by a throbbing, rayless, orange sun. 
 We did no outrage to the poetry of the scene as we 
 cantered along in a cloud of yellow dust, a picturesque 
 cavalcade, prim, trim Europeans and gorgeous Oriental 
 notables at the head, behind a dancing, gesticulating 
 press of Arabs and Chaldseans on foot, or horseback, 
 or camelback. By our road flowed arrowy Tigris, 
 its golden banks reflected, golden, in its lapping 
 depths, dark-hulled and golden-sailed boats, heaped 
 with yellow grain or tawny limestone, floating slowly 
 on its scintillating ripples, the scorched plains dimpling 
 up and down around, all varied shades of gold and 
 amber, and in front a huddle of hills, near and distant, 
 peaking up yellow and violet in broken streaks. 
 
 A golden country. A country with a past of gold 
 and a future that may yet be golden. Ah, my Land 
 of the Two Great Rivers where all Life and Time 
 began ! 
 
 As we progressed I forged ahead with Piers and 
 Evelyn, Piers trying to make Evelyn remember the 
 landmarks as we passed them. Mrs. Carleton and the 
 Bimbashi of our escort followed, the rest of the caravan 
 was hidden by our tail-cloud of dust. In time two vast 
 mounds detached themselves from the line of the distant 
 hills, and stabbed up close before us. The one, steep-sided 
 and flat of top, was Kouyunjik, famed Kouyunjik, 
 the Shambles Mount where early explorers unearthed 
 half the sacked and fire-scorched palaces of inhumed 
 Nineveh. The other, Nebbi Younus, the Virgin Mound, 
 distinguished by the dome above the tomb of the Prophet 
 Jonah, which stands near the top, and, by making the 
 pile holy ground, has kept it inviolate from pick and
 
 We Reach Home 231 
 
 spade ; yea, even when Rassam's oriental mind planned 
 and Rassam's oriental tongue blarneyed for permission 
 to ransack it ever so respectfully. 
 
 Then we went up a dip, and, lo, before us Tigris full 
 of craft and on the opposite bank a fairy line of wall. 
 And beyond the wall and reflected with it in the yellow 
 water clustered trees and houses, and gilt-splashed 
 Musjid domes, and leaning minarets a-plenty, and the 
 gaping, black Water Gate, and the mixed black and 
 green of the cucumber gardens established at the wall- 
 foot in the mud left by the shrunken autumn river, 
 and in short, every well-loved, well-remembered detail 
 of old Mosul. 
 
 We let the rest of the party take care of themselves ; 
 giving Arjamand a word of Arabic, I led the other four 
 down at a breakneck pace. A gallop, with thunder 
 underfoot, over the creaking bridge of boats, a spattering 
 exchange of words with the Wardens of the Gate, a rush 
 through resounding, dark-arched bazaars and sunlit 
 lanes to the accompaniment of greetings to Mosuleani 
 Khatoun, a low gateway, and a big courtyard, cloistered 
 and blazoned. 
 
 White walls, dark-arched gate, my own doves fluttering 
 about lightning flashes as they skimmed through sun 
 from shade to shade scraps of red evening sky shivering 
 between the branches of the poplars and sycamores, 
 the court floor a shifting network of broken shade and 
 palpitating scraps of light. And the servants swarming 
 round so eagerly that I could not step down from the 
 mounting-block, but must needs stand elevated and 
 introduce Evelyn to them, for all the world like a heathen 
 priestess showing off her patron goddess. And Evelyn 
 sat on her tall horse, and the elder folk cried, " The 
 Khatoun Effen' is come again 1 " 
 
 Khatoun Effen' still meant the dear girl's mother to 
 them. They wept aloud as they kissed the dusty hem
 
 232 We Reach Home 
 
 of her skirt, and her boots, and she almost cried too, and 
 laughed for pure joy, and stammered gracious words 
 in her halting Turkish. The greybeard steward would 
 have her step on his back instead of the block ; I led her 
 in, and AlhamduTllah ! we were home again !
 
 Chapter II 
 
 A VIRGIN TEL ? 
 
 THE nicest thing about the East is the way you can 
 go off for a few months or years and return to pick up 
 life just where you left it off. We might have been 
 away a night alone, as I told myself after I had gone 
 over the house from roof to serdab. My Van cats and 
 date -nightingales were making the place melodious in 
 their degrees, the household corps was going about 
 its duty like clockwork, mosque doves, beggars, and 
 stray cats still made our court their common rendezvous 
 and waited patiently for the crumbs from our table. 
 Our Baghdadi head-cook's English had shed none of 
 its evidences of acquirement in a cafe much frequented 
 by sailors, and I had scarcely time to take off my hat 
 before Sulti dragged Gauriel Junior before me, by the 
 ear, on a charge of petty pilfering. 
 
 I only realised that we had been away half a year, 
 and a crowded half-year at that, when the litter of 
 puppies which we had left, tiny and blind, and feebly 
 crawling in a basket, were brought to greet me, big and 
 deep-voiced, by the proud mother. 
 
 Every one called. My women friends in troops : the 
 Moslemahs anxious to see Evelyn and to know how 
 the Padishah looked when I was presented to him ; the 
 Christians anxious to see Evelyn and to know if 
 Langtry fringes were still the wear in Europe. Sheikhs 
 of far-off hamlets called with accounts invariably 
 8* 233
 
 234 A Virgin Tel ? 
 
 apocryphal of Assyrian ruins in their close vicinity. 
 We were all kept busy, and Evelyn was worshipped. 
 The Christians made parties in our honour, the stiffest 
 Imaum had a greeting for Papa, and the day after our 
 arrival our Moslem butcher killed a sheep in the road 
 before our gate and gave the meat to the poor, in 
 accordance with a vow he had made for our safe return. 
 
 Only the tremendous luck of the Louvre Expedition 
 was the crumpled rose-leaf. How we could have held 
 up our heads without the aid of the signets from 
 Kalmaru I do not know. Hittite remains were not so 
 popular or well understood in those days ; still, Papa 
 was overjoyed to send them at once to the Fund Com- 
 mittee in Oxford, after a few days' triumphal exhibi- 
 tion in Mosul. I was glad when they went. I could 
 not set eyes on them without writhing inwardly at 
 thought of my suspicions of the donor. 
 
 Now Piers had been conducting operations, as before- 
 mentioned, in a mound which had yielded only disap- 
 pointment so far. One morning, about a week after 
 our arrival, the first passable find was unearthed: an 
 inscribed mace-head of Esarhaddon. The mound was 
 on the flank of Kouyunjik, a mounted Arab brought the 
 news, we all rode out to see the treasure and where it 
 was found, and, to celebrate the discovery, we gave the 
 workers a day's extra pay and promised to send over 
 sheep for a feast at night. In pure gratitude and 
 affection our men, Arab and Chaldaean, flung down 
 pick and spade and wasted some work-hours over 
 escorting us home in state. They danced all the way, 
 firing off their guns by spurts, and the townsfolk thought 
 the Bedouin had taken the city, until they discerned 
 us in the midst of the excited Beni-Ismail and distin- 
 guished the words of the impromptu chant to which 
 they timed their gyrations. 
 
 " Allah Hu 1 " they sang, " We be the children of
 
 A Virgin Tel ? 235 
 
 Shishman Jernigan Pasha, and of Mosuleani Khatoun, 
 and of Piers Blessington Agha ! Matches in his beard 
 who contradicts us 1 Allah Hu ! Shishman Jernigan is 
 fat ; under his shadow we live 1 Mosuleani Khatoun 
 hath red hair ; it is a beacon whereto the wise and in- 
 dustrious flock ! The hair of the sister of Mosuleani 
 Khatoun is golden ; it is as plentiful as the gold her 
 father bestows on his men ! Allah Hu ! we be the wise, 
 we be the industrious, the wise of the Two Rivers be 
 we ! We will eat sheep, we will arise and uncover the 
 Jinn images wrought by the Kafirun of old, even we 
 will uncover them ! We will send them unto the land 
 of the Franks, even unto Frankistan will we send them, 
 that Sultana Victoria may say her Salat before them 
 on the Nazarene praying-day ! " 
 
 After executing a short set dance in the courtyard 
 they swarmed back to work. We inspected the find 
 in the drawing-room. " The first museum piece this 
 year," said Piers, with the air of one who has dropped 
 a medjidieh and picked up a beshlik, and is trying to 
 find an uncovenanted mercy about it. 
 
 " Museum piece, Piers ? " said Evelyn, who had for- 
 gotten all she ever knew of business during her Western 
 sojourn. 
 
 He hastened to enlighten her. He was always eager 
 to give her information. Papa thought it was because, 
 the dear boy being but an indifferent hand at Assyri- 
 ology at the time, he was glad to find somebody he 
 could inform. I had my suspicions, even at that early 
 date. Now he explained that Museum Piece is a trade 
 term for arms, statues, votive images, and the like, as 
 distinguished from inscriptions. Inscribed tablets are 
 what the Assyriologist is seriously concerned in finding j. 
 from them scholars are now rebuilding the history,, 
 life, literature, and magic of the elder world. It is. 
 advisable to keep an eye lifting (such was his graceful
 
 236 A Virgin Tel ? 
 
 expression) for museum pieces, however. Unless you 
 can read them, inscribed tablets are not inordinately 
 exciting to the exoteric eye they suggest badly shaped 
 buns and shortbread ; but any one can feel the romance 
 of arms and sculptures three, four, or eight thousand 
 years old. If you get together a neat little collection 
 for exhibition in London the British public comes to 
 gape, the newspapers print nice articles about you, 
 people realise you are doing something tangible, and 
 subscribe to your Fund. 
 
 This is the sordid side of Assyriology, the divine 
 science of grave-ransacking imperially. When Piers 
 had got thus far Sheikh Salih was announced. 
 
 We continually keep a whole corps of scouts tracking 
 'tween rivers. Some of them are salaried, some honorary, 
 and only to be rewarded by words and gifts of European 
 trinkets. In the paid list are village headmen, lesser 
 Arab Sheikhs, and other little great men of divers 
 localities. In the unpaid are our personal friends and 
 the Henriots' private enemies, military officers, a 
 French monk who picks up much information on his 
 pastoral rounds to Chaldsean Catholic villages, a pic- 
 turesque Arab who has haunted the country for years, 
 clad in rags and with a chain round his neck said rags 
 and chain being safe-conduct to him anywhere, as 
 official sign of his mission to beg enough piastres to 
 liquidate the fine for a manslaughter he had the mis- 
 fortune to commit once upon a time and big Sheikhs 
 like Salih. 
 
 Salih is a Shammar, a son of the desert who finds it 
 necessary to fill his nostrils with cotton-wool when he 
 enters a town. As the height of compliment, he removes 
 it when entering our house. He was now shown in, a 
 stately, muscular, middle-sized man of thirty, stalking 
 king-like in his flowing blue and khaki cloak. A silver- 
 bordered, silver-tasselled kefiyeh strapped by a horse-
 
 A Virgin Tel ? 237 
 
 hair band round his forehead shaded eagle eyes, fea- 
 tures thin to the bone, and the tint of bog-oak, and an 
 orderly straggle of black elf-locks. 
 
 We gave him coffee and a pipe. Evelyn was intro- 
 duced, and I made kind inquiries after his wife and 
 children. The task of asking about the health of the 
 lady would have been a difficult one if I had not taken 
 the precaution of asking Piers beforehand for her 
 name. Our Sheikh was rich as Arabs go, and he had 
 a settled habit of getting married once a month, divorc- 
 ing the spouse of the previous moon first ; % thus five 
 wives had intervened between the present one and the 
 one I had known when I last met the family. The 
 business done, he remarked that he had come to cure 
 his sight of a long-standing complaint by contempla- 
 tion of our long-missed features. He had received 
 information that he could do so from the virtuous 
 Henriot Agha. He met the virtuous Henriot Agha in 
 a little village between Tekrit and the Jebel Hamrin. 
 
 Here he stroked his beard and looked like an Arab 
 who could an 5 he would. " I wonder what business 
 carried M. Henriot to so far a spot ? " said Papa, 
 hintingly. 
 
 " Inshallah, the excellent Agha told me of his busi- 
 ness," the Arab returned. *' It was by Allah's will 
 that he met me as he returned from inspecting a Tel 
 at the south-western end of the Jebel, by name Tel 
 Abou Khatoun." 
 
 " It's on the Chesney map," said Papa to me ; " both 
 Place and Rawlinson marked it as of no use." 
 
 " So likewise did the virtuous Henriot Agha express 
 himself to me," said Salih. He understood English. 
 
 I suppose I started as perceptibly as Papa did. 
 Salih proceeded : "It was three noons ago that we 
 met. Having so spoken to me he set out for Mosul. 
 Then did the headman of the village beg me to convey
 
 238 A Virgin Tel 
 
 a little gift to thee, O Jerningham Pasha. The name of 
 the man is Mahmoud Ibn Youmis, and he is indebted 
 to thee, Jerningham Pasha, for thy services when he was 
 in Mosul jail over a tax-matter. His village is named 
 Khatounabad, and is the nearest inhabited spot to Tel 
 Abou Khatoun, whence he procured the gift." 
 
 He craved permission to call his attendant; the 
 attendant lugged in a large package, and when Piers 
 had hacked off its sackcloth wrappings and revealed 
 the headman's gift we were like people struck dumb 
 the two of us who understood. Papa tilted it about 
 in the light and I traced the arrow-shaped characters 
 on it, while Salih smiled indulgently and tried his 
 English on Evelyn, and Piers looked over our shoulders 
 in respectful silence. 
 
 " A door-socket ! " said Papa at last, with sparkling 
 eyes. " If one could only read Cuneiform like print ! 
 But I make out the name is Asshur Dan, son of Ninib 
 Apil Ashara. At the south-western end of the Jebel 
 Ilamrin, Rathia 1 " 
 
 " I believe we are on the track of another Khorsabad ! " 
 I returned exultantly. 
 
 " May Allah send the prey 1 " said Salih, rising to go. 
 
 " We are in thy debt, and we will meet, Inshallah, 
 at Khatounabad," said Papa, as we exchanged parting 
 greetings. 
 
 " Another Khorsabad ? " he repeated, when we were 
 alone. 
 
 " M. Henriot " said Piers dampingly. 
 
 " Mounds have been snatched as well as found," I 
 retorted. " Remember Kalah Shergat. And Rassam 
 lost Abou Habba for lack of a day's cheek. Let me see 
 Monsieur may have got here last night. Call Gauriel, 
 Piers." 
 
 Gauriel, eldest hope of our Deacon, and my general 
 factotum, came. Take this piastre, child," I said;
 
 A Virgin Tel ? 239 
 
 ** with it buy a melon for thyself, and if thou art de- 
 sirous of sharing it, like a good, unselfish boy, with 
 Henriot Khatoun's foot-boy, thy bosom friend, why 
 should I mind ? " 
 
 He took the coin with an intelligent grin. His 
 friendship with Madame's footboy was a trade asset. 
 Each youth was bribed by his mistress to pump the 
 other regularly. And each knew the other's orders, 
 and knew he knew he knew them too. " Be back 
 within half an hour and bring his soul with thee. If 
 thou permittest him to foist any lies on thee we will 
 detect them later, and Piers Ei'fendi shall whip thee," 
 Papa added. 
 
 Papa and Piers can never eradicate their ingrained 
 Caucasian candour. It takes a touch of oriental blood 
 to enable you to instruct a spy to go spying gracefully. 
 Gauriel looked distressed at this European crudeness, 
 murmured, " To lie is the salt of a man, but only a 
 fool believes," and departed. We filled in time by 
 locating the Tel on the map. 
 
 " About five miles from the river," said Papa. *' I 
 vote we raft below the junction of the Zab Asfal, then 
 cut across country." 
 
 I assented. " The Tel is in a desert part. We must 
 take a large number of workers, also provisions. If we 
 ride it will take too long to cross the two Zabs, Eh, 
 Gauriel, thou art dilatory." 
 
 " Ya Khatoun, it take me such a long time to eat 
 that melon-fruit all by myself. You get such a big 
 melon-fruit for a piastre " 
 
 " By thyself, child ? " 
 
 " Ya Kiiatoun, how can I share it with my friend 
 when he is gone with his Khatoun ? To-day they set 
 out-started down the river. Henriot Agha, Henriot 
 Khatoun, and an overseer on a raft, and three gangs of 
 workers following along the bank, Khatoun."
 
 240 A Virgin Tel ? 
 
 " Lost 1 " sighed Papa: 
 
 " If Madame had done the scouting she would have 
 had sense enough to hire a few natives to scratch about 
 the Tel under her command while she sent for proper 
 diggers," I returned. " It appears M. Henriot had not 
 sense enough to do so, or Salih would have heard of it." 
 
 " They started first," croaked Piers. 
 
 " What does that matter ? " I retorted, jumping up. 
 The glow of battle tingled through me and lifted the 
 short curls on my temples. " We'll cut them out ! " 
 
 " We cannot race them openly, my dear," Papa 
 objected. 
 
 " We are not going to," I returned. " We'll keep 
 out of sight behind them, with a mounted spy ahead to 
 warn us if we seem in danger of overhauling them. 
 When they land we will land too, and cut round to the 
 Tel by a different way. You must send at once to 
 Kouyunjik for Hajji Izzett ; he knows that district and 
 will do for safe-conduct as well. A virgin Tel ? It's 
 too strange for fiction, it must be true."
 
 Chapter III 
 
 THE RACE BEGINS 
 
 WE scattered to the four quarters of Mosul in haste. 
 Gauriel the Young flew post to the mound hard by 
 Kouyunjik to summon his father, Hajji Izzett, and a 
 company of trusted workers. Papa went to the Konak 
 to beg an escort. The steward ordered provisions for 
 delivery at the landing-stage. Sulti packed. Evelyn 
 and I accompanied Piers to the river, and stood on the 
 bank looking on while he bargained fiercely on the 
 pebble beach with a gang of kelekjis for a large kelek 
 which they had just finished. 
 
 The kelek, or Tigris raft, is a simple affair : a platform 
 of poles and bamboos buoyed on inflated sheepskins. 
 For passenger use little cabins are built on it, and it will 
 bear you safely down-stream so long as you do not run 
 into the bank, or scrape over a sunken rock and burst 
 the skins. It is identical with the craft that conveyed 
 the stones and sculptures to the palaces of Nineveh 
 and Asshur when they were a-building, thirty centuries 
 ago. You can see them represented on the Khorsabad 
 and Kouyunjik bas-reliefs, and the modern kelekji 
 inflates the skins in the primitive, lung-power way also 
 pourtrayed in the same works of art : though, of late, 
 a few enterprising workers have discovered the utility 
 of the bicycle-pump. 
 
 It took Piers a long time to come to terms. Before 
 he was done all the waterside workers and loafers had 
 
 241
 
 242 The Race Begins 
 
 drifted round in a dense ring, alternately bawling en- 
 couragement to him and to the rafters. Piers is too 
 gentle and mealy-mouthed for the East ; it was tiring 
 to watch him capering about in the sun, vociferating 
 the best abuse he could bring himself to use. 
 
 " By the bye, Rathia, have you heard that the Hen- 
 riots went down-river this morning ? " asked our 
 Consul, who had come with us. 
 
 " Yes, Godfather, very sudden, wasn't it ? I wonder 
 where they were bound ? " 
 
 He suppressed a grin. " Kim belir ? They were in 
 too great a hurry to tell any one. Seems odd. And, I 
 say, it will look odd if you trot off without telling me 
 where you are bound. Somebody might come inquiring, 
 you know." 
 
 I considered. " Ya my brothers the kelekjis ! " 
 howled Piers. ** Your mothers mocked at morals and 
 your fathers were all fools. And between them ye are 
 mules, and I will not give more than four piastres a 
 head per day ! " 
 
 This showed he was warming up, and the bargain 
 near its end. With my riding-cane I wrote, " Tel 
 Abou Khatoun, near Tekrit," in the air. " If any one, 
 say the French Consular Agent, makes inquiry, you 
 can tell him we have gone to try a mound, but you did 
 not hear the name mentioned by any of us. If he hints 
 that we are trying to cut out the Henriots, remind him 
 they never said where they were bound." 
 
 He chuckled approval : " All right, girls ! " Piers 
 sang out as he ascended the bank, while the crowd 
 melted away noisily : " I've bought the kelek, and it 
 will be ready by Sunset Prayer. You and the Uncle 
 and the Firman can hop off this evening. I'll follow 
 with the men on another craft the fellows are going 
 to knock together. How about horses, Rathia ? " 
 
 *' I've arranged with Mr. Carleton, Pete. He'll let
 
 The Race Begins 243 
 
 us have Alpha, Omega, and Gamma. Hajji Izzett and 
 two grooms will be in charge, with a baggage mule and 
 Arjamand and Sakb led. They will send back warning 
 if we overhaul the French too closely, Evie." 
 
 ** I see. I used to think Assyriology was a simple 
 matter. Now I find it's a Fine Art, a Craft, and own 
 brother to Diplomacy." 
 
 ** And a Sport for Kings," I concluded. " You'll do 
 yet." 
 
 The first kelek party included Papa, Evelyn, and 
 myself, Sulti and young Gauriel, a cook, and the rafters. 
 We made an imposing procession as we rode down, 
 after the noon heat, to the island in the middle of the 
 river where the masonry part of the bridge ends and 
 the continuation, of barges connected by planks, begins. 
 Because our going was sudden, not more than the half 
 of Mosul came to see us off. The kelek was laden with 
 tents and gear, provisions, including some clutches 
 of fowls who made a dolorous racket over their durance 
 vile tied by the legs in pairs without regard to indi- 
 vidual affinities and our private traps. Two canvas 
 cabins had been constructed for us ; an awning served 
 for the men. 
 
 The customary delays incidental to a start in the 
 Orient duly cropped up. Papa had gone up the beach 
 to see the other kelek, and came racing up at the last 
 moment. Arjamand and Mary Stuart had a difference 
 of opinion, and in the course of it my Banou Begum bit 
 the Queen of Scots in the neck and dragged her into a 
 cucumber plat, to the ruin of the crop. The owner 
 blamed us and wanted to hale us before the Kadi until 
 we compensated him. The kelekjis indulged in an 
 eleventh-hour strike for higher pay. Two boxes of eggs 
 and my dressing-case were found stranded on the 
 landing-stage, and slid on board as we cast off, with 
 disastrous results. At last we glided into the current,
 
 244 The Race Begins 
 
 out of hearing of the parting shouts of our friends on 
 the bridge and island. 
 
 The race had begun. Anpl Allah knew what the 
 prize was to be, sore disappointment, or, mayhap, a 
 rival to Telloh and Khorsabad. 
 
 Our autumn evening in the Land of the Two Great 
 Rivers was like a summer afternoon in the West. The 
 roofs, domes, minarets, and trees of Mosul cut, sharp 
 outlined, against the even, greenish sky ; the plains, 
 dotted with black tents, melted into golden haze on 
 the horizon, a tender breeze from the far-off Kurdish 
 hills stirred our hair and fanned our heated cheeks. 
 Soon we were in full current; Mosul slid out of sight 
 behind us. Few other craft were abroad ; the banks 
 were deserted, save where here and there an irrigation 
 machine, bullock or donkey driven, peaked up, gallows- 
 like, at the water's edge. We had- the stream to our- 
 selves in a silence only broken by the splash of the 
 kelekjis' poles and the river's lilting undertone as it 
 flowed with us, splintered into a million glancing, opales- 
 cent ripples. 
 
 The bustle of starting over, I disposed myself on a 
 heap of cushions. Evelyn tethered Semiramis by a 
 long lead, and then sat near the edge to see that the 
 little wretch did not hang herself in the Tigris. Papa 
 settled on a pile of baggage and brought out his briar, 
 Sulti camped discreetly in the background, to keep 
 an eye on Gauriel and the stores. 
 
 " Piers is bringing some one with him,'? announced 
 Papa suddenly. 
 
 " Chefket Bey, eh ? " I suggested. 
 
 Chefket Bey was a somewhat decrepit old Colonel 
 of Nizam who had a chronic commission to keep an 
 eye on us when we went digging, lest we should be 
 tempted to pocket any Kirabu or tombs that belonged 
 by rights to the Stamboul Museum.
 
 The Race Begins 245 
 
 ** He's coming," rejoined Papa, ** but I'm referring to a 
 visitor, a young fellow Piers knew at Oxford. He was 
 travelling down from Tel Keif, stopped to look at the 
 kelek building, recognised Piers, and was introduced. 
 It appears he has a letter of introduction or two for 
 me ; I had to invite him to come. I ventured to say 
 you would be pleased, Rathia." 
 
 " Of course I don't mind. Piers's friends are always 
 nice. What is his name ? " 
 
 " You have me there, my dear. You know my 
 memory for names." 
 
 The dear man can memorise pages of Kassite, Sume- 
 rian, and Hittite dynasty-lists after one reading, but 
 is foggy respecting modern names until they have 
 been well dinned into his mind. " I think it was 
 Henry Williams," he proceeded. " No Harry Williams 
 or William Harries." 
 
 ** Never mind," said I. " What's in a name ? Only 
 a selection from twenty-six letters. Tel Abou Khatoun's 
 the only name for- us at present." 
 
 So we talked Shop ; the bygone glories of Asshur 
 and Kalah and high-walled Babylon, and the older 
 cities behind them in time. We told, because it suited 
 the hour and place, sad stories of the deaths of towns, 
 how invaders swarmed through their streets and 
 palaces, and the wantonly spread fire sucked and bil- 
 lowed to the stars, the very stars above us now, and 
 
 " The great walls clashed together, and all mean and lowly thinga 
 The death by fire confounded with the tokens of its kings" 
 
 until we, the magicians whom men term Assyriolo- 
 gists, lay them bare to the sun again, and read from 
 them romances more wonderful in their truth than any 
 fairy-tale, and grander than all the made-up epics of 
 the world.
 
 246 The Race Begins 
 
 Day died. The flash-like Eastern twilight died. We 
 moored until the moon swept out at fall futo the un- 
 clouded sky, then forged on again ; the kelek swaying, 
 with undulating, lazy dips of stern or bows, in mid- 
 channel, or sliding with a subdued wriggling rush down 
 the long, gently-sloping Tigris cataracts. 
 
 Rapid, even motion down a stream of steel, pearl- 
 flecked and cutting through a land all vivid black and 
 white in the moonlight. A cool, following breeze, banks 
 gliding back to meet it ; sharp-cut, black, or moon- 
 silvered as they were high or low, a breathless, airy 
 silence around ; over all a sky of dull blue velvet blazoned 
 with great, flickering stars. There may be, short of 
 Paradise, some more ethereal pleasure than a raft 
 voyage down the Tigris, but I doubt it. 
 
 The hush was scarcely affected by the sound of the 
 poles, dipping rhythmically to the tune of a chanty 
 sung in a whisper, a chant which the sailors of Sen- 
 nacherib probably sang, the same note for note as, 
 his galleys, of Karian pirate build, dropped down that 
 same stream to the beleaguering of Babylon six-and- 
 twenty centuries before. There was nothing to jar, 
 either, in the subdued laughter that drifted down- 
 breeze as the men shared out the stock of a tobacco- 
 pedlar which we had bought for them on the bridge ; 
 the shore noises ; the rustle of an occasional palm, the 
 less frequent whinny of a desert horse, now and then 
 a jackal's sharp, crackling bark, only intensified the 
 hush. When the banks were low we could see the 
 wastes stretching to the invisible meeting-line of earth 
 and sky; a lone irrigation machine, quiet for the night, 
 stuck up infrequently; at whiles the aromatic, melan- 
 choly scent of burnt and crushed wormwood was blown 
 to us in intangible puffs of wind. 
 
 Night was big and mysterious, and we were little 
 and just as mysterious to ourselves. Evelyn, much
 
 The Race Begins 247 
 
 impressed, crept near to me to hold my hand and feel 
 some one alive to her grasp in the vast breathy empti- 
 ness. Semiramis, even, ceased to be a tiresome little 
 animal, and became Little Sister Dog, sister to sweet 
 Saint Francis of Assisi and to me, when she rested a 
 woolly little head on my arm. 
 
 Anon the dewfall drove us to our cabins, and, to 
 exemplify how the Prosaic sits ever at the gate of Poesy, 
 the temperature fell below freezing-point during the 
 night, and Sulti arosethree several times to pile additional 
 rugs on us and murmur libels on the female progeni- 
 tors of the Clerk of the Weather, and the dew soaked 
 through everything short of macintosh blankets. 
 
 ** Allah made the heat and the cold, the rain and 
 the drought," was Sulti's final summary; " but, verily, 
 Eblis's self made weather."
 
 Chapter IV 
 
 AN UNHAPPY MEETING 
 
 WE stuck on a sandbank during the night, and so lost 
 several hours. A glistering sun-and-breeze-freshened 
 morning found us running finely, with the cone of 
 Nimroud ; where lie embedded all the orts of the 
 buildings of Shalmanesar and Asshur-nazir-Pal which 
 our former excavators have not sent to the museums 
 of Europe, rising into view in the ground-mist ahead. 
 The banks were more alive now in spots, sounds of 
 active country life drifted from the black tents on the 
 plains, irrigation machines groaned and squeaked 
 complainingly, in distance cattle lowed. Women came, 
 pitcher on head, to the river-brink, and men to water 
 the horses ; a half at least had a yell or a gesture of 
 recognition for Shishman Jerningham's portly, linen- 
 clad form and Mosuleani Khatoun's red hair. By early 
 breakfast-time we had reached the lonely stretch of 
 river just before you gain Nimroud, running between 
 banks bright with a belt of mustard plants along the 
 moist margin of the tide and topped by a dismal fes- 
 tooning of dry, burnt, tangled skeletons of pansy and 
 convolvulus. 
 
 Papa fretted abominably about the sandbank delay. 
 I think it is not short of impious to think you can affect 
 the scrawling of the Moving Finger by worrying. Evelyn 
 showed a tendency to follow his bad example, and was 
 peevish when I made myself comfortable on the cushions. 
 
 248
 
 An Unhappy Meeting 249 
 
 *' My dear, I think I was the most energetic of the tribe 
 when energy was wanted," I remonstrated. " When 
 we sight our Tel I'll tire you out ; meantime I will con- 
 serve my strength and enjoy life on my back until 
 work-time comes round. And you'll do the same if 
 you will be guided by me ; it will do you good and will be 
 so much nicer for me." 
 
 And I got out my Tennyson and tried to induce Papa 
 to leave his Chesney charts and listen while I read the 
 never-to-be-hackneyed stanzas : 
 
 " When the breeze of a joyful dawn blew free 
 In the silken sail of infancy, 
 The tide of time flow'd back for me, 
 
 The forward-flowing tide of time ; 
 And many a sheeny summer-morn, 
 Adown the Tigris 1 was borne, 
 For it was in the golden prime 
 
 Of good Haroun Alraschid. . . ." 
 
 At that point the morning calm was split by an 
 appalling detonation ahead, followed by a series of lesser 
 ones. Papa abandoned Chesney surveys, Evetyn looked 
 puzzled, Semiramis went to the front and barked at the 
 noise, the rafters looked sympathetic, Gauriel and Sulti 
 joined me in a gleeful laugh. 
 
 "Bank her, my brothers!" I called to the kelekjis 
 *' Papa, I will give you six to one in half-dozens of riding 
 gauntlets that the Frogs have tried to pass El Awayi 
 without unloading." 
 
 " I never bet, as you know, my dear, and I agree with 
 you too," he replied. 
 
 El Awayi anglice The Roarer is a broken wall of 
 iron-clamped stones, the remains of an Assyrian dam, 
 across the river-bed. In spring rafts can pass over it 
 all standing; in autumn and winter, when the stream 
 is low, they should be lightened and at that half the 
 skins are usually spoilt. We could not see down the
 
 250 An Unhappy Meeting 
 
 river, as it made an abrupt turn there, but we had 
 scarcely gained the bank when the well-known form of 
 Gamma cantered up with Hajji Izzett standing hi the 
 stirrups and gesticulating in wild delight. The French 
 had attempted to shoot the obstruction fully laden, their 
 raft was a wreck, the skins all ripped up, and the remains 
 beached on a sand-bank. They could not proceed any 
 farther by water. 
 
 " You have lost those gloves, Papa ! " I cried, exulting. 
 
 " I have told you I never bet, child " 
 
 " Oh Papa, denying your debts of honour 1 What an 
 example fo'r Evie 1 I will save you from yourself by 
 ordering them at Mosul and having the bill sent to you. 
 Now I suppose we must lie low for a while ; the turn of 
 the river and this tamarisk and camel-thorn thicket 
 will hide us effectually." 
 
 The Cook's disciple was despatched with orders to 
 feign himself a youth who had never heard the name of 
 Shishman Jerningham and to sympathise with the Hen- 
 riots' kelekjis. We had almost finished unloading for 
 the passage of El Awayi when he skipped back with 
 information that the French had sent to the nearest 
 villages and Abu Hammad encampments for horses. 
 
 " To the Hamrins by land they cannot possibly 
 outrace us ! " cried Papa. '* The Tel is as good as 
 ours ! " 
 
 " Inshallah ! " I agreed. " I would love to slip round 
 and see how Monsieur's dear little waxed moustache 
 and Madame's back hair look after the ducking, but 
 it is too hot and too risky." 
 
 ** And one cannot have everything in this world," 
 Evelyn consoled. And we turned into our tent, which 
 had been pitched in the shade of the thicket, and took 
 life easily until late afternoon brought our spy back 
 with news that the .trench had started. We were not 
 foolish enough to spoil all by haste, we waited until
 
 An Unhappy Meeting 251 
 
 fresh news came that the French kelekjis had taken the 
 wreck to pieces and had started for the Abou Hammad 
 camp with the skins to wait day for conveying them 
 safely to Mosul again. We then roused up, got the 
 lightened kelek over the dam with but a slender casualty 
 list in the matter of skins, moored, jeeringly, for re- 
 loading below the sand-bank where the last of the wreck 
 lay, and in a couple of hours were en route again. 
 
 We crossed the mouth of the Great Zab that evening, 
 and after that we journeyed for two more nights and 
 one full day. Two chill, soughing, starlit nights and 
 one sunny, wormwood-scented day, and it was like one's 
 idea of Paradise to lie on the cushions from dawn to 
 dewfall under a flapping awning listening to the soft- 
 lapping tide and crisply plashing oars, watching the 
 banks and shoals glide past and the flocks of duck and 
 cormorants with which they were alive rise in hazy 
 clouds at our passing, and feeling the large-minded 
 peace of the East permeating everything as we gained 
 a lonelier and a lonelier land each hour. 
 
 The restful flat banks and shoals impeded us at whiles, 
 and my loafing was punctuated by jars when we 
 happened to run aground. At first Evelyn was a nuis- 
 ance through her ingrained Caucasian fidgetiness. She 
 pottered about with Papa's gun and spoilt the peace 
 and restfulness until she had bagged a brace of duck 
 which were afterwards served at dinner and donated to 
 the boatmen out of regard for our teeth. It took her a 
 good while and many cartridges to make her modest 
 bag ; afterwards she was content to take half the 
 cushions and let me read poetry to her while she took 
 care of a kicked shoulder and arm. As we progressed 
 at first little boys from waterside villages swam out, 
 astride of inflated skins, and had entertaining mishaps 
 as they played about our craft like dolphins and tried 
 to catch the piastres we threw them ; once also, coming
 
 252 An Unhappy Meeting 
 
 round a bend at good speed, we crashed into a caravan 
 which was fording at the other side of the elbow, spilt 
 camels and drivers and loads all about the racing 
 shallows, and went on holding our European ears and 
 apologising in our best Arabic from the stern. In time, 
 however, villages grew fewer and fewer, by the second 
 night we were flanked by desert downland with no more 
 than a cluster of black tents here and there. 
 
 Truly " Apart from Space, withholding Time " is 
 the desert Between the Rivers. As it was in good Al- 
 Raschid's prime it is now, and so will it be for ever, let 
 us hope, an oasis of slow-going, Kismet-ridden shiftless- 
 ness in a world which now moves too fast for peace and 
 poetry 
 
 Late on the second morning we trained our binoculars 
 on Kalah Shergat and told ourselves we would try it 
 to-morrow, Inshallah ! Very early on the third we were 
 wakened by a shock that flung all the moveables in the 
 cabin on top of us. " We are on a sandbank, my Rathia 
 Khatoun," Sulti announced as she picked the baggage 
 off us. " Something bad will happen to-day, it is very 
 unlucky to begin the day with a mishap." 
 
 And we compared contusions, and felt inclined to agree 
 with her until we were dressed and stepped into the 
 dawn-freshness. 
 
 We were in a country, now, of desolate brown-burnt 
 bluffs and hummocky downs ending in a sudden line of 
 hills, mist-footed and dark-topped against the sunrise. 
 And the morning was young and all a-tingle with the 
 autumn freshness, which is sweeter than the spring, 
 and Assyriology and the Tel big with possibilities cried 
 to me, and life and youth stirred Evelyn, and the world 
 was very good. 
 
 *' Somethin' bad will happen to-day, Khatoun,'*
 
 An Unhappy Meeting 253 
 
 wailed Gauriel. " The Cook's-disciple-boy was killin' 
 a fowl-bird when the jar came and the fowl-bird got 
 away and pecked me." 
 
 I focused the glasses on the hills. '* The Jebel 
 Hamrin, Evie. Hajji Izzett, Salamu 'alai-koum, what 
 is yonder pile, like unto a two-pronged hill, between us 
 and the Jebel ? " 
 
 " The Peace of Allah be with you also, Khatoun. 
 That is Tel Abou Khatoun, even the Mound of the 
 Father of the Lady," the Hajji returned. He was now 
 present, the horse-party had dropped out of sight the 
 day before through the necessity of setting their pace 
 by a slight temporary lameness of Alpha and had now 
 overtaken us. 
 
 Evelyn clapped her hands rapturously. " At last ! " 
 she cried. Between us and the Tel was a line of jungle 
 fringing the river-bank, beyond that a nine or ten mile 
 stretch of broken ground, downs, scrub, and patches of 
 small trees. A delightful prospect on a morning young, 
 cool, rosy, and with elixir of energy in every lungful of 
 its thin, acid air. I could have run to the Tel in my 
 boots, Arjamand kicked her groom into the stream with 
 a gracious air and marched down the mud-bank to screw 
 her nose into my collar and tell me, in an epigrammatic 
 whinny, that she was dying for a good steeple-chasing 
 gallop. Papa was in high spirits also. " We are only 
 a little north of the spot at which Izzett would have 
 stopped," he observed, as we strolled about arm-in-arm 
 while he smoked his matutinal cigar. " I doubt if the 
 French can be near the Zab Asfal yet ; not knowing we 
 are on the track, they will not hurry. What is it, 
 Hajji ? " 
 
 The Hajji had come to introduce a Turk wrapped in 
 his own cloak. The Turk was a zaptieh. He was one 
 of four returning to Mosul from escort duty to Samarah ; 
 they had fallen in with some Hammawand Kurds first
 
 254 An Unhappy Meeting 
 
 thing that morning, had been spared their lives, had 
 heard with joy the noises of our landing, and had sent a 
 representative to crave of our grace the loan of a neces- 
 sary garment apiece. This made Papa and our own 
 zaptiehs look serious. I was certain, however, that the 
 Hammawand never would think of coming so far west. 
 
 " The four zaptiehs were probably cruelly beaten by 
 a single footpad, like somebody in Shakespeare," I 
 concluded. 
 
 But the four, being garbed and introduced, stuck to 
 their tale, and our defenders decided that we must 
 proceed with the greatest caution and all together to 
 the Tel. 
 
 It was rather a damper. *' The fowl-bird pecked me, 
 that Arjamand horse-rnare kicked me, and I have 
 broken two bottles of the Bass beer-drink ! " sighed 
 Gauriel to himself, as he set forth our breakfast in an 
 open tent. " This is an unlucky day. Ya, Khatoun, 
 I do believe the French have got another kelek ! " 
 
 He pointed up-river. A large raft shot round a bend, 
 in front two white-clad Europeans stood, behind them 
 two-score Arabs in a state of frantic excitement made 
 the hushed river suddenly vocal with the Jebour war- 
 cry. Numerous poles and paddles were urging it on 
 at such a speed that it could not be checked as it darted 
 round the curve. Catching our stranded raft with its 
 port forward corner, it swung round and was beached 
 high on the mud. 
 
 With the shock the Arabs collapsed in a huddle, the 
 two leaders saved themselves by a jump on shore and 
 advanced to us raising their topis. 
 
 Piers was the foremost. The other was Harvey 
 Wilbur.
 
 Chapter V 
 
 FATE 
 
 FOR a moment the sun left the sky and the tang went 
 from the morning air. I tried to disbelieve my eyes, but 
 my ears corroborated their evidence but too surely. 
 
 "Hullo, Rath!" said Piers, cheerfully loud. "You 
 don't look up to the mark. Is it from sorrow at not 
 beholding your pet, Chefket ? He's laid up ; nothing 
 serious. A locum tenens will be to hand later on; 
 meanwhile let me introduce my friend Wilbur, Harvey 
 Wilbur of Yenghi Dunia. Wilbur, my cousin, Miss 
 Jerningham." 
 
 The American's air was composed. Only his smile 
 was a little set, and his face was violently red under its 
 coating of sunburn. I gave him a frigid bow, tendered 
 the tips of my fingers, arid withdrew my hand before he 
 could touch it. Piers noted nothing amiss; he was 
 absorbed in greeting Evelyn. She had just run up, and 
 Papa followed. 
 
 " Delighted to see you looking so fit, Mr. eh 
 Harries," said Papa. 
 
 " Wilbur, sir," laughed Piers. " Rathia, you intro- 
 duce Evelyn, there's a good girl, while I tell the uncle 
 the news. The Frogs forded the Zab Asfal yesterday 
 morning, Uncle. " 
 
 " Hey ? " 
 
 " Fact, sir. We had it from a katerji whom we ran 
 across, literally, at some shallows round a bend. We 
 
 255
 
 256 Fate 
 
 gave him fair words and tuppence-ha'penny, and got 
 all the news in exchange. They will, with bad luck 
 to us, reach the Tel this afternoon." 
 
 " Let them," replied Papa grimly. '* We'll reach it 
 soon after breakfast." 
 
 " A visitor is a welcome variant in our somewhat 
 lonely life," said Papa pleasantly, when we took our 
 seats in the tent. An unusual silence had fallen. Piers 
 was attending severely to cucumbers and chicken, 
 Evelyn was stuffing Semiramis as a preliminary to less 
 serious business. I was waiting for the new arrival to 
 give a lead, and the new arrival was dumb. " Most 
 welcome, eh, Rathia ? " Papa added with emphasis. 
 
 I looked over the American's head, and agreed that 
 it was very agreeable to see a visitor from the West 
 
 " Wilbur is from the north," said Piers. 
 
 " From the north ? " I repeated. Actually it had 
 not occurred to me until that moment that a most 
 awkward complication was involved by the present 
 meeting. Thoughts of the Rue de Pera and the wood 
 of Sliwa KLissia had actually caused me to forget my 
 insufficient explanation of the Bitfa affair. My mind 
 worked rapidly. Of course the American had done the 
 worst possible thing ; it was evident he had suppressed 
 all mention of it, otherwise Piers would have been 
 babbling hard over the tasty bit of information. All 
 this went through my brain in the moment it took me 
 to look up at him. I caught his eye and in the glance 
 a glorious piece of comfort was granted to me. In his 
 eyes I read that he realised he had made an unmitigated 
 blunder, and knew that I alone could retrieve it. 
 
 " You have come down from the north recently, 
 have you not, Miss Jerningham ? " he said tentatively. 
 
 " Yes," replied I. " And I know why you asked, 
 Mr. Wilbur. I am how shall I put it ? the distressed 
 lady to whom you afforded sanctuary at Bitfa."
 
 Fate 257 
 
 The other three left off doing whatever they were 
 doing to sit up and look at me with round eyes. " Yes," 
 I proceeded, " I had a vague impression, directly you 
 landed, that we had met before, Mr. Wilbur." 
 
 " I had the same idea respecting you, Miss Jerning- 
 ham," he replied. " The only difference is that I was 
 sure." 
 
 " Papa," I explained, " you'll remember that, 
 owing to a row over which I had not too much control, 
 I was detected for a Christian and compelled to take 
 refuge for a short time in the house of the old Gascon 
 gentleman at Bitfa. I also mentioned, I believe, that 
 the owner was out and had left one of his friends in 
 charge. Mr. Wilbur was the person in question." 
 
 " How deuced odd ! " said Papa. " You never men- 
 tioned Mr. Wilbur, Rathia, and he had letters of intro- 
 duction " 
 
 " But we were not introduced to one another " I 
 
 began. 
 
 " Well, Rath, you are a remarkable person if you need 
 introductions when you are in danger of being mas- 
 sacred," said Piers. Evelyn was ominously silent. 
 
 " Miss Jerningham means, Blessington, that we were 
 too busy to bother about names," Mr. Wilbur said. 
 " I only learnt her surname through hearing her give 
 it to the Mutessariff just before we went our several 
 ways, and I had no reason for connecting it with Pro- 
 fessor Jerningham at the time." 
 
 Piers and Papa looked equally bewildered. I dare 
 not say anything more for fear of protesting too much. 
 The American was in a similar case. Even changing 
 the subject at that point would have looked odd. Un- 
 expected relief came. 
 
 " If you ask my opinion," said Evelyn judicially, " I 
 think Rathia is a well-plucked J un." 
 
 " My dear child ! " Papa remonstrated 
 9
 
 258 Fate 
 
 " Respectable language is not equal to it," she replied. 
 " If I'd gone through that Bitfa affair I'm sure I would 
 have been too frightened to notice whether my rescuer 
 was a white man or a black woman." 
 
 " Oh, Evie ! " I protested. 
 
 *' Well, I am picking up a little taste for hyperbole, 
 perhaps," she conceded. " To put it quietly, I'm sure 
 I should not have kept sufficient command of myself 
 to remember what Mr. Wilbur looked like and recognise 
 him long after." 
 
 " I don't think you do yourself justice," said I. *' I 
 am sure you would have rather enjoyed the experience." 
 
 " Well " she could not restrain a delightful little 
 smirk " at least it would have been something for 
 my diary." 
 
 " Do you keep a diary ? " asked Piers, with interest. 
 And, most happily, the conversation was diverted to 
 a new channel. 
 
 We soon finished breakfast, and plunged into the in- 
 variable accompaniment of haste in the Orient a 
 strike. The men ran to and fro and swarmed distractedly 
 about Papa. " Ya, Shishman Jerningham Agha ! Ya, 
 our father ! We are your children, and you are our 
 father and our mother ! " they wailed. " We will 
 follow you to Kaf and Kaf, we will follow you to An 
 Nar but we do not desire to follow you to Tel Abou 
 Khatoun ! Spare us, spare us, Ya Amm Jamal ! We 
 will perish there; it is a lonely spot La Siwa Hu 
 nothing in Allah's world is worse than loneliness ! And 
 it hath been told in our ears that in the Flower Season 
 of Kubleh's tenth year some Hammawands were spied 
 there Hammawand robbers are worse than loneliness J 
 Spare us, in Name of Allah, or at least give us a piastre 
 a day more pay ! " 
 
 Papa refused, spite of the robbers who had been seen 
 thereabouts in the spring of 1846 A.D. Piers ran to help
 
 Fate 259 
 
 him harden his face to the pleading, and Evelyn fol- 
 lowed to hear and enjoy. Mr. Wilbur came to me as 
 I stood by the river brink a little apart. 
 
 " I had an introduction to your father," he said 
 steadily. " I am sorry to inflict my presence on you, 
 Miss Jerningham " 
 
 " Oh, we often have unexpected guests," I declared 
 politely. 
 
 ** It's very nice of you to temper the wind to the 
 shorn lamb, Miss Haroun " 
 
 " My surname is Jerningham," I interrupted. 
 
 ** 'Beg pardon. Miss Haroun slipped out ; it seems 
 to fit you, and is the name by which I have thought of 
 you " 
 
 ; ' Well, you haven't known me long enough for any 
 name connected with me to be fixed indelibly on your 
 mind. May I ask, by the way, why you compare 
 yourself to a lamb ? " 
 
 He looked at me steadily. ** A shorn lamb, Miss 
 Jerningham. The point lies in the adjective. Since I 
 have been travelling in the East I have had the thick, 
 woolly growth of conceit and self-sufficiency which I 
 brought from home shorn. And now I feel like a 
 clipped lambkin ; chilly and silly, and very young and 
 foolish." 
 
 " A most wholesome frame of mind," I replied, care- 
 fully flicking the dried leaves off a caper shrub with my 
 riding-cane. I did not want to look in his eyes any 
 more. I knew he was apologising as far as he dared 
 for the Rue de Pera incident. " So you had a special 
 introduction to my father ? " I said, in a non-com- 
 mittal tone. " You are, perhaps, interested in Assyri- 
 ology ? " 
 
 " There's some talk that the University of South 
 Carolina may fit out an expedition, and I am to spy out 
 the land."
 
 260 Fate 
 
 " Ah, your University is doubtless emulous of the 
 Pennsylvania University's Nuffar triumphs. My father 
 will be charmed to give you all the advice he can, I am 
 sure." 
 
 " I mean to worry his good-nature to distraction, 
 Miss Jerningham. There does not appear to be any 
 dog-in-the-manger business about Assyriology " 
 
 A wild shout cut his sentence short. Piers rushed 
 up, waving his arms. 
 
 " Boot and saddle, you two ! " he shrieked. " Hurry 
 up, for the sake of Tel Abou Khatoun, my children ! 
 Wilbur, you are to have the roan, Alpha. Rathia, don't 
 you hear the row ? The mounted man you sent after 
 the Frogs from El Awayi has come in, and he says they 
 are probably not four hours north-west of the Tel by 
 now i ?!
 
 Chapter VI 
 
 MANY A SLIP- 
 
 WE hurried. The Arabs knew the unspoken object of 
 the trip as well as we did ourselves, and, as they take 
 Assyriology seriously, they dropped the strike when the 
 spy shouted his news, and begged Papa in appealing 
 falsetto to lead them to the Tel, that they might blacken 
 the faces of our rivals and cause them to eat abomina- 
 tion and defeat before the eyes of all Al Jezireh and the 
 farthest dwellers in Irak Arabi. 
 
 The servants and older men were left to bring on the 
 baggage ; the rest of us rushed off, helter-skelter, Piers 
 on Gamma, the American on Alpha, Papa on Omega, 
 and Evelyn on her ugly, sweet-tempered black hajin, 
 Sakb. With us were our pretence escort of three 
 zaptiehs, thirty workmen on foot with pick and basket 
 shouldered, and Hajji Izzett. Arjamand caracoled 
 gaily, as though my weight plus a couple of bags con- 
 taining the firman, Union Jack, and some other need- 
 fuls, was less than nothing, and joyously tried to tempt 
 Sakb to a romp. Howling their war-songs and letting 
 off their firearms, the workmen stampeded after Hajji 
 Izzett into the jungle. We followed with less noise. 
 It was a heavenly morning, with a touch of tartness in 
 the sunbathed air. The morning sun had scarcely warmed 
 the jungle-tangle of dry grass, bushes, and little trees, 
 in deeper hollows dewdrops lingered and gemmed the 
 hoofs of the horses as they brushed through fallen trees. 
 
 261
 
 262 Many a Slip 
 
 Through the scrub the Arabs plunged, driving the 
 natural denizens of the place before them in a panic. 
 Pigeons and francolins rustled in terrified flocks, buzzards 
 scuttled and lizards flashed out of the track, and hares 
 and jackals fled intermixed in frightened droves. I 
 saw two wild boars scurry out of the way, and Piers 
 vows he beheld a lion a real little dark Tigris lion with 
 a claw in the tuft at the tip of his tail run and hide 
 before the onrush. 
 
 Piers headed the men and led the chants. Evelyn 
 accompanied him, such a figure of faery on ugly Sakb ; 
 with a background of swarthy Arab mob and burnt 
 foliage ! Nothing will ever make an Assyriologist of 
 her, any more than anything will do that service for 
 Piers; but she had a born aptitude for learning and 
 loving the works and songs and ways of the live country- 
 folk, and he had the same, and more experience, and 
 loved to teach. So she rode before our chocolate- 
 coloured rabble, and sang the war-chants too, un- 
 ashamedly, and the tame Arabs of the pick and basket 
 remembered that time was when a woman was the 
 natural leader of the hordes of Hejaz and Nejd and 
 Yemen to the conquering of foes, and went frenzied ; 
 as civilised dogs will go frenzied at the call of the jackal 
 pack, with memories of what their forbears were, and 
 would have murdered our rivals if need asked. 
 
 Harvey Wilbur stuck to Papa, who was enacting 
 whipper-in in the rear. Papa expected me to remain 
 with him also, but it was maddening work to keep 
 Arjamand to footmen's pace over the broken ground all 
 webbed with roots and leaf-filled ditches. She was 
 tearing my arms out and quivering with bridled energy 
 like a bundle of springs and fire. " Meet you in the 
 open, dad ? " I cried at last, and gave her her head, 
 spite of his shout of remonstrance. 
 
 The Banu Begum laid herself out, the air sang, the
 
 Many a Slip 263 
 
 trees raced back, we skimmed hollows and jumped fallen 
 trunks, and, diving finally through a network of dried 
 creepers starred with bright green lizards which corked 
 up the end of the path we had taken came into the 
 open on a little rise and reined up. Immediately, with 
 a muffled pounding of hoofs, the American dashed 
 through the creeper screen. 
 
 " Your father told me to escort you, as he cannot 
 leave the men, Miss Jerningham," he said. 
 
 I had actually forgotten his existence for the moment 
 in the joy of the excitement. The sight of him was like 
 a cold douche. "It is unnecessary," I answered, 
 frowning, then the delight of the day overmastered me 
 again and I added, " Since you are here, Mr. Wilbur, 
 what do you say to a race for the honour of being first 
 on the Tel ? The way is plain." 
 
 From our eminence we could see the Jebel Hamrin 
 jutting up against the flushed sky, nearer to us Tel Abou 
 Khatoun's twin points were clearly discernible, and 
 patches of the track leading to it showed as scraps of 
 light-tinted ribbons against the scorched browns and 
 greens on the downland and its sprinkling of jungle 
 patches and scrubby trees. Behind us the remainder 
 of the party still struggled in the jungle ; echoes of their 
 noisy progress drifted out and now and then a frightened 
 hyaena broke cover at the edge or a flight of partridges 
 whirred out of the branches above. 
 
 " It would not be safe to separate from the rest of 
 the party," my companion returned, quietly eyeing the 
 calling road. ' Your father mentioned that some 
 Hammawands " 
 
 " The Hammawands are the Bogy Man's locum 
 tenens hereabouts, Mr. Wilbur. They never come so far 
 west, and at present their most adventurous leader, 
 Aziz Bey, is in Mosul jail waiting to be hung at the 
 Nineveh end of the bridge. If you are afraid, however
 
 264 Many a Slip- 
 
 I mean if you are too much guided by the dictates 
 of prudence to yield to the call of the open road on a 
 young morning, will you at least kindly inform my 
 father where I have gone ? " 
 
 And, after flashing a mocking smile over my shoulder, 
 I dashed down the track. I had not a dozen yards' start 
 before the thunder of Alpha's hoofs was close behind. 
 I whispered half a threat in Arabic into Arjamahd's 
 little prick ears, and made her put on steam. Her 
 dainty shoes scarcely touched the ground between 
 each sliding dart of her tense body, her silken mane 
 lashed my knee, the road flowed like a river in spring 
 spate back under her. And behind a quartette of 
 hoofs thudded steadily and closely and the American 
 shouted calm remonstrances. 
 
 The remonstrances were irritating enough ; the fact 
 that the man was actually keeping Alpha up to 
 Arjamand for a while, and, consequently, extorted my 
 unwilling respect as a fine rider, was maddening. For 
 about the third time in my owning of her A I gave the 
 Banu Begum the spur, and, hoping to shake my pursuer 
 off, turned her into a track which led down a nullah, a 
 nearly dry watercourse, thick-grown with trees and 
 shrubs. The American followed ; he was saving his 
 breath now, but I could hear his whip going strong. 
 Alpha would be pounded soon by the blood of Kubleh. 
 
 Arjamand took the descent sure-footed as a leopard, 
 splashed into the trickle of water in the cool shade at 
 the bottom, and was instantly reined up violently as 
 four mounted figures darted out of the bushes and sur- 
 rounded me. 
 
 Harvey Wilbur, following, dived into the group 
 before he knew it was there. He made a clutch for his 
 hip pocket, but two men pinioned his arms, and within 
 two minutes his thumbs were tied behind his back, and 
 his feet roped together by a cord running under the
 
 Many a Slip 265 
 
 body of his horse. With one of our captors leading 
 Alpha we were soon riding, side by side, along the 
 watercourse, flanked by a guard of four Hammawands. 
 
 They were well enough mounted and all dressed in 
 correct Kurdish costume: baggy shulwari and foal- 
 hair jackets, all much the worse for wear; all wore 
 the vast Kurdish turban and all were armed with 
 Sniders of the latest design. The leader bore a dagger 
 with the hilt decorated with very much flawed tur- 
 quoises, and had the falcon angle of his Kurdish features 
 interrupted 'by a broken nose. He was young; the 
 other three were middle-aged, one aquiline-faced, the 
 remaining two of a strong Tartar cast. 
 
 The American opened his mouth to speak, the chief 
 administered a poke in the ribs with his rifle-butt which 
 reduced him to gasping silence until we had ascended 
 the other side of the nullah. A far-off yell attracted 
 our attention over our shoulders. We saw, far behind, 
 the jungle border and a cluster of figures before it ; of 
 the mounted units I could just distinguish Evelyn by 
 her white habit. Three of the figures made a gesture 
 in concert, three puffs of smoke hid part of them, three 
 sharp barks reached my ears, and three bullets ploughed 
 up three bits of dust from the baked land a good 
 way short of the nullah, two more of the mounted 
 figures rode sharply to the firers, Piers and Papa 
 telling the zaptiehs they might hit me. The Hamma- 
 wands then laughed and lashed the horses, and we set 
 on again at a break-neck gallop. 
 
 For a space we pounded recklessly through wood and 
 scrub and out of all view of the river. I was silent 
 with rage ; this was my own doing, Fate was perpetually 
 putting me in a ridiculous light before Mr. Wilbur. I 
 was glad of a chance to regain command of my startled 
 composure, and, the others being men, talking was out 
 of the question for them until we slackened speed and 
 9*
 
 266 Many a Slip- 
 
 proceeded over a stretch of scorched grass at a more 
 reasonable speed. 
 
 "Good heavens, Miss Haroun, this is a nasty position 1" 
 exclaimed Mr. Wilbur then. 
 
 " My surname is Jerningham," I corrected, tucking 
 up a loosened curl. " This is my fault, I acknowledge ; 
 but you need be under no apprehension at present, we 
 are in no immediate danger. These are Hammawands ; 
 the chief and that tall one real Kurds, the others most 
 probably deserters from the army or outlaws, classes 
 from which the Hammawand tribe is constantly receiv- 
 ing added members ; certainly they are canaille Turks. 
 Most likely we have been taken as exchange for Aziz 
 Bey. What troubles me is that we are riding due south 
 away from Abou Khatoun " 
 
 " Miss Haroun Jerningham, I mean, the idea of 
 your being able to think of Assyriology under the cir- 
 cumstances I It must be your ruling passion. Do 
 you think your father will overtake us ? " 
 
 " Not after our start. As a man of sense he will 
 probably run down river to Tekrit, the nearest tele- 
 graph station, and wire for help to scour the country. 
 And I fear he will forget to send any one to claim the 
 Tel " 
 
 " Ruling Passion ! " he said with the air of one 
 struggling with a psychological problem too stupendous 
 to grasp. 
 
 We had, as we talked, gained an unsheltered plain ; 
 the dry earth gave out the heat it had been storing up 
 through the previous day, the sun's rays beat down 
 hotly, and the sight of our captors sharing round the 
 contents of the bags they had snatched from my saddle 
 was not calculated to have a soothing effect on my 
 temper. The American's pockets hung inside out, his 
 seal-ring, watch, and scarf-pin were gone, and his 
 collar had been torn off when his gold tftuds were
 
 Many a Slip 267 
 
 scrambled for. I had escaped search by handing over 
 all my valuables and the revolver at my waist. They 
 spat on the Union Jack and flung it away for a Chris- 
 tian emblem, the leader took the firman, the others 
 divided my private travelling requisites to the accom- 
 paniment of roars of laughter. The Kurd is viva- 
 cious, and the Turk easily amused ; they extracted much 
 harmless merriment out of the allotment of shares ; the 
 youngest member in particular, having been fobbed off 
 with the puff-box for his share of the treat, after finding 
 by personal experiment that the powder was not sugar, 
 entertained his comrades by turning his iron-coloured 
 mount to a dapple grey by the time the chief addressed 
 Mr. Wilbur. 
 
 He used the Mosuleani dialect. The American shook 
 his head. " The peace of Allah as Salam be on thee 
 and thine, Beg Effendi," I interposed. " I will inter- 
 pret; the Frankish Agha does not comprehend the 
 tongue of the land. And why, O Beg, this foolish 
 doing ? We be scarce worth the plucking, as thou 
 seest." 
 
 " Ye be Turks and we be Hammawands," he returned. 
 The Hammawands have not loved their rulers since the 
 time when, during some small-fry rebellion, a Turkish 
 commandant surrounded their largest camp and turned 
 his soldiery loose on the women and children. 
 
 If I were a Harnmawand I would remember that too. 
 Soothingly I said : " Thou art mistaken, Beg Effen'. 
 We be not Turks Allah forbid ! but folk from the 
 far-off land of the Franks. We harm no man, but hire 
 men to delve in the ground for Written Stones, and our 
 presence is a blessing wheresoever we dwell, for no 
 Turk dareth to lift hand against Kurd, Arab, or Naisri 
 before our eyes. My companion is an Agha from the 
 Frankish land of Yenghi Dunia, and I am by name 
 Rathia, the daughter of the English Agha, Home Jern-
 
 268 Many a Slip 
 
 ingham, who is now a Pasha of the Sultana Victoria 
 of England." 
 
 " It hath been reported in our ears of the doings of 
 ye Diggers of Curious Stones," he returned. " The 
 shard was not the rose, O Khatoun, but it had dwelt 
 with the rose, and, in the same fashion, the flea is 
 not the swine, but it hath battened upon the swine, 
 and thou, O Frankish Khatoun, art the friend of Turks. 
 Wilt deny the seal and the Tughra of the Sultan of 
 Roum, whom may An Nabi (on whom be peace !) and 
 Ali his Vali send soon to burn in Gehenna, together 
 with thee ! " 
 
 He thrust the firman before my eyes. " It were 
 well, thou Frank friend of Turks, to deal with thee 
 as thy friends dealt with our women," he went on. 
 " Thou shalt serve a purpose, however Inshallah ! 
 by remaining in ward until the Vali of Mosul sends my 
 father, Aziz Beg, to release thee." 
 
 " So thou art Mehreb Beg ? " I rejoined. "I counsel 
 thee to release us, O Mehreb. We are here to look 
 for Written Stones ; do thou take us back to my 
 father, and he will not only secure the safe return of 
 Aziz Beg, but will make peace and prosperity for the 
 Hammawand as long as we live here." 
 
 The chief spat in a bored way, as a rude European 
 would have yawned over my wearyingly silly plea. 
 *' Look thou, Khatoun, will he first throw the Veil of 
 Forgetfulness over our laying hands on thee ? " 
 
 " At my intercession he will. By my mother's 
 honour ! " 
 
 *' She was doubtless a Frank and a Naisri. I will not 
 test thy vow." 
 
 I was furious. Still, reflecting that he was only an 
 ignorant young clodhopper with a real store of bitter 
 wrong to avenge on the Turks, I controlled myself and 
 answered : " Mehreb Beg, I assure thee that by giving
 
 Many a Slip 269 
 
 up all hope of our friendship and aid for the bare 
 release of thy father thou art even as Abdullah Ibn 
 Kelabeh, who lost the garden of Irem for an onion." 
 
 '*' Khatoun, an onion secure in the grasp is more 
 satisfactory than all Irem in prospective. Now do 
 thou explain to the Frank Agha." 
 
 " The Vali will no doubt send along Aziz Beg when 
 he hears the terms," said the American, when I had 
 translated. " I feel more composed now." 
 
 " I do not," I replied morosely. " I feel as though 
 I were coming to pieces dissolving into my component 
 ingredients disintegrating alive. Papa going south 
 the Tel well lost and it is all my fault ! " 
 
 " It is, but you should wait until somebody else 
 points out the fact to you, Miss Har Jerningham," 
 was the daring reply. " I had an idea that you people 
 of the East believed in Fate, call it that Kismet 
 Karma che sard sard what is written on the forehead 
 you know." 
 
 " Thanks for the consolation. Still, I'm sorry it was 
 written on my forehead that I should lose the Tel for 
 Papa and have to listen to a brace of common Southland 
 Kurds and two low Turks guffawing over my pet 
 penates \ " 
 
 "The Tel lost! Ruling Passion!" he observed. 
 " I say, Miss Haroun, are you sure you would not give 
 your soul for permission and funds to pare Warka or 
 Kaleh Shergat down to water-level ? " 
 
 I almost laughed, and, to save my dignity answered, 
 " Miss Jerningham, please," and so relapsed into 
 silence and stared fixedly between the mare's ears to 
 fight down tears of vexation. It was my fault, and 
 Fate was always making me ridiculous before Mr. 
 Wilbur. We rode a long time, for the most part 
 through scraps of scrub and underwood and over coarse- 
 grassed steppes No othqr fcuman being was visible,
 
 270 Many a Slip 
 
 and no sign of any habitation ; when we struck a path 
 the dust became intolerable, and as the sun mounted 
 its rays beat down more fiercely direct each minute. 
 It was nearly overhead when a violet line began to rise 
 on the horizon to our right, quivering and palpitating 
 against the nearly canescent sky. 
 
 " It can't be the hills I " cried the American suddenly. 
 
 44 It is the Jebel Hamrin," I answered, shading my 
 eyes and taking a look at the little compass on my 
 charm bangle, now adorning Mehreb Beg's square 
 brown wrist. " We are heading due north-east, and 
 must have worked round in a curve." 
 
 44 Exactly," he nodded. " And Miss Haroun are 
 we actually making a bee-line for Tel Abou Khatoun ? " 
 
 A double-pronged heap was lifting up before us, all 
 brown and yellow with burnt grass and sand-drifts. 
 44 Verily this is Tel Abou Khatoun, O Rathia Kha- 
 toun," said the Beg, catching the name, " and upon 
 Tel Abou Khatoun we will please Allah rest a 
 while." 
 
 " After all, all is not lost, Mr. Wilbur," I said, bright- 
 ening. 
 
 " Not at all," he agreed joyfully. " Our entertainers 
 do not know about the Louvre Expedition, it is evident. 
 The French may turn up and rescue us " 
 
 " Mr. Wilbur 1 To be rescued by the French and to 
 
 have them claim the mound afterwards ! I'd prefer 
 
 a month in the dirty Hammawand camp 
 
 44 Then what on earth are you so gay about all of a 
 sudden, Miss Haroun ? " 
 
 44 That Inshallah, as our Beg says I'll claim the 
 Tel yet." 
 
 14 Miss Haroun ! " 
 
 44 Mr. Wilbur." I dropped my voice for all our 
 captors' ignorance of English. 4 ' Have you ever heard 
 of a man who could locate a lady's skirt pocket ? "
 
 Many a Slip 271 
 
 " No, but what " 
 
 44 Our captors are but men." 
 
 ** It is not well that captives should speak over-long 
 together in a tongue not understood of their masters," 
 interrupted the Beg, thrusting himself between us.
 
 Chapter VII 
 
 THE ^RAPE OF THE MOUND 
 
 THE Tel was now very near. It was a straggling pile, 
 covering many acres and cut up by ravines and the 
 channels of winter torrents, dry at this season, into 
 several separate heaps. Some miles to east of it the 
 hills rose ; at its western end, the one we were approach- 
 ing, its two highest points shot up, roughly conical 
 mounds, sweeping gracefully apart and divided by a 
 deep, steep-sided, dry watercourse. " The Ziggorat 
 sacred tower is embedded in the highest heap, and the 
 lesser probably contains a temple, and those beyond to 
 the east the city," I could not resist saying to the 
 American, after casting an Assyriological glance 
 around. 
 
 " Ruling Passion going strong, though it's about 80 
 in the shade, and I'm sorry to notice you don't speak 
 with your normal distinctness ; too thirsty, I presume," 
 he returned, with such a pleasantly sympathetic look 
 of appreciation that I had to smile back and hated 
 myself for it directly. At that juncture a solitary 
 rider came round the foot of the Temple Mound, a 
 dapper little rider on a dapper little Gulf Arab. " M. 
 Henriot ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 Mehreb and a Turk dashed forward while the rest of 
 us halted. Like the American, the Frenchman was 
 taken too much by surprise to offer any resistance ; he 
 was dragged to us in a few minutes. He was bound 
 
 272
 
 The Rape of the Mound 273 
 
 like my companion, and to that I attribute his not 
 falling out of his saddle at sight of me. " Mademoiselle 
 Jerningham ! " he gasped. 
 
 " I am delighted to see you looking so well, M, 
 Henriot." 
 
 " I am ravished to behold Mademoiselle Jerning- 
 ham," he returned, with the same expression of gallan- 
 try under difficulties that his great-grandfather probably 
 displayed to the ladies who shared the tumbril with 
 him. " The gentleman behind Mademoiselle it is not 
 M. Piers ? " 
 
 I introduced them, they bowed solemnly, trussed as 
 they were. " I do not see Madame," I added. 
 
 " She is some miles away," he answered. *' I do not 
 understand with ease the argot of our captors am I 
 to share with M. Wilbur the honour of being massacred 
 in Mademoiselle Jerningham's company ? " 
 
 I explained Mehreb's intentions. " I am relieved 
 on Mademoiselle's account," he began. Mehreb, who 
 had been engaged in taking stock of the property he 
 had taken from him, interrupted. 
 
 " Interpret for us, Khatoun," he ordered peremp- 
 torily. " Good, good," he added, when I had elucidated 
 the new captive's identity. " The Vali will not refuse 
 to exchange my father for three Franks. Allah Al 
 Kerim hath sent to-day. Now on to rest, my children." 
 
 We entered the precincts of the Tel by the dried 
 watercourse a nasty way. The sun-rays seemed to be 
 focused on the back of our necks by the ribbon-like 
 opening overhead, the high sides radiated the heat they 
 had been storing in their hard-baked interior through 
 the summer ; together with an exceedingly evil savour 
 from the lines of dried and half-dried slime marking the 
 level of different floods. A little ooze still adorned the 
 bottom, and I could deduce that in winter a torrent 
 deep enough to drown men raced that way, by token of
 
 274 The Rape of the Mound 
 
 a skeleton splayed between two boulders like an over- 
 grown spider. 
 
 I touched up Arjamand and entered with the Beg 
 at the head of the troop. Our halting-place was half- 
 way up the inner slope of the Ziggorat *nound, where a 
 small clump of trees tamarisks and a few poplars 
 afforded a grateful patch of violet shade. At the roots 
 grew a few blades of grass, for the rest the Tel pre- 
 sented a doleful view of broken ground, dry sand, and 
 burnt earth. A huddle of grave-mounds and stones 
 occupied the lower part of our slope and the low ground 
 below it, and, as the jackals know the Arab habit of 
 burying shallowly in high and lonely spots it was not 
 a nice scene. One mangy animal was busy re-polishing 
 a well-polished skull under the trees ; on our arrival he 
 left it and skulked about in the distance until Mehreb 
 flung it at him and bade him begone for an ill-omened 
 brute. 
 
 My fellows in misfortune were hauled off their horses 
 and roped in a sitting posture to two trees. As a mere 
 woman, I was allowed to move about as I liked ; under 
 surveillance, the horses were tethered, a sentry was 
 posted on the Ziggorat top, and the other men set about 
 unslinging their food-bags and water-skins. 
 
 " Have hope and confidence, chere Mademoiselle," 
 exhorted the Frenchman encouragingly. " Soon, very 
 soon, my beloved spouse and my caravan will be here. 
 Our hosts know nothing of them; it will be diverting 
 when they walk up." 
 
 The prospect scarcely looked inviting to me. " And 
 to what do we owe the pleasure of your company, Mon- 
 sieur ? " I asked. 
 
 " You are probably aware that we departed from 
 Mosul a few days ago. I rode ahead of the slow-moving 
 caravan, and u'Za / And yourself, Mademoiselle ? " 
 
 " I was captured a few hours ago, together with Mr.
 
 The Rape of the Mound 275 
 
 Wilbur, when we chanced to be separated from the 
 rest of the party which my Papa is bringing to start 
 excavations on this very mound. My poor Papa is 
 now looking for me down-river, and we v'ld ! " 
 
 " But, Mademoiselle, this is extraordinary ! I was 
 coming myself for the honour of claiming this mound 
 for the Louvre Expedition ! " 
 
 M. Henriot is really a passable actor. He dissembled 
 his chagrin at having his fears of my intentions con- 
 firmed well enough, and, being the sort of little dried- 
 up Gaul whose eyes are pig-like and usually half shut 
 in folds of plumpness, he had only to open them wide 
 to pantomime astonishment perfectly. I looked as 
 surprised as I could in return. 
 
 " But, Monsieur, this is extraordinary ! A strange 
 coincidence ! So odd that you did not happen to tell 
 any one in Mosul where you were bound ! " 
 
 I looked a look all innocence and perplexity at him. 
 Our eyes met, and we each fought an inclination to 
 grin. " Mademoiselle, I perceive that, by an extra- 
 ordinary concatenation of circumstances, we have both 
 come on the same errand," he said gravely. " The 
 situation is of the romantic." 
 
 I failed to see the romance. I was tired and rather 
 hungry and dreadfully thirsty, Papa was lost, the fir- 
 man in Mehreb's keeping good as lost ; the Tel would 
 be lost when the rest of the French came. Everything 
 was lost, and a hurried inspection, with one eye shut, 
 of the bridge of my nose confirmed my fear that it was 
 beginning to peel with sunburn. And it was all my 
 fault. 
 
 The very hopelessness roused the fighting instinct in 
 me. I felt the blood of a hundred generations of 
 warriors, Norman and Koreish and Abbasside, wake 
 up and run faster in my veins, threw back my shoulders, 
 thought comfortingly of that pocket overlooked by the
 
 276 The Rape of the Mound 
 
 Kurds, and prepared to fight to the last ditch. " I 
 think it is more of the Comic Operatic, Monsieur," I 
 said. " The question is : which of us has claimed the 
 Tel ? " 
 
 " I must point out, Mademoiselle, that I left Mosul 
 first." 
 
 " But I must point out, Monsieur, that I first set 
 foot on the Tel." 
 
 " I noted it what foresight ! If only you belonged 
 to the Louvre Expedition, Mademoiselle ! I am not 
 certain, however, that by the etiquette of Assyriology 
 mere priority of entry confers proprietorship." 
 
 " I am sure it does not ! " said the American trucu- 
 lently. I was all eyes at him until he added : " If it 
 did, Monsieur, you could point out that you were here 
 days ago." 
 
 I had actually forgotten that for a moment. The 
 stranger from the West had the Assyriological in- 
 stinct. It would have taken Piers a week's thought 
 to notice that point unassisted. I almost liked the 
 American pro tern. "Exactly," I assented, "the 
 making of excavations is the surest proof of owner- 
 ship ; and the finding of antiquities clinches it is it 
 not so ? " 
 
 " I believe that is correct, Mademoiselle," the enemy 
 assented. 
 
 With the toe of my boot I then turned up a little of 
 the loose earth and kicked out a fragment of the green- 
 glazed pottery with which most 'tween and besides the 
 rivers' mounds are peppered. On this I pounced with 
 affected rapture. *' Behold, Monsieur ! " I cried. " A 
 very fine specimen of Parthian ceramic art this ! Now, 
 Mr. Wilbur is witness that I have dug into the mound 
 and unearthed an antiquity." 
 
 Mr. Wilbur, shouting with laughter, bore witness. 
 The Frenchman was silent for a moment, amusement
 
 The Rape of the Mound 277 
 
 and vexation warring for possession of his features, 
 until he hit on a checkmate. 
 
 " Mademoiselle, it is ingenious ; it is worthy of M. 
 Morier's Hajji Baba, or your forefather, Le Grand 
 Khalif ! But have you your firman in possession ? " 
 
 " No, Monsieur," I was constrained to admit, " you 
 have yours ? " 
 
 " Our firman, Mademoiselle, is in the custody of 
 Madame." 
 
 " Then, Monsieur, shall we make a bargain to save 
 argument in the heat ? Whoever with a firman in 
 actual possession first makes excavations here shall be 
 adjudged possessor ? " 
 
 He assented heartily, evidently under the impression 
 that our firman was hurrying down-river with Papa, 
 while the rest of his party was coming on apace. Mr. 
 Wilbur bore witness despondingly. 
 
 The man had now unpacked the provisions. The 
 two male captives were permitted the use of one hand, 
 balanced by a pistol-muzzle screwed into the corre- 
 sponding ear, while they partook of their share of the 
 collation : a swallow of leather-flavoured water from 
 the communal skin, and a flap of bread nicely flavoured 
 with grits of millstone, and were then tied up again. 
 I fared better : fear of immediate pursuit over, Mehreb 
 had leisure to be a little more civil. On the strength 
 of a week spent in Baghdad he considered himself quite 
 Europeanised and an expert in the proper treatment 
 of Frankish ladies a useful delusion, as his outward 
 manifestation of it consisted of establishing me on a pile 
 of rugs in the thickest shade while he sat at a respect- 
 ful distance before me and shared with me the contents 
 of the little basket which Monsieur had carried when, 
 to do him justice, he rode ahead of his slow caravan 
 like a brave son of France, disregarding possible danger 
 to leave his wife with all the escort and to make sure of
 
 278 The Rape of the Mound 
 
 the Tel. I must admit that Madame takes excellent 
 care of her good man, as was evinced by the little snack. 
 It fairly savoured of wifely arrangement. I felt sorry 
 to think she had wasted her trouble for my regalement, 
 and told Monsieur so over my shoulder. The trees to 
 which they were tied were some distance off, and on the 
 edge of the shade ; Monsieur was melting visibly, but 
 polite as usual. He assured me that Madame would 
 be as pleased as he was that her efforts had proved 
 of some service to me, and would only regret, with him, 
 that part would go to Mehreb. 
 
 " As little as I can help," I replied. So I told Mehreb 
 that the corned-beef sandwiches were pig and secured 
 them all for myself. When I told Monsieur of it he 
 roared, but the American looked shocked ; as people 
 new to the East always do at an unnecessary fib. 
 Mehreb did not look too well fed, so I let him share the 
 raisin and sesamum cakes undisturbed by bogy tales, 
 and assured him the contents of the flask were not 
 Khamr. That was policy ; on somebody used to strict 
 teetotalism even weak claret would have some effect 
 helpful to my schemes. The Beg, being young, was 
 accordingly vain, and I had him inside out in an eye- 
 lid's twinkle. 
 
 " There is a Mehreb Beg in the Sherij Nameh, 1 ' I 
 commented. 
 
 " My forefather, Khatoun." He swelled with grati- 
 fication. A Kurd is as proud of an ancestor in the 
 Sherif Nameh as an Englishman is of one in Domesday 
 Book. 
 
 We talked pedigrees. " Verily the Vali will be cow- 
 headed beyond the customary cow-headedness of Turks 
 if he will not exchange my father for so great a Khatoun 
 as thou," said Mehreb. 
 
 I asked of his proposed procedure. '* First In- 
 shallah ! to take ye all to our village. Then to send
 
 The Rape of the Mound 279 
 
 your firman to Mosul with one to say : ' Send my father 
 to loose the bonds of the owner of this, or thou shalt 
 see what thou shalt see, O Vali.' " 
 
 " And if the Vali refuses ? " 
 
 " Inshallah, I will cut the ears and the right hand 
 from off the Agha from Yenghi Dunia, and send him 
 to say : ' Thus shall be done to the Khatoun if my 
 father cometh not to release her.' ' 
 
 " And if the Vali is still obdurate, my brother ? " 
 
 " We will, Inshallah, cut the throat of the other 
 Frankish Agha and send him, packed in salt and saw- 
 dust, with the Khatoun's ears and hand and a live man 
 to say, * Thus shall be done to the Khatoun if my 
 father cometh not.' " 
 
 Really the man expected God to condone a lot of 
 ruffianism ! " And if, even then, he will not agree ? " 
 I demanded. 
 
 For answer he made a long arm and put the point of 
 his khanjar to my throat. I looked at him scornfully 
 along the shining blade and said : " Well ? " 
 
 He drew it round, inflicting a trifling scratch. *' That 
 is all ? " I sneered. " 'Tis but a threat." 
 
 " A threat will be enough for the Vali," he returned. 
 " The Turks are dogs and crawlers and eaters of scraps 
 to the Franks, and the Franks worship their women, 
 and it is written : * Beat but the idols and the priests 
 tremble.' ' 
 
 " By Allah Al Majid, the Khatoun never flinched ! " 
 the other Kurd exclaimed. " Verily, Mehreb Beg, my 
 father, thou hast eaten dirt ; it is ill to spill blood 
 wantonly. Pray Allah we pay not for it ! " 
 
 Pay-time was nearer than he expected. " Beg 
 Effendim ! " bawled the sentry. " We are very safe 
 now, come and see the Khatoun's father searching for 
 her 1 " 
 
 " Come too, Khatoun," said Mehreb.
 
 280 The Rape of the Mound 
 
 We climbed the Ziggorat height. It was confusing 
 at first to emerge from the shade into the glare of the 
 noon sky and the shadeless, sun-bathed panorama out- 
 spread around. A silvery-green ribbon of water cut 
 through the plain far off, and a dark square was moving 
 southwards along it. " Thy father searches for thee 
 southwardly, Khatoun," sneered Mehreb, handing me 
 my own binoculars. 
 
 " Verily," I replied, sweeping the horizon. " Tell me, 
 though, what is that that fares southwardly towards 
 us?" 
 
 He seized the glasses and stared. " By the beard of 
 An Nabi (on the which be peace !) a large party ! " 
 
 " The friends of the Agha thou didst capture at the 
 foot of the Tel," I replied placidly. 
 
 "'Subhan' Allah! Speed, Obeidullah, son of 
 Hasan; bid the others mount, and mount the two 
 Aghas." 
 
 The sentry ran. Mehreb screeched directions to him 
 until he was off the height, then turned to me. And, 
 turning, surveyed the barrel of the revolver I had 
 whipped out of the special pocket hi my skirt surveyed 
 it with a distinct squint as the muzzle was set against 
 the bridge of his nose. 
 
 " The one at my belt was a blind," I observed. " This 
 is a seven-shot, and loaded by my mother's honour ! 
 Take my word for it, lest I prove it by scattering the 
 brains of a Hammawand fool about the Tel ! Raise 
 thine hands ! " 
 
 A real mountain Kurd would have launched for me 
 and lost his brains like a man, but this was only a half- 
 breed southland specimen. He was wise in his genera- 
 tion, and obeyed. Where we stood the others could 
 not see us, I made my captive back until we were on 
 the inner edge of the rough table-land which made the 
 top of the Ziggorat. I stood a little above and facing
 
 The Rape of the Mound 281 
 
 him and, as his back was to the men, I could cover him 
 and see them at the same time. 
 
 " Ha, my sons ! " I cried. 
 
 They were preparing for departure, two beginning to 
 unbind the white men, the sentry attending to the 
 hbrses. At my call they ran together half-way up the 
 slope. For a few moments their eyes were dazzled by 
 the flaring sky against which I was outlined darkly, 
 and, availing myself of the pause, I called again. 
 
 " Touch not your arms unless ye be aweary of the rule 
 of Mehreb, son of Aziz ! '* 
 
 Peering now under cupped hands, they took in the 
 situation clearly. It would be futile to aim at me ; even 
 to desert-bred eyes my figure heaved and palpitated 
 against the glaring sky. And the Beg was between. 
 " This is a seven-shot, and it is like shooting at a mark 
 with ye in the shade," I proceeded. ** Raise your hands 
 ere I count three, or Mehreb Beg dies, and others of ye 
 to boot. One " 
 
 Mehreb was popular. Three pairs of hands went up 
 in a bunch, like the leaves of some plant I remember 
 noticing at Kew, and three guns fell from supporting 
 elbows. 
 
 " Heed me not, but shoot, in the names of Ali and 
 the Imaums, my children ! " Mehreb exhorted in a 
 shriek. " The Franks come with zaptiehs to hale us 
 to Mosul and, Ya Allah Al Muhaimin four men of the 
 Hammawands to yield to a woman ! " 
 
 I had, without removing .my eyes, transferred the 
 little armoury of daggers and the two pistols from his 
 girdle to my own belt. Only one of the other three 
 carried a pistol, . he dropped one hand and drew it. 
 Before he could aim a bullet shattered the lock. 
 
 " I have fired to warn ; next I will fire to wound," I 
 snapped, swinging my seven-shot back to its old position 
 so that Mehreb was fain to blink because the muzzle
 
 282 The Rape of the Mound 
 
 smoked. " Throw your knives on the guns and step 
 back five paces." 
 
 They now made no demur about obeying, sending 
 Mehreb to stand with them, I took my own position in 
 front of the weapons. It had all taken a bare few 
 minutes, and the two white men had not found tongue 
 until now. They called anxious inquiries. 
 
 " In a moment, Monsieur ; in a moment, Mr. Wilbur," 
 I replied, still eyeing the Kurds. " You will perceive 
 that it is impossible for me to release you at present. 
 Now we will speak, Mehreb Beg." 
 
 " With my men I will speak," answered the Beg 
 bitterly. ** Tell me in mine ears, my children, is it 
 better to go before the Vali and to hang beside Mosul 
 bridge, or to die here at the hands of this tiger's-cub of 
 a woman ? " 
 
 " Whichever fate is to be ours, Allah hath written 
 on our foreheads. He is great, compassionate, and 
 merciful ! " the other real Hammawand replied. '* If 
 His servant and thine, O Beg, might choose, though, it 
 is better to be hung by men than shot by a woman." 
 
 " After capture by a woman," growled Mehreb. 
 
 ** A tiger's-cub," I corrected, feeling quite sorry for 
 them. " My brethren, ye cannot escape my shots, but, 
 please Allah, while the zaptiehs hale ye to Mosul many 
 things may happen." 
 
 Mehreb sulked still, but to the eyes of the others 
 sprang hope hope of a few more hours or, maybe, days, 
 spent by their souls in the, bodies they had fitted into 
 for so long. They whispered. 
 
 "It is well spoken, Khatoun," Mehreb answered at 
 last. " We be thy booty. We submit. It is Allah's 
 will. Looking for a day of revenge. Our arms be 
 weary ; is it thine august will, O Vanquisher of Warriors, 
 that we lower them and rest until the zaptiehs are 
 corne ? "
 
 The Rape of the Mound 283 
 
 ** Nay, not so." I sat on a stone beside the guns with 
 my back to the captives under the trees. " To go to 
 Mosul, that the Vali may do to ye as Allah hath decreed, 
 is the due for molesting peaceful Children of the Road ; 
 but first ye must pay for this." 
 
 I touched my throat. " Pay ? " repeated the four 
 blankly.
 
 Chapter VIII 
 
 THE CLINCHING FIND " 
 
 MY manoeuvres had brought the Hammawands in front 
 of a high, projecting bank, a kind of excrescence on the 
 slope, left, as an Assyriological eye could see, by the last 
 season's rain washing the looser earth and debris away 
 from it. It suggested the end of a buried wall. Still 
 fixing the Kurds with my eyes, I felt for a knife, 
 thrust the blade under the stone on which I was seated, 
 snapped it, and flung the hilt and its jagged appen- 
 dage of a couple of inches of steel to the Beg. " Mark 
 a square of five paces each way on the ground," I 
 ordered. 
 
 He obeyed, amazed. I treated three more knives 
 in the same way and threw them to his followers. 
 " Dig all," I commanded. " Dig within the lines as 
 deep as may be until I bid ye cease." 
 
 " Allah the Inheritor ! It is a great grave for us ! " 
 cried one. 
 
 *' It will be less trouble for me to send ye living to the 
 hanging than to explain your carcases," I returned, 
 knowing an ounce of solid reason was worth tons of 
 argument. " Dig, or before I count three Allah 
 knows what will be. One two " 
 
 They dug. Dug clumsily owing to indifferent tools, 
 inexperience, and the heat. By feeling I took each of 
 the rifles in turn with my left hand and discharged them. 
 Then I bunched them together by the muzzles and 
 
 284
 
 The Clinching, "Find" 285 
 
 dragged them with me as I adjourned to a more com- 
 fortable seat under the shade of a broken bank. 
 
 " Is it Ruling Passion still ? " demanded the Ameri- 
 can's voice. 
 
 I answered without ceasing to eye the workers 
 " You must excuse my not turning, M. Henriot, Mr. 
 Wilbur. I can now spare a moment to express my 
 regret that I cannot yet release you. The situation is 
 equally humiliating to all three of us " 
 
 " Humiliating to you, Miss Jerningham ? " exclaimed 
 the American. " You are all right running about like 
 an Amazon or a Guardian Angel with a six-shooter; 
 but look at us ! Two grown men sitting mumchance 
 while the lady of the party " 
 
 " Bullies Kurds," I completed. " When you think it 
 over, you will perceive that my disgust at enacting so 
 brutal and unfeminine a rdle must be exactly parallel 
 to your own, and M. Henriot's, at rilling a passive one. 
 And, really, you have both exhibited great strength of 
 
 mind by not troubling me with advice But the men 
 
 whisper together." 
 
 And I gave a resume of the whisper aloud. " My 
 brother in the green and black turban sayeth that 
 belike my striking his revolver was but a happy chance 
 and, mayhap, I am unable, after the manner of women, 
 to hit a man at two paces of deliberate intent. Let him 
 observe the blue potsherd by his left foot." 
 
 All observed. My revolver barked and the shard 
 flew piecemeal. 
 
 " Allah 'r Rashid, the Khatoun is a great director of 
 bullets ! " the doubter exclaimed. " That is, unless it 
 was another lucky chance. &et her break this stone 
 also." 
 
 " Yea, verily, and let her also hit this and this mark 
 to boot until her shots be all spent," I responded, allow- 
 ing a slow, ostentatious smile the oriental equivalent
 
 2S6 The Clinching "Find" 
 
 for the tongue in the cheek to steal across my 
 features. " Ye do mistake : I am from Mosul, not 
 from Ahwaz." 
 
 It is a localism that the air of Mosul makes people 
 sharp, while that of Ahwaz breeds Boeotian stupidity. 
 The captive ex-captors laughed guiltily in cone 
 44 Khatoun ! " cried the late doubter. " You are wise 
 as Allah Allah, who is wise, compassionate, and 
 merciful. O wise Khatoun, be like to Him in com- 
 passion and mercy too ! The zaptiehs come to take us ; 
 it was decreed, we men bow to the decree, but, conquer- 
 ing Khatoun, we have wives and little ones ! The Vali 
 will in his wrath send troops and you can guess, con- 
 quering Khatoun ! Will you of your grace say a 
 word " 
 
 44 Thine appeal is of no influence with me in respect 
 to my intentions regarding ye all," I replied coldly. 
 44 To the digging again ! " 
 
 In a little while Mehreb turned to me a face blackened 
 with angry emotion and work, head-down hi the heat, 
 * 4 We dig for Curious Stones, is it not ? " he inquired. 
 44 Here is one," and he rolled a large octagonal cylinder, 
 inscribed and little mutilated, to me. 
 
 Assyriology is boltered with dramatic moments. As 
 the Beg spoke he stood up to rest himself. Now to 
 extract the cylinder out of the ground they had burrowed 
 some way under the buttress-like projection, and as 
 they did so a brace of wide perpendicular cracks had run 
 up and down the mass above. He leant all his weight 
 for a moment on a hand against one of these, it widened 
 and, with a rush and clatter, a mass of earth came down 
 on the workers. 
 
 It was not much in quantity, insufficient to knock 
 them flat, but an avalanche could not have had more 
 effect on their nerves. With a concerted scream of 
 horror they shook themselves free of the fallen soil and
 
 The Clinching "Find" 287 
 
 shards, fled some paces, and huddled together staring 
 and too frightened to remember my pist6l for the nonce, 
 or even to run wa} 
 
 " Abu '1 Houl ! " shrieked Mehreb. " It is an Afrit ! 
 It is Nimrod it is Ibrahim '1 Khalil Ali Ulahi it is 
 Allah Himself ! " 
 
 " Juste ciel, un Kirabu ! " exclaimed the voice of M. 
 Henriot. 
 
 " Great Scott, a statue ! " the American commented. 
 
 " It is but a Curious Stone, my sons," I said. " Arid, 
 please you, remember my seven-shot." 
 
 It v. r as really a sight to startle unaccustomed beholders. 
 It was as though some long-buried giant had stirred 
 in his grave and thrust part of his head, all streaked 
 with earth and the blanched mould of the sepulchre, 
 out of the ground. The slope was now in shade, but 
 out of it, high above the men's heads, amidst the crumb- 
 ling earth the upper half of a gigantic face projected 
 and caught some sunlight on its clear-cut features. A 
 hooked nose, vast, shadowed brows, under them 
 swollen eyeballs, dead and white but for the purple- 
 painted pupils, a flat cheek with little curls creeping on 
 it, and a square mouth melting into waving locks, all 
 whitened with age and long burial where dust and soil 
 and ashes did not smear them. And the bleached 
 terror of it all, tall from underlip to brow as a man's 
 waist, framed in the dusky earth. A sight of terror 
 to the ignorant Kurds, but to me one of rapture. 
 
 We had, by one of Allah's chances, lighted on a 
 marble man-headed bull or lion flanking the gate of 
 some long-buried temple or palace. M. Henriot was a 
 man of honour : the Tel was mine. 
 
 " A Curious Stone ? " said Mehreb, beginning to 
 gather together his composure. " Belike it is one of 
 the images which were smitten asunder by Ibrahim '1 
 Khalil on whom be peace ! in the house of his father
 
 288 The Clinching "Find" 
 
 Therach in the days before the days of Noah peace 
 upon him 1 " 
 
 And that was quite good archaeology for a Southland 
 Kurd. " Even so," I agreed. " Your work is now 
 done ; do ye stand by the horses." 
 
 They were in a sorry plight, staggering as they walked, 
 nearly worn out, utterly dispirited, as I had foreseen, 
 by unaccustomed work in the heat, and wriggling 
 uneasily on account of their clothes sticking to their 
 oozing skins. I shepherded them round the trees out 
 of sight of the Frenchman and American. " Throw 
 on the ground all ye took from the Aghas and from 
 me, and then on that your cartridge belts," I ordered. 
 
 4 * To be wholly spoiled by a woman it is too much ! " 
 snarled Mehreb. " Shoot, Khatoun ; we have eaten 
 abomination enough." 
 
 " Come, come," I returned good-humouredly. " If 
 ye would die, at the least die in a rush upon me. 
 But will ye give up Irem for an onion again ? The 
 Irem of possible escape from the zaptiehs for an onion 
 of certain death at my hands ? " 
 
 They half growled and half laughed. A little heap 
 of trinkets and odds and ends, removed from thievish 
 saddle-bags, wrists, girdles, and fingers, accumulated at 
 my feet on the belts. 
 
 " Now mount and ride before the zaptiehs come," I 
 said quietly. 
 
 They rubbed their sweat-filled eyes and glared 
 dazedly. " There be your horses, mount and be gone," 
 I went on. " Why should I weary myself bearing wit- 
 ness against ye at Mosul ? What am I that I should 
 bring the soldiery upon your women and little ones ? 
 Istafar Allah ! Go in peace, as I meant ye should from 
 the first." 
 
 " The Khatoun jesteth," faltered the Beg. 
 
 " Nay, not so. Ye captured me and then I captured
 
 The Clinching "Find" 289 
 
 you. The scales balance. Also Mehreb scratched my 
 throat, and for that ye have scratched the ground 
 and have paid me blood-money of a Curious Stone. 
 Lex talionis. Go." 
 
 " This is empty mercy, Khatoun," Mehreb shook his 
 head. " Thy father will hear and tell the Vali of thy 
 mishappenings " 
 
 " How can the Vali find ye if I profess I know not 
 your names ? Will he send to slaughter all the Hamma- 
 wands for sake of four unknown men of the tribe who 
 did no harm to a party of Franks who laugh at the 
 happening ? " 
 
 " The two Aghas " he hinted. 
 
 " A woman who can subdue four Hammawands can 
 surely persuade two men of her own kind to back any 
 tale she chooses to tell. Now, my brethren, ye can 
 hide the loss of your cartridges and small-arms, and 
 supply new, but the loss of your guns is a different 
 matter. Therefore, as ye have not the wherewithal to 
 load them and shoot me, ye may go and take them 
 again. Let each man sling his securely on his back 
 ere he moves from the spot where they are am I of 
 Ahwaz, that I should let ye come within distance to 
 club me if ye had them free ? " 
 
 They rushed, feverishly eager but with the gaze of 
 men in a trance, to secure the guns. The captives round 
 the grove bellowed anxious inquiries to me. 
 
 '' Khatoun, thou art as Allah, who is great, com- 
 passionate, and merciful ! " said Mehreb, turning with 
 outspread hands. " Truly we have lost Irem for an 
 onion ! " 
 
 " And the onion is lost now ! " I concluded drily. 
 
 From the top of the Ziggorat I watched, with both 
 
 revolvers cocked, until the Kurds melted into the 
 
 palpitating noon horizon and the French were within 
 
 ten minutes' ride of the Tel. Since I had driven the 
 
 10
 
 290 The Clinching "Find" 
 
 Kurds round the trees out of sight of the two Europeans 
 my fellow captives had been making the mound noisy 
 with falsetto inquiries after my welfare. I let them 
 shout while I attended to more pressing business. 
 
 After loosing Arjamand and sorting my property out 
 of the common heap I tidied myself a little with the aid 
 of my recovered assets, hid the cartridge-belts under 
 a tombstone, and finally sauntered round the trees. 
 
 The men were in the last stage of dishevelled demoral- 
 isation with ineffectual tugging at their bonds. " Miss 
 Jerningham ! Thank God you're safe ! " exclaimed 
 the American, as I made my appearance with Arjamand 
 trotting, dog-like, at my heels. 
 
 " You two appear awfully excited," I remarked, 
 deliberately replacing my left earring. " Did you want 
 me ? I was speeding the going guests. Our Kurdish 
 visitors have gone." 
 
 " Gone ? " repeated Harvey Wilbur. " When we 
 saw them race for the guns we thought you were gone 
 for certain " 
 
 " You forgot that the guns were unloaded," I re- 
 turned, hooking in the other ring and disengaging my 
 back hair from Arjamand's efforts to make a snack of 
 it. " You see, M. Henriot, your caravan is now within 
 hail of the Tel ; the Kurds, knowing it, risked my pistols 
 and made a dash for the guns and horses. I did not 
 fire at them; I am opposed to useless bloodshed." 
 
 The men looked at one another in an offensively 
 meaning way. "Ma foi! Mademoiselle," said M. 
 Henriot, " I believe you let them escape in the kindness 
 of your heart." 
 
 " You do, Monsieur ? Then when I tell my tale to 
 Madame you are at liberty to express your belief that 
 I tamper with the truth." 
 
 " I wish you'd have the kindness to unloose me and 
 hand me one of those shooting-irons, Miss Har Jem-
 
 The Clinching "Find" 291 
 
 ingham," the American put in hastily. " It might be 
 a good move in case our friends return." 
 
 " They won't return as long as they think I'm about. 
 And there is a difficulty about releasing M. Henriot " 
 
 " Mademoiselle t " 
 
 " And it would look like favouritism if I released 
 you alone, Mr. Wilbur." 
 
 " Miss Jerningham ! " 
 
 " But I am anxious to release M. Henriot, and will 
 
 do so if " here I unfolded the firman, and waved 
 
 a hand to the giant head. 
 
 The Frenchman burst into a jolly laugh. " Chere 
 Mademoiselle, I know when I am beaten by my 
 master. You have most truly earned the Tel. I 
 concede the victory, and only beg of your grace that 
 you will settle all with Madame." 
 
 * Yes, Miss Jerningham," the American added. 
 " We men would be ashamed to tell of this morning's 
 adventures. Eh, M'sieu ? " 
 
 M. Henriot nodded, and shuddered. I cut their 
 bonds. The Frenchman seized my hand and kissed it. 
 
 " Viva Mademoiselle, fille du Grand Khalif, Impera- 
 trice d'Assyriologie ! " he cried. 
 
 " Hear, hear ! " the American shouted heartily. 
 He took my hand before I could withdraw it, and 
 suddenly released it, with a swift glance into my eyes 
 which I would have read as apology for a checked 
 liberty if I had not known it was really a memory of 
 the wood by Sliwa Klissia. We both went red, and 
 my triumph was flat. 
 
 A spattering of shots and shouts announced the near 
 approach of the French. They boarded the Tel in 
 style. The zaptiehs first, the Shammar lesser Sheikh 
 who was their safe-conduct next, then Madame herself, 
 her trim person sandwiched between a wall-eyed 
 Karabagh roan and a big white umbrella, Nazim
 
 292 The Clinching "Find" 
 
 Effendi, the Stamboul Museum Polite Spy of the party, 
 followed with a couple of score workmen and a few 
 overseers. In the rear the Katerjis tailed off, remon- 
 strating with the baggage mules, which had stam- 
 peded at the firing. 
 
 Madame had dismounted when I topped a dune and 
 stood revealed. My companions in misfortune modestly 
 tried to hide behind me ; they bore evidence past cavil 
 of a morning's adventures in the dirt. I flatter myself 
 I was as fresh and crisp as Madame herself. She said : 
 " Juste ciel ! " and held up her hands. Nazim Effendi 
 said, "Allah Al Kebir ! " and held up his. The 
 zaptiehs had levelled their guns ; they lowered them and 
 said : " Subhan' Allah ! Mosuleani Khatoun ! " The 
 workers took, severally, verbal refuge in Allah from 
 Satan the Stoned. Only the grooms went on undis- 
 turbed in their business of chasing mules in the middle 
 distance. 
 
 " Mademoiselle Rathia ! " said Madame faintly. 
 
 I sailed down, all outstretched hands and welcoming 
 smile. " Chere Madame ! " I said. And we fell into 
 one another's arms and kissed, as gently-bred women 
 do when they would rather bite. " I am glad to welcome 
 
 you to my Tel " I proceeded. " Nazim Effen', thou 
 
 art welcome " 
 
 " Your Tel ? Thine ? " shrieked Madame, glancing 
 round me in search of the rest of my party. Her eye 
 rested on the giant head and remained fixed. 
 
 " Eh bien ! " she exclaimed. Her followers, with one 
 accord, took refuge from the Lapidated One several 
 times in succession. 
 
 " My first no, my second discovery," I announced. 
 4 You will congratulate me. But I forget the cere- 
 monies of civilisation in my joy at meeting you, cJiere 
 Madame." 
 
 I introduced Mr. Harvey Wilbur. She dismissed him
 
 The Clinching "Find" 293 
 
 with a glance. " Thou wilt perhaps enlighten me, my 
 Kippolyte," she said tartly. 
 
 " Mademoiselle will explain all, ma dtere Angelique." 
 
 " Directly," I obliged. " Let us sit on this bank, 
 dear Madame ; you will be as fatigued after your ride 
 as I am with superintending my excavations " 
 
 *' Your excavations ? " 
 
 " Exactly ; and you will rejoice with me that I have 
 already found a cylinder Asshur Dan, if I read the 
 name aright. I forget, though, your disappointment. 
 Monsieur has informed me that you were coming to try 
 the Tel. What a pity you did not let us know betimes ! 
 Our interests have clashed ; I am almost sorry that, as 
 first comer, I have obtained the prize ! " 
 
 " Your papa is here ? " She knew she might have 
 some chance with a man as chief opponent. 
 
 " Not yet. Nevertheless, I have claimed the Tel. 
 Eh, Monsieur ? " 
 
 To her consternation he nodded sadly. " Oui, cer- 
 tainement." 
 
 " Hippolyte ! " Her voice rose, icy with meaning ; 
 the poor man shivered, for all he was mopping his 
 steaming forehead. "I see a hole, a half -uncovered 
 Kirabu head, and some broken knives, Mademoiselle," 
 she proceeded. " Where are the workers ? " 
 
 My explanatory tale, delivered in a circle of rapt 
 listeners, was only untruthful in four details. I multi- 
 plied the foe by four, to save the feelings of my com- 
 panions, and dilated on the prodigies performed by 
 M. Henriot before he was overpowered. For sake of 
 Mehreb and his feminine and infantile belongings, I 
 said our captors had taken us with views of a hard 
 cash ransom. I implied that the classical good looks 
 of the leader had inflamed my girlish imagination, and 
 was puzzled about his name. 
 
 " I think it was Suleiman," I hesitated, " or Achmet.
 
 294 The Clinching "Find" 
 
 M. Henriot, Mr. Wilbur, was the man's name Achmet 
 or Suleiman ? " 
 
 The two developed different expressions over my little 
 ruse. The Frenchman tried to pantomime apprecia- 
 tion with the side of his face that was turned to me, 
 and at the same time to sport a look of chastened 
 regret with the other half for Madame's benefit. The 
 American simply bowed to my inquiry. 
 
 ** Achmet, I believe, Mademoiselle. You will re- 
 member best, as you were interpreter." M. Henriot 
 backed me nobly. 
 
 " This is interesting, chere Mademoiselle," said 
 Madame. ** It is of the romantic, the dramatic, but is 
 it Assyriology ? " 
 
 " I nave M. Henriot's word," I replied. 
 
 " It is so, my beloved Angelique," her husband 
 added. ** I am desolate that this so promising site is 
 lost to us, but past cavil Mademoiselle Rathia was first 
 on the Tel." 
 
 ** I am willing to let our respective Ambassadors lay 
 the case before the Padishah," I added. " The Tel to 
 be neutral in the interim." 
 
 Whereat the French colours went down at discretion. 
 We had far more influence at Yildiz than they ever 
 possessed. 
 
 The American, with a zaptieh and guide, ran the 
 rest of the Oxford Expedition to earth at Tekrit that 
 evening. Papa was in the Telegraph Office, wiring 
 Mosul for troops, while Piers, the Mudir, and Evelyn 
 reviewed redifs and volunteers preparatory to a night 
 tiunt. They turned the hunt into a triumphal march, 
 re-crossed the river, and reached the Tel in time to save 
 Madame from having to share her tent with me for the 
 night. 
 
 So ended the brilliant guerilla engagement of Tel 
 Abou Khatoun.
 
 Chapter IX 
 
 KHORSABAD THE SECOND 
 
 THE French left first thing in the morning. We offered 
 them one of the smaller heaps for their very own use, 
 one that I was sure was only a necropole mound. Mon- 
 sieur Henriot seemed inclined to stay and have a shot 
 at it, but Madame could not take her defeat in a sport- 
 ing spirit. So they went, and we set about arranging 
 the camp. 
 
 Our tent was pitched near the summit of the Ziggorat 
 mound ; there we could command a view of all the Tel 
 and miles of country, and feel like the chatelaines of a 
 feudal castle overlooking its vassal town. A little 
 lower down the slope was Papa's little tent and what 
 Miksi called the " Drawing-parlour " tent. Still lower 
 was a magic circle formed by the servants' quarters 
 and a line of stones, beyond which no one unconnected 
 with the household was permitted to pass on pain of 
 offhand corporeal pains and penalties. The workers 
 ran up huts of stone and reeds at the foot of the mound, 
 out of our sight, and Piers and the American set their 
 tent near-by, to keep order and to act as outpost in the 
 possible but improbable case of an attack by Kurds or 
 Bedawin. 
 
 I always do things decently and in order. Left to 
 themselves, the men would have camped on the nearest 
 low spot, and then wondered why they were ridden by 
 chills and malaria. 
 
 295
 
 296 Khorsabad the Second 
 
 All was arranged in a few hours, and it was delightful 
 to sit under my own tent-flap watching the men on the 
 other mound, the Temple mound, scurrying about like 
 ants as they began to tunnel into the bank beside my 
 Kirabu in search of his twin and the buried hall whose 
 door they probably flanked. Under changed and rosy 
 aspects the view, so dismal the day before, was charm- 
 ing. The Tel was now our Tel, the sand-slopes and 
 tombstones, which had been dusty yellow and dirty 
 grey twenty hours before, were now all gold and pearl, 
 the few trees were emerald-leaved as those of Sheddad's 
 Irem, the cloudless sky had taken its proper guise of 
 the Floor of Heaven, the canescent sun was no whit too 
 hot on our own Tel. 
 
 There was but one jarring note, the necessary crumpled 
 rose-leaf there should have been only two white men. 
 In the middle of the greatest triumph of my career there 
 thrust in the cloven hoof of my bitterest humiliation. 
 Well, it could not be helped. Kismet or rather 
 Karma, the fate you concoct for yourself, had foisted 
 the American on me ; my only course was to try and 
 not think he was thinking of that wood by Sliwa Klissia 
 whenever we met. 
 
 Within a week the whilom solitary Tel became the 
 most populous spot between Tekrit and Kirkuk. The 
 magic words, " The Diggers of Curious Stones are at 
 Tel Abou Khatoun 1 " went round like the fiery cross 
 and raised the country-side. All the villagers of 
 Khatounabad and every other hamlet within many 
 miles of the Tel came down with one accord, and said 
 the Tel was their property, and would we pay bak- 
 shish or clear out ? We neither paid nor went. In- 
 stead, we hired a gang of labourers from each place at 
 the usual remuneration of two piastres per head per 
 diem, and hope of a twopenny rise if they became 
 skilled workers, and for this they kept their fellow-
 
 Khorsabad the Second 297 
 
 villagers in order. Wandering tribes who pastured 
 their flocks on the Tel on the scarce occasions when 
 there was a sparse bit of grass there, marched on us 
 with the same alternative demands. We pacified them 
 in the same way, and, as all the hired men, nomad or 
 sedentary, made themselves reed-huts or pitched tents 
 in the plain around, the place soon lost its lonely air. 
 We had six hundred men on the pay-roll, and as to the 
 sum of their relatives and friends who came and picked 
 up a modest living under our shadow, we never knew it. 
 We did not inquire ; meanness is not the mode round 
 about the Two Great Rivers ; the custom is to give with 
 both hands and a friendly word. And if you give until 
 you have nothing left you can sponge on some one else 
 who is able to give. This bears some resemblance to 
 the earliest Early Christian way. 
 
 Not that we ran short that season. We came to stay 
 two weeks, stayed much longer, and left with pockets 
 that still jingled. This was brought about by the 
 unusual dilatoriness of the rainy season, and judicious 
 use of the telegraph. 
 
 The miracle of the wire that speaks ! The day after 
 our pitching camp Piers rode to Tekrit, a greasy 
 Lesghian operator manipulated the keys, and within 
 a span of hours a group of world-renowned savants 
 in far-off Oxford were conning this specimen of infinite 
 verbal riches in a little space. 
 
 " ASSYRIAN FUND COMM., OXFORD, ENGLAND. 
 " TEL- ABOU-KHATOUN, near Tekrit, another Khorsabad ; 
 heureka pedigree cylinder Tiglathpilesar primus deluge 
 tablet cylinder .Ashurdan ; funds low. JERNINGHAM." 
 
 Another span of hours, a return miracle, and we 
 gloated over this. 
 10*
 
 298 Khorsabad the Second 
 
 " JEBNTNGHAM, TBX-ABOU-KHATOUN, TEERIT. 
 " Congratulations ; wiring two thousand ; usual Mosul 
 banker; compliments. Miss J. and Miss E. Fund 
 Comm." 
 
 We worked with system. The state of the cemetery 
 shocked us ; we therefore had all the stray bones col- 
 lected and buried deep, under the superintendence of 
 the great Sheikh Abd Ul Khedr of Kirkuk. This 
 gentleman was the famed saint to whom Abdul Hamid 
 applied by telegraph for his prayers and blessings on 
 the Armenian Massacres before the signal to begin was 
 given ; we imported him specially, and it was very pro- 
 fitable for us. The Moslems were impressed by our 
 fulfilling of the Seventh Work of Mercy, and we were 
 able to make some observations when our men dug the 
 fosse commun. We found that the site of the cemetery 
 was over an important ruin, and made a mem. to attend 
 to it later. We were not allowed to excavate in grave- 
 yards, of course, and we might not have risked the 
 money and trouble necessary to doing it in a hole-and- 
 corner way if we had not been certain that the results 
 would justify the expenditure. 
 
 Then we dug the earth away all round my Kirabu. 
 It turned out to be a winged lion in fine alabaster. It 
 was in perfect preservation, though its fellow crumbled 
 away to powder on exposure to the air when we found 
 it after some tunnelling. They flanked the main door 
 of a temple ; when the fane was sacked and burnt six 
 and twenty centuries ago the one had been burnt to 
 lime, while the other remained intact. Islam ! We 
 drove a tunnel between them, and then it was the stock 
 tale of a successful Assyrian excavation. 
 
 Hall after hall was cleared, passage after passage, 
 court after court. Most of them were lined head high 
 with bas-reliefs, some whole, some lime. Every chamber
 
 Khorsdbad the Second 299 
 
 yielded treasure-trove : altars and ex voto#, libation 
 bowls and jars, votive cones and statuettes, bells and 
 cymbals, inscribed tablets from the temple library, 
 and cooking cauldrons, plates, and beakers from the 
 temple kitchen. We found the name of the temple, 
 too. It was E'Anna, the Heavenly Fane erected by 
 Asshur Dan in honour of his patron goddess, Ishtar, 
 Lady of War. The mounds to east covered the bones 
 of the city Dur- Asshur Dan. And in the middle of each 
 room, and across the doorways, and in every corner, 
 were little piles of flaking scales of armour, broken 
 helmets, rusted swords, and scraps of mouldering bone, 
 relics of the warriors and the soldier-priests who had 
 died hard, face to the foe and group by group, when 
 their sanctuary fell in days before Judah ceased to be 
 a kingdom and when Tyre ruled the waves from Ind 
 to Gades and the Tin Islands where our own forbears 
 wore woad and burnt victims to nameless Celtic and 
 Iberian gods. 
 
 In a few days the hut we had built in the enclosure 
 to shelter possible treasures was nearly full, and Evelyn 
 and I devoted our spare time to labelling the finds. 
 By that time our experienced workers had infected the 
 raw hands with their own enthusiasm for the trade, 
 and every soul about the Tel took passionate interest 
 in the discoveries. And they took the occasional repre- 
 sentations of elephants for giant pigs, and held firmly 
 to the belief that we Frankish Christians worshipped 
 them in the hut at night. 
 
 They worked in gangs of seven : two Chaldaeans to 
 break the soil with pick and fork, two strong Arabs 
 to shovel the loose mould into baskets, three others to 
 carry the baskets away and empty them over the edge 
 of the mound, and from dawn to dusk the Tel was like 
 a beehive turned inside out. The pickmen worked in 
 clouds of dust, the shovel-men in thicker billows, the
 
 300 Khorsabad the Second 
 
 basket-men staggered off with full loads to tip out and 
 aid in raising the densest cloud of all ; those with empty 
 baskets raced back howling. 
 
 Every one yelled incessantly, and, as the names of 
 saints and prophets and the most serious Name of all 
 are made very cheap in Asiatic Turkey, the general 
 tone was unedifying. 
 
 " In Name of Allah, you pickmen, give us more soil ! " 
 screamed the basket fillers. 
 
 " In Name of Allah, and of the Imaums most blessed, 
 do ye haste, O our brothers the fillers ! " bawled the 
 carriers. 
 
 " I take refuge in Allah from Satan the everlastingly 
 stoned ! " grunts the man who is tipping out his load. 
 
 " Alhamdu'1-llah ! Curses be everlastingly on the 
 Stoned Satan ! " lilts the one who is capering back to 
 the Kirabu. 
 
 And so on, ad nauseam. They worked all day, from 
 Morning Prayer to Sunset Prayer, with two stops for 
 Noon and Afternoon Prayer, and rested for an hour or 
 so when the sun was straight overhead and the children 
 trotted over from huts and tents with the bowls of 
 millet paste or little cakes of millet bread that formed 
 the one daylight meal. They rarely had anything 
 better, but were well content, happy fellows ! laughing 
 and telling stories as they ate in the shade of the 
 trenches, and then passed round the single jar of water 
 and shared a pipe together. We had all the drinking 
 water brought from a decent spring some miles away, 
 and it was a positive luxury to men who were accus- 
 tomed to drawing their supply from brackish desert 
 wells, or from village ponds where the village washing 
 was also carried out and the village animals found 
 a long last home. They counted themselves lucky folk, 
 and did not envy the Padishah or Sultana Victoria on 
 the days when a pedlar from Tekrit or Mahmudiah
 
 Khorsabad the Second 301 
 
 happened to wander on the Tel with an ass-load of 
 tobacco or dates and we bought his stock for distribu- 
 tion. 
 
 Ourselves we led a patriarchal life, tempered by deck 
 chairs, novels, and other small comforts. Before dawn, 
 by the light of Al Tarek, we went for a canter about the 
 Tel or a gallop on the plain, while the overseers got the 
 men up. After early breakfast serious work began; 
 the three men superintended, and we attended to the 
 commissariat and household affairs in general, labelled 
 and docketed finds, and interviewed the sick who 
 came for treatment and little children who made a 
 business of raking over the waste soil for stray frag- 
 ments of Antikahs and sold them to me for sweetmeats 
 and small change. 
 
 When the tunnels and trenches had been driven far 
 from the tents the men had lunch sent out, but they 
 always made themselves presentable and came to camp 
 at five p.m. " I've noticed that, whether it's Belgrave 
 Square, Seven Dials, or an Assyrian Tel the men in- 
 variably turn up at tea-time," Evelyn observed. And 
 she noted the fact in her diary, directly after an entry 
 about a tablet that sheds light on the siege of Jerusalem 
 under Sennacherib. 
 
 It would have been an earthly paradise but for the 
 American. His presence was like a shadow that 
 brooded over and spoilt all the sunlit days and scented 
 nights. It was galling, too, when after a time I 
 realised that I would have found him a welcome com- 
 rade if 1 
 
 If only I could have met him without seeing every 
 time recollection of the Rue de Pera and speculation 
 about the wood of Sliwa Klissia in his eyes. 
 
 He picked up the theory and practice of Assyriology 
 with a speed that endeared him to Papa; he learnt 
 vernacular Arabic, gutturals and all, at an astonishing
 
 S02 Khorsabad the Second 
 
 rate ; he stood the sun and the autumn climate as few 
 griffins can; he could keep his temper with the most 
 irritating gang of diggers ; and what a blessing he was 
 in the long evenings 1 
 
 Oh those evenings on Tel Abou Khatoun 1 Those 
 spans of Elysian rest after days of strenuous work, when 
 dinner was done with, and the sun had dipped, and the 
 moon and stars made half a white daylight, and our 
 workers' songs drifted up, distance- softened, from the 
 fires by the base of the Ziggorat hill I We would pitch 
 our chairs on the summit and watch the stars pace half 
 the sky, the world spread forth, far beneath us ; a 
 vast, dusky target, roughened at the eastern verge by 
 a toothed black line of hills and cut across the opposite 
 rim by the glinting river, and talk of the day's work 
 and the work that would be Furdah Inshallah 1 
 Sometimes Papa would talk of the stars, and of the folk 
 who had stared at them in their time from the land 
 where we now eyed them in our turn. He generally 
 began with Nimrod and ended with George Smith of 
 the prosaic name and romantically premature fate. 
 One's head whirled to think of it the same bright 
 spheres, and the same old earth, and the uncountable 
 myriads of eyes and feet that had gazed at the one and 
 trodden the other, and had become wind-blown dust 
 and ashes since Abram Ibn Therach went that way on 
 his route from Ur to Haran, and looked on the silver 
 marvel of the Chaldsean Host of Heaven, and had the 
 strength of brain and soul to see the One and Only One 
 beyond 1 
 
 And sometimes he would discourse of the farther 
 stars, thrusting a hand into the light and saying that 
 the white beam on it had taken three centuries to reach 
 the earth ; it had left its parent orb when the thunder of 
 the Armada guns was echoing back from the English 
 cliffs, and for all we knew that orb might have died into
 
 Khorsabad the Second . 303 
 
 dark since then, for all we thought we saw it up in the 
 blue velvet sky. 
 
 It was very horrid. Evelyn's sapphire eyes would 
 grow dusky and fearful, as though the light shining into 
 them from the stars she was looking at was darkness ; 
 Sulti, seated near me discreetly aside and busily knitting, 
 would roll her eyes unbelievingly, and I would realise 
 that I was an infinitesimal atom sticking to the surface 
 of a whirling globe a-spin for ever, like a Maulawi dervish 
 in the sounding, empty reaches of Space. 
 
 And then the American would produce his banjo and 
 bring us down to the jolly, solid earth again. 
 
 He played with spirit ; for another blessing his re- 
 pertoire was not unduly classical. After corking up 
 Papa, who can't sing and will sing, with one of the 
 special cigars I treasured for the purpose, we would make 
 our archaeological surroundings melodious with the 
 44 Cruisekeen Laun," " The Flowers that Bloom in the 
 Spring," " Sally in our Alley," and similar favourites, 
 while the workers stopped their own noises to listen. 
 Not that they liked Western music, but they thought 
 we were at our orisons, and it is only manners to let 
 people who pay you well say their prayers in peace. 
 And the jackals and hyaenas on night-duty in the 
 graveyard would contribute an occasional antiphonic 
 howl, until in time would come the dewfall to dissolve 
 the assembly.
 
 Chapter X 
 
 A SHARED SECRET 
 
 IN due course Chefket Bey arrived, and with him a force 
 of zaptieh so imposing that we felt quite secure against 
 the scourge of the country-side roaming bands of 
 desperate sneak thieves. 
 
 The worst drawback, altogether, was that Piers was 
 so perpetually busy over improving Evelyn's mind in 
 his spare hours, and hours filched from business, that 
 the work both did was a negligible quantity. I had 
 not the heart to spoil their good time, and the conse- 
 quence was that Mr. Wilbur and I had to get through 
 four people's share of clerical work. And two people 
 can only do the work of four by mutual forbearance and 
 arrangement. 
 
 It was trying, and, as Papa was under the impression 
 that I was glad to have a contemporary in attendance, 
 only one person was available to whom I could confide 
 my real sentiments. 
 
 " What, thou hatest the man, my Rathia Khatoun ?'* 
 said she. " Why ? " Here she peered at me offensively. 
 ** An intruder, sayest thou ? But the others like him, 
 and when before have I known thee take sufficient 
 interest in a man to dislike him actively ? " 
 
 " I have hated men before, and that thou knowest, 
 Sulti." 
 
 " For definite reasons. Particularly if they were 
 discourteous to servants or the poor, or abused children 
 
 304
 
 A Shared Secret 305 
 
 or animals. Ever those were the chief reasons for thy 
 hatings. Now this Wilbur Effen' is the son of an owner 
 of slaves, he owned slaves in his own youth, he knoweth 
 how to treat ail becomingly. And does he not endure 
 that Eblis-begotten Semiramis with patience ? As to 
 children, thou knowest that we would never have got 
 the date-stone out of little Suttum's throat yesterday if 
 Wilbur Eifen' had not kept the child amused with the 
 wheels of his watch." Here she switched off at a tangent : 
 44 My Rathia Khatoun, why didst thou not tell us fully 
 of Bitfa ? " 
 
 " Why, Sulti, am I so fond of endless talk ? " 
 hedged. 
 
 " Thou toldest us fully of Mouschat and Kalmaru." 
 
 " Because Evelyn was there. Besides, I was too 
 upset at Bitfa to care to discuss it." 
 
 " Mar Geework ! Then Wilbur Effen' was present 
 on the one occasion in thy life in which thou wast dis- 
 countenanced," she replied. 
 
 There was no help, only innuendo, to be got from 
 Sulti. 
 
 The morning of our departure came. A little rain 
 had fallen, and Papa had decided to go back with us to 
 Mosul for the wet season, while Piers and the American 
 were to stop and keep the diggings on, in a modest 
 way, until our return in spring. A piece of work had 
 to be done, work for experts, before we went, and long 
 before Breath of Morn we all turned out. 
 
 The last stars were still shining overhead in the grey 
 rawness when we assembled outside the enclosure, all 
 of us muffled to the eyes, Miksi laden with tapes and 
 pegs, and the old Bey in attendance because he liked 
 early hours and to see other people at work. We were 
 to trace the walls of the Ziggorat enclosure, and the 
 hour was one of our tools. In the early morning the 
 tops of buried walls, indistinguishable otherwise from
 
 806 A Shared) Secret 
 
 the ground, collect so much dew that they show as 
 gigantic snail- tracks. 
 
 We had scarcely assembled when the desolate silence 
 of morning was broken by a loud and increasing clamour 
 from the servants' quarters, and a scared messenger 
 ran up. A pickman had arranged to keep back a 
 cylinder for a Baghdad curio agent who was foxing 
 round ; the transaction had just been discovered by 
 loyal workers, and it would take Papa, Miksi, and Piers 
 to save the lives of the culprits. 
 
 Papa said " Dear me ! " in a tone that made it 
 sound very wicked. " Rathia, you'll kindly help Wilbur 
 to do the tracing," he ordered, over a shoulder, as he 
 pelted off. 
 
 So we went, four of us, down the slope. The Tel was 
 dreary in the silence accentuated by echoes from the 
 seat of disturbance. We could look round at the 
 country stretching, blank and eerie, to the skyline, 
 where the vague beginnings of sky floated in a sea of 
 mistiness to arch overhead in a clearer grey with the 
 paling moon and a few stars in it. Below us was the 
 hummocky pile of the Tel, nearest the slope with the 
 cemetery on it, the stones only marked by their shadows. 
 There was no breeze, but the trees made a crisp little 
 noise among their branches, as though they shivered in 
 the raw chill. 
 
 " Thus it was we did the guard rounds at Plevna," 
 said the Bey, impressed. " Khatoun Effen', are we 
 bound for the graves ? " 
 
 ** Verily, Effen', look how the lines run." 
 
 The buried wall-tops were very distinct to whoso 
 knew what they were, shimmering almost from our feet 
 into the haziness where the tombs were. They glistened 
 in broken interlacing rectangles, interrupted here and 
 there where blown earth was right over them. The 
 American stamped in a peg and I paced the outermost
 
 A Shared Secret 307 
 
 line, paying out tape as I proceeded. ' We might as 
 well do something until my father comes," I remarked. 
 
 " It is written on the forehead," murmured the Bey. 
 The old Plevna hero was horribly afraid of a graveyard 
 in anything but full daylight; but he dare not show 
 the white feather before Giaours. So the three followed 
 behind me. At the first of the outlying tombs I stopped 
 instinctively until he came up and pronounced, with 
 hand lifted in salutation, the Greeting of the Grave : 
 
 " Peace be with ye, O Dwellers in the Graves ! May 
 Allah have mercy on us and ye 1 Ye have gone before, 
 we are travelling after ! " 
 
 " Amen," said I shamelessly. Evelyn and the 
 American looked respectfully awkward, as Occidentals 
 always do at a suggestion of mixed religions. I went 
 on, skirting tombs and climbing mounds as the glisten- 
 ing line led. 
 
 " Fifty-six paces," said Mr. Wilbur when we reached 
 a cross way. He put it in a note- book, stamped in a 
 peg, and glanced at me. 
 
 " Ruling Passion's going strong," he observed, 
 believe, Miss Jerningham, you say that Greeting when- 
 ever you spy a tomb, but you don't kick, do you, when 
 the sacred call of Assyriology demands the grubbing up 
 of a graveyard ? " 
 
 " If we excavate under such circumstances we tunnel 
 under interment level, as you ought to know," I replied, 
 mounting an eminence to get a good view of the field of 
 operations. 
 
 " Oh, I know now, something," he agreed. 
 
 The dew was still making a ground mist. Behind us 
 Evelyn and the old Bey had stopped. The old man was 
 discoursing eagerly, the girl listening with deep interest. 
 
 The words : " And so Osman Effen' bade us " came 
 
 to me, and I knew he was fighting his battles over again, 
 and she was gathering material for her 4i arv - Up
 
 308 A Shared Secret 
 
 against the paling sky the dew decked their heads with 
 opalescent haloes. I looked back at the American, and 
 caught his gaze fixed on me. He dropped his eyes 
 guiltily, and I reddened. He had no business to be 
 considering how I looked with a halo on. 
 
 " We will try that line farther out," I ordered. " The 
 dew will be up soon." 
 
 We scrambled over an intervening knoll, and started 
 along a very broad track. It led through the thickest 
 packed part of the burial-ground, the glister of it broken 
 in parts by tombstones. I went first, and Mr. Wilbur 
 followed silently, stamping in pegs when the line re- 
 quired them. When I stopped to look Evelyn and the 
 Bey were sitting on two stones, deep in conversation. 
 A little farther on we reached the brim of a ravine that 
 cut across the wall-track. To the right the. side of the 
 incline was plain earth, to the left the edge glistened 
 in parts. At my feet a buttress-like projection went 
 straight down to the bottom of the hollow. 
 
 " I'm much mistaken if we have not located an angle 
 of the girding wall," I pronounced. " Don't you see ? 
 It turns to the left to encircle the Ziggorat mound. 
 Look at those glistening places in the hollow, bits of 
 the outer coating of burnt brick." 
 
 " Then it's probable the foundation cylinders are 
 down there ? Won't Sir Home be pleased ? Shall we 
 get down and prospect, Miss Jerningham ? " 
 
 If Mr. Wilbur expected to lend me a helping hand 
 he was mistaken. I was in the ravine before he had 
 decided where to descend. " I don't believe any one 
 could find this except by following the dew-trail," he 
 declared, as we inspected the ground. " I say, isn't 
 there rather a lot of tombs about here ? " 
 
 I shrugged my shoulders. " That's my father's 
 affair." 
 
 " What a double personality you are ! " he observed.
 
 A Shared Secret 309 
 
 " Miss Jerningham amongst the sick and dying simply 
 has no connection with Miss Jerningham out after finds. 
 I suppose it is because you are half Eastern and half 
 Western." 
 
 " You appear to expend a great deal of thinking on 
 my genealogy," I retorted, rather astounded at his 
 impudent daring. 
 
 " Yes, I've discovered that the combination is ex- 
 cellent. If you were an ordinary person it would take 
 two distinct people to do what you manage. It's very 
 convenient all round, Miss Jerningham." 
 
 I looked up sharply, and read the real meaning in his 
 eyes. An apology for the Rue de Pera. He knew I 
 read it, too. That I could also see. 
 
 "I've learnt to understand this," he proceeded. 
 " Indeed, I've learnt a lot since I came to the East, Miss 
 Jerningham. Don't you believe I have ? " 
 
 I did. And he knew I did. If it had only been a 
 matter of the Rue de Pera I could have laughed and 
 assented. For a moment I was ready to do it. Then I 
 remembered the wood of Sliwa Klissia. 
 
 " You have not learnt to refrain from conversation 
 in the middle of work," I returned, and proceeded to 
 inspect the buttress. Loose stones composed it, and 
 loose soil heaped against it by the S.E. wind. Down 
 this I had run, and the light stuff, disturbed by my heels, 
 was trickling down. 
 
 " Hullo, I do believe there's something there ! " said 
 Mr. Wilbur. 
 
 44 Not cylinders," I amended. " The wall must go 
 deeper. That's only loose stones tumbled from the 
 top." 
 
 One does not often find treasures at the surface ; still, 
 it is advisable to be prudent. Mr. Wilbur set to work> 
 raking away the light soil and pulling aside broken 
 pieces of limestone. " Gold I " he exclaimed, as a glint
 
 310 A Shared Secret 
 
 of the red metal glowed in the soil against the bank. 
 It was the undark darkest hour before dawn, but light 
 was beginning to split greyly along the eastern verge, 
 and our trained eyes could see well enough. Mr. 
 Wilbur's clasp knife caught something; he hooked in 
 his fingers, pulled, and brought away something large 
 and flapping, while a cascade of soil was swept aside as 
 he jerked his arm, and the hidden was revealed. 
 
 " Don't look, Miss Haroun 1 " he shouted, horror- 
 stricken and too shocked to remember for the moment 
 that I was much more hardened than he. What he 
 had pulled away was the frinting remnant of a cloak, 
 an Arab woman's seble'h, and at our feet, amid a mere 
 powdering of soil, lay a skeleton, face down. The gold 
 we had seen was part of a diadem of coins that hung 
 round the skull. 
 
 " I I've disturbed a grave," Mr. Wilbur faltered. 
 
 " No," I hastened to reassure him. 
 
 " A crime ? " he hinted. 
 
 " Perhaps." I was regarding the find thoughtfully. 
 ** If so it is strange. She is stretched out quite peace- 
 fully, you see, her hands under her face." 
 
 " A woman ? " his voice dropped. He was not yet 
 used to the death and decay boltered land of the Two 
 Great Rivers. 
 
 I took the knife and made more investigations, 
 ** Years ago," I decreed, " and no crime. Don't you 
 see this line of stones ? " 
 
 I indicated a little rectangle of pebbles set neatly 
 end to end. " That's the way Arabs mark a grave, you 
 know," I added. 
 
 " It's only two feet long," he objected. 
 
 * 4 A child's," I returned. " It's easy to understand 
 now, is it not ? A woman dead with her head on a 
 child's grave and her face in her hands. No crime here." 
 
 The American snatched off his hat. *' I'm a coarse
 
 A Shared Secret 311 
 
 fool ! " he exclaimed, " I begin to see. She killed 
 herself." 
 
 " Eastern women rarely commit suicide," I proceeded. 
 ** They do not need to do so as a rule." 
 
 " Oh Lord ! " said the American, and his face was 
 white and pitying. " Women are the same every- 
 where. My own mother died a week after my father, 
 and for no reason the doctors could describe." 
 
 We stood for a little while looking down silently at 
 the poor symbols of tragedy. " What's to be done ? " 
 asked Mr. Wilbur, his tone reverently hushed. ** Shall 
 we call some of the men ? " 
 
 " Stones fell down to keep her from the jackals," I 
 replied. " I don't like to be harder than the stones." 
 
 " You forget, Miss Haroun. Allah made them fall." 
 
 " Of course. I never thought I could forget that' 
 there's no such thing as a fortuitous combination of 
 circumstance." 
 
 ** We all do, and say, things foreign to our real nature 
 at times," he replied softly. 
 
 " Well, I cannot do this." 
 
 ** No more can I." He knelt, but hesitated. 
 
 " Miss Haroun, it is not that I am afraid of such 
 things " he said, looking at me. 
 
 I knelt beside him. It did seem more fitting that 
 another woman should handle the poor relics. Without 
 needing orders Mr. Wilbur dug a hole within the line 
 of stones. It was strange how we thought alike when 
 absorbed by this piece of bitter real life. To finish we 
 piled back the earth and knelt undecided. 
 
 " I suppose she was Moslem ? " he hinted, 
 
 I raised my hands and repeated the Fatihah and the 
 Greeting of the Grave. " Sit tibi terra levis," I con- 
 cluded. 
 
 " Amen ! " responded Mr. Wilbur heartily. He 
 gave me a hand up and I forgot to disregard it.
 
 312 A Shared Secret 
 
 We climbed up again to our pegs and tapes. Evelyn 
 and her old escort were sauntering in search of us, not 
 too hurriedly. 
 
 " The foundation cylinders will be there," I said, 
 with a gesture. Then I wrenched the first peg out of 
 the ground. A vigorous tug at the line brought out 
 the next one. We walked to it, taking in the tape. 
 By the time we had paced to the first peg day had 
 broken and the sun leapt over the horizon with the 
 electrifying suddenness he reserves for the East. 
 Evelyn and the Bey were not far off ; from the other 
 side of the mound Papa and Piers were coming, tiny in 
 the distance. 
 
 Before either party could reach us the sun's rays 
 caught the mound and from all the soil there swirled 
 up a thick, delicate haze. For a moment I stood with 
 the American in a white mist that hid all the world 
 but our two selves. Then the last of the dew gathered 
 into an ephemeral, ethereal cloud, and dispersed itself 
 in the warmed air. The ground was dry again, nothing 
 served to distinguish buried walls from common earth. 
 
 Said Evelyn, when she reached us : " Have you two 
 done no work ? And your .hands are filthy. I should 
 keep an eye on you." 
 
 " There's nothing to be done in this part," I asserted. 
 
 " Nothing," Mr. Wilbur confirmed. 
 
 Here Papa reached us and put a query. " No use 
 trying here, Sir Home," the American volunteered, 
 before I could speak. 
 
 Tel Abou Khatoun and my example had certainly 
 corrupted his morals. 
 
 " That's my report, dad," I decreed, shamelessly 
 trading on my reputation. 
 
 And that is why to this day that part of Tel Abou 
 Khatoun has guarded its probable treasures undis- 
 turbed. Rathia of the Abbasside and Jerningham lines
 
 A Shared Secret 313 
 
 decreed it was hopeless, and a new generation of 
 Assyriologists will have to arise before her dictum is 
 questioned. 
 
 " I see there's something stronger than Ruling 
 Passion," the American whispered as he stood at 
 Arjamand's head later in the morning. " My education 
 is proceeding rapidly." 
 
 It was the way he looked at me that pointed the 
 remark. His eyes began by being quizzical, and in a 
 moment, holding mine, turned sombre with a hidden, 
 fierce light at the back. " Miss' Haroun," he said, his 
 tone hard with the control he was keeping on his voice, 
 "some day we are going to understand one another." 
 
 And all the way to Mosul annoyance was at the 
 back of my mind over the reflection that I had been 
 forced into the intimacy of a shared secret with the 
 man who had reason to think thoughts about the 
 wood of Sliwa Klissia.
 
 BOOK IV 
 THE HARVESTING
 
 Chapter I 
 
 THE NEW POLITE SPY 
 
 THE wet months at Mosul passed at lightning pace on 
 the pinions of agreeable work. As fellow-creatures we 
 pitied the Henriots, but as trade rivals the annihilation 
 of the Louvre Expedition's first successes was the last 
 drop in our cup of joy. Occasionally Papa rode to the 
 Tel, sometimes one of the young men came to town; 
 Mr. Wilbur to squire some unusually precious find, 
 Piers more often on excuses that meant that, as long 
 as he lingered, I had to sit up late and do Evelyn's 
 share of the docketing and other work. We kept 
 Christmas, all five of us, in a forty-eight hours' down- 
 pour that was seasonable enough for the time in 
 England. And on a changeable, sun - and - showery 
 March day we took up residence again on the Ziggorat. 
 With the river in flood we shot El Awayi all standing, 
 and came to the old landing-place within thirty hours. 
 It rained all the way from Kalah Shergat ; the banks 
 were melting morasses, edged with slimy rottenness of 
 dead weeds. The porous ground around the Tel was 
 an undulating sea of brown moistness, the Tel all soppy 
 in the hollows and damp at the heights. The water- 
 course of my first entry was running chest-deep, and 
 we made our state return under the charge of an Arab 
 and Chaldsean guard of honour who all suffered from 
 cold in the head, and could not honour us with the 
 usual powder-play owing to the humidity of the powder. 
 It is like that in the Orient sometimes. 
 
 317
 
 318 The New Polite Spy 
 
 " If this continues to-morrow, you girls go straight 
 home," Papa announced gloomily. 
 
 But it was all big stars and a haloeless moon that night, 
 and dry next morning, and within a few days of our 
 arrival the barren plain had become a sea of verdure 
 with opal splashes of wild-flowers to foam the crests 
 of it. One night it was bare, the next morning a thin 
 mist of greenness had crept over it, in a few more days 
 it was thick with grass and herbs, under burning 
 sunshine by day and bracing frost at night. Flowers 
 by the acre spread themselves over the erstwhile desert, 
 too, so that the green was almost hidden in succession 
 by enamelling of pale gold, white, and mauve, as crocus, 
 arum- lily, and tulip followed one another. Spring is 
 spring round about the Two Great Rivers. 
 
 One familiar figure was missing. Chefket had 
 retired to a life of fresh activity. Turks on Government 
 pensions do not rust ; rather, the effort to extract two 
 quarterly instalments per annum keeps them fresh to 
 incredible ages. So we were glad for our old favourite, 
 but apprehensive for ourselves. 
 
 A week after our arrival his successor came. On a 
 cheery Tuesday afternoon sounds of some excitement 
 reached us as we waited for the men at the mystic 
 hour of five. " Our new Overlord has arrived, girls," 
 announced Piers, coming up. " Rejoice, for he is 
 quite good-looking." 
 
 " What do good looks matter when we'll all have to 
 be good now ? " sighed Harvey Wilbur, approaching 
 from another part of the Tel. " You hear, Miss 
 Evelyn ? No more pocketing of winged bulls and 
 slipper coffins on the sly Why-y " 
 
 Papa came up, ushering a smart figure in military 
 undress. " Halet Bey, Rathia, my dear," Papa an- 
 nounced. " My eldest daughter, Miss Jerningham, Bey 
 EffenY?
 
 The New Polite Spy 319 
 
 The new-comer bowed, unsurprised. I probably 
 looked as astounded as Mr. Wilbur did as I recognised 
 the prematurely portly person, stolid features, and 
 outstanding ears of the Mutessariff of Bitfa. 
 
 ** Allah hath permitted me the felicity of encounter- 
 ing Jerningham Effendina before," he said as he bowed. 
 " And I perceive He hath guided my steps again into 
 the path of Wilbur Effen'." 
 
 We went through the necessary explanations. " But 
 this is a long way from Bitfa, Bey Effen'," I said when 
 we were settled. 
 
 " Effen', I am no longer of Bitfa. It pleased our 
 most gracious lord the Padishah, for the sake of his 
 servant's health, to permit my removal from an in- 
 clement district to an agreeable one, and from a post of 
 onerous honour to one less onerous and more honour- 
 able." 
 
 The meaning was, of course, that he had been turned 
 out of his office, and degraded to the small and stagnant 
 post of looking after us. A great fall for a Mutessariff. 
 He had left Bitfa some time before, so could give 
 little recent news from that district. " Only the 
 Padishah hath decided against the Gadarwands in 
 their dispute with Ischaryar of Kalmaru," he informed 
 me. " They have had to pay compensation to Ischar- 
 yar for falling unlawfully and unprovoked on his band 
 in the hills. As to the villages that were attacked 
 near Kharlis, some of Ischaryar's men have been 
 quartered there for their protection." 
 
 This was an exact parallel to putting a few wolves 
 in a sheepfold to defend it from the pack outside the 
 palings, still it was only what one would expect. Evelyn 
 forestalled me at that point with an eager inquiry as 
 to whether our informant knew how all was with the 
 family of Ischaryar. 
 
 " Effen', when I left Bitfa all was well, by Allah's
 
 320 The New Polite Spy 
 
 grace, at Kalmaru, nor had death or sickness entered 
 by the door of the most excellent Ischaryar Beg," he 
 replied. This was as much as one Moslem could be 
 expected to say of another Moslem's domestic affairs. 
 
 " Mar Geework, Rathia Khatoun ! What doth this 
 man here ? " demanded Sulti, when I went in for my 
 topi, presently. 
 
 " Halet Bey, Sulti ? He is Chefket Bey's successor.'? 
 
 44 Sent to spy on us after being a Mutessariff at the 
 other end of the country ? And he was of Bitfa when 
 thou wast there ! " 
 
 " Coincidences are odd, Sulti." 
 
 " Please Allah and Mart Maryam, I do not like coinci- 
 dences, my Rathia Khatoun." 
 
 " Sulti, thou art foolish. It is but chance that he 
 is here." 
 
 " Chance ? " she repeated. " * Chance ' is the biggest 
 word in the world." 
 
 "He is a good man, and kind to Christians, by all 
 accounts." 
 
 " A Turk who is kind to Christians while in office in 
 the wilds well, please God, when that mare of thine 
 whinnies and would rub her nose on me I keep an eye 
 on her hind-hoofs. That is all I have to report, Rathia 
 Khatoun." 
 
 I was not disposed to notice her croakings, beyond 
 being a little annoyed that she should entertain sus- 
 picions I did not share, for I knew her acumen in 
 judging character as a rule, and prided myself on my 
 own. All was forgotten soon, however, as we pro- 
 ceeded to show the Bey the mound. 
 
 Piers and Mr. Wilbur had returned to their work. 
 That left four of us to descend from the aristocratic 
 calm of the Ziggorat to the curse-boltered pandemonium 
 that was toward, in a setting of dust clouds, all over 
 the northerly heaps. It was getting on towards
 
 The New Polite Spy 321 
 
 knocking off time; one of the overseers had stuck a 
 bamboo in the soil at a level spot, with a line scratched 
 to East of it. When the cast shadow touched the line 
 work would cease, the line was therefore the cynosure 
 of all eyes and thoughts. 
 
 Dust was the keynote of everything. Dust, dust, 
 and still more dust billowing round everything, saving 
 the sea-green sky and the sombre upper peaks of the 
 Tel, in clouds touched to rose at the edges by the 
 setting sun. Certain caverns in the ground were the 
 foci towards which strings of vociferating figures 
 flew, with elf-locks tossing and baskets brandished 
 frantically, and from which other files of equally frantic, 
 half-clad creatures emerged with full baskets, trotting 
 to empty them over the lip of a ravine and then join 
 the other line. 
 
 Amidst it stood the overseers, calm in the storm, 
 using their sticks at intervals, and taking down the 
 names of those who were to claim the prospective 
 reward for a find. The ravine was the general dump- 
 ing place ; it was nearly full of dust-clouds ; little children 
 with charmed lives were grubbing in the debris for stray 
 finds overlooked at the fountain-head. As we passed 
 they saluted us with the grey-beard gravity of oriental 
 childhood. 
 
 The term Buried City raises in the mind an image 
 of the Coliseum, Baalbec, Persepolis, at the worst 
 Pompeii. Here dust and holes were the sole traces 
 of bygone glory. We skirted the actual scene of 
 present operations, to a part that had been sufficiently 
 scooped out for the while, and Antiquity at last greeted 
 us, to wit my own particular Kirabu smiling beside a 
 cavern in a bank. The Kirabu passage was considered 
 unsafe, so we climbed the bank and descended a flight 
 of steps into a yawning pit. According to surrounding 
 circumstances the excavations are either trenches open 
 11
 
 322 The New Polite Spy 
 
 to the sky, or tunnels ; these steps led to an open trench 
 lined at either side, ear high, with slabs of alabaster. 
 Some of the slabs were reduced to lime, and dribbled 
 away at a touch, others too scorched to be distinguish- 
 able, a few fairly preserved covered with inscriptions 
 or carved in low relief with gods and kings, battle 
 scenes, or sacrificial processions. 
 
 At the far end, flanking a doorway, were two great 
 slabs. On each of them Asshur Dan the King, tall as 
 ourselves, offered a fir-cone and poured libations before 
 the be-ribboned sacred maypole, while two bird-headed 
 figures stood behind him approvingly. The doorway 
 was guarded by two marble lions, which presented to us 
 jaws snarling open wide enough to take in a man's 
 head. We had to take tapers from a stock hidden near 
 before entering that portal. 
 
 It led into a great hall. We had not fully excavated 
 this, or any other apartment of the complex. It would 
 take a short lifetime and a long fortune to do that. The 
 plan is to drive a tunnel, some seven feet high and five 
 wide, along the wall of each side, clearing out all door- 
 ways, and treating the other rooms into which they 
 open in the same way. The place is therefore a warren 
 of narrow, straight passages, stuffy in spite of occasional 
 air shafts, lined on one side by a wall of brick, faced 
 with marble slabs, plain or carven, on the other by the 
 solid earth that fills the chambers and roofs all. 
 
 Some of the slabs were fairly intact, and the feeble 
 light of our tapers glimmered fantastically on gods and 
 kings in scorched relief, on battles and triumphal pro- 
 cessions, on religious ceremonies, on squadrons sweep- 
 ing forth in endless lines and captives marching in 
 dragging double files. Asshur Dan had it all carved to 
 the glory of his gods and the eternal memory of his 
 own majesty seven- and- twenty centuries ago, that the 
 whole earth might remember him for ever. Now we
 
 The New Polite Spy 323 
 
 think we have made out his name correctly, but will 
 not be too certain about it. 
 
 Half-way along a wall we encountered Mr. Wilbur. 
 He squatted under a taper and was sketching a tablet 
 opposite, which was so rapidly crumbling that even 
 the wind of our passing in the confined space set up 
 a bigger trickle. When we had passed him I chanced 
 to look back as I stopped to disengage my skirt from 
 a bone that protruded from the earth- wall. He had 
 paused in his work to look after us, and his eyes 
 were following the Bey, his forehead puckered per- 
 plexedly. This quite upset my previous impression 
 that whenever I could surprise his look it was always 
 bestowed on me. An extraordinary annoyance was in 
 my mind until it occurred to me that the ex-Mutessariff 
 reminded him of Bitfa and Sliwa Klissia. I had 
 actually almost forgotten that unspeakable incident 
 in the past months. Mr. Wilbur's look was absent, 
 as though half remembering something; it dawned 
 on me that, perhaps, he had forgotten too, and the sight 
 of Halet Bey had roused memory. 
 
 Evelyn, disengaging my dress, noticed my reddened 
 cheeks and misconstrued the meaning. " Stuffy, isn't 
 it, dear girl ? " she observed. " And don't you feel 
 as though you had been wandering here ever since your 
 memory began ? " 
 
 I did. It seemed as though many ages had dropped, 
 like a curtain, between our meeting the American at his 
 work and the happy time in which we had both for- 
 gotten Sliwa Klissia. We went on past rippling lines 
 of gods and kings and captives, and came to another 
 portal, guarded by the frinting stumps of what had 
 been limestone bulls, and so out into free air again. 
 
 This was the eastern end of the Temple complex and 
 the ravine that bounded it was at our feet. The sun 
 was at dipping point, a canescent. quivering disk,
 
 324 The New Polite Spy 
 
 behind us ; in front, the shadow of the Tel stretched, 
 clear-cut, far over the plain. Beyond its verge the land 
 rippled, gay with grass and flowers, to the greying 
 eastern sky where the moon hung, colourless as yet. 
 Along the ravine our sight, becoming adjusted to the 
 shadow of the mound, discerned various curious ap- 
 pearances. A sulphurous odour also forced itself on 
 our attention. 
 
 " Bitumen pits," said the Bey, and expressed a desire 
 to view them nearer. 
 
 The way was a yard-wide goat-track along the ravine, 
 twenty feet below the rim and fifty above the bottom, 
 with a perpendicular slope sheer to the pools in the 
 depths of the depression. They were big pools, four in 
 number, many yards in extent, deep-set and sullen. 
 The water was too bad even for Arab use, the earth 
 around was fire-blackened, the margin of each rimmed 
 by a growing circle of bitumen, sombre and glister- 
 ing. The surface of the water was hidden by a viscid, 
 yellow layer of naphtha, all over it great bubbles 
 rose and burst at slow intervals, adding the sulphur to 
 the characteristic pitchy reek, and sending out languid 
 ripples accompanied by fragments of black scum that 
 floated to attach themselves to the increasing rim. 
 
 Some one will make a fortune out of the naphtha-pits 
 of the Two Rivers some day. We, like the rest of the 
 indigenes, made use of ours as a cheap substitute for 
 fireworks. A match dropped in after dark made a 
 Brock's Benefit until the water was burnt clear, and in a 
 few hours another accumulation would be ready for a 
 fresh display. So prodigal is Nature round the Two 
 Rivers. 
 
 Over the lower far bank of the ravine we could see 
 the plain, dotted with black tents and reed-huts, running 
 to the heights on the horizon. Along the ravine-rim 
 some Arabs were driving a little flock homewards,
 
 The New Polite Spy 325 
 
 pretending to drive them from a reaving expedition ; a 
 line of camels lurched rhythmically between the lines 
 of tents, a woman's figure to be faintly made out on the 
 foremost, a man leading all on ass-back as it might be 
 Eleazar bringing home Rebekah to his master's tent. 
 It was a double-sided view : the peaceful evening scene 
 beyond the ravine, ourselves up in the sunset light, 
 between, at our feet, the menacing pools down in the 
 dark. " It seems to me this is an allegory," I observed. 
 *' There's a depth of darkness and horror in the fairest 
 aspects of life." 
 
 " It seems to me that round darkness and horror the 
 fairest aspect of life may lie," retorted Evelyn. Piers 
 had deserted work to come and hold her hand while she 
 craned over for a view. 
 
 We retraced our way, overground now, and reached 
 the Temple mound as the shadow of the bamboo touched 
 the line. As the blessed event came to pass overseer 
 after overseer blew his whistle, the lines of workers ran 
 together in wild confusion, for a few minutes pande- 
 monium reigned, then came a sudden hush only ac- 
 centuated by the pad of bare feet. In some wonderful 
 way tools had been put in store, and the labourers were 
 trooping off in orderly squadrons. The dust of their 
 going settled as the sun dipped and shade came over 
 the world. A change came over the erstwhile hectoring 
 overseers. 
 
 " Salatu '1 Isha, my brethren," said the eldest, ad- 
 dressing the few workers who lingered. He drew three 
 ringers over his turban and sandals, stuck his rod in the 
 sand, and faced it. The others ranged behind him. 
 They all contented themselves with the three-finger 
 substitute for ablutions ; they had grown so used to 
 their burrowing aftiongst bones that they had ceased 
 to regard it as polluting enough to require the full 
 \vashings before prayer. The Bey, being newer to the
 
 326 The New Polite, Spy 
 
 Tel, regarded himself as hopelessly polluted by his 
 wanderings amidst the works of dead infidels, and 
 merely passed his fingers over his ears as promise to 
 attend to his vespers when he encountered a supply of 
 water. So we slipped away quietly and left them 
 bowing in unison to the muttered Arabic that none of 
 them understood. 
 
 " I say, Miss Jerningham," said Harvey Wilbur, when 
 he got me by myself that evening. " It's a far cry from 
 Bitfa, as Mutessariff, to Tel Abou Khatoun as small-fry 
 spy. Don't you think so ? " 
 
 " Life is full of coincidences," I replied. 
 
 " I distrust coincidences." He rubbed his lean blue 
 chin in a puzzled way. " The Governor of a big town 
 when you were there ; now degraded to small spy at 
 the place where you are." 
 
 " Well, what of that ? " I demanded, flushing. 
 
 " I don't know," he stuck to his guns doggedly. 
 " But I had a kind of feeling when Sir Home introduced 
 him. You know the kind of feeling, Miss Jerningham. 
 Intuition." 
 
 " You seem to imply that, for some occult reason, 
 Halet Bey has been sent to spy on us " I hoped my 
 voice did not sound as angry as I felt " for something 
 that happened at Bitfa. Orientals are anything but 
 fools as a rule ; don't you think it would be a little 
 tactless to send him after me ? So obvious." 
 
 " Whoever set him on might think that the obvious- 
 ness would draw the wool over your eyes," he proceeded. 
 
 " No Oriental would pay so poor a compliment to a 
 woman's intelligence, I'm sure." 
 
 He pursed his lips dubiously. " I'm distrustful," he 
 persisted. 
 
 " You have no reason for suspiciofc," I replied. 
 
 " Only instinct, and I tell you, Miss Jerningham, you 
 can always put your money on Instinct when it's having
 
 The New Polite Spy 327 
 
 a quarrel with Reason. Instinct will wing its way on 
 a bee-line to Truth, while Reason is side-tracking amongst 
 the ground- trails." 
 
 " I agree with you to some extent, Mr. Wilbur. For 
 instance, though I have no actual reasons for the sup- 
 position, instinct tells me I might be interested in your 
 latest sketches if you'll be good enough to let me see 
 them." 
 
 He lingered a minute, rubbing his chin. Some day 
 we will understand one another. Instinct tells me so," 
 he said, and went for the sketch-book.
 
 Chapter II 
 
 THE GUNS OF SLIWA KUSSIA 
 
 THE weeks went on : Eskisi gibi, as they say round 
 about the Two Rivers. That is the unofficial motto of 
 Turkey, and it means : " The same old way." 
 
 We would have found an archangel faulty if he had 
 stepped into dear old Chefket's shoes, but Halet Bey 
 proved as satisfactory as any mere mortal could under 
 the circumstances. We found he was Constantinople 
 born and bred, and he seemed to have shaped as decently 
 as any one could after an upbringing in an atmosphere of 
 officialdom hard by the Galata Bridge. He was con- 
 scientious in strict moderation over his duties, grateful 
 for our claret and illustrated papers, and led the workers' 
 prayers when he happened to be handy. So the spring 
 went and summer came, scorching up vegetation, drying 
 our private torrent, turning the trenches into bakeries 
 and the tunnels into ovens, and at times nearly over- 
 whelming everything but the highest peaks in sand- 
 whirlwinds. It was not the pleasantest season of the 
 year, but we were healthily situated out on the free 
 plain, and it would have been worse in odoriferous Mosul 
 or scorching Baghdad. 
 
 It was towards the end of May, on a cool evening 
 after a broiling day, that my most tenderly nursed 
 project came to full bud. The Bey and the American 
 were in their own quarters, Piers and Evelyn were 
 wandering at large, and Papa and I were peacefully 
 
 32 s
 
 The Guns of Sliwa Klissia 329 
 
 enjoying the evening breeze and trying to keep the 
 winged legions of the dusk at bay with fans and cigar- 
 
 ettes. 
 
 " Those children have been out in the sun all day," 
 said Papa, blinking to where two little white dots were 
 meandering down the Temple slope. " I don't know 
 why they haven't been sunstruck yet," he grunted. 
 " They should have been, ages ago, by all the rules of 
 common sense." 
 
 " Please God, Effen', a fire does not get sunstruck, 
 volunteered Sulti, who was passing. 
 
 " Hey ? Why, Sulti, we were speaking of those 
 foolish children, Evelyn Khatoun and Piers Effen'." 
 
 "And I presumed to reassure you, Effen'. Please 
 God, those two will not bs struck by the fiercest sun- 
 shaft just now. So hath He ordained." 
 
 "Why, Sulti, thou art mysterious. I suppose thy 
 meaning is that the skulls of the young folk are thick. 
 Yet a while ago thou spakest of fire, of a counter-fire to 
 the sun's flames." 
 
 " Why, please God, Effen', there's a kind of fire that 
 may be contained in a thick skull as well as a thin." 
 
 And she passed on, after bestowing on me a free- 
 masonic look that said : " Lord, how dense the cleverest 
 of males can be ! " Papa opened his mouth for a 
 remark, but closed it as the pair under discussion entered 
 the enclosure and advanced to us. Piers was a nice 
 bright brick-red, against which his eyes and moustache 
 showed as hiati, Evelyn was a little pale under the 
 inevitable tan, but calm. He showed a coy inclination 
 to hang back, she kept hold of his sleeve with a thumb 
 and finger, and turned a deaf ear to his whispers. 
 
 " Well, children," Papa beamed on them. " Are you 
 tired of solitude a deux ? " 
 
 Evelyn looked at Piers. Piers's tint changed to a 
 light purple. " Not at all, Uncle," he gasped. '' In 
 11*
 
 330 The Guns of Sliwa Klissia 
 
 fact we've come to tell you to ask " he stuttered 
 
 and gave it up. " You tell him, Evie." 
 
 " It's your part," she objected. 
 
 Piers stared at Papa as though he had never seen the 
 dear man before, and was not certain if he understood 
 English. Papa looked equally amazed. The situation 
 needed clearing. I jumped up and kissed the happy 
 pair. 
 
 " Congratulations, Piers ! " I exclaimed. " You 
 always had luck in everything but Assyriology. I've 
 expected it for weeks, of course." 
 
 " Am I to understand " began Papa, in a dazed 
 
 way. " A pair of babies " 
 
 " Twenty-six and nineteen," I replied. " Perfectly 
 perfect, isn't it, dad ? Why didn't you ask her before, 
 Piers ? " 
 
 " Because she has a beastly seven hundred a year 
 attached to her," the bridegroom-expectant suddenly 
 became fluent. 
 
 " I can't detach it," Evelyn explained. " However, 
 I've promised to spend it all on frocks and the poor." 
 
 " Honour bright, Evie," he exhorted. 
 
 " Honour bright," she agreed. " As sure as my 
 name's Evelyn Jernirigham." 
 
 " At present," he recovered and grinned. 
 
 " Good heavens ! " said Papa. " May I ask how you 
 propose to live ? Sit down and elucidate, if you can." 
 
 " We thought Piers could go on helping you, and 
 when the Expedition closes down Mr. Wilbur has 
 promised to get him the post of Field Director to the 
 University of South Carolina's projected Babylonian 
 Expedition," said Evelyn; settling on his knee. 
 
 " I'd forgotten that," Papa conceded. 
 
 " And in the meantime Piers is going to write a book." 
 
 " Any fool can write a book, my dear, but it takes a 
 clever person to get it published."
 
 The Guns of Sliwa Klissia 331 
 
 " Oh, it will be published. It's going to be good, 
 and every one who is any one will buy it to see what I 
 have written." 
 
 " I thought it was to be Piers's work, child." 
 
 " Our joint production. All about life in Asiatic 
 Turkey and Assyriology. You know it takes two 
 people to write a book of travel, an old hand and a 
 tyro." 
 
 " I begin to have a great respect for your joint art- 
 fulness. So you propose to publish an epoch-making 
 volume, and to live on the royalties until the Carolina 
 Expedition starts ? And may I ask when you want 
 the wedding to take place ? " 
 
 " We haven't considered that at all. Some time. 
 And you haven't given your consent yet." 
 
 " Well, I suppose it is all inevitable. Piers, my boy, 
 there's nobody to whom I'd sooner entrust one of my 
 little girls than to you." 
 
 " Thank you, Uncle." Piers, red no longer, spoke 
 with dignity. 
 
 " However, Evie's young yet for such serious business. 
 My consent is on one condition. Engagement, yes, but 
 no marrying until the book is an accomplished thing." 
 
 " I've" half suspected it at the back of my mind, 
 Rathia," he confided to me later. " Still, this kind of 
 thing always takes one unexpectedly at the last, I sup- 
 pose. They have not really known one another long 
 enough, but I am not going to be a wet blanket. We 
 have an idea haven't we, child ? of how long it takes 
 to write a book. And if the engagement survives the 
 jolts and jars of collaboration it deserves to stand. I 
 knew twin brothers who were like one soul in two 
 bodies until a week's attempt at a joint volume of 
 Memoirs made them dead cuts." 
 
 Really, at times my father is almost diplomatic enough 
 for a woman.
 
 332 The Guns of Sliwa Klissia 
 
 The book started next day. It was Sunday, and in 
 the cool of the morning we had service, conducted in 
 a trench by a Chaldsean priest. 
 
 The trench was that of the temple vestibule, the 
 priest had his station by one of the snarling marble 
 lions, with Asshur Dan and his priests and gods and 
 holy maypole behind, and we sat, ragged diggers and 
 prim Europeans, on pieces of stone, with the decaying 
 sculptured glories around us. Nothing could be stranger 
 than this was in its quiet way. Those shabby wielders 
 of pick and shovel, sitting humbly where their forbears 
 had strutted in silk of Ind and gold of Ophir, joining, 
 when the Psalms came, in words that were hotly new 
 from Jewish hearts and brains when the sculptures 
 around us were new. And the American, with a brace 
 of cock-headed deities snarling behind him, thinking, 
 as I could see, of how the builders of this Temple had 
 been dust two thousand years before ever his country 
 was discovered by professors of the Faith which blossomed 
 from that entrusted to little, persecuted Israel. 
 
 No doubt about it. Turn them into new languages 
 as you will, torture them into commonplace rhyme if 
 you like, criticise and belittle if you choose, still the 
 Jewish Psalms are the strongest, clearest, evergreen 
 link of the ages. You may understand this with your 
 mind, but you cannot realise it with your heart unless 
 you have heard the words of backsliding, broken, tri- 
 umphant little Israel echoing amidst the bones of all- 
 conquering Asshur. 
 
 In the afternoon the workers snored out of sight 
 after a sheep-meal, and to us, as I kept Papa company 
 under our few precious shade-trees, came Piers and 
 Evelyn, loaded- with fountain-pens, writing- blocks, and 
 a gilt -edged volume I knew well by that time. " The 
 great book ? " said Papa. " What is the title ? " 
 
 " We haven't decided," replied Evelyn seriously.
 
 The Guns of Sliwa Klissia 333 
 
 *' We want something distinctive, something that will 
 indicate its scope Assyriology, you know, and personal 
 experiences. Can you suggest anything ? " 
 
 " Not in this temperature. Ask Rathia." 
 
 " ' Down amongst the Dead Men,' " I proposed, through 
 a yawn. " That's where you'll be, Evelyn, if you work 
 seven days a week. Do put those things away, for 
 charity's sake, and loaf. It makes me tired to see you 
 working. You appear to be in a hurry to get married, 
 my dear." 
 
 " She isn't," Piers interposed disgustedly. " She's 
 only interested in the book now." 
 
 " I wonder what you children will find to put in it,'* 
 said Papa with languid interest. 
 
 " Extracts from my diary, helped out by Piers's- 
 experiences " 
 
 Here we were interrupted by the approach, from 
 different quarters, of the Bey in search of something to 
 look at, and Mr. Wilbur with a sheaf of Puck and Judge 
 to lend us. We adjusted the supply and demand, and 
 had in common decency to invite them to share the 
 shade. Halet looked with pitying astonishment at the 
 writing paraphernalia, and expressed regret that the 
 two literary characters were so overworked. They ex- 
 plained the project. 
 
 " You appear, Evelyn Effen', to have written a volume 
 already," he commented, glancing at the diary. 
 
 She explained it. " Minutes of each day's living ? " 
 he said, in mild surprise. " What a great deal of labour ! 
 And to what end, if one may ask without offence ? " 
 
 ; ' When I return to England, Bey Effen', I hope ta 
 amuse my relatives with accounts of life in Turkey." 
 
 " Why, Effen', do you find something fit to interest 
 the folk of far-off Frankistan every day ? " 
 
 " Surely, Bey Effen', Turkey is a most fascinating 
 land."
 
 334 The Guns of Sliwa Klissia 
 
 " Mas'allah 1 But, Effen', have you truly the industry 
 to write every evening ? " 
 
 " I have not missed a day since I began it." 
 
 " What industry ! And, since the book appears to 
 be half filled, I gather you have kept it several weeks." 
 
 " Over a year, Effen'. My writing is small." 
 
 ** Mas'allah ! " he repeated again. " Your relatives 
 in far-off Frankistan are to be envied, Effen'." 
 
 Then we returned to our occupations, the Bey in- 
 specting the specimens of C. D. Gibson's earliest, best 
 work with appreciation, the collaborators squabbling 
 pianissimo until Semiramis turned up with a fresh 
 slaughtered lizard and distracted their volatile atten- 
 tion. All was peaceful; only, when I looked up from 
 my own book the American, seated a little behind the 
 Turk, was scanning Halet's features covertly, his own 
 set into an even mask. 
 
 Three weeks after, another Sunday opened badly 
 with the loss of the great diary. Evelyn took it hard ; 
 she had consulted it before service, and, on returning 
 from the trenches, could neither find it nor remember 
 where she last left it. The afternoon was, therefore, 
 spent by most of the household corps in searching the 
 temple mound, and every one was reduced to a state of 
 irritation. 
 
 " What a great trouble over that book, Effen' ! " 
 observed the Bey to me in mild wonder. " Surely if 
 Allah wills, it will return in good time ; He is merciful 
 and compassionate." 
 
 We were by ourselves on the top of the Ziggorat, 
 the scene of Mehreb Beg's discomfiture. We had 
 ascended it to 'view a great marvel, to wit, the arrival 
 of the only cart in the district. For some days the men 
 had been smoothing a long track riverwards, and along 
 this the vehicle had made its triumphant progress 
 amidst an excited, gun-firing escort. It was a Homeric
 
 The Guns of Sliwa Klissia 335 
 
 construction, with wheels made of sections of a tree and 
 all else en suite, and was pulled by man-power for lack 
 of beasts of draught. Some of the men had never 
 seen anything on wheels in their lives, and to them 
 it had the character of something slightly and pleasur- 
 ably improper. When I recall its reception I under- 
 stand why the first cyclist in Kurdistan was murdered 
 on suspicion of being a warlock. 
 
 It had been borrowed for a great project we had on 
 next day. When it was drawn up in the appointed place 
 the howls and gun-firing of the men, and the over- 
 powering zagharit of the women caused Papa to hold 
 his ears. He was directing operations ; even at our 
 height the noise was bad enough. 
 
 " We are lucky to be here, Effen', where we can see 
 without hearing too much," I said. 
 
 " Even so, Effen', and where we can be seen without 
 being overheard likewise," he replied. His voice was 
 low and gentle as he added : " You would like to have 
 your sister's book back, Effen'." 
 
 This jumping from topic to topic was unlike him. 
 Much puzzled, I replied : " The child is troubled ; of 
 course I would like it back." 
 
 " Effen'," his voice sank lower, " I believe you are 
 not playing a part at present, that you do not realise, 
 for the time, the great importance of that book of your 
 sister's own written evidence. Think of it, Effen', 
 complete evidence in her own writing." 
 
 It is sometimes hard to tell when an Oriental has 
 been drugging, so I was not more than much amazed 
 at this. " I do not understand " I began. 
 
 " You will understand directly, please Allah, Effen'," 
 he quite purred. " Perhaps you will comprehend at 
 once when I say you shall have the book back by, 
 Allah Al Aziz ! when you have told me what became 
 of those guns at Sliwa Klissia."
 
 Chapter HI 
 
 THREATS 
 
 FOR a short pause I looked blankly at the Bey's placid 
 features. When speech returned to me it brought a 
 natural tendency to hedge. 
 
 " Sliwa Klissia ? " I repeated. " What guns ? " 
 
 He made a little gesture as though of appeal. " Effen', 
 you know. Why try useless subterfuge ? The guns 
 and cartridges in the woman's coffin. I know, and you 
 know. What need to deny ? It will only cause need- 
 less conversation. I know about the guns, indeed, for 
 I had them placed in the coffin." 
 
 I made no reply. " At the village of Mishlu," he 
 went on. " And now I wish to know where they are, 
 that my face may be whitened before our lord the 
 Padishah. Come, Effen', you know that I know. Let 
 us drop subterfuge. This is an excellent chance for the 
 discussion. We are alone, visible to all for propriety's 
 sake, inaudible to all for secrecy's sake. Will it please 
 you to be seated on this bank ? I will, by your per- 
 mission, take this stone. Then will we speak in com- 
 fort." 
 
 I sat down mechanically. " Come, Effen'," he re- 
 peated, facing me. " Do not fear to commit yourself. 
 I know all, saving where the guns went." 
 
 " Effen', you speak in riddles," I said at last. " Con- 
 cerning certain arms, a coffin at Sliwa Klissia, and odd 
 combination ! my young sister's diary. May I ask 
 for the connection ? " 
 
 336
 
 Threats SST 
 
 " Effen', in that book, written in your sister's hand, 
 is all the evidence necessary to connect you and your 
 family with that that will blacken your faces before all 
 Roum and Frankistan. And all this you know." 
 
 A mazing, nebulous wonder as to what incriminating 
 folly Evelyn might have been guilty of filled my mind. 
 It probably found expression in my face. 
 
 "You know, Effen'," the Bey reiterated. '' Why 
 did you go to Kalmaru ? It is plain from your sister's 
 words that the face of your family will be blackened 
 thereby " 
 
 " Bey Effen', these are idle threats," I replied, 
 any purpose took us to Kalmaru, how could it disgrace 
 
 us ? " 
 
 " Effen', you lie boldly. You know that if the truth 
 of your going to Kalmaru were spread abroad it would 
 be the eternal disgrace of you, and of your family, both 
 in the eyes of Moslems and Feringhis. If I told it in 
 Stamboul through my agents, as I could do, would the 
 Effendim of the Embassies keep it to themselves? It 
 would be too tempting to the tongue." 
 
 My subconscious brain had worked fiercely during 
 my silence. Now it passed to the conscious half that 
 had listened to the Bey's words the conclusion all set 
 in order. I laughed. " I was taken by surprise," I 
 said. " Now all is clear to me. So I am to have back 
 my sister's diary if I will tell what happened to the 
 arms at Sliwa Klissia granting I know ? " 
 
 " Effen', you know. You know, and so does the 
 Effendi from Yenghi Dunia, your lover." 
 
 He had touched the raw. ' You lie ! " I retorted. 
 44 The Effendi Wilbur is not my lover." 
 
 " You lie, and lie feebly, Effen'," he retorted. " All 
 Tel Abou Khatoun knows it. And what shame ? The 
 diggers in the trenches and the Bedawin in the plains 
 say : * Greatly honoured will be Wilbur Effen' when he
 
 338 Threats 
 
 leadeth to his tent the Kizil Khatoun, the favourite 
 daughter of Jerningham Pasha.' But, Effen', I apolo- 
 gise. I did not mean to offend you, for I respect your 
 wit and resource, and would the rather be your friend 
 than your opponent. Stafar'llah ! I have sinned 
 against decency, in outraging your maidenly modesty." 
 
 I leant forward and lowered my voice. " Bey Effen', 
 you profess yourself a little afraid of me. It is well ; 
 you know of my double breed likewise, as all Roum 
 does. Let me tell you that you have hitherto had to 
 do with Miss Jerningham the Englishwoman; if ever 
 you couple my name with that of Wilbur Effendi you 
 will have to do with Rathia of the Abbasside line." 
 
 " The daughter of the Khan Rathia of Amadiyeh ? 
 You have admitted it, Effen'. You are very cool." 
 
 He said it in a tone of grudging admiration. 
 
 " Let usv return whence we started, to my sister's 
 book and those arms. If I tell of the guns what will 
 happen ? " 
 
 " Effen', I will be restored to favour in the eyes of 
 the Padishah. I may be a Vali yet, always your friend." 
 
 " And will there be a mortality amongst the Chal- 
 dseans of Kurdistan ? " I asked. 
 
 " Would it be so ill for them to escape further life 
 in their inhospitable land, Effen' ? " he demanded it 
 sanctimoniously. 
 
 " The breath of life is sweet, even in Chaldaean 
 nostrils, and with the shadow of the Turk and Kurd 
 ever mixed with it." 
 
 "It is Allah's will. I am grieved. By Him, the 
 Exalted, I am grieved. But I must liye, and if others 
 die that I may live why, is not all written on the 
 forehead on the third day of life by the Finger of Allah ? " 
 
 " Allah's Finger wrote a fine store of hypocrisy on 
 thine, Bey Effen'," I retorted. " And is it not written 
 that a hypocrite shall be the first to rise on the Day
 
 Threats 339 
 
 of the Resurrection to Doom ? I think I can recon- 
 struct the happenings of the last summer and autumn 
 round about the Mutessarifflik of Bitfa. Shall I set 
 them forth ? " 
 
 " It might simplify the understanding between us, 
 EffenV 
 
 " There was one Halet Bey, Mutessariff of Bitfa. 
 He protected Christians because it was good for the 
 revenue. For that he had a good name with the Consuls 
 in Kurdistan. Now, lately, the Ottoman authorities 
 have believed, or affected to believe, that Armenians 
 have been arming for a rebellion. Therefore all native 
 Christians have had an ill time. And the Consuls have 
 made reports about it, and their Governments cause the 
 Ambassadors to make the life of the Padishah a burden. 
 I have read of the search for arms in Erzeroum Cathe- 
 dral ; probably it was that which caused Halet Bey to 
 think how he would do a great service to the Padishah, 
 and gain a Vilayet. He would trade on his reputation 
 as a protector of Christians. He privately informed 
 his superiors that he knew the Chaldseans were arming, 
 much as he disliked to think it. They told him to be 
 secret and vigilant, and his name was carried as far as 
 Yildiz Kiosk. 4 1 will do nothing until I can arrange 
 for some Feringhi to accompany my searchers,' said 
 Halet Bey. ' Then he will be compelled to bear wit- 
 ness as to the finding of arms, the face of the Padishah 
 will be whitened before the Ambassadors when they 
 realise the bellicose nature of the Christians. The 
 character of the Mutessariff who wishes well to Chris- 
 tians will make the exposure the more emphatic.' 
 
 " And, to emphasise it the more, he selected a Bim- 
 bashi for the search who was just and kindly, and 
 famed therefor. It was a neat plot, and its success 
 should have earned a Vilayet for Halet Bey. And when 
 the finding of arms was known undoubtedly the Kurds
 
 340 Threats 
 
 of the district and the canaille of Bitfa would, in fear or 
 for plunder, have slaughtered innumerable Christians. 
 But what would Halet have cared for that ? " 
 
 " Effen', you misjudge. It would have depleted the 
 revenue," he interrupted with cynical gentleness. 
 
 " Halet would have had his Vilayet by then. A fine 
 plot, only the arms vanished. And so angry was 
 the Padishah over Halet's deceit or bungling that he 
 was degraded." 
 
 ' You know all, Effen'." 
 
 " Except how you came here. Do others know of 
 your suspicion of me ? " 
 
 " That, Elf en', is my secret." 
 
 " So. Listen carefully, Halet Bey. Of what use 
 would any information from me about the guns be ? 
 You must have authoritative testimony, mine. If I 
 give it we will get into trouble, and what use then will 
 it be to me that I have told ? " 
 
 " Effen', you will get your sister's book back. Like- 
 wise, Effen', ye will get no harm from helping me. A 
 confession that a brave and reckless Christian English- 
 woman helped certain of her fellow -believers to escape 
 the consequence of their plots. What then ? The 
 Padishah may order your banishment, but how will 
 that harm you ? All Frankistan is open to you. The 
 Padishah will be able to show your confession as proof 
 of an abortive rising, I will be restored to favour, and 
 your friend. Your signed evidence will be better than 
 the original plan." 
 
 " And the Chaldseans will be persecuted by the Moslem 
 canaille when this becomes public ? " 
 ' We cannot help that, Effen'." 
 
 " You know I was in the woods by Sliwa Klissia on 
 that night. Doubtless you have searched them, and 
 you cannot find how I spirited away the arms. Could 
 you find nothing from the villagers ? "
 
 Threats 341 
 
 ** No, they are so hardened to beatings that we could 
 get none to admit any knowledge of the affair, for we 
 dread to beat too much in that particular district, as 
 the Consul has kept close watch on it since our plan 
 was turned against us. We dug up the coffin, but the 
 Bimbashi was sure the body was that he saw in it in 
 the church." 
 
 " Effen', you wish me to give you a signed confession 
 of how the guns were disposed of ? " 
 
 " Verily, Effen'." 
 
 I laughed outright. " And it will become known to 
 all the diplomats of Stamboul ? And such things will 
 leak out. That I helped Chaldseans " 
 
 "It is rather to your credit, Effen'." 
 
 " And then repented and betrayed them ? It is a 
 poor bargain ! " ^ 
 
 " A worse for you if I tell the truth of Kalmam," he 
 replied. " You know, Effen', how tales spread. I can 
 circulate this at Stamboul, and the Franks of Pera will 
 snatch it with avidity. As to Mosul and Baghdad, it 
 will be a thing to make the ears itch. So will I do, 
 Allah willing. Remember, your sister is the daughter 
 of a great lady, granddaughter of a great Pasha of 
 Frankistan, and the rank of them will make them 
 plainer target for shafts of scandal." 
 
 Certainly, I reflected, the man could make out an 
 ugly case if he could get it believed that I had simply 
 turned Ischaryar on the helpless Gadarwand villages. 
 And I could not tell the truth without compromising 
 the Khanoum Effen'. What had Evelyn put in the 
 diary ? If the Bey was not bluffing it must be some- 
 thing very plain. No scandals spread so rapidly as those 
 fathered by the Diplomatic Service, hedged in, as it 
 is, by spies and intrigues. They run from Embassy to 
 Embassy, from capital to capital, and filter quickly into 
 common gossip. And it would appear that Evelyn
 
 342 Threats 
 
 had been an accessory. My forehead grew damp as I 
 thought it over. Every decent European in Turkey 
 would be against us. As to Europe we were most 
 unfortunately conspicuous, with Papa's new title, and 
 the kudos that had attended the news of our romantic 
 success at Tel Abou Khatoun. Even Kalmaru would 
 not be strange in the ears of cultured people, for I had 
 made no secret of how and where and through whose 
 good offices I had secured the Hittite signets which had 
 made almost as much sensation as the Tel. The early 
 'nineties were a glorious epoch, but no more self-denying 
 in the matter of racy scandal than any other period. 
 My imagination culminated its horror-struck flight in a 
 vision of possible French brochures, with real names 
 in them. Heaven knew what an erection the bad 
 enough foundation would support in time. 
 
 I flatter myself I kept a composed face and showed 
 no more than an expression of deep reflection as these 
 thoughts raced through my mind. " One thing is not 
 clear, Bey Effen'," I said at last. " How came you to 
 fix this suspicion on me ? Simply because I was at 
 Sliwa Klissia on the night in question ? " 
 
 " Effen', my name is Halet. Halet Bey now," 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Twenty years ago it was Halet simply, and was the 
 name of a lad who conducted the lady now known as 
 the Khanoum Effen' of Kalmaru to the Diz Kalmaru." 
 
 " Oh. And you are a visitor there sometimes ? " 
 
 " Even so. The Khanoum Effen' has been mindful 
 of the lad who served her." 
 
 ** All is plain now, then." 
 
 " All, save where the guns went, Effen'. But indeed, 
 I have taken you by surprise. Take a little time before 
 you answer. The counsel of the night-hours will bring 
 wholesome reflections. Inshallah, to-morrow and its to- 
 morrow you can reflect. In the morning I go on busi-
 
 Threats 343 
 
 ness to Kirkuk. It is your Monday. On the Wednes- 
 day I return ; on the Wednesday, then, you shall tell me 
 your decision." 
 
 " Very well," I assented. " What of my sister's 
 book ? " 
 
 He grinned. ** It is in exceedingly safe custody. Nor 
 dare you seek to have it stolen lest your interest in it 
 appears a little suspicious. Doubtless you can ask your 
 sister what she wrote about Kalmaru. You can also 
 consult Wilbur Effen' if you like." 
 
 " Wilbur Effen' has nothing to do with it ! " I re- 
 torted hotly. 
 
 " You say, Effen'," he returned gently. " If he were 
 your lover, as men say, I could ascribe your heat to a 
 desire to keep him out of a dangerous matter ; as you 
 deny the fact, I wonder why you are so angry about it." 
 
 " He had nothing to do with it." 
 
 " He was with you at Bitfa, and he is with you here. 
 You talk together a great deal ; he glares at me in a 
 foolish way when I talk to you. Were he your lover 
 I could understand it. As you deny it, when there is 
 no need for shame about the matter, I begin to have 
 suspicions. We will see on Wednesday, please Allah." 
 
 He paused, as though struck by an idea. " On 
 Wednesday I will bring you this, a copy of the more 
 incriminating parts of your sister's book, Inshallah. 
 Why, Effen'" his voice changed to an everyday tone 
 " how long we have stayed here ! There is your sister 
 signalling from your tents. Shall we join her before 
 she sends the terrible little dog to rouse us ? "
 
 Chapter IV 
 
 BLUFF ? OB, WHAT ? 
 
 AFTER a great shock or surprise which you have to keep 
 to yourself there ensues a period, of hours or days, 
 that is nebulous to your after-recollection. Looking 
 back through memory you remember the shock, and 
 the later phase when you realised it was true and not 
 a dream, but the span between, while all your con- 
 scious faculties were concentrated on the task of keeping 
 up outward appearances, is a vague blank. 
 
 My first distinct recollection after the Bey had turned 
 me over to Evelyn dates from after dinner. " Bless 
 me, Rathia, you look seedy," observed Papa. " I hope 
 you are not going to be ill, before to-morrow's work is 
 done." 
 
 " When I recover my diary I'll put that fatherly 
 remark in," commented Evelyn, sotto voce. 
 
 " You appear to put any amount of personalities 
 into that book," I returned. " I hope you have not 
 put in anything you would not like all the world to 
 read." 
 
 " Who would read it ? " she replied. **. Barring the 
 Bey, there's nobody on the mound but ourselves capable 
 of reading English, and with us it would be all in the 
 family eh, you people ? " 
 
 " Of course," the American confirmed heartily. " We 
 are all one happy family Tel Abou Khatoun & Co." 
 
 " As to the Bey," said Piers innocently, " he never 
 reads even print if he can avoid it ; so he's innocuous." 
 
 344
 
 Bluff? or What? 845 
 
 " I think you are too familiar with Mr. Wilbur," I 
 complained, when I was alone with Evelyn, later. 
 
 " I've adopted him," she returned airily. " He felt 
 so lonely, thousands of miles from home, and he has 
 no near relatives, nothing closer than a cousin, so I've 
 agreed to be a sister to him. He said that was just 
 what he wanted." 
 
 The innocent remark caught my attention in a way 
 it would not have done but for the Bey's insinuations. 
 Beyond the stunning effect of the surprise and the strain 
 to appear natural I had been nervously observant 
 during the last few hours of the demeanour of everyone. 
 Were people linking my name with Harvey Wilbur's ? 
 It was impossible ; yet what had put it into the Bey's 
 head? 
 
 I was beginning to suspect that there was something 
 more than I could fathom at the back of the Turk's 
 threats. Well grounded as they were on the whole, 
 there was something missing, some clinching circum- 
 stance that would weld his power over me into an 
 irresistible weapon. And until I learnt what that was 
 I could not counter-plan against him. 
 
 We had wandered to the top of the Ziggorat to look 
 at the sleeping country sloping to the horizon and the 
 far-away glint of river. Big and vague it lay, dusky in 
 the starlight, dotted with little black smears that stood 
 each for a home where some poor man harbo.ured those 
 who loved and depended on him. Tiny points of light 
 flickered and winked, thickly round the Tel, and 
 sporadically as far as eye could see. Evelyn lapsed 
 into silence, gazing dreamily over the quiet view, un- 
 speakably lovely, herself, with vagrant curls creeping 
 from the scarf that draped her proud little head, lashes 
 flickering golden over the smoulder of blue they shaded, 
 and the whole gold and ivory and rose of her set up in 
 harmony against the starry sky. A little undertone,
 
 346 Bluff? or What? 
 
 mellowed by distance, of shrill Arab songs, drifted 
 to our ears, the crackling bark of a jackal roused us both. 
 
 " How could we endure a Western town again, 
 Rathia ? " said Evelyn. Her sweet voice was hushed, 
 it had taken on a gentler, tenderer cadence of late. No 
 doubt of it, her intercourse with Piers might take the 
 outward form of jokes and bickering, but for all that she 
 had found it possible to grow just a little more beautiful 
 of late, to mellow suddenly, to develop the last little 
 indefinable trait that made me now, in the starlight, 
 think for a moment that it was her own mother come to 
 earth again and talking with me as she used to talk. 
 
 " It is strange to think, is it not, that all those little 
 people are more or less dependent on us ? " she went on, 
 softly. " I like to think some are a little better off and 
 happier for us, Rathia." 
 
 " If we met a catastrophe, plenty of poor homes 
 would be the poorer, many family fires die out, many 
 sick live in torment for lack of aid, many children grow 
 up lame or blind, more people, mostly mothers and 
 wives and elder sisters, starve to death when Famine 
 is in the land," I returned. " Yes, Evelyn, if we fell 
 there would be a little less sunshine around the Rivers 
 for a while. And that, my dear, brings me to something. 
 I am much worried about your Diary. Heaven alone 
 can tell where information will wander in the East " 
 
 " I know," she interrupted earnestly. " You have 
 warned me before, and I can assure you there is nothing 
 in it all the world might not read, and welcome." 
 
 " Kalmaru for one thing," I said. " You know that 
 was a risky business." 
 
 " Yes, and I remember the general tenor of what I 
 wrote there. There was absolutely nothing but chat 
 about our entertainers their looks and ways, and how 
 kind they were to us." 
 
 " Are you sure ? "
 
 Bluff? or What? 347 
 
 " Positive. I read it over not so long ago. No 
 mention of tribal affairs, of course, and nothing about 
 the tunnel." 
 
 She looked at me squarely. Her face was in shadow 
 as she turned to me, but I could see the clear glow of 
 her eyes. I turned my own gaze away, for I did not 
 want her to read the anxiety I could not conceal, and 
 questioned her closely. It was fruitless; she could 
 recollect no single indiscretion, and she had a good 
 memory for that, the most striking episode of her life. 
 
 No doubt about it, there was some hidden meaning 
 in the Bey's threats, something I could not guess at, 
 something that might descend on us like lightning out 
 of the blue. I was helpless to meet the problem by any 
 exercise of wit or knowledge, any sacrifice of self; it 
 could only be turned aside by the unspeakable way of 
 revealing the secret of the guns betraying the Chal- 
 daeans of Bitfa district to open persecution, while 
 putting us in a false light before the Ambassadors 
 at Stamboul to boot. That was the first white night 
 I ever spent through fear and helplessness.
 
 THE CARTING OF THE CHERUB 
 
 MORNING brought a temporary answer : recklessness. 
 A Double Rivers' morning, remember, in summer, with 
 the undark night dissolving into a sun that came forth 
 from his tabernacle ready to run to the end of the 
 heavens and to leave nothing hidden from his light, 
 with dew burnt up in a minute of haze, with a gracious 
 breeze sent from off river by special providence. A 
 morning with a little green verdure left, a morning with 
 all the Tel awake and abroad and scaring the jackals 
 from the cemetery by Wolf and Sheep Time. A morn- 
 ing that brought the reflection that after all it was but 
 Monday, the blow was not due to fall until Wednesday, 
 that there were two days for action or an Act of Allah, 
 that the world may come to an end at any ungiven 
 moment, that work was to be done though the heavens 
 fell, and it had better be done cheerfully. 
 
 So I tried to tackle the day cheerfully, and of all the 
 encampment only Sulti wanted to know why I had the 
 fidgets in my hands, and Mr. Wilbur had the effrontery 
 to suggest that the dirty-finger marks under my eyes 
 were due to worry over the coming work. 
 
 People were coming in from the middle of the night 
 on. Jebours from their reed riverside booths, Shammar 
 cavaliers from the tented plains beyond Samarrah; 
 Khatounabad turned out en masse, and so did every 
 village within ten miles. Dervishes, dirty and impudent 
 
 348
 
 The Carting of the Cherub 349 
 
 or trim and dreamy, Mollahs and Christian priests, 
 Yezidis, Lazes, Armenians, Turks, and Greeks came by 
 twos and threes. Schoolmasters of Tekrit made it a 
 whole holiday that their pupils might improve their 
 young minds and they themselves might see the fun. 
 In short, it resolved itself into an impromptu fair, and 
 I do not doubt that year now figures in Mesopotamian 
 annals as the Year of the Carting of the Cherub. 
 
 To explain. The Cherub, my man-headed lion, the 
 find that had secured us the Tel, was undoubtedly the 
 largest, finest, and best-preserved one that excavation 
 had unearthed since the Kouyunjik and Khorsabacl first 
 harvest. Our Fund could not afford to ship it to Eng- 
 land, even if it could have bought it from the Stamboul 
 Museum, and the Stamboul Museum could not afford 
 to transport it to Stamboul. It looked as though we 
 would have to bury it again and risk the natives digging 
 it up and smashing it for building-stones. 
 
 We were lamenting the pity of it when Mr. Wilbur 
 stepped into the breach. After a fabulous amount of 
 wiring and cabling his University made an offer. Forty 
 thousand dollars if we could get the Cherub to Basrah. 
 There an agent would tranship it to America, the first 
 and only Assyrian Genie in the New World. The sum 
 was ample to buy it from the Stamboul Museum and 
 to get it to Basrah if only we could get it to the Tigris 
 at all. Hence the cart. 
 
 For days men had laboured, hired with the Carolinian 
 dollars, to smooth a sort of road to the river, three miles 
 direct. Now the question was if we could get the 
 Cherub into the cart unbroken. In the first daylight 
 we sallied forth to stir into activity the devices put 
 together by long toil and planning. 
 
 I will not detail the breathless Saga of the first few 
 hours. We did it ; that is all in a nutshell. Five hun- 
 dred men worked with hawsers, screws, and poles, and
 
 350 The Carting of the Cherub 
 
 about five thousand souls made a watching sea of 
 humanity, kept back by our zaptiehs under the Onbashi, 
 who was Halet's locum tenens. At a critical moment, 
 when the sculpture hung at an acute angle from the 
 bank, a rope broke. 
 
 Down came the Cherub with an appalling thud. We 
 all died a hundred deaths from despair during the 
 moment's epic hush before Miksi leapt on the fallen idol, 
 ascertained that it was uncracked, and announced the 
 fact in a Tiyari slogan that sent every one mad and into 
 a frenzy of gun-firing, war-yells, and howling. Taking 
 advantage of the excitement, Papa and Harvey Wilbur 
 set the frenzied workers to getting the marble, by way 
 of greased planks and lines of rollers, down the slope and 
 along the watercourse track to the beginning of the new 
 road where the cart waited. Amidst invocations to 
 Moslem and Christian saints it was hauled, levered, and 
 pushed up an incline, and slid on to the vehicle. 
 
 Then the crowd swept the police aside and pranced 
 and sang around the accomplished work, a frantic 
 maelstrom of humanity, and Harvey Wilbur produced his 
 camera and immortalised the scene, with the Cherub's 
 face resting on one cheek on its tarpaulin pads and 
 smiling serenely amid the clamouring crowd like some 
 descendeddemi-godof imperturbable, wise calm. Idolatry 
 is hard to avoid ; one cannot help a sneaking belief 
 that these giant gods and helpers of old, that have 
 stridden across the ages to give their message to whoso- 
 ever will hear, are not mere stone. 
 
 "Whiles I wonder if a soul were gi'en them wi' the blows." 
 
 All this done, we said " Alhamdu'Pllah ! " and went 
 to breakfast. The sun was cruelly up, and the touchy 
 part of the work was done ; remained the long, dull pull 
 to the river. The first mile was accomplished with 
 comparative ease ; it was fairly flat, the workers were
 
 The Carting of the Cherub 351 
 
 fresh, and the cart was a glossy novelty. Two hundred 
 men dragged at a time at the five hawsers attached to it, 
 and as they hauled they sang impromptus in its honour, 
 assisted by their friends, relatives, and the sightseers, 
 and led by an overseer who sat on the Cherub's face 
 and gave the time. 
 
 It was a wonderful cart, so they sang ; verily it was 
 the grandfather of all carts. Its parents, by grace of 
 Allah the Creator, were Wit and Industry, and its 
 children were piastres and prosperity to all who wrought 
 in its shadow. And much more to the same effect, each 
 canto preluded by *' Y'Allah ! " and followed by the 
 refrain : " Matches in his beard who contradicts us ! " 
 
 The next half-mile brought a different tune. Novelty 
 is of all emotions the most evanescent, and now they 
 saw that cart in its true colours. 
 
 It was a burnt -fathered beast of a cart ; so the altered 
 strain ran. Its father was a dog, and its mother never 
 boasted a nose from her birth up. Matches in his beard 
 who contradicted them ! Its children were broken 
 backs and galled hands. It ought to be and matches 
 in his beard who contradicted them ! in the Bad Place, 
 assisting at the torment of the worst of Kafirs 
 
 Here they passed translation, and the cart stuck in 
 a soft spot. The road was going up an incline, every one 
 struck and declared it was impossible to budge it. 
 Something had to be done. The men had been hauling 
 promiscuously so far; now we divided them into re- 
 ligions. Two hundred Chaldaeans pulled first, while 
 the Muhammadans jeered, and under fire of it they got 
 the vehicle to the brow of the rise. There it livened the 
 proceedings by running away in a ponderous manner 
 back to its old resting-place. Almost the Chaldaeans 
 wept. Again they bent to it ; they got it well over the 
 brim this time, and it varied matters by running away 
 down in front. We felt our hair turning grey during
 
 352 The Carting of the Cherub 
 
 the ghastly minutes that elapsed before it became 
 known that supernal agility on the part of the men at 
 the ropes had baulked its desire to fill the role of Jugger- 
 naut. The one casualty was Miksi Gauriel. He had 
 been standing on the Cherub's cheek, chanting the time 
 for the pulls altogether, was somersaulted off backwards, 
 and had to be comforted and fanned for the rest of the 
 day. It was Mr. Wilbur who thought of the admirable 
 plan of putting an Arab in his place, and under the 
 caustic tongue of the Ishmaelite the Christians got it 
 in fine style to the foot of the next slope. 
 
 Then Arabs were harnessed, and, to make fair play, 
 an acid-tongued Chaldaean goaded them on. We could 
 now see the glint of the river ahead, not so far as the 
 crow flies, but a weary distance as the cart progressed 
 along ground that grew worse and worse. Six times it 
 stuck in a quarter mile ; even the taunts of jarring creeds 
 began to lose their effectiveness, and during an hour's 
 rest that ensued the workers became friends all round 
 over the decision that it was an impious and impossible 
 undertaking. In a word, they struck. We said we 
 would discuss matters after they had eaten and rested, 
 and we went back to the Tel and beguiled our own rest 
 and lunch with plans to raise sectarian strife and ride 
 the ensuing whirlwind to our profit. 
 
 When the heat was over the men, rested, changed 
 their minds by the time we reappeared. For two hours 
 hauling and levering went on with cheerfulness, but 
 when the small progress was compared with the sweat 
 that had bought it hearts failed again. The river 
 rippled but a mile off; unfortunately the road to it 
 rippled likewise, and was soft in spots. We began to 
 put our plots into practice. A mixed team, Arab and 
 Chaldaean, failed, for the men began a free fight, instead 
 of spurring one another on. Another strike ensued. 
 The overseers were deputed to inform us that the cart
 
 The Carting of the Cherub 353 
 
 was bewitched ; somebody present must have the Evil 
 Eye. 
 
 We told them to use the proper divination to find 
 the offender. To the joy of every one, Piers, who had 
 been urging on the work with unseemly energy, was 
 pitched on, and driven hence (by consent) with a formal 
 stoning. He retired to a knoll, and pretended he did 
 not care, but the vehicle refused to budge. I volun- 
 teered to try my hand at divination to discover if 
 any one else had the Eye. It fined down to Evelyn, and, 
 as no one else dared to lift a hand, I packed her off to 
 join Piers, with a handful of gravel for benison. 
 
 The cart was dragged out of the hole and on for half 
 a mile ; then it once more came to a standstill, and the 
 inevitable deputation presented itself. Driving off the 
 ill-luck was not enough, said the deputation : positive 
 good luck must be imparted to the dog-fathered vehicle. 
 It was known that the footsteps of the Kizil Khatoun 
 were fortunate. . . . 
 
 I anticipated the request by turning over Arjamand 
 to a groom and mounting the cart. Perched on the 
 Cherub's ear, with my boots dangling over his nose, I 
 urged on the haulers by the new plan of softly chanted 
 old Arab songs and heartening impromptus. The sun 
 was setting now, the air cooling, a breeze met our heated 
 faces as the erection moved forward towards the red- 
 dened West. 
 
 We were nicely within sight of the Jebour encamp- 
 ment where we meant to leave the marble under guard 
 for the night when the worst stoppage took place. I 
 would have surrendered my post, but the men called to 
 me, begging me not to move. With the goal in sight 
 they were on their mettle now; they consulted, and 
 announced their decision. 
 
 The Red Khatoun had brought great good-fortune 
 Mas'allah ! but, as two had been detected with the 
 12
 
 354 The Carting of the Cherub 
 
 Eye, it seemed evident that two luck-bringers were 
 needed. Would the Effendi from Yenghi Dunia mount 
 likewise ? By Kizil Khatoun's permission. 
 
 It would have been the height of conspicuousness to 
 make objections. I said I welcomed anything to 
 further the work. Mr. Wilbur had the sense, further- 
 more, to climb up and seat himself on the cherub's 
 horned diadem in a matter-of-course way. And, by the 
 perversity of fate, immediately the heartened workers 
 humped their shoulders to the hawsers the cart 
 loosened itself and glided on at the best pace it had yet 
 attained. 
 
 So we rode forward, the two of us, lifted high above 
 everything, the sunset gilding us, old Nergal's face 
 smiling, inscrutably genial, behind our dangling feet. 
 In front the men shouldered together in a solid mass, 
 the crowd around yelled deafeningly, the Tigris came 
 nearer and nearer beyond the dark silhouette of the 
 Jebour village and the reed-margin of the bank, the 
 world around was gloriously amber to the very horizon. 
 It was like a triumphal procession only there was 
 usually but one triumphator. 
 
 The American spoke in an undertone, a tone vibrant 
 with good-humoured laughter. "Ave!" he said, 
 " Ave, Miss Haroun Al-Raschid Triumphatora I " 
 
 He had no business to read my thoughts. " Is this 
 my triumph ? " I demanded. 
 
 "Who secured the Tel?" he replied. " Ave, 
 Triumphatora ! And you'll excuse the slave who fulfils 
 his duty of whispering in your ear that you are but 
 mortal. It's the formula." 
 
 " An American a slave ? " I demanded feebly. 
 
 " Well, Miss Haroun," he returned slowly, " it looks 
 rather as though I were your slave, doesn't it ? Other- 
 wise, what am I doing up here ? I'm your slave." 
 
 " Pro tern" I replied.
 
 The Carting of the Cherub 355 
 
 " Oh, you know, Miss Haroun, there's no such thing 
 as time. We are living in eternity." 
 
 " What are those people doing ? " I asked sharply. 
 
 From the north, and parallel with the river, a caravan 
 was coming, the figures not too clear against the sunset, 
 their long shadows rippling beside them. It consisted 
 of a long string of big mules, heavily laden, the last ten 
 coming far behind the others. At the head rode a bunch 
 of figures. Just too far off for me to distinguish any 
 one distinctly all halted, the ten last mules still at a 
 respectful distance from the others, and a rider spurred 
 forward. I could distinguish him for a splendidly 
 mounted cavalier, the loung of his Kurdish turban 
 flying. 
 
 On the flank of our crowd, Papa, Piers, Evelyn, and 
 the greater chieftains were riding. To these the 
 cavalier made his way, drawing up with a flourish to 
 greet, not my father, but Evelyn. This was astonish- 
 ing enough; it was bigger wonder when Evelyn, after 
 turning to Papa and making an introductory gesture, 
 galloped across country to the waiting group. 
 
 Here the cart rolled amongst the outer huts of the 
 encampment and I could see no more. It slowly pro- 
 ceeded to the cleared space where the Cherub was to 
 be disembarked, and came to a final halt amidst wild 
 cheering. We had no chance to dismount when between 
 the huts Evelyn made an appearance, her ugly mount 
 flanked by a superb white pacing mule. The mule 
 was caparisoned with velvet and silver trappings, and 
 ridden by a closely veiled woman. 
 
 " Rathia, isn't it too jolly to believe ? " cried Evelyn 
 blithely, as they reined up beside us. " Can you guess ? " 
 
 I was bending down to the veiled figure. It needed 
 neither sight nor hearing nor guesswork to recognise the 
 Khanoum Effen' of Kalmaru. 
 
 Papa rode up with Ischaryar Beg before we could
 
 356 The Carting of the Cherub 
 
 ^xchange more than a few words. I made the intro- 
 duction from my perch on the Cherub's face. Ischaryar 
 sidled up, grinning happily, while my father made a 
 graceful little speech, thanking the Khanoum Effen' 
 for her care of us at Kalmaru, and touching rapturously 
 on the matter of the Hittite relics. The Lady of Kal- 
 maru displayed a gracious shyness, only inclining her 
 veiled head with grave dignity, ard speaking a few 
 depreciating words in a voice muffled by the veil. 
 That done, she edged the mule nearer me as I sat on 
 Nergal. Mr. Wilbur had slipped away before the crowd 
 closed in and prevented my descent. 
 
 " Salam done, we will proceed on our way, Jerning- 
 ham Khanoum," she said. 
 
 Evelyn came in first with a cry of dismay. " We are 
 bound for Samarrah, and we camp to-night, Allah will- 
 ing, at Maadri," the Kurd proceeded, naming a village 
 some miles down-stream. 
 
 " You would insult us ? " I exclaimed. " Our en- 
 campment is but half an hour's ride aw r ay. We flattered 
 ourselves you had come to stay with us a while." 
 
 ** We hoped, it is true, that Allah Al Wahhab would 
 permit us to set eye on you for a few heart- beats ; but 
 we are bound for Kerbela." 
 
 She explained in a few words. It was the tribal 
 custom at Kalmaru once a year to disinter the bodies 
 of those who had died in the past twelve months and 
 to convey them for final burial to holy Kerbela, near 
 the bones of Imaum Hosain. This explained the 
 heavily laden mules. The Khanoum Effen' had come 
 on this yearly pilgrimage often enough, now she w r as 
 bound there again, while Lailah Khanoum stayed at 
 home with her sons to keep the Gadarwands in awe. 
 As to Esma this in answer to Evelyn's inquiries she 
 had married a neighbouring Beg some months before. 
 By the time she had done Papa rode up.
 
 The Carting of the Cherub 357 
 
 With him came Ischaryar, the score of marksmen 
 who were his escort, and the veiled personage, perched 
 sack-like on a mule, that stood for the Khanoum Effen's 
 travelling handmaid. All set eager gaze on the Lady 
 of Kalmaru while Papa addressed me. 
 
 "The Beg Effen' tells me the Khanoum Effen', 
 his grandmother, is in haste ; but I hope, Rathia, you 
 can persuade her to linger a little with us. If you 
 fail " 
 
 He tailed, for the Khanoum Effen's benefit, into one 
 of his best speeches : to the effect that our lives would 
 be shortened by grief if the party would not stay a 
 while with us. She hesitated. 
 
 "It is the inconvenience of our following to you, 
 Effen'," she said at last, in a shy voice smothered by 
 her veil, indicating the mules in the distance. 
 
 Papa waved his hands. The precious loads should 
 be stored and guarded as the apples of our collective 
 eyes. It was a joy to afford hospitality to any one from 
 Kalmaru, alive or dead. Thereupon she gently inclined 
 her veiled head, and all was settled. Mr. Wilbur rode 
 up leading Arjamand, and was introduced before I 
 mounted, and so we rode back to the Tel, our shadows 
 flitting, long and violet, over the burnt grass. The 
 whole plain was full of people, swarming home now 
 that the tamasha was over ; Miksi and a few overseers 
 were left to guard the Cherub, the rest of the multitude 
 trooped back with us. 
 
 I rode at the head of the cortege with Evelyn and our 
 chief guest, the Beg and his glittering train of hangdogs 
 followed, with Papa and Mr. Wilbur. At a respectful 
 distance came the charnel mules and their drivers. The 
 Beg's servants had ridden on with the baggage, with 
 Piers to show them a suitable spot for pitching the 
 tents. The Khanoum Effen' talked to us in an under- 
 tone ; rather, she drew us out all the way, keeping us so
 
 358 The Carting of the Cherub 
 
 engaged that the men did not venture to interrupt. 
 We rode slowly, and by the time the Tel was towering, 
 ragged and sunlit, over our heads, the Beg's servants 
 had pitched camp, two big tents and a circle of smaller 
 ones, at the lower slope below the trees. 
 So ends the Carting of the Cherub.
 
 Chapter VI 
 
 A STANDING OFFER 
 
 SULTI was politely unenthusiastic, wishing audibly that 
 Kurds would keep their old bones and old grandmothers 
 at home, and not litter up other people's mounds with 
 them. I made a bold reply on behalf of the Khanoum 
 Effen's comparative youth and many attractions. Sulti 
 listened with a grim expression. " Since you can talk 
 like a poet about another woman, Rathia Khatoun," 
 said she, " I would like to hear you talk of a man you 
 loved." 
 
 All the same, she made an excuse to go over to the 
 other camp, and justified me by subsequently spending 
 the bulk of her time in gossip there. The Khanoum 
 Effen', for a Kurd, was prudish ; she kept severely to 
 herself, letting it be known that she had no use for 
 Feringhi men, although she highly approved Feringhi 
 women. To adjust matters, Ischaryar spent most of 
 his time with our men, and Evelyn and I practically 
 lived in the other camp. 
 
 We all went through the diggings that evening, by 
 moonlight. The Khanoum Effen' elected to appear in a 
 yashmak of Puritan cut, imperial and unapproachable, 
 signified her pleasure that I should attend and explain 
 all in my flawless Zaza, and altogether snubbed Papa 
 and Mr. Wilbur so politely that they let us head the 
 party in dual dignity while they devoted themselves to 
 the more grateful task of trying to persuade Ischaryar 
 
 359
 
 360 A Standing Offer 
 
 that they had some method in their bone and stone 
 digging madness. 
 
 It was a delightful variant in life for us, and the Tel 
 would not have afforded a happier period if only it 
 had happened some days before ! 
 
 Then I would have accepted the coming of the 
 Lady of Kalmaru as a happy accident ; as matters 
 stood it added to my perplexities. You never believe 
 too much in coincidence in the East ; either it is intrigue 
 or Allah's arranging. And here was the Khanoum 
 Effen', Halet Bey's patroness, Lady of Kalmaru, on 
 the Tel while I was having my time to decide ! The 
 Beg's party was to go on its way on Thursday. They 
 were no more in love with haste and hurry than other 
 Orientals, but they wished to be in Kerbela on Ashura 
 Day. And I had until Wednesday evening to decide 
 on my answer to the Bey. 
 
 For two nights and the day between the problem 
 was ever at the back of my mind. Since the Bey knew 
 of my persuading Ischaryar, how did he get the know- 
 ledge ? Only two people could have told him. Ischar- 
 yar it could not be. The Khanoum Effen' ? But for 
 the warning of my vain suspicions of her over the 
 passports I would have put her down as the arch- 
 enemy behind it all, at once. As it was, the problem 
 was as insoluble as that of my decision. What could 
 it mean this gathering of all concerned in my escapades 
 in Kurdistan ? The Bey had come on purpose, but 
 what of the Khanoum Effen' ? 
 
 At times a vague horror gripped me. Something was 
 menacing us. Something more to be feared than reve- 
 lations about the Gadarwand raid. It might be I was 
 overwrought, or it might be instinct, or it might be a 
 second-sight revelation ; whatever it was, dread abso- 
 lutely beyond expression came over me at times. The 
 unknown is more frightening than the known can ever
 
 A Standing Offer 361 
 
 be, and this unknown factor appalled me. What was 
 the purpose that lay behind the Khanoum Effen's 
 visit ? Was there some devilry hidden in the keen 
 brain of the lady whose sweet and gracious presence 
 pervaded life for us now ? She was a woman of mys- 
 tery at best, and what depths there are in an Eastern 
 woman's mind, both for good or evil, only that woman 
 herself can plumb, and that only when the call for 
 action comes. 
 
 And, to add the last straw to my mental burden, these 
 suspicions only seemed to hold water when I was away 
 from the object of them. Whenever I was with the 
 Lady of Kalmaru I laughed at them to myself, and 
 believed that her coming was no more than a pleasant 
 accident. And when I was away again they would 
 come back. 
 
 So Wednesday morning found me with no solution 
 of any problem ready, and the Bey coming that even- 
 ing. 
 
 It promised to be a fiery day, a day of unstirring air, 
 hush, and oppression. It was the kind of day on 
 which one cannot think, and after a nearly sleepless 
 night my tormented brain rebelled ; the double task of 
 threshing out the problems and keeping up an ordinary 
 manner outwardly was too much for it. I could feel 
 it crawl and turn in my skull when I tried to think at 
 all, and, as I knew too well what a last little overstrain 
 will do for the strongest mind in an Eastern summer, 
 I had to draw the rein with all my spiritual might. 
 Put off is not done with, but I put off reflection until 
 the evening, and forced myself to take a rest from 
 thought as well as I could. 
 
 To help me there was a little excursion afoot that 
 
 morning. We were to ride in the coolness, every one 
 
 of us, the Kurds included, to the Jebour settlement. 
 
 The Cherub had been built into a great wooden case 
 
 12*
 
 362 A Standing Offer 
 
 and embarked on a raft, and Piers was to steer it to 
 Basrah with Miksi as second in command. So we rode 
 down to see him off. It was approaching noon when 
 we returned, and we all confessedly had no strength 
 for anything but to get to some shade and hide from 
 the hot brazen heaven and the earth that gave out the 
 heat it had stored through the past months. It almost 
 deprived me of my mental troubles for the time ; 
 only, when we had all crawled to our particular lairs 
 Sulti brought the news that galvanised my outraged 
 brain to the extent of cold chills. Halet Bey had 
 come back from Kirkuk during our absence. 
 
 For an Oriental to be late is a matter of course ; for 
 one to be before time was correspondingly outrageous. 
 Sulti's further report, that he had paid his respects to 
 Papa, and, under Ischaryar's chaperonage, to the 
 Khanoum Effen', and had then hastened, like every one 
 else, in search of shade, did not even reassure me. 
 What had brought him before his time ? 
 
 I thought it out finally throughout that hot midday, 
 in the oppressive hush that brooded under the un- 
 pitying blue heaven while all the Tel, and all the plain 
 from the heat-hazed Jebel Hamrin to the hot glint of 
 river, quivered to the dazed eye, and the workers left 
 the untenable trenches for such threads of shade as 
 they could find, and the dogs and horses lay flat, too 
 exhausted to interfere with the flies that rioted on 
 them. And quite unexpectedly, in the curious way in 
 which an obvious inevitability will come, belated, to 
 one's consciousness, the only course opened before 
 my mental eye. There is much to be learnt from Alex- 
 ander's way with the Gordian Knot. Instead of puzzling 
 further, instead of trying to find out if her sweet, elder- 
 womanly ways masked any purpose, I would put all 
 bluntly to the Khanoum Effen'. At the worst it 
 would be simply taking the buttons off the foils, and
 
 A Standing Offer 363 
 
 with the decision a strange calm and restfulness came 
 to me. 
 
 As soon as the sun had dipped and it was possible 
 to stir I set out for the encampment. The Tel was 
 waking up, slowly, to the business of getting tea ready, 
 the animals were taking it out of the flies, viciously, the 
 workers were crawling workwards, unwillingly. 
 
 Outside the enclosure Mr. Wilbur, armed with his 
 camera, encountered me. " I wish to take a snap of the 
 encampment from the Ziggorat, Miss Jerningham," he 
 said ; " will you come and help ? It's an excuse," he 
 added, in a lower tone ; "the Ziggorat top is the place 
 for confidences, and I wish to speak to you." 
 
 The last few days had been so bewildering that even 
 this unusual request on his part failed to surprise me at 
 first. " If you are not pressingly engaged," he added. 
 " It concerns Halet Bey." 
 
 He looked in my eyes as he spoke the name. I 
 wondered if this was a fresh complication, or a way of 
 help, as I silently nodded and turned to accompany him 
 up the slope. 
 
 " Well ? " I demanded, settling myself on the bank. 
 He stood for a minute or two, silently fidgeting with 
 the camera, then sat on the stone before me and eyed 
 me steadily, the least wrinkle between his brows. 
 
 " Halet Bey has made a communication to me," he 
 began steadily, " concerning the Diz of Kalmaru." 
 
 He hesitated a second before the last few words, as 
 though to emphasise them. His eye caught my regard 
 and held it. It dawned on me that the woodenness of 
 his expression and the dryness of his announcement 
 were overdone. He was playing a part. 
 
 " Diz Kalmaru ? " I repeated. 
 
 " Halet Bey told me the truth about about it." 
 
 14 Then you know as much as I do," I replied. 
 
 " Apparently."
 
 864 A Standing Offer 
 
 " But why ? " I exclaimed, glad he had struck the 
 keynote of bald frankness. 
 
 " The Bey told me because he has got it into his head 
 that I have have some influence with you. And he 
 knew I was at the abortive raid at Sliwa Klissia. He 
 has told me, cynically, why he knew the guns were 
 there, and that he is sure you disposed of them in some 
 way. Now, meeting me here as as your father's 
 assistant, he is sure we were in league in Kurdistan. 
 He is not sure if I know what you did with the arms, 
 but thinks I might induce you to reveal it, in order to 
 avert the scandal that will result if he circulates the 
 truth about Diz Kalmaru," 
 
 " Mr. Wilbur, are you aware that if those guns are 
 found the result will be a general persecution of the 
 Chaldseans ? " 
 
 " I know." 
 
 " And do you ask me to reveal the secret ? Do you 
 expect me to betray my fellow Christians ? " 
 
 " No, but I thought that if you told me we might 
 take counsel together. Two heads, you know." 
 
 Our eyes met and remained at gaze. " You wish to 
 take the responsibility of deciding on your shoulders, 
 Mr. Wilbur," I said. " Don't deny it." 
 
 " I won't deny it, Miss Jerningham. I will only say 
 you have a gift for reading my thoughts." 
 
 " You could not help, except by betraying the 
 Chaldseans," I answered. " It is a complete deadlock. 
 Do you think he can really injure us by publishing this 
 scandal ? " 
 
 He stared a little. " He can make out it was all pre- 
 arranged, Miss Jerningham Kalmaru, I mean, you 
 know and that your father knew about it. The 
 presence here of those those people from the Diz, 
 lends colour to it. Of course I know your father had 
 nothing to do with it ; it was all your affair."
 
 A Standing Offer 305 
 
 " It is my affair," I replied, " and much as I appre- 
 ciate the kindness that prompts you to offer your help 
 I am solely responsible, and I will remain so." 
 
 " If you would tell me, Miss Jerningham " 
 
 " I prefer to shoulder my own responsibilities, even if 
 I had the right to burden you with them " 
 
 " You could have the right." His tone became 
 abruptly forceful. " You might give me, in a sentence, 
 the right to shoulder all your troubles, Miss Jerning- 
 ham. Rathia " he bent over to me "will you give 
 me the right now ? " 
 
 ' There was a smoulder in his eyes, and his face was 
 set, not hard now, but with a suggestion of yearning in 
 the strong, lean lines of it. In the few words of his last 
 speech the man had laid his soul before me, and it was 
 a soul worth seeing and knowing and owning. I could 
 not trifle, oraffect ignorance it would have been vulgar 
 before the simplicity of his self -revelation. I had to be 
 as open. 
 
 " You ask me to marry you," I said. " After after 
 Sliwa Klissia 1 You do not know what happened there, 
 yet you offer me your name." 
 
 " I do not know what happened there," he replied, 
 " but I know you nov;, Rathia. And I say : ' Give me 
 ,from this moment the right to face your enemies for 
 you.' " 
 
 " Even if I could betray my fellow-Christians, Mr. 
 Wilbur, I have given my word of honour not to do 
 so. Does your offer hold after I have told you this ? " 
 
 " It will always hold." 
 
 " If you were connected with us the scandal will 
 reflect on you." 
 
 " I will be able to share the bearing of it with you." 
 
 I shook rny head, and I felt the tears in my eyes. 
 ** I will drag no one unnecessarily into the public scorn 
 and execration that will be my portion if the story of
 
 366 A Standing Offer 
 
 Kalmaru comes out," I replied. " Though, indeed, Mr. 
 Wilbur, I appreciate your generosity, and will always 
 respect you for your trust." 
 
 He nodded likewise, looking down at me, as he rose. 
 ** That is what I expected, Miss Jerningham," he said 
 quietly. " I did not expect to win so easily. Yet I 
 will win yet ! " His voice became tense, with a curious 
 triumphant ring injfj^. "I'll win yet, Miss Haroun ! 
 You would let me snare your undeserved shame if you 
 liked me well enough. No, don't speak for a moment. 
 You do not like me sufficiently yet ; how could you ? 
 Our acquaintance has been a farce for my manhood, al- 
 ways I have been set in a mean light before you. No, 
 don't try to deny it. You are a true woman, Miss Haroun, 
 and you will never yield to a man who cannot prove 
 he can do something you cannot. And it will be hard 
 for any mortal to do anything you cannot do better. 
 No, one word more. I'm going to do it. I'm in no 
 great haste, for God would never be so cruel as to 
 let me meet the one woman in Earth and Time who 
 is my woman, and then not let me earn her. You hear, 
 Miss Haroun ? I'll earn you yet." 
 
 He spoke with such suppressed, yet orderly passion 
 that I had no reply to make. Then, coolly resuming 
 his business-like tone, he went on : " With regard to* 
 the Bey's threats, after all I am not skilled in the ways 
 of the land, and would be a poor adviser. You have 
 kept all things to yourself so far, I know without asking. 
 Yet there may be some one with wit and knowledge 
 enough to find the way out." 
 
 " I know," I replied eagerly, " I am going to confide 
 in " 
 
 I hesitated, lest he should demur at my trusting the 
 Khanoum Effen*. 
 
 " the Lady of Kalmaru ? " he completed. " Yes, 
 Miss Haroun, and by evening we will know what will be."
 
 Chapter VII 
 
 HER LORDSHIP 
 
 AFTER that encounter with Harvey Wilbur I could not 
 take up the thread of business at once. I stayed on 
 the Ziggorat top after he had left me until I was com- 
 posed enough to go in search of the Khanoum Effen'. 
 At her tent a fresh delay awaited, for Evelyn was there, 
 and it was some time before I could get rid of her. 
 
 And then, alone with the Lady of Kalmaru, I did not 
 know how to begin. There was a sense of tenseness 
 about. From sensitiveness over her disfigurement my 
 companion always went more or less veiled, and, al- 
 though we were in strict privacy, between the folds of 
 silk and the dangling gold I could see little more than 
 a suggestion of the lower half of her face. Still, little 
 as I could see, I knew she was not at ease. 
 
 " Rathia Khanoum, something is amiss with you,'* 
 she said abruptly. 
 
 " Nor are you at ease, Khanoum Effen', " I replied, 
 somewhat at a loss still. 
 
 " I know what ails myself. But what of you, 
 child ? " 
 
 She leant forward, laying one slim hand on my knee. 
 " Is it Halet Bey ? " she asked. 
 
 " What do you know of Halet Bey ? " I blurted, 
 startled. 
 
 " A great deal. For one thing, that he has come early 
 here.'! 
 
 367
 
 368 Her Lordship 
 
 44 That troubles me," I acknowledged. 
 
 44 So. He came in haste that he might have the 
 pleasure of greeting us before we depart to-morrow," 
 she went on. " So he said, before Ischaryar." 
 
 " Khanoum Effen'," I said, " you know Halet Bey 
 well ? " 
 
 " Verily. He guided me to Kalmaru. You know ? 
 And I know his wife likewise. She was the daughter 
 of our nearest neighbour, as neighbours go in Kalmaru 
 district ; and, by Allah, it was a black day 'for her when 
 she married ! " 
 
 " What is the character of Halet ? " I demanded 
 anxiously. 
 
 "It is evil to speak ill of a True Believer." She 
 spoke primly; I could detect the sneer in her tone. 
 " He is a good man, Halet, when it pays him to be good. 
 But mostly he is good to Halet Bey. And to do good 
 to Halet Bey he would burn his own mother." She 
 rose to her feet suddenly. " Can you see my sebleh 
 anywhere, child ? " she asked, peering about. 
 
 I picked it up from a pile of cushions. " Here it is, 
 Khanoum Effen'. But what " 
 
 *' You are to guide me to the room in the trenches 
 where the tablets are," she replied, adjusting the cloak. 
 44 A little evening stroll for the two of us, as the men 
 have now left work. As a matter of fact, I was going 
 to send for you when you came." 
 
 44 But, Khanoum Effen', we were speaking " 
 
 44 We will speak in the Tablet Chamber ; it is more 
 private even than here, for no eavesdropper can 
 approach on the desolate Tel without my hearing." 
 
 She took my arm, and, almost without my own 
 conscious volition, I found myself leading her to the 
 Temple Mound. 
 
 On the way she did not speak, and I did not try to 
 speak. There was something behind all this, and her
 
 Her Lordship 369 
 
 contention as to the suitability of the trenches for 
 private converse was true. We had the empty tunnels 
 and cuttings to ourselves as I led her to the tablet 
 room. 
 
 This was the Temple Library, one of the few rooms 
 we had thought it advisable to clear out fully. It was 
 situated towards the east side of the mound, and was 
 open on to the little track above the bitumen pits. 
 It was stuffy, but fairly lit, a good place for secret 
 conferences. By the walls were masses of clay tablets 
 too melted and scorched and stuck together by the 
 rains of five-and-twenty centuries to be deciphered. 
 
 The Khanoum Effen' leant against the jamb of the 
 entrance, looking over the evening scene she could not 
 see. " It is Halet's arrangement, Rathia Khanoum," 
 she remarked. " It would not do for him to stay too 
 long at my tent, since I am so distant with the other 
 men of the Tel. So we arranged to meet after Sunset 
 Prayer, here, as it were by accident. He has a taste 
 for intrigue, Halet." 
 
 " You arranged ? " I repeated. 
 
 ' Yes, child. I arranged to bring you with me. 
 Why, I know not, but he so requested." She turned 
 to me and her voice shook. " Now, Rathia, child, tell 
 me, what is between you and Halet Bey ? " 
 
 "It is about the gun search at Sliwa Klissia last 
 autumn," I replied. " You have heard of it ? " 
 
 " Verily. It was talk of the district, and for some- 
 thing in connection with it Halet left Bitfa. What has 
 it to do with you ? " 
 
 I told her, briefly, of the Bey's suspicions of my 
 presence at the village. It needed little explanation. 
 At the end she sighed as though deeply relieved. " A 
 mere matter of hidden arms," she said. " Alhamdu 
 'lillah ! So it is nothing worse. I perceive you know 
 of the disappearance."
 
 370 Her Lordship 
 
 " But, Khanoum Effen', if I reveal it, it will make a 
 general persecution of the Chaldaeans of that district 
 at least." 
 
 " Even so," her voice changed. " And Allah alone 
 knows where it would stop, once the Moslem canaille 
 fancied they had a clear case for fear against their 
 Christian neighbours. It is only too evident to me 
 that our baser sort in Turkey are ripe for some universal 
 devilry once the signal is given. Indeed, unless the 
 European Powers act soon, and act firmly, there may 
 be an orgy of blood and fire that will put to the blush 
 the atrocities of Bedr Khan Beg." She spoke in a 
 toneless voice, like a prophet who prophesies from real, 
 bitter knowledge. Giving a little toss to her head, as 
 though shaking away thought, she resumed more 
 briskly : " And if you will not tell what then ? " 
 
 " Indeed I do not exactly know. For one thing, I 
 believe he knows the truth of the Gadarwand raids -" 
 
 " By Allah Al Wahhab, how can he ? I have not 
 spoken Allah forbid ! Nor will Ischaryar let any one 
 know that the brilliant project for paying out the 
 Gadarwands was aught but his own." 
 
 " Then I cannot tell what his threats could mean 
 otherwise," I replied. 
 
 " Tell me those threats. In his words as far as you 
 can," she made answer. She sat down beside me on a 
 heap of tablets, and I told her the exact facts. She 
 held my hand, lightly drumming with a pair of slim, 
 henna-tipped fingers on it, and the invisible eyes be- 
 hind the folds of her veil held mine. And, as I un- 
 burdened my mind, a sense of peace came, for I trusted 
 her, and I knew that if any person could help me it 
 was she. 
 
 " He knows nothing of the Gadarwand affair," she 
 
 coi r\ Q'f" t" il f 1 Ifl^i" 
 
 " But but he has told Mr. Wilbur,'! I faltered.
 
 Her Lordship 371 
 
 "Wilbur Effen'?" her voice was very odd. "Ex- 
 plain that." 
 
 And I told her as much of my interview with the 
 American as I could do without including the part 
 that was sacred. At the conclusion she reflected 
 silently for a minute, then said : 
 
 *' It is not the raid. That Wilbur Effen' knows more 
 than you do, child. He knows because Halet has told 
 him."* 
 
 " What has the Bey told him ? " I asked, in a very 
 agony of apprehension. 
 
 " What I must tell you " She broke off, holding 
 
 up a finger, the noise of footsteps sounded along the 
 path. "Too late," she said; "here is the Bey him- 
 self." 
 
 The open doorway was darkened by the portly figure 
 of the Turk. Up against the grey Eastern sky he stood 
 in silhouette as he saluted us. 
 
 " 'As Salam'," he intoned, and bowed. 
 
 " Bismillah," returned the Khanoum Effen', with a 
 wave of one hand. She sat very upright, as though 
 stiffened for a fray. The Turk came in, bowed again, 
 and seated himself at the other side of the little room. 
 
 " You will pardon me, Effendim, that I requested you 
 to take the trouble of coming hither," he said suavely. 
 " I thought it well that Wilbur Effen' might be able 
 to join our conference." 
 
 4 Wilbur Effen' ! " I repeated. 
 
 " He will join us in a few minutes, I do not doubt." 
 The Bey's tone was an absolute purr. " It was well 
 all concerned in this grave matter should assist at 
 the conclave Allah willing. Also I thought he might 
 have influence with you, Jerningham Effen' " 
 
 " I fail to see what Mr. Wilbur has to do with the 
 affair of Sliwa Klissia," I objected hotly. The light 
 was on one side of the Turk's face, greenish evening
 
 372 Her Lordship 
 
 light, and the features looked unwholesome in it, un- 
 wholesome and menacing. 
 
 " He met you near Sliwa Klissia," he rejoined. " At 
 least, he was there soon before you rejoined your father." 
 
 " It was an accident," I retorted. 
 
 " A clever accident. Such a clever accident as that 
 which brought the Khanoum Effen' here," he rejoined 
 suavely. 
 
 Before I could reply the doorway was blocked again 
 by a leaner figure this time. Harvey Wilbur did not 
 come in. He stood by the side of the entrance. In 
 that position I could see the green light on the side of 
 his face too, but it did not look unwholesome, only keen, 
 and clean, and sharp-cut. 
 
 "Have I your permission to remain, Effen' ?'" he 
 addressed the Lady of Kalmaru as he swept off his hat. 
 
 ' With pleasure, Effen'. Will you not be seated ? " 
 
 " By your grace I will stand here. If by any chance 
 any one passes it will not be possible then to see within. 
 Well, Bey Effen' ? " 
 
 " The business is simple," said the Bey. " Whether 
 you know what became of the arms at Sliwa Klissia is 
 uncertain, but Jerningham Effen' knows, and I doubt 
 not the Khanoum Effen' knows, and in any case I have 
 no doubt both of you will join in persuading Jerning- 
 ham Effen' to tell the plain truth and escape what will 
 otherwise be." 
 
 " You talk in riddles," I replied. " What, further, 
 of the copy of incriminating extracts from my sister's 
 diary ? " 
 
 ** I will produce it, Effen'." He fumbled in his tunic, 
 and, as he unfolded a sheet of paper, went on. " Wilbur 
 Effen', if you know the truth, you will doubtless confess 
 it, lest shame fall on Jerningham Effen', for whom I 
 know you have great regard " 
 
 "Bey Effen'," Mr. Wilbur's tone was a little im-
 
 Her Lordship 373 
 
 patient. " As Sir Home Jerningham's assistant I have 
 the welfare of all his family at heart. But I do not 
 know anything about those arms." 
 
 The Bey shrugged his shoulders, and handed over 
 the sheet. On it, in his own neat script, for he was a 
 good scholar in his way, I read this : 
 
 "October 15. Diz Kalmaru. The Khanoum Effen' 
 and Rathia are awfully friendly, they might have been 
 friends for years. I never knew R. get on so quickly 
 with any one before. I thought it odd she was so bent 
 on turning aside to Kalmaru, but now I understand 
 she knew what she was after 
 
 October 16. Left Kalmaru by secret way, but must 
 not speak of that. It is remarkable how friendly 
 Rathia is with the Khanoum Effen' ; the K. E. conducted 
 us, talking with R. all the way. She seemed cut up 
 at parting with us, at least with R. It was easy to see 
 she did not take much notice of me, although she was 
 kind and gave me a most splendid turquoise ring at 
 parting. She gave Rathia a whole bagful of ancient 
 signets. R. w r as wild with delight ; it must have taken 
 the K. E. years to collect them. The K. E.'s profile is 
 very like R.'s. I suppose it is the Kurdish angle " 
 
 I read it aloud in a low tone. Ending, I looked up, 
 bewildered. " What, in the name of all that is ridi- 
 culous, is this supposed to prove ? " I demanded. 
 
 The Bey gave a little impatient gesture. " Why 
 pretend further, Effen' ? It tends to prove what you 
 know, what I will spread abroad convincingly if you 
 do not tell of the guns. That " 
 
 The Khanoum Effen' checked him with a gesture. 
 Bending to me she said, " I will say it." Her voice was 
 tense, in almost a whisper she concluded : " It is what 
 you do not know yet, Rathia. That I am the Khan 
 Hathia of Amadiyeh. Your mother.'-
 
 Chapter VIII 
 
 THE TRUTH 
 
 WAS it strange ? the announcement did not astonish 
 me so much as it should have done. Rather, my mind 
 began quietly to piece together a hundred past little 
 incidents that were explained by it. There was a spell 
 of silence. Harvey Wilbur leant forward. 
 
 " Miss Jerningham, didn't you know ? " he asked 
 incredulously. 
 
 " My mother died twenty years ago," I said quietly, 
 my eyes fixed on the veiled face of the Khanoum Effen'. 
 She sat, bent forward, as though frozen. 
 
 "Y' Allah!" said the Bey. "You would lie to 
 the Questioning Angels in your grave, Jerningham 
 Effen'." 
 
 Harvey bent further towards the other man. " Bey 
 Effen', only the knowledge that it would make matters 
 worse enables me to refrain from laying my hands on 
 you," he said. 
 
 " As you will, Effen'," replied the Bey, and a re- 
 volver showed in his hand. The Khanoum Effen' 
 stretched a hand between them. 
 
 " Peace ! " she said, in a tone of weary anger. ' You 
 would indeed make bad worse by violence, Wilbur 
 Effen'. Rathia, have you heard how many saw your 
 mother's body ? " 
 
 I shook my head. 
 
 " Only one person," she said, " and that was Sulti, 
 
 374
 
 The Truth 375 
 
 the same Sulti who brought me to the Tel when she 
 suspected something was behind the Bey's coming." 
 
 " Sulti ! " I echoed, and many things became clear 
 in a flash. 
 
 " Sulti, who has been my link with you throughout 
 life," she replied. " Rathia " and her voice became too 
 low for any but myself to hear it " I believe you felt 
 it all through, from Kalmaru onwards." 
 
 There was yearning infinite in her tone. " Rathia, 
 Rathia, my child, say you felt something about me 
 something. Even if it's untrue say it ! " she begged. 
 
 " I will say it, and it is no lie," I replied. " Yes," 
 I seemed to come out of a momentary vision, with all 
 put right in my mental view, " Yes, everything is ex- 
 plained now." I lifted her hand and kissed it. " How 
 you happened to become what you are now I do not 
 know, but I need no more proof's than that my heart 
 and past happenings afford to believe you are my 
 mother." 
 
 The Bey's voice roused us. " Why this pretence, 
 Effen' ? " he demanded. " You have known this long 
 enough " 
 
 " You lie, Effen'," replied my mother. " This secret 
 was between you and me until you forced me to reveal 
 it." 
 
 He sneered. " You forget, your daughter under- 
 stood when I spoke of the awkwardness of my revealing 
 something connected with Kalmaru." 
 
 " She thought it was something else." It was my 
 mother's turn to sneer. " Something else that you do 
 not know, Bey Effen'. We have secrets even you do 
 not know." 
 
 " I know enough for my purpose," he retorted, and, 
 turning to me : " You have acknowledged it, Effen' ; 
 here is your mother and the only lawful wife your father 
 has had, according to the law of Europe."
 
 376 The Truth 
 
 Nobody spoke as he paused, and he went on : " What 
 of the other woman, the great English lady he 
 married ? She was no wife. What of the young 
 sister you love and the young brothers whose names 
 are so often on your lips ? They have no right by 
 the curious laws of the Feringhis to their father's 
 name. That is what I will circulate abroad if I 
 choose." 
 
 I sat up with a start as this aspect of the case was 
 put before me. The enigma of his threats was solved. 
 " You boast foolishly," I faltered. " You could circu- 
 late scandal, but how would that hurt us ? " 
 
 " Because your father would have to trace down that 
 scandal, and when he traced it to me I would prove it. 
 I who led Rathia Khan to Kalmaru." 
 
 " But, Bey Effen', you cannot set out to circulate a 
 scandal, like a spiteful gossip," Mr. Wilbur put in. 
 
 " Wilbur Effen', I do not propose to do so. It will 
 do no harm to explain. There is a priest at Tekrit who 
 is my spiritual guide. In moments of spiritual distress 
 or dilemma I resort to him. Now, in my youth I did 
 wrong, leading the Khan Rathia, a wedded woman, 
 away with one who was not her husband. But I was 
 young and tempted by her offers of coin, also I thought 
 it was not so ill that I should assist to draw a Moslemah 
 away from her sinful connection with a Christian 
 
 man " 
 
 . " Khanoum Effen'," Mr. Wilbur interrupted. " Why 
 must I stand listening to this hound ? Why cannot I 
 kill him and be done with it ? " 
 
 " Because you do not know how many others have 
 the secret to publish abroad if anything happens to 
 me," the Bey answered. 
 
 " Yes, Wilbur Effen'," my mother added. " It is so. 
 Violence will not answer." 
 
 " So I did," the Bey resumed. " The old scandal
 
 The Truth 377 
 
 died in my mind. Until the Khan Rathia came shame- 
 lessly to rejoin her old Christian lover " 
 
 I jumped up with a cry. My mother pulled me 
 down. " We three know it is a lie, but have patience," 
 she exhorted. " The Bey is setting forth what his 
 Mollah at Tekrit will believe." 
 
 " Even so," the Bey bowed. ** And he is a zealous 
 Moslem, my spiritual guide. What he will do I can- 
 not say in a word. It may be that the zealots of Tekrit 
 and round about will come to Abou Khatoun to deal 
 with your father as they think fit. It may be you will 
 all escape with your lives. I trust so, for the noise of 
 the affair will spread the cause of it sufficiently. I 
 have spoken." 
 
 " It is truth," my mother confirmed. '* A new 
 generation has arisen since my marrying your father 
 was an open secret ; and a worse. Your father is re- 
 spected, but when the Mollahs raise the cry of 4 Allah 
 hath given ! ' only Allah and Eblis can tell what the 
 outcome will be." 
 
 There was a little silence, and I saw it all. The riot, 
 possible death, the inquiry, the Mollahs spreading our 
 tale, backed by the Bey's name and evidence. The 
 scandal that could not be stopped. And, after all, 
 what did it matter so much what happened to us out- 
 wardly, when my father, and Evelyn, and the boys, 
 would know the hideous truth of their relationship ? 
 My world had come down in pieces, and I was helpless. 
 
 " A dark picture, Effen'," the Bey's voice broke in 
 on my confused meditations. " Look at the alternative. 
 Ten sentences, to tell the truth of Sliwa Klissia. A 
 signed statement. All is done, my lips are sealed, I 
 am restored to favour, I am your good friend." 
 
 His tone was absolutely coaxing. My mother re- 
 mained quietly holding my hand, her head bowed. Mr. 
 Wilbur's eyes were fixed on me frankly.
 
 378 The Truth 
 
 " I promised not to reveal the secret," I said, and it 
 was as though I spoke without my own will. I looked 
 at the Bey, but with the side of my vision I saw 
 approval snap from the eyes of the American. 
 
 My mother spread her hands. " God have mercy on 
 us ! " she said. " Mine is the guilt. My heart wishes 
 you had chosen otherwise, my daughter, but my soul 
 knows you are right." She stood up. " Before Allah 
 Almighty mine is the guilt 1 But for me none of this 
 would have come to pass, and at the Resurrection of 
 the Damned I will pay for all. It is just ; Allah is the 
 Aware. I murmur not, but why must the innocent 
 suffer ? Would I could die, and die in torment, to keep 
 the punishment on my own head ! " 
 
 " Mother ! Do not say such things ! " I begged. 
 
 " It is sweet to hear you say it, my Rathia. It is a 
 sweeter joy than ever I deserve. Yet I speak the truth, 
 and I pray Allah the Generous, Z'ul Jalali wa'l Ikram, 
 that He will yet divert the punishment on my head 
 and let the guiltless escape. As He can do, Bey Effen', 
 at the last moment, if He will." 
 
 The Bey shrugged his shoulders. " Effen', I would 
 far rather hear of those guns than cause distress to 
 any one on this Tel. By '1 Aziz, I speak truth." 
 
 He rose in turn. " Effen' " he spoke to me " I 
 am not hard, and I desire to mend my fortunes, not to 
 distress you. You are firm now, I perceive ; but in a 
 little while better counsel may come. Until I come to 
 bid ye all a fair night, as is the custom, I give you a 
 space for reflection. Remember, you can do nothing 
 to stop me. Tell your father if you will." He laughed 
 aloud. '* You are in my hand, and it will take but a 
 few hours to do what I have hinted, once the Mollah 
 at Tekrit hears my story. Until the night, 'As Salam.' " 
 
 He bowed himself out, and strode away along the 
 track. Harvey Wilbur stood upright, silhouetted
 
 The Truth 379 
 
 against the darkening sky. " So there is nothing for 
 me to do but to wait ? " he said bitterly. " Miss 
 Jerningham, can I do nothing ? " 
 
 " Nothing," I replied. 
 
 His eyes flashed in the dark. ** There are a few 
 hours yet. We may think of something. At least I 
 must countermand the arrangements I made to ride to 
 Mosul to-morrow. If only you could have told me ! " 
 
 He bowed to us both, and was gone in turn. 
 
 " My sin, and others must suffer," said my mother, 
 when we were alone. " My sin of twenty years ago, 
 and those then unborn must suffer ! Ah, Allah sends 
 punishment more grievous than His creatures can 
 bear ! " 
 
 Her tone was neither bitter nor angry, only nor glad 
 nor sorry nor hoping nor afraid, the tone of one past 
 mortal comfort, or mortal emotion. I placed my hand 
 on her mouth. 
 
 " No, no, my mother ! " I begged. " He is most 
 
 merciful and compassionate. It may be good for us 
 
 But, oh, my poor sister ! " 
 
 " My sin, and she suffers ! " responded my companion 
 steadily. " You have not asked of my sin, child," she 
 laughed, and it was harsh and sadder than tears. " After 
 all, Halet elucidated it." 
 
 " He told us something that sounded ill," I replied. 
 " But I bear in mind that he is going to tell another 
 tale to the Mollah in a way that will make it out more 
 ill than it is." 
 
 "It is worth everything, save the sufferings of the 
 innocent, to hear you defend me, Rathia," she replied, 
 a more wholesome passion in her tone. 
 
 " Do you need defending ? " I demanded, coming 
 closer to her, and looking into the shade where her eyes 
 were. " After the intertangled business of all these 
 months I can believe that the truth of anything can be
 
 380 The Truth 
 
 the opposite of what it seems at first, particularly, 
 my mother, when it is an evil-sounding tale about 
 you." 
 
 " Ah, Allah the Aware, I do not deserve this ! Yet it 
 is sweet ! " There was a liquid break in her voice now. 
 " Yet, before Him, Rathia, my sin was somewhat less 
 than it appears. Shall I tell you of it, child, that you 
 may be armed with truth when the need of it 
 comes ? " 
 
 " Tell me, mother, if you choose. Or, if you do not 
 choose 'so to do, leave me ignorant, and when Halet 
 speaks I will be content to say I believe without evidence 
 in my mother's righteousness." 
 
 " Ah, child, so might Majnoun have spoken of Lailah ! 
 By Allah, this is sweet, though undeserved. I prefer to 
 tell you, and you shall judge. Of how I came to Diz 
 Kalmaru you have heard, and of my life there since. I 
 left your father that was my crime. And I left him 
 for this reason : that before it two other things had left 
 us love, my dear, and peace of mind. I tell you the 
 truth, my daughter, that you may judge between the 
 two of us. And I do not doubt that your judgment 
 will be that, to that point, both of us were innocent. 
 Your father is innocent still ; on me the blame rests, 
 and if the judgment could but rest on me likewise ! 
 Child, our marrying was a mistake, a thing of hasty 
 passion and slow repentance. Your father is a good 
 man, a just and noble man, a man to make a woman 
 proud and happy provided she be of his own race. 
 The bonds fretted, my dear, before many months were 
 past. Yes, I knew it was a mistake, and I knew he 
 realised it, and, by Allah, it would have been easier to 
 bear if he had been less considerate if he had insulted 
 my intelligence less by trying to keep up the semblance 
 of affection that was long dead ! This is the truth, and 
 perhaps you will understand it."
 
 The Truth 381 
 
 " I think I do," I whispered. 
 
 " And when you came, niy dear, he loved you as his 
 own soul ; but love for you did not revive his love for 
 your mother. Then the case was hopeless. You were 
 my solace, child, but you brought a new trouble. In 
 the first days of love and the latter day of fret I had 
 forgotten one thing, having no room in my mind for it. 
 Now it came back. We lived on sufferance, you must 
 understand, by leave of the way the priests winked at 
 our history, but ever we were on the brink of disaster. 
 A single offended Mollah would have been our doom, 
 and for your sake alone I dreaded it. Your father did 
 not understand it as well as I did, but I understood it 
 but too well, and that on me alone the burden rested. 
 It is easy for a mother to die for her child, but it is 
 wrong to die of purpose. Besides, I could not bear to 
 leave you." 
 
 She paused, looking, with eyes that could not see, at 
 the darkening plain. " Then, when we were encamped 
 out in Kurdistan, the solution came. A hostile 
 Mollah rose and offered me a choice. He was a town 
 Kurd, a cousin of my own, a Sharif and a Hajji. A 
 promising combination, eh ? " she laughed. " He had 
 known us in Mosul, he visited us at the encampment, 
 and he offered me a choice. He wanted me, my dear, 
 that is the sordid truth. And his offer was that I 
 should come with him, away from my Christian asso- 
 ciates. He was a stern bigot, my cousin the Sharif ; he 
 thought I deserved punishment for what I had done, 
 but for his own passion's sake he would spare me if I 
 repented and forsook my ill ways. If I came with him, 
 in short. Otherwise, he intended to raise a crusade 
 against us in the heart of Kurdistan, my dear I It 
 was like Allah's own arrangement. There was Sulti to 
 take charge of you and to keep me informed of your 
 welfare yes, child" she paused to laugh, and this
 
 882 The Truth 
 
 time her laugh was gentle. " Through your life I have 
 been ever in the background, watching you from my 
 hidden nook, how closely you can never guess ! " 
 
 " I can believe it," I answered, as she paused. 
 
 " You understand. This Sharif, my cousin, was 
 bound for Trebizond. I died, as you know, and was 
 buried, while really I was faring away with him. And 
 we met the Gadarwands the rest you know. Halet, 
 the Turkish servant of the Sharif, was in the secret, and 
 he agreed with the lie I told, for his skin's sake. And 
 now you understand." 
 
 " You left me for my own sake. That is all, in a 
 word," I replied. 
 
 " You are my daughter," she answered. " Even so, 
 and I have watched over you. Allah the Aware could 
 not have done it better 1 There are few cleverer women 
 than Sulti, child, and none other to whom I would have 
 entrusted you and if any had used you ill Sulti would 
 have been my proxy." 
 
 I quite shuddered. " My father's second wife ? " 
 
 I hinted. 
 
 " Allah rest her ! " replied my mother warmly. 
 " Christians are People of the Book, and of them she 
 is surely in Allah's heaven now. She played the part 
 of a mother's sister to you and I have played the part 
 of worst enemy to her daughter 1 I would I knew of 
 these guns at Sliwa Klissia." 
 
 She looked at me sideways. " I cannot betray the 
 helpless, my mother," I answered. 
 
 She sighed deeply. " Then it is better you should 
 alone be in possession of the secret. I would protect 
 the helpless too. But there are degrees. Those Chal- 
 daeans are no affair of mine, and your little sister is, 
 for but for my action she would never have been born. 
 By Allah, I do not say it would be the lesser crime to 
 betray them to save her, but I would be tempted. I,
 
 The Truth 3S3 
 
 who, under Allah and Eblis, am the cause of all. I, who 
 cannot even save the child by my own life ! Have I 
 deserved all this, Rathia, my daughter ? " 
 
 " My mother, Allah is just," I replied. " And there 
 is yet a little space before the blow falls."
 
 Chapter IX 
 
 TO MAKE LIVE OR TO SLAY 
 
 WE stayed in the Tablet Chamber until the chill of 
 closing night warned us we would be missed and sent 
 us out on the ledge-path. The shadow of night was 
 crawling over the sky, the plain was hidden in the 
 nebulous dusk before the moon should rise, and there 
 was radiated heat in all the air. From the bitumen pits 
 deep beneath us the sound of the slow- breaking bubbles 
 and the hiss of gas from them was very distinct, and the 
 pitch-reek and its companion sulphur were insistent 
 beyond the common. It was a gloomy and a suggestive 
 scene, and it accorded with the sinister happenings that 
 were hatching unseen behind the orderly life of the Tel. 
 
 As I guided my companion along the narrow track a 
 figure rose up from its seat a little farther on and strode 
 out of sight round a bend. 
 
 " The Effen' Wilbur," said my mother. 
 
 " Can you see so well ? " I asked, surprised. 
 
 " Nay, but I know his step. Indeed, Rathia, it is one 
 of the steps I have learnt to distinguish with most speed. 
 He waited out of earshot to save us from interruption.'- 
 
 " Probably," I agreed. 
 
 " It is like Wilbur Effen'," she said, peering at me, 
 although I knew she could not distinguish my features. 
 
 "It is like him," I agreed absently. 
 
 We returned to the encampment, and by the tombs 
 Papa met us, and stopped us to make joking and compli- 
 
 384
 
 " To Make Live or to Slay " 385 
 
 mentary speeches about our absence. Furthermore, he 
 informed us that, in honour to our guests before their 
 departure next day, the diggers, who were being feasted 
 for the same purpose, meant to indulge in an orgy of 
 dancing and the inevitable bitumen bonfire. He was 
 in uncommonly good spirits, the Khanoum Effen' made 
 her usual smothered replies and her customary shy 
 escape from prolonged conversation. And I had no 
 mental freshness left to appreciate the grotesquerie of it. 
 
 Life had to be taken up as usual. Sulti awaited me, 
 with a loud scolding for my lateness. When we were 
 alone she looked at me very straightly. 
 
 " I took the Bey's message for the appointment," she 
 said simply. " Walls have ears, my Rathia Khatoun. 
 Particularly tent walls." 
 
 So I only replied : " Twenty years, Sulti ! " 
 
 " They were good years," she responded composedly. 
 " When a woman is capable of keeping a secret she 
 does it well. Now thou wilt understand many things, 
 Rathia Khatoun. As to whatever trouble that smooth 
 liar Halet Bey has raked up, there are three women 
 against him, when I have heard of it from the Khanoum 
 Effen', and Allah aid the man with three women pitted 
 against him ! " 
 
 " The time is so short, Sulti." 
 
 " Please Allah, there is no such thing as Time with 
 Him. Where He aids an hour is as a thousand years 
 and a thousand years as an hour, and He is on our 
 side." 
 
 And she would say no more. 
 
 I cannot say how the next hours passed, for all I 
 remember is the eternal thought of the day's revelations 
 and the night's decision that rode my wearied brain. 
 Outwardly I must have kept up a fair semblance of my 
 ordinary manner, for Papa made no more than a com- 
 ment on my being a little distrait, and was quite satisfied 
 13
 
 386 " To Make Live or to Slay " 
 
 when he learnt that I had been sitting above the pits 
 with our chief guest for an indiscreetly long time. 
 
 The whole Tel was noisy that night as the diggers 
 and their families feasted and made merry round great 
 fires where sheep roasted whole. The ravine of the pits 
 was the selected spot, and from end to end it was dotted 
 with cooking- fires, and so redolent of roast meat that the 
 sulphur fumes were drowned. Only they had resumed 
 their sway when, later, all the meat was eaten, and the 
 sports commenced. It was then, when night had well 
 set in, that we of the encampments went forth to view 
 the scene. I stayed with my mother on a convenient 
 little sheltered platform along the ledge-path from the 
 Tablet Chamber, well away from the pits, while the 
 others strayed about as they chose. 
 
 It was bright moonlight, a night of singular hush as 
 far as earth and air went. The noisy ravine seemed 
 enclosed in by walls of silence, dead and ominous, 
 extending to the far bounds of space. The earth was 
 still disagreeably hot to the touch ; the air, for all the 
 transparent moonlight, seemed heavy and thick. The 
 Jebel Hamrin, a vision of sheer distance in the white 
 Jight, seemed curiously chill. Down in the ravine it 
 was like Tophet turned mannerly, for a bundle of 
 burning brushwood was flung into each pit as soon as 
 we had negotiated the ledge, and the flames surged up 
 in so many fountains of fire, enveloped in smoke that 
 writhed in mighty columns up in the still night-air. 
 Up over the ravine top the smoke gathered and spread 
 into a canopy, a squirming black canopy, lit redly 
 underneath, that shut off the sky and stars and shut in 
 the ravine, speckled with smaller fires and heaving 
 with wild figures that pranced round the fires, and 
 noisy with the roaring of flames, war-cries, Arab songs, 
 and shrill melodies provided by a pack of itinerant 
 Kurdish musicians.
 
 " To Make Live or to Slay " 387 
 
 Papa and his court moved about, too distant to be 
 discerned by more than the stir that accompanied them, 
 the Beg and his henchmen like butterflies in their 
 silken best, hung with gold and turquoises, the Bey 
 magnificent in splashes of gold lace, Evelyn a vision of 
 white and gold. It was a night to be remembered by 
 all the workers on Tel Abou Khatoun. 
 
 I suppose my mother saw and heard as little, con- 
 sciously, as I did as we sat looking down on all in our 
 dignified isolation, and spoke of what must be. There 
 was a track from our eyrie down to the bottom of the 
 ravine, and up and down this various members of the 
 party drifted at intervals for a word with us. The 
 smoke had hidden the last glimpse of stars, and a little 
 chill was coming into the air, when Mr. Wilbur squired 
 up a small Arab boy. 
 
 " Sitt Effen', an antikah," the child tendered a little 
 Beltis statuette, which he had retrieved somewhere. 
 I handed over the customary coin. He stowed it in the 
 fold of his one garment, which was of an amplitude to 
 make one fold. *' Sitt Effen', the money is for my 
 mother and my father," he announced. " This is for 
 the Effen' from her slave." 
 
 He produced from behind his back a little bunch of 
 thyme and marjoram. " Lord knows how many times 
 he risked his neck to get it, Miss Jerningham," said 
 Harvey Wilbur admiringly, for such fresh herbs were 
 only to be found in the more inaccessible crevices of 
 the Tel. The boy went off with a peacock gait, as I 
 refrained from more than verbal thanks. Mr. Wilbur 
 lingered. 
 
 ' Well, ladies ? " he asked anxiously. 
 
 " All is settled," my mother answered with com- 
 posure. " My daughter will tell Sir Home this night." 
 
 " I suppose that's the only course," he conceded 
 gloomily. " Perhaps Sir Home ? "
 
 388 " To Make Live or to Slay " 
 
 " He can do nothing," she replied to his pause. 
 ** Only it were well he were forewarned. Also he must 
 decide whether it is better I should leave the Tel 
 to-morrow, or make excuse to linger." 
 
 " You are right," he agreed. " But, Khanoum 
 Effen', I find it hard to believe this is actual life, not a 
 nightmare from which we will wake " 
 
 " Life is but a dream from which we will awake, 
 Wilbur Effen'." 
 
 " I know ; but this seems so senseless. It is hard 
 to believe the Bey will fulfil his threats. He will gair, 
 nothing by doing it." 
 
 *' He will gain revenge for his thwarted ambitions,'' 
 she replied. "As to fulfilling them, they would have 
 had no weight if we had not known he would do so." 
 
 Before he could answer another figure came up the 
 track, dark against the lit ravine. " I made Papa bring 
 me here," Evelyn's voice announced. " It's stuffy 
 down there and I want to speak to you, Rathia. Don't 
 go, Mr. Wilbur ; I'm glad you happened to be handy." 
 
 She subsided on the rug opposite me. Now her face 
 was turned to the light it showed perplexed and a 
 little angry. " Some one has been talking," she re- 
 marked. " It's safe with Halet Bey, of course, but I 
 feel worried as to how far it has gone." 
 
 We all looked at her in consternation. " What has 
 the Bey done, or said ? " I asked, and I knew I went 
 pale. 
 
 " Somebody has been talking," she proceeded, un- 
 heeding. "As far as^ can make out, the four of us, 
 and Mrs. Kent, were the only people who knew about 
 it. Now the Bey is in it, and I do not yet know how 
 he learnt about it. It's dangerous." 
 
 " What on earth are you talking about ? " I de- 
 manded. 
 
 " Why, Halet Bey got me by myself and started to
 
 " To Make Live or to Slay " 389 
 
 tell me he feared all the family would get into disgrace 
 and trouble over a certain matter connected with Kur- 
 distan in which you, Rathia, are particularly involved. 
 That was how he began." 
 
 She paused, looking at us all in turn. The light 
 coming from beneath made her expression a complete 
 enigma. I tried to speak and failed. My mother drew 
 her veil closer. Mr. Wilbur, standing above Evelyn, 
 looked down at her, his face set and hard. 
 
 " He went on to say it was known to you, Khanoum 
 Effen', and to you, Mr. Wilbur," she went on. " And 
 that if it leaks out it will bring disgrace on the family. 
 That is what he said. He went on to say he did not 
 know if it was known to me or to my father." 
 
 It dawned on us all. The Bey had told her the truth 
 of the Khanoum Effen', and had sent her to us for con- 
 firmation or contradiction. And what use would 
 contradiction be ? Undoubtedly he hoped her entreaties 
 to us to save her name and her mother's name by 
 revealing the other secret would do what nothing else 
 could. All this raced through my mind in the little 
 pause before she resumed : 
 
 " I suppose he meant well, but I felt very angry at 
 the suggestion that you could have any secret that 
 would be disgraceful, Rathia. So I told him politely I 
 was grateful for his warning, but I knew all about the 
 matter he referred to, and, while it might get us into 
 trouble, I failed to see any disgrace about it." 
 
 She paused again, frowning. " He seemed much 
 surprised, and even looked as though he did not believe 
 me, but before he could say anything further the 
 Onbashi came to report there was a row at the other 
 end of the ravine and he had to turn me over to Papa. 
 And I thought I'd come about it at once." 
 
 The evil had been averted for a little while. The com- 
 fort of that was little enough. " What made you say
 
 390 " To Make Live or to Slay " 
 
 you knew about it, instead of hearing him out, child ? " 
 asked my mother. " Was it a quixotic desire not even 
 to hear a word against your sister ? " 
 
 ** Why, Khanoum Effen', I do know about it of course. 
 I don't believe in fibs, and what would have been the 
 use of that ? " The girl laughed quite cheerily. " A 
 secret shared by you and Rathia and Mr. Wilbur could 
 only be a certain one. And I had known about it for 
 months. Since Christmas." 
 
 We all three remained dumb. It was past under- 
 standing. " Oh, I know," she declared, " I think I re- 
 member how many revolvers went into each of your 
 boots, and I certainly know how clever it was of you to 
 get the guns out of the windows into the river, and to 
 play corpse in the coffin until the real one could be put 
 in again. Yes, Rathia, I know it all, and I've been 
 worshipping you more than ever in secret ever since I 
 learnt it." 
 
 Mr. Wilbur gave a little strangled gasp that might 
 have meant anything. She looked full at me with what 
 could only be utter youthful admiration in her sparkling 
 eyes. 
 
 *' Of course you recognised her in the coffin, Mr. 
 Wilbur," she added. " As to you, Khanoum Effen', I 
 do not know how you were concerned in it, but since 
 the Bey knew you were well, you are." 
 
 ' You are quite right, my dear, I know all about it," 
 replied my mother gently. 
 
 There was nothing to be said. The utter bewilder- 
 ment of this last complication left me speechless. Mr. 
 Wilbur voiced the question I had no sense left to ask. 
 
 " Simply enough," replied Evelyn. " You see, Rathia, 
 the wife of the Rayis, the lady who did up your hair in 
 the local fashion, was in some doubt as to whether her 
 sister had been properly interred, the service having been 
 wasted on you. So she asked Mrs. Kent. And Mrs.
 
 44 To Make Live or to Slay " 391 
 
 Kent, when she was in Mosul for Christmas, told me 
 under seal of secrecy. She did not tell Papa, because it 
 would be awkward for him to know about such a thing 
 when he owes so much to the Sultan, but she thought 
 some one in the family ought to know the rights of it, 
 in case of inquiries, and I believe she has a good opinion 
 of my discretion. And what I want to know now is : 
 How did the Bey get hold of it, and how many other 
 people know of it ? " 
 
 " Heaven knows," I recovered my voice at last. 
 '* And Heaven grant it is not known to any one who will 
 bring persecution on the Chaldaeans by revealing it." 
 
 " I know," she nodded, very grave now, " Mrs. Kent 
 explained it all. And that's why I thought it better 
 to come straight to you." 
 
 44 You did right, child," my mother spoke, and there 
 was much meaning in her voice. " You may safely 
 leave this matter to us. We are all older and more 
 experienced than you. Indeed, you may leave all in our 
 hands." 
 
 44 1 feel a load off my mind," said Evelyn, getting up. 
 
 44 We will discuss and decide," answered my mother. 
 
 44 Then you can tell us what you are going to do 
 later. I promised Papa I would not be long. Yes, 
 there he is coming for me. I'll leave all in your 
 hands." 
 
 " In so doing you will leave it in the appointed hands," 
 my mother returned. Evelyn, all Western at heart, 
 shook away thoughts of the trouble at once. 44 You will 
 find out and tell me all ? " she said. 
 
 My mother inclined her stately head. ' 4 Yes, and 
 directly you see Halet Bey bid him to come here at 
 once." 
 
 44 Now Fm quite satisfied." Evelyn turned to me. 
 44 So you see I know what a grand creature you are ! ** 
 she whispered, and flitted away.
 
 392 " To Make Live or to Slay " 
 
 I sprang to my feet. Mr. Wilbur laid a checking hand 
 on my arm. 
 
 " It is out of your hands now, Miss Jerningham," 
 he said. " It is in mine." 
 
 " It is my problem " I protested wildly. 
 
 ** Providence has made it mine," he replied. " And 
 it is hard. Oh God, it's hard ! You or those Chal- 
 daeans ! " 
 
 " It is in the man's hands, now," said my mother 
 quietly. " Go aside, if you will, children, and speak 
 of it." 
 
 It was better. I did not like even her ears to hear 
 me plead. Mr. Wilbur strode down along the ledge 
 until he was near the fiery pit nearest to the side. He 
 stood looking down at the writhing flames. "It's 
 hard," he repeated. 
 
 " The road of honour is hard," I said. 
 
 He did not look at me. " The Chaldaeans or you," 
 he muttered. 
 
 " Honour or dishonour," I interposed. 
 
 " And which is honour and which dishonour ? " he 
 asked sharply. 
 
 " To betray the innocent " I began. 
 
 ' You and your sister are innocent," he retorted. 
 
 *' We are two weighed against many thousands," I 
 replied. He turned and looked at me. * 
 
 " One can outweigh many thousands sometimes," he 
 said. He walked along the track, the fire blazing so 
 near that it lifted the hair on my left temple as I fol- 
 lowed him. We were almost within sight of the black 
 mouth of the Tablet Chamber when he turned again. 
 
 " I could decide better by myself," he said harshly. 
 
 " You would seek out the Bey before you have time 
 to think and come to a just conclusion," I answered. 
 
 He twisted round again and we faced one another, 
 up on the ledge under the ominous black canopy with
 
 " To Make Live or to Slay " 393 
 
 its fiery supports, and over the mimic Tophet. Others 
 who marked us doubtless thought we were showing one 
 another the beauties of the scene, while we really debated 
 the fate of thousands fire and darkness and worse. 
 So we looked at one another in the murkily diabolical 
 glow of the flaming pits. A red glint was in the Ameri- 
 can's eyes, a light from inside. 
 
 " My problem," he repeated, his face set starkly and 
 his nostrils twitching. " My problem, and, Rathia, I 
 love you well enough to let all the world suffer to save 
 you." 
 
 " Oh, Harvey ! " the name came out involuntarily 
 " are you not capable of loving me better than that ? 
 Can you not believe I would rather suffer than be saved 
 at cost of others' suffering ? " 
 
 " Rathia, I know that." His forehead was beaded, 
 and every drop was like a globe of bloody fire. " I know 
 it, Rathia, but it is for me to decide." 
 
 We walked back, without taking any more heed of 
 outward things than sufficed to keep us from going over 
 the edge. I knew what was passing in the man's mind, 
 and kept silence. Only I hoped he would decide, and 
 decide for the Chaldseans, soon. I had a sense, a mean, 
 sneaking sense, at the back of my consciousness that if he 
 hesitated longer I would give in, that I would beg him 
 to save me and mine and let the others pay for us. I 
 knew it, and I wanted him to save me from my worse self. 
 Visions were rising in my mind visions of what might 
 happen if a Mollah set the bigots of Tekrit on us, visions, 
 far worse in their way, of Evelyn and my father in pos- 
 session of the shameful truth. 
 
 So we, not observing, reached the top of the track, 
 and were roused by a call from above us. 
 
 " Jerningham Effen', Wilbur Effen', by your grace ! " 
 
 It was Halet Bey's voice, and we looked up to behold 
 him leaning against the bank over the sombre, veiled 
 13*
 
 394 " To Make Live or to Slay " 
 
 figure of my mother. A complacent smile illuminated 
 his fat features. 
 
 " It is settled. AlhamduTllah ! " he called, and we 
 came to our senses. We had forgotten, both of us, that 
 there was another factor in the problem. 
 
 The Bey turned to us, his face complacently happy. 
 " Please Allah, Jerningham Efien', He hath given to you 
 a wise mother He is the Bestower and the Beneficent ! " 
 he went on. " Now all is clear, and indeed it is most 
 amazing, and most complimentary to your wit and 
 resource, Jerningham EffenY' 
 
 " Complimentary ? " I repeated. " Mother, have 
 you betrayed all ? " 
 
 She stood up, a sibylline figure, sombre draperies 
 red-lit by the leaping pit-fires, the slim hand that held 
 the veil together reddened so that the henna-tipped 
 fingers seemed dipped in blood. 
 
 " I have retrieved the wrong I began," she replied in 
 a toneless voice. " And on my head alone will the 
 judgment fall. To make live or to slay was put in 
 my hands, my daughter, and I have dealt out life 
 and slaying as I deemed meet. AlhamduTllah ! Mine 
 was the fault, and mine shall all the punishment be ! 
 Praise be to Him, Zu'l Jalali wa'J Ikram I "
 
 HOW THE PIT TOOK 
 
 ' You have chosen wrongly, O my mother ! " I cried. 
 " Mother, I thought better of you ! Think of what 
 you have brought on me to make the world believe 
 I helped and then betrayed " 
 
 ** You have said nothing. It was taken out of your 
 hands by Allah's will." Her voice was still toneless. 
 
 " The Bey must have proof, and only my signed con- 
 fession will serve. That you forgot " 
 
 * Your evidence is not wanted, child." Her voice 
 became a little bitter. " Your young sister believes in 
 the righteousness of all you do, Rathia. Can you not 
 believe in me ? You did not confess the truth. I did." 
 
 " Mother ! " I began to realise. 
 
 '* You helped your fellow believers," she pursued. 
 " For that you will be well esteemed by all right-think- 
 ing folk. You confided in me, your elder, trusted 
 friend, and I betrayed them, and your confidence. I, 
 who am also the friend of Halet Bey. Who knows what 
 reward the Bey is going to give me I, whose signed 
 confession will be his proof ? " 
 
 There was a momentary silence. " Khanoum Effen'," 
 said Harvey in a tense voice, " you are the very 
 mother of your daughter." 
 
 She inclined her head a little. " It was on those 
 terms alone I undertook to enlighten the Bey Effen'," 
 she said. 
 
 ss
 
 396 How the Pit Took 
 
 " And by Allah I am glad," he assured us generally. 
 " Believe me, that though I would have fulfilled my 
 threats, I am rejoiced that I have been saved the in- 
 fliction of trouble on you and yours, Jerningham Effen'. 
 Truly Allah sent the excellent Khanoum Effen' here 
 that all might be settled fairly." 
 
 There was something peculiarly repulsive about the 
 real good-humour of the man. " We can tell the little 
 Effen' Evelyn that there is no need to trouble further 
 about the matter; that has been put right," he con- 
 cluded. 
 
 " Right ! The Chaldseans ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " It was in my hands to slay and to make live, to 
 save and to kill," my mother replied. 
 
 " After all, what will happen is but what would 
 have happened, by Allah's ordering, but for your inter- 
 ference," the Bey consoled. " We simply, by Allah's 
 permission, eliminate the said interference, and Fate 
 moves on its destined way." 
 
 " Kismet, and on me, the guilty, will the blame 
 rest," my mother supplemented. " I am weary, Bey 
 Effen', and I hear the voices of the others approach. 
 Will you lead me back to the encampment before they 
 are here ? I am indisposed to converse with others, 
 and I wish to have the confession you will draw out 
 signed as soon as possible." 
 
 He bowed courteously. " Even so, Khanoum Effen'. 
 I perceive the fires are out, and we may pass safely." 
 
 The fires had died down, each pit surface was now 
 a blank blackness, spread with smoke alone going up 
 lazily to join the canopy, and with little jets of gas 
 spirting here and there. 
 
 " They are but dormant," my mother corrected, in 
 the easy tone of one giving information. " A cinder 
 crust has formed, and presently the men will, by way of 
 last glory, fling in stones to break it and make a greater
 
 How the Pit Took 397 
 
 blaze. I pray you, Bey Effen', call to them to hold 
 their hands until we are safe at the Tablet Chamber." 
 
 The Bey called down to the several men who waited 
 with stones poised, and received a promise back. My 
 mother suddenly turned to take my hands and thrust 
 her face near mine. " My child, my child ! " she 
 whispered. " Do not think too ill of me, for, Allah's 
 sake ! It was given into my hands, and can you not 
 trust me, although you see me give half a nation and 
 my own soul for you ? " 
 
 ** I I " I stammered. " At least I love you 
 
 still, my mother." 
 
 " Then it is a soul well lost ! " She flung her arms 
 round me, kissed me clingingly, and abruptly dragged 
 herself away. 
 
 " The others come, Bey Effen','* she said. " Let us 
 go first, for I must arrange the last details with you." 
 
 She touched the bank to make sure of her bearings, 
 and, with her fingers rippling along it, moved along the 
 track, speaking in a low tone to the Bey. The last 
 words I caught were : 
 
 " Yea, verily, I will sleep the better to-night if I 
 have that book destroyed." 
 
 "It is out of our hands," said Harvey, as I looked 
 at him. 
 
 The others came up, also bent homewards, and fell 
 in behind, laughing together. I would have joined the 
 two in front, but my mother whispered : " Reassure 
 your sister," and I dropped back to speak with Evelyn. 
 
 So we went along the ledge above the sinister pits, 
 my mother and the Turk first, Harvey, Evelyn, and I 
 a little behind, Papa and the Beg brought up the rear, 
 laughing at their own jests. 
 
 I cannot tell how it happened. I have always 
 avoided a clear recollection of it in my own mind. The 
 black opening of the Tablet Chamber was in sight,
 
 398 How the Pit Took 
 
 round a concave curve of the path ; in the ravine the 
 diggers waited the signal for the last grand display. 
 The dormant pits belched up a gas flame now and 
 then. My eyes were fixed gloomily on the pair in 
 front. Just as they were above the largest pit a jet 
 of flame leapt up, illuminating all for a startling moment. 
 My mother, startled, gave a little cry, stumbled, lurched 
 and stretched her hands, as purblind folk do when at 
 a loss, and caught the Bey's arm. For a moment I 
 saw the two figures sway up against the black gap of 
 the Tablet Chamber, and was paralysed. The Bey 
 gave a hoarse cry, something darted past me like a 
 flash of golden light, and almost simultaneously a 
 blinding stream of scarlet and white flame seemed to 
 leap up and envelop the world. There were cries all 
 round me, a scream from somewhere, and a chorus of 
 Arab yells from a distance, mixed with the crackling 
 of flames. 
 
 For a moment I could not see, then the fiery glare 
 appeared to be adjusted to my sight. All had happened 
 in a single moment ; now the whole place was lit by a 
 roaring column of fire from the big pit, raging up not 
 ten feet to our left and billowing out black smoke. 
 Papa and Ischaryar Beg were rushing up from behind 
 me, Mr. Wilbur had tight hold of my arm, as though 
 he feared I might sway over, and before us, along the 
 ledge, were my mother and Evelyn. They stood as 
 though petrified, plain in the light, the girl huddled on 
 one knee against the bank, her hand grasping a pro- 
 truding tree-root, her other arm clutching my mother 
 to her. 
 
 We came up, all of us, before they moved. My 
 mother's shoulders were hunched and her veiled head 
 was thrown back, the attitude of one astonished past 
 understanding. 
 
 " You have saved my life ! " she almost whispered
 
 How the Pit Took 399 
 
 it ; but her voice carried, hushed and insistent, through 
 the roar of the fire and the babel from the ravine. 
 " Allah sent you to save me you, Evelyn Effen' ! " 
 
 And it was only then I quite realised what had 
 broken the cinder-crust. 
 
 This is what I know, and all I choose to know. The 
 men said, afterwards, that the Bey must have been 
 killed by the impact on the cinders, before the fire 
 started forth. So they said. I have never asked any 
 one of the rights of it. Allah knows.
 
 Chapter XI 
 
 DUSK, AND A DAY TO BE 
 
 ACCIDENTS will happen, even in a country where Allah 
 ordains all. The chance death of a disgraced official 
 was not likely to cause much stir. Inquiry was made 
 by the authorities, what was once Halet Bey was buried, 
 and so it all ended. 
 
 That evening the Kurds set forth, to march by night 
 and shun the torrid day and so come to holy Kerbela 
 on the anniversary of Hosain's martyrdom. We rode 
 forth with them after the sun had dipped and left the 
 sky a welter of gold and orange and scarlet, pierced 
 with shafts of translucent green, to roof the bare plain, 
 the arid hills, and the arrowy river. 
 
 The Khanoum Effen' would have my flawless Zaza 
 for company to the last. We rode together, somewhat 
 apart from the rest of the cavalcade, the evening breeze 
 at our backs blowing what we said to the coffin-laden 
 mules and their muffled drivers, far ahead. Papa and 
 Ischaryar Beg, Evelyn and Harvey, followed some way 
 behind, the men talking together, the girl subdued 
 beyond her wont, both by the coming parting and the 
 shadow of the other night's tragedy. After them tailed 
 the baggage and servants. 
 
 It was getting near the point where we must return 
 to the Tel. Harvey rode up and tendered a bracelet 
 which the Khanoum Effen' had lost earlier in the day. 
 
 " Sulti stole it for me," he explained. " She favours 
 
 400
 
 401 
 
 me, Sulti. It makes an excuse for a few words with 
 you, Khanoum Effen'," he lowered his voice. " Kha- 
 noum, you knew all through that Halet had no accom- 
 plices." 
 
 " I knew he could have none in such a matter," she 
 replied. 
 
 *' You implied otherwise to me. But for which I 
 would have shot him whatever the consequences. If 
 you believe me." 
 
 " I know you speak the truth, Wilbur Effen'. It 
 may be I thought to save you for a better part. When 
 first I saw you I had some thought that there was a 
 great part waiting for you to fill. One has those strange 
 intuitions." 
 
 " Ah, when you saw me on the Cherub's head ? " he 
 returned. " A great part in Assyriology ? " 
 
 " Who knows ? And, remember, mine was the deed 
 that was at the root of all this matter, and mine it was 
 to redress ; to take full guilt, and to bear the retribu- 
 tion. And I call you to witness, both, that it is not 
 my own doing that I am alive this day." 
 
 " Allah had His intentions for you," replied the 
 American. 
 
 " He caused me to be saved by Evelyn Congreve's 
 daughter." Her voice was hushed, as though with 
 awe. 
 
 " So Allah ordered," he agreed. " Khanoum Effen', 
 does it not occur to you that perhaps He means you to 
 fill another part ? " 
 
 " What part can a woman, old and laden with guilt, 
 fill ? " she asked bitterly. 
 
 " The part of my mother ! " I exclaimed. " It is 
 too cruel that we cannot know one another well, now 
 that we have met, my mother." 
 
 " I think we know one another perfectly," she re- 
 plied, her tone one of joyful tenderness.
 
 402 Dusk, and a Day to be 
 
 " You will come back to me," I went on. " I cannot 
 live long without you, now I have known you." 
 
 " Please Allah, we will meet again," she replied. 
 " Never would I have burdened you, my child, with the 
 consciousness of deceiving your father, but since He 
 hath ordained it, who knows but He may give us meet- 
 ing again ? Alhamdu'lillah ! He is the All-knowing, 
 and the Compassionate. As good friends we will meet, 
 Inshallah, but I can never fill the part of mother to 
 you. I gave that up, for your own good, twenty years 
 ago." 
 
 The sadness in her tone struck a responsive chord in 
 my heart. I could understand it all. The years of 
 fierce abnegation, the readiness to sacrifice life and soul 
 for me. And I could make no return, no return at 
 all. Almost I would have given my soul just to afford 
 her some real proof of respect and affection, some 
 abiding source of future pride and joy. And I could 
 do nothing. 
 
 Harvey leant towards her a little. *' Rathia Khan, 
 Lady Jerningham, a mother's offices are needed now," 
 he said deliberately. " Your daughter can never meet 
 a man worthy of her, nor one more unworthy than I 
 am, yet she cannot meet one who worships her more 
 truly than I do. So I ask your good offices on my 
 behalf." 
 
 As he spoke I read every thought that went to the 
 making of that speech. My mother started and was 
 mute. 
 
 " I am rather abrupt, very clumsy," he proceeded 
 smoothly. " Only the shortness of the time will excuse 
 me. Lady Jerningham, are you disposed to say a 
 word on my behalf ? " 
 
 She found her voice, and it was the voice of one who 
 cannot believe what the ears hear. " You ask this, of 
 me ? " was all she could say.
 
 Dusk, and a Day to be 403 
 
 *' Of who else could I ask it ? Who has such right 
 as a mother to guide and guard her daughter's heart T 
 And I need your help, for once on a time I hurt your 
 daughter's pride so deeply that only her mother's efforts 
 can bridge the gulf that was opened between us. Will 
 you speak for me, Lady Jerningham ? " 
 
 How had the man learnt it that the supreme, the 
 most greedily prized privilege and joy of an Eastern 
 woman is to give her daughter to a chosen man ? If 
 Harvey Wilbur had been the worst of men otherwise 
 he should have had me and welcome to pay for the 
 cadence of my mother's voice as she replied : 
 
 " There is blood on my hands, Wilbur Effen*. Re- 
 member, and then do you ask me this again ? *' 
 
 " You forget, I know how Allah put that blood there, 
 Lady Jerningham. And I ask your intercession." 
 
 " Rathia, dare I speak ? " 
 
 There was that in her tone now that told me twenty 
 years of bitter repression, of fierce self-abnegation, of 
 stoically endured heart-hunger, were paid for in that 
 crowning, undreamed-of moment. 
 
 " You are my mother," I said, looking past her at 
 Harvey. 
 
 " Then, Rathia, my daughter, I had thoughts when I 
 saw you twain lifted, enthroned, on the marble Genie. 
 My dear, you are proud, but I can read your heart. If 
 you did not choose to confide in me I could keep silence 
 too, but if I may speak " 
 
 ' You are my mother," I repeated, looking down 
 now. 
 
 " Then, Rathia," her voice was triumphant. " Here 
 is the man of all men whom I have marked for you. 
 Rathia. can I say more ? " 
 
 ** I will obey my mother," I replied. 
 
 Harvey placed his hand on her bridle. I reached mjr 
 own and she joined them.
 
 404 Dusk, and a Day to be 
 
 " The day is dying, and may I die like it in this utter 
 happiness ! " she said. 
 
 " The spent day is past, and a new one is to start 
 for all of us," replied Harvey. 
 
 FINIS 
 
 Primed in Great Britain by Haiell, Watton <* Ftay, Ld., 
 London and Aylenbury.