t matter now what boat I took. Any boatman was eager
enough to take me for a few cents. As I sat in the boat, every stroke of
the oars bringing me nearer to the shore and to what I felt was
inevitable captivity, a great bitterness swelled my heart. I was tired,
utterly tired of all the dangers and trials I had been going through for
the last months. From depression I sank into despair and out of despair
came, strange to say, a great serenity, the serenity of despair.

On the quay I ran into Hassan Bey, commandant of the police, who was
superintending the embarkation of refugees. I knew him and he knew me.
Half an hour later I was in police headquarters under examination by
Hassan Bey. I was desperate, and answered him recklessly. A seasick man
is indifferent to shipwreck. This was the substance of our
conversation:--

"How did you get aboard the ship?"

"In a boat with some refugees. A woman hid me with her skirts."

"So you were trying to escape, were you?"

"If I had been, I shouldn't have come back."

"Then what did you do on the cruiser?"

"I went to talk to the captain, who is a friend of mine. My life is in
danger. Fewzi Bey is after me, and I wanted _my friends in America_ to
know how justice is done in Palestine."

"Who are your friends in America?"

"Men who could break you in a minute."

"Do you know to whom you are speaking?"

"Yes, Hassan Bey. I am sick of persecution. I wish you would hang me
with your own hands as you hanged the young Christian; my friends would
have your life for mine."

I wonder now how I dared to speak to him in this manner. But the bluff
carried. Hassan Bey looked at me curiously for a moment--then smiled
and offered me a cigarette, assuring me that he believed me a loyal
citizen, and declaring he felt deeply hurt that I had not come to him
for permission to visit the cruiser. We parted with a profusion of
Eastern compliments, and that evening I started back to Zicron-Jacob.

[ILLUSTRATION: THE AUTHOR'S SISTER ON HER HORSE TAYAR]

CHAPTER XI

ESCAPE

The failure of my attempt to leave the country only sharpened my desire
to make another trial. The danger of the enterprise tended to reconcile
me to deserting my family and comrades and seeking safety for myself. As
I racked my brain for a promising plan, a letter came from my sister in
Beirut with two pieces of news which were responsible for my final
escape. The American College was shortly to close for the s