ieve."

"Yes, my father said so."

"A certain Herr Conrad Wilner, was it not?"

"Yes. How did you hear of him, Colonel Izzet?"

"It was known in Stamboul. He perished by mistake, I believe--at
Gallipoli."

"Yes; my father said that Herr Wilner was the only man hurt. He went
out all alone into the mob and began to cut them with his riding whip.
My father tried to save him, but they killed Herr Wilner with
stones."

"Exactly." He spread his beautifully jewelled hands deprecatingly and
seemed greatly grieved.

"And Herr Wilner's--property?" he inquired. "Did you ever hear what
became of it?"

"Oh, yes," I said. "My father took charge of it."

"Oh! It was supposed at the time that all of Herr Wilner's personal
property was destroyed when the school and compound burned. Do you
happen to know just what was saved, mademoiselle?"

Of course I immediately thought of the bronze demon, the box of
instruments, and the photographs and papers at home with which I used
to play as a child. I remembered my father had said that these things
were taken on board the _Oneida_ when he, my mother, and I were
rescued by marines and sailors from our guard vessel which came
through the Bosporus to the Black Sea, and which escorted us to the
_Oneida_. And I was just going to tell this to Izzet Bey when I also
remembered what the Princess had just told me about giving any
information to Ahmed Pasha. So I merely opened my eyes very innocently
and gazed at Colonel Izzet and shook my head as though I did not
understand his question.

The next instant the Princess came in to see what I was about so long,
and she looked at Izzet Bey with a funny sort of smile, as though she
had surprised him in mischief and was not angry, only amused. And when
Colonel Izzet bowed, I saw how red his face had grown--as red as his
fez.

The Princess laughed and said in French: "That is the difference
between professional and amateur--between Nizam and Redif--between
Ahmed Pasha and our esteemed but very youthful attache--who has much
yet to learn about that endless war called Peace!"

I didn't know what she meant, but Izzet Bey turned a bright scarlet,
bowed again, and returned to the smoking room.

And that night, while Suzanne was unhooking me, Princess Naia came
into my bedroom and asked me some questions, and I told her about the
box of instruments and the diary, and the slippery linen papers
covered with drawings and German writing, with which I u