he at
least was cognisant of preparations made to begin them. Germany is
still hostile to all British or American missions, all Anglo-Saxon
influence in Turkey.

"No; I did not send Herr Wilner's papers to Berlin; and the events of
the last fifteen years have demonstrated that I was right in
withholding them."

His wife nodded, laid aside her work basket, and rose.

"Come, Ruhannah," she said with decision; "put everything back into
the wonder-box."

And, stooping, she lifted and laid away in it the scowling, menacing
Yellow Devil.

* * * * *

And so, every month or two, the wonder-box was opened for the child to
play with, the same story told, extracts from the diary read; but
these ceremonies, after a while, began to recur at lengthening
intervals as the years passed and the child grew older.

And finally it was left to her to open the box when she desired, and
to read for herself the pencilled translation of the diary, which her
father had made during some of the idle and trying moments of his
isolated and restricted life. And, when she had been going to school
for some years, other and more vivid interests replaced her dolls and
her wonder-box; but not her beloved case of water-colours and crayon
pencils.

CHAPTER II

BROOKHOLLOW

The mother, shading the candle with her work-worn hand, looked down at
the child in silence. The subdued light fell on a freckled cheek where
dark lashes rested, on a slim neck and thin shoulders framed by a mass
of short, curly chestnut hair.

Though it was still dark, the mill whistle was blowing for six
o'clock. Like a goblin horn it sounded ominously through Ruhannah's
dream. She stirred in her sleep; her mother stole across the room,
closed the window, and went away carrying the candle with her.

At seven the whistle blew again; the child turned over and unclosed
her eyes. A brassy light glimmered between leafless apple branches
outside her window. Through the frosty radiance of sunrise a blue jay
screamed.

Ruhannah cuddled deeper among the blankets and buried the tip of her
chilly nose. But the grey eyes remained wide open and, under the faded
quilt, her little ears were listening intently.

Presently from the floor below came the expected summons:

"Ruhannah!"

"Oh, _please_, mother!"

"It's after seven----"

"I know: I'll be ready in time!"

"It's after seven, Rue!"

"I'm so cold, mother dear!"

"I c