Itwassnowingheavily，whichwasapieceofluckforus。PooroldPeterhadnogreatcoat，sowewentintoaJew’sshopandboughtaready—madeabomination，whichlookedasifitmighthavebeenmeantforadissentingparson。Itwasnogoodsavingmymoneywhenthefuturewassoblack。Thesnowmadethestreetsdeserted，andweturneddownthelonglanewhichledtoRatchikferry，andfounditperfectlyquiet。IdonotthinkwemetasoultillwegottoKuprasso’sshop。
　　Wewalkedstraightthroughthecafe，whichwasempty，anddownthedarkpassage，tillwewerestoppedbythegardendoor。I
　　knockedanditswungopen。Therewasthebleakyard，nowpuddledwithsnow，andablazeoflightfromthepavilionattheotherend。
　　Therewasascrapingoffiddles，too，andthesoundofhumantalk。
　　Wepaidthenegroatthedoor，andpassedfromthebitterafternoonintoagarishsaloon。
　　Therewerefortyorfiftypeoplethere，drinkingcoffeeandsiropsandfillingtheairwiththefumesoflatakia。MostofthemwereTurksinEuropeanclothesandthefez，butthereweresomeGermanofficersandwhatlookedlikeGermancivilians—ArmyServiceCorpsclerks，probably，andmechanicsfromtheArsenal。Awomanincheapfinerywastinklingatthepiano，andtherewereseveralshrillfemaleswiththeofficers。PeterandIsatdownmodestlyinthenearestcorner，whereoldKuprassosawusandsentuscoffee。
　　AgirlwholookedlikeaJewesscameovertousandtalkedFrench，butIshookmyheadandshewentoffagain。
　　Presentlyagirlcameonthestageanddanced，asillyaffair，allaclashingoftambourinesandwriggling。IhaveseennativewomendothesamethingbetterinaMozambiquekraal。AnothersangaGermansong，asimple，sentimentalthingaboutgoldenhairandrainbows，andtheGermanspresentapplauded。Theplacewassotinsellyandcommonthat，comingtoitfromweeksofroughtravelling，itmademeimpatient。Iforgotthat，whilefortheothersitmightbeavulgarlittledancing—hall，forusitwasasperilousasabrigands’den。
　　Peterdidnotsharemymood。Hewasquiteinterestedinit，ashewasinterestedineverythingnew。Hehadageniusforlivinginthemoment。
　　Iremembertherewasadrop—sceneonwhichwasdaubedabluelakewithverygreenhillsinthedistance。Asthetobaccosmokegrewthickerandthefiddleswentonsquealing，thistawdrypicturebegantomesmerizeme。Iseemedtobelookingoutofawindowatalovelysummerlandscapewheretherewerenowarsordanger。I
　　seemedtofeelthewarmsunandtosmellthefragranceofblossomfromtheislands。AndthenIbecameawarethataqueerscenthadstolenintotheatmosphere。
　　Therewerebraziersburningatbothendstowarmtheroom，andthethinsmokefromthesesmeltlikeincense。Somebodyhadbeenputtingapowderintheflames，forsuddenlytheplacebecameveryquiet。Thefiddlesstillsounded，butfarawaylikeanecho。Thelightswentdown，allbutacircleonthestage，andintothatcirclesteppedmyenemyoftheskincap。
　　Hehadthreeotherswithhim。Iheardawhisperbehindme，andthewordswerethosewhichKuprassohadusedthedaybefore。
　　ThesebedlamiteswerecalledtheCompanionsoftheRosyHours，andKuprassohadpromisedgreatdancing。
　　Ihopedtogoodnesstheywouldnotseeus，fortheyhadfairlygivenmethehorrors。Peterfeltthesame，andwebothmadeourselvesverysmallinthatdarkcorner。Butthenewcomershadnoeyesforus。
　　Inatwinklingthepavilionchangedfromacommonsaloon，whichmighthavebeeninChicagoorParis，toaplaceofmystery—
　　yes，andofbeauty。ItbecametheGarden—HouseofSulimantheRed，whoeverthatsportsmanmayhavebeen。Sandyhadsaidthattheendsoftheearthconvergedthere，andhehadbeenright。Ilostallconsciousnessofmyneighbours—stoutGerman，frock—coatedTurk，frowsyJewess—andsawonlystrangefiguresleapinginacircleoflight，figuresthatcameoutofthedeepestdarknesstomakeabigmagic。
　　Theleaderflungsomestuffintothebrazier，andagreatfanofbluelightflaredup。Hewasweavingcircles，andhewassingingsomethingshrillandhigh，whilsthiscompanionsmadeachoruswiththeirdeepmonotone。Ican’ttellyouwhatthedancewas。I
　　hadseentheRussianballetjustbeforethewar，andoneofthemeninitremindedmeofthisman。Butthedancingwastheleastpartofit。Itwasneithersoundnormovementnorscentthatwroughtthespell，butsomethingfarmorepotent。InaninstantIfoundmyselfreftawayfromthepresentwithitsdulldangers，andlookingataworldallyoungandfreshandbeautiful。Thegaudydrop—scenehadvanished。ItwasawindowIwaslookingfrom，andIwasgazingatthefinestlandscapeonearth，litbythepurecleanlightofmorning。
　　Itseemedtobepartoftheveld，butlikenoveldIhadeverseen。
　　Itwaswiderandwilderandmoregracious。Indeed，Iwaslookingatmyfirstyouth。Iwasfeelingthekindofimmortallight—
　　heartednesswhichonlyaboyknowsinthedawningofhisdays。I
　　hadnolongeranyfearofthesemagic—makers。Theywerekindlywizards，whohadbroughtmeintofairyland。
　　Thenslowlyfromthesilencetheredistilleddropsofmusic。Theycamelikewaterfallingalongwayintoacup，eachtheessentialqualityofpuresound。We，withourelaborateharmonies，haveforgottenthecharmofsinglenotes。TheAfricannativesknowit，andIrememberalearnedmanoncetellingmethattheGreekshadthesameart。Thosesilverbellsbrokeoutofinfinitespace，soexquisiteandperfectthatnomortalwordscouldhavebeenfittedtothem。Thatwasthemusic，Iexpect，thatthemorningstarsmadewhentheysangtogether。
　　Slowly，veryslowly，itchanged。Theglowpassedfrombluetopurple，andthentoanangryred。Bitbybitthenotesspuntogethertilltheyhadmadeaharmony—afierce，restlessharmony。AndI
　　wasconsciousagainoftheskin—claddancersbeckoningoutoftheircircle。
　　Therewasnomistakeaboutthemeaningnow。Allthedaintinessandyouthhadfled，andpassionwasbeatingtheair—terrible，savagepassion，whichbelongedneithertodaynornight，lifenordeath，buttothehalf—worldbetweenthem。Isuddenlyfeltthedancersasmonstrous，inhuman，devilish。Thethickscentsthatfloatedfromthebrazierseemedtohaveatangofnew—shedblood。
　　Criesbrokefromthehearers—criesofangerandlustandterror。I
　　heardawomansob，andPeter，whoisastoughasanymortal，tooktightholdofmyarm。
　　InowrealizedthattheseCompanionsoftheRosyHoursweretheonlythingintheworldtofear。RastaandStummseemedfeeblesimpletonsbycontrast。ThewindowIhadbeenlookingoutofwaschangedtoaprisonwall—Icouldseethemortarbetweenthemassiveblocks。Inasecondthesedevilswouldbesmellingouttheirenemieslikesomefoulwitch—doctors。Ifelttheburningeyesoftheirleaderlookingformeinthegloom。Peterwasprayingaudiblybesideme，andIcouldhavechokedhim。Hisinfernalchatterwouldrevealus，foritseemedtomethattherewasnooneintheplaceexceptusandthemagic—workers。
　　Thensuddenlythespellwasbroken。Thedoorwasflungopenandagreatgustoficywindswirledthroughthehall，drivingcloudsofashesfromthebraziers。Iheardloudvoiceswithout，andahubbubbeganinside。Foramomentitwasquitedark，andthensomeonelitoneoftheflarelampsbythestage。Itrevealednothingbutthecommonsqualorofalowsaloon—whitefaces，sleepyeyes，andfrowsyheads。Thedrop—piecewasthereinallitstawdriness。
　　TheCompanionsoftheRosyHourshadgone。Butatthedoorstoodmeninuniform，IheardaGermanalongwayoffmurmur，’Enver’sbodyguards，’andIheardhimdistinctly;for，thoughI
　　couldnotseeclearly，myhearingwasdesperatelyacute。Thatisoftenthewaywhenyousuddenlycomeoutofaswoon。
　　Theplaceemptiedlikemagic。TurkandGermantumbledovereachother，whileKuprassowailedandwept。Nooneseemedtostopthem，andthenIsawthereason。ThoseGuardshadcomeforus。ThismustbeStummatlast。Theauthoritieshadtrackedusdown，anditwasallupwithPeterandme。
　　Asuddenrevulsionleavesamanwithalowvitality。Ididn’tseemtocaregreatly。Weweredone，andtherewasanendofit。ItwasKismet，theactofGod，andtherewasnothingforitbuttosubmit。Ihadn’taflickerofathoughtofescapeorresistance。Thegamewasutterlyandabsolutelyover。
　　AmanwhoseemedtobeasergeantpointedtousandsaidsomethingtoKuprasso，whonodded。Wegotheavilytoourfeetandstumbledtowardsthem。Withoneoneachsideofuswecrossedtheyard，walkedthroughthedarkpassageandtheemptyshop，andoutintothesnowystreet。Therewasaclosedcarriagewaitingwhichtheymotionedustogetinto。ItlookedexactlyliketheBlackMaria。
　　Bothofussatstill，liketruantschoolboys，withourhandsonourknees。Ididn’tknowwhereIwasgoingandIdidn’tcare。Weseemedtoberumblingupthehill，andthenIcaughttheglareoflightedstreets。
　　’Thisistheendofit，Peter，’Isaid。
　　’_Ja，Cornelis，’hereplied，andthatwasallourtalk。
　　Byandby—hourslateritseemed—westopped。Someoneopenedthedoorandwegotout，tofindourselvesinacourtyardwithahugedarkbuildingaround。Theprison，Iguessed，andI
　　wonderediftheywouldgiveusblankets，foritwasperishingcold。
　　Weenteredadoor，andfoundourselvesinabigstonehall。Itwasquitewarm，whichmadememorehopefulaboutourcells。A
　　maninsomekindofuniformpointedtothestaircase，upwhichweploddedwearily。Mymindwastooblanktotakeclearimpressions，orinanywaytoforecastthefuture。Anotherwardermetusandtookusdownapassagetillwehaltedatadoor。Hestoodasideandmotionedustoenter。
　　Iguessedthatthiswasthegovernor’sroom，andweshouldbeputthroughourfirstexamination。Myheadwastoostupidtothink，andImadeupmymindtokeepperfectlymum。Yes，eveniftheytriedthumbscrews。Ihadnokindofstory，butIresolvednottogiveanythingaway。AsIturnedthehandleIwonderedidlywhatkindofsallowTurkorbulging—neckedGermanweshouldfindinside。
　　Itwasapleasantroom，withapolishedwoodfloorandabigfireburningonthehearth。Besidethefireamanlayonacouch，withalittletabledrawnupbesidehim。OnthattablewasasmallglassofmilkandanumberofPatiencecardsspreadinrows。
　　Istaredblanklyatthespectacle，tillIsawasecondfigure。Itwasthemanintheskin—cap，theleaderofthedancingmaniacs。BothPeterandIbackedsharplyatthesightandthenstoodstockstill。
　　Forthedancercrossedtheroomintwostridesandgrippedbothofmyhands。
　　’Dick，oldman，’hecried，’I’mmostawfullygladtoseeyouagain！’
　　CHAPTERTWELVE
　　FourMissionariesSeeLightintheirMissionAspasmofincredulity，avastrelief，andthatsharpjoywhichcomesofreactionchasedeachotheracrossmymind。Ihadcomesuddenlyoutofveryblackwatersintoanunbelievablecalm。I
　　droppedintothenearestchairandtriedtograpplewithsomethingfarbeyondwords。
　　’Sandy，’Isaid，assoonasIgotmybreath，’you’reanincarnatedevil。You’vegivenPeterandmethefrightofourlives。’
　　’Itwastheonlyway，Dick。IfIhadn’tcomemewinglikeatom—catatyourheelsyesterday，Rastawouldhavehadyoulongbeforeyougottoyourhotel。Youtwohavegivenmeaprettyanxioustime，andittooksomedoingtogetyousafehere。However，thatisallovernow。Makeyourselvesathome，mychildren。’
　　’Over！’Icriedincredulously，formywitswerestillwool—
　　gathering。’Whatplaceisthis？’
　　’Youmaycallitmyhumblehome’—itwasBlenkiron’ssleekvoicethatspoke。’We’vebeenpreparingforyou，Major，butitwasonlyyesterdayIheardofyourfriend。’
　　IintroducedPeter。
　　’MrPienaar，’saidBlenkiron，’pleasedtomeetyou。Well，asIwasobserving，you’resafeenoughhere，butyou’vecutitmightyfine。
　　Officially，aDutchmancalledBrandtwastobearrestedthisafternoonandhandedovertotheGermanauthorities。WhenGermanybeginstotroubleaboutthatDutchmanshewillfinddifficultyingettingthebody;butsucharethelanguidwaysofanOrientaldespotism。MeantimetheDutchmanwillbenomore。Hewillhaveceaseduponthemidnightwithoutpain，asyourpoetsings。’
　　’ButIdon’tunderstand，’Istammered。’Whoarrestedus？’
　　’Mymen，’saidSandy。’Wehaveabitofagrafthere，anditwasn’tdifficulttomanageit。OldMoellendorffwillbenosingafterthebusinesstomorrow，buthewillfindthemysterytoodeepforhim。ThatistheadvantageofaGovernmentrunbyapackofadventurers。But，byJove，Dick，wehadn’tanytimetospare。ifRastahadgotyou，ortheGermanshadhadthejobofliftingyou，yourgoosewouldhavebeenjollywellcooked。Ihadsomeunquiethoursthismorning。’
　　Thethingwastoodeepforme。IlookedatBlenkiron，shufflinghisPatiencecardswithhisoldsleepysmile，andSandy，dressedlikesomebanditinmelodrama，hisleanfaceasbrownasanut，hisbarearmsalltattooedwithcrimsonrings，andthefoxpeltdrawntightoverbrowandears。Itwasstillanightmareworld，butthedreamwasgettingpleasanter。Petersaidnotaword，butIcouldseehiseyesheavywithhisownthoughts。
　　Blenkironhovehimselffromthesofaandwaddledtoacupboard。
　　’Youboysmustbehungry，’hesaid。’Myduo—denumhasbeengivingmehellasusual，andIdon’teatnomorethanasquirrel。ButIlaidinsomestores，forIguessedyouwouldwanttostokeupsomeafteryourtravels。’
　　HebroughtoutacoupleofStrassburgpies，acheese，acoldchicken，aloaf，andthreebottlesofchampagne。
　　’Fizz，’saidSandyrapturously。’AndadryHeidsiecktoo！We’reinluck，Dick，oldman。’
　　Ineverateamorewelcomemeal，forwehadstarvedinthatdirtyhotel。ButIhadstilltheoldfeelingofthehunted，andbeforeIbeganIaskedaboutthedoor。
　　’That’sallright，’saidSandy。’Myfellowsareonthestairandatthegate。Ifthe_Metrebareinpossession，youmaybetthatotherpeoplewillkeepoff。Yourpastisblottedout，cleanvanishedaway，andyoubegintomorrowmorningwithanewsheet。Blenkiron’sthemanyou’vegottothankforthat。Hewasprettycertainyou’dgethere，buthewasalsocertainthatyou’darriveinahurrywithagoodmanyinquirersbehindyou。Sohearrangedthatyoushouldleakawayandstartfresh。’
　　’YournameisRichardHanau，’Blenkironsaid，’borninCleveland，Ohio，ofGermanparentageonbothsides。Oneofourbrightestmining—
　　engineers，andtheappleofGuggenheim’seye。YouarrivedthisafternoonfromConstanza，andImetyouatthepacket。
　　Theclothesforthepartareinyourbedroomnextdoor。ButIguessallthatcanwait，forI’manxioustogettobusiness。We’renothereonajoy—ride，Major，soIreckonwe’llleaveoutthedime—noveladventures。I’mjustdyingtohearthem，butthey’llkeep。Iwanttoknowhowourmutualinquirieshaveprospered。’
　　HegavePeterandmecigars，andwesatourselvesinarmchairsinfrontoftheblaze。Sandysquattedcross—leggedonthehearthrugandlitafouloldbriarpipe，whichheextricatedfromsomepouchamonghisskins。Andsobeganthatconversationwhichhadneverbeenoutofmythoughtsforfourhecticweeks。
　　’IfIpresumetobegin，’saidBlenkiron，’it’sbecauseIreckonmystoryistheshortest。Ihavetoconfesstoyou，gentlemen，thatI
　　havefailed。’
　　Hedrewdownthecornersofhismouthtillhelookedacrossbetweenamusic—hallcomedianandasickchild。
　　’Ifyouwerelookingforsomethingintherootofthehedge，youwouldn’twanttoscourtheroadinahigh—speedautomobile。Andstilllesswouldyouwanttogetabird’s—eyeviewinanaeroplane。
　　Thatparableaboutfitsmycase。IhavebeeninthecloudsandI’vebeenscorchingonthepikes，butwhatIwaswantingwasintheditchallthetime，andInaturallymissedit……Ihadthewrongstunt，Major。Iwastoohighupandrefined。I’vebeenprocessingthroughEuropelikeBarnum’sCircus，andlivingwithgeneralsandtransparencies。NotthatIhaven’tpickedupalotofnoos，andgotsomeveryinterestingsidelightsonhighpolitics。ButthethingI
　　wasafterwasn’ttobefoundonmybeat，forthosethatknewitweren’tgoingtotell。Inthatkindofsocietytheydon’tgetdrunkandblabaftertheirtenthcocktail。SoIguessI’venocontributiontomaketoquietingSirWalterBullivant’smind，exceptthathe’sdeadright。Yes，Sir，hehashitthespotandrungthebell。Thereisamightymiracle—workingpropositionbeingfloatedintheseparts，butthepromotersarekeepingittothemselves。Theyaren’ttakinginmorethantheycanhelpontheground—floor。’
　　Blenkironstoppedtolightafreshcigar。HewasleanerthanwhenheleftLondonandtherewerepouchesbelowhiseyes。I
　　fancyhisjourneyhadnotbeenasfur—linedashemadeout。
　　’I’vefoundoutonething，andthatis，thatthelastdreamGermanywillpartwithisthecontroloftheNearEast。Thatiswhatyourstatesmendon’tfigureenoughon。She’llgiveupBelgiumandAlsace—LorraineandPoland，butbyGod！she’llnevergiveuptheroadtoMesopotamiatillyouhaveherbythethroatandmakeherdropit。SirWalterisaprettybright—eyedcitizen，andheseesitrightenough。Iftheworsthappens，KaiserwillflingoverboardalotofballastinEurope，anditwilllooklikeabigvictoryfortheAllies，buthewon’tbebeatenifhehastheroadtotheEastsafe。
　　Germany’slikeascorpion:hersting’sinhertail，andthattailstretcheswaydownintoAsia。
　　’Igotthatclear，andIalsomadeoutthatitwasn’tgoingtobedeadeasyforhertokeepthattailhealthy。Turkey’sabitofananxiety，asyou’llsoondiscover。ButGermanythinksshecanmanageit，andIwon’tsayshecan’t。Itdependsonthehandsheholds，andshereckonsitagoodone。Itriedtofindout，buttheygavemenothingbuteyewash。Ihadtopretendtobesatisfied，forthepositionofJohnS。wasn’tsostrongastoallowhimtotakeliberties。IfIaskedoneofthehighbrowshelookedwiseandspokeofthemightofGermanarmsandGermanorganizationandGermanstaff—work。Iusedtonodmyheadandgetenthusiasticaboutthesestunts，butitwasallsoftsoap。Shehasatrickinhand—thatmuchIknow，butI’mdarnedifIcanputanametoit。IpraytoGodyouboyshavebeencleverer。’
　　Histonewasquitemelancholy，andIwasmeanenoughtofeelratherglad。Hehadbeentheprofessionalwiththebestchance。Itwouldbeagoodjokeiftheamateursucceededwheretheexpertfailed。
　　IlookedatSandy。Hefilledhispipeagain，andpushedbackhisskincapfromhisbrows。Whatwithhislongdishevelledhair，hishigh—bonedface，andstainedeyebrowshehadtheappearanceofsomemadmullah。
　　’IwentstraighttoSmyrna，’hesaid。’Itwasn’tdifficult，foryouseeIhadlaiddownagoodmanylinesinformertravels。IreachedthetownasaGreekmoney—lenderfromtheFayum，butIhadfriendsthereIcouldcounton，andthesameeveningIwasaTurkishgipsy，amemberofthemostfamousfraternityinWesternAsia。Ihadlongbeenamember，andI’mblood—brotherofthechiefboss，soIsteppedintothepartreadymade。ButIfoundoutthattheCompanyoftheRosyHourswasnotwhatIhadknownitin1910。ThenithadbeenallfortheYoungTurksandreform;nowithankeredaftertheoldregimeandwasthelasthopeoftheOrthodox。
　　IthadnouseforEnverandhisfriends，anditdidnotregardwithpleasurethe_beaux_yeuxoftheTeuton。ItstoodforIslamandtheoldways，andmightbedescribedasaConservative—
　　Nationalistcaucus。Butitwasuncommonpowerfulintheprovinces，andEnverandTalaatdaren’tmeddlewithit。Thedangerousthingaboutitwasthatitsaidnothingandapparentlydidnothing。Itjustbideditstimeandtooknotes。
　　’Youcanimaginethatthiswastheverykindofcrowdformypurpose。Iknewofolditslittleways，forwithallitsorthodoxyitdabbledagooddealinmagic，andowedhalfitspowertoitsatmosphereoftheuncanny。TheCompanionscoulddancetheheartoutoftheordinaryTurk。Yousawabitofoneofourdancesthisafternoon，Dick—prettygood，wasn’tit？Theycouldgoanywhere，andnoquestionsasked。Theyknewwhattheordinarymanwasthinking，fortheywerethebestintelligencedepartmentintheOttomanEmpire—farbetterthanEnver’s_Khafiyeh。Andtheywerepopular，too，fortheyhadneverbowedthekneetothe_Nemseh—
　　theGermanswhoaresqueezingoutthelife—bloodoftheOsmanlifortheirownends。ItwouldhavebeenasmuchasthelifeoftheCommitteeoritsGermanmasterswasworthtolayahandonus，forweclungtogetherlikeleechesandwewerenotinthehabitofstickingattrifles。
　　’Well，youmayimagineitwasn’tdifficultformetomovewhereIwanted。Mydressandthepass—wordfrankedmeanywhere。I
　　travelledfromSmyrnabythenewrailwaytoPandermaontheMarmora，andgottherejustbeforeChristmas。ThatwasafterAnzacandSuvlahadbeenevacuated，butIcouldhearthegunsgoinghardatCapeHelles。FromPandermaIstartedtocrosstoThraceinacoastingsteamer。Andthereanuncommonfunnythinghappened—Igottorpedoed。
　　’ItmusthavebeenaboutthelasteffortofaBritishsubmarineinthosewaters。Butshegotusallright。Shegaveustenminutestotaketotheboats，andthensenttheblightedoldpacketandafinecargoof6—inchshellstothebottom。Thereweren’tmanypassengers，soitwaseasyenoughtogetashoreintheship’sboats。Thesubmarinesatonthesurfacewatchingus，aswewailedandhowledinthetrueOrientalway，andIsawthecaptainquitecloseintheconning—tower。Whodoyouthinkitwas？TommyElliot，wholivesontheothersideofthehillfrommeathome。
　　’IgaveTommythesurpriseofhislife。Aswebumpedpasthim，Istartedthe"FlowersoftheForest"—theoldversion—ontheantiquestringedinstrumentIcarried，andIsangthewordsveryplain。Tommy’seyesbulgedoutofhishead，andheshoutedatmeinEnglishtoknowwhothedevilIwas。IrepliedinthebroadestScots，whichnomaninthesubmarineorinourboatcouldhaveunderstoodawordof。"MaisterTammy，"Icried，"whatforwadyeskailadacenttinklerladintilacauldsea？I’llgieyeyourkailthroughthereekforthisploythenexttimeIforgaitherwi’yeonthetapo’Caerdon。"
　　’Tommyspottedmeinasecond。Helaughedtillhecried，andaswemovedoffshoutedtomeinthesamelanguageto"pitastootherttaeasteybrae"。IhopetoHeavenhehadthesensenottotellmyfather，ortheoldmanwillhavehadafit。Henevermuchapprovedofmywanderings，andthoughtIwassafelyanchoredinthebattalion。
　　’Well，tomakealongstoryshort，IgottoConstantinople，andprettysoonfoundtouchwithBlenkiron。Therestyouknow。
　　Andnowforbusiness。Ihavebeenfairlylucky—butnomore，forI
　　haven’tgottothebottomofthethingnoranythinglikeit。ButI’vesolvedthefirstofHarryBullivant’sriddles。Iknowthemeaningof_Kasredin。
　　’SirWalterwasright，asBlenkironhastoldus。There’sagreatstirringinIslam，somethingmovingonthefaceofthewaters。Theymakenosecretofit。Thosereligiousrevivalscomeincycles，andonewasdueaboutnow。Andtheyarequiteclearaboutthedetails。
　　AseerhasarisenofthebloodoftheProphet，whowillrestoretheKhalifatetoitsoldgloriesandIslamtoitsoldpurity。HissayingsareeverywhereintheMoslemworld。Alltheorthodoxbelievershavethembyheart。Thatiswhytheyareenduringgrindingpovertyandpreposteroustaxation，andthatiswhytheiryoungmenarerollinguptothearmiesanddyingwithoutcomplaintinGallipoliandTranscaucasia。Theybelievetheyareontheeveofagreatdeliverance。
　　’NowthefirstthingIfoundoutwasthattheYoungTurkshadnothingtodowiththis。Theyareunpopularandunorthodox，andnotrueTurks。ButGermanyhas。How，Idon’tknow，butIcouldseequiteplainlythatinsomesubtlewayGermanywasregardedasacollaboratorinthemovement。Itisthatbeliefthatiskeepingthepresentregimegoing。TheordinaryTurkloathestheCommittee，buthehassomequeerpervertedexpectationfromGermany。ItisnotacaseofEnverandtherestcarryingontheirshoulderstheunpopularTeuton;itisacaseoftheTeutoncarryingtheunpopularCommittee。AndGermany’sgraftisjustthisandnothingmore—
　　thatshehassomehandinthecomingofthenewdeliverer。
　　’Theytalkaboutthethingquiteopenly。Itiscalledthe_Kaaba—i—hurriyeh，thePalladiumofLiberty。TheprophethimselfisknownasZimrud—"theEmerald"—andhisfourministersarecalledalsoafterjewels—Sapphire，Ruby，Pearl，andTopaz。YouwillheartheirnamesasofteninthetalkofthetownsandvillagesasyouwillhearthenamesofgeneralsinEngland。ButnooneknewwhereZimrudwasorwhenhewouldrevealhimself，thougheveryweekcamehismessagestothefaithful。AllthatIcouldlearnwasthatheandhisfollowerswerecomingfromtheWest。
　　’Youwillsay，whatabout_Kasredin？Thatpuzzledmedreadfully，fornooneusedthephrase。TheHomeoftheSpirit！Itisanobviouscliche，justasinEnglandsomenewsectmightcallitselftheChurchofChrist。Onlynooneseemedtouseit。
　　’ButbyandbyIdiscoveredthattherewasaninnerandanoutercircleinthismystery。Everycreedhasanesotericsidewhichiskeptfromthecommonherd。IstruckthissideinConstantinople。NowthereisaveryfamousTurkish_shakacalled_Kasredin，oneofthoseoldhalf—comicmiracleplayswithanallegoricalmeaningwhichtheycall_orta_oyun，andwhichtakeaweektoread。Thattaletellsofthecomingofaprophet，andIfoundthattheselectofthefaithspokeofthenewrevelationintermsofit。ThecuriousthingisthatinthattaletheprophetisaidedbyoneofthefewwomenwhoplaymuchpartinthehagiologyofIslam。Thatisthepointofthetale，anditispartlyajest，butmainlyareligiousmystery。Theprophet，too，isnotcalledEmerald。’
　　’Iknow，’Isaid;’heiscalledGreenmantle。’
　　Sandyscrambledtohisfeet，lettinghispipedropinthefireplace。
　　’Nowhowonearthdidyoufindoutthat？’hecried。
　　ThenItoldthemofStummandGaudianandthewhisperedwordsIhadnotbeenmeanttohear。Blenkironwasgivingmethebenefitofasteadystare，unusualfromonewhoseemedalwaystohavehiseyesabstracted，andSandyhadtakentorangingupanddowntheroom。
　　’Germany’sintheheartoftheplan。ThatiswhatIalwaysthought。Ifwe’retofindthe_Kaaba—i—hurriyehitisnogoodfossickingamongtheCommitteeorintheTurkishprovinces。Thesecret’sinGermany。Dick，youshouldnothavecrossedtheDanube。’
　　’That’swhatIhalffeared，’Isaid。’Butontheotherhanditisobviousthatthethingmustcomeeast，andsoonerratherthanlater。
　　Itakeittheycan’taffordtodelaytoolongbeforetheydeliverthegoods。Ifwecanstickitoutherewemusthitthetrail……I’vegotanotherbitofevidence。IhavesolvedHarryBullivant’sthirdpuzzle。’
　　Sandy’seyeswereverybrightandIhadanaudienceonwires。
　　’Didyousaythatinthetaleof_Kasredinawomanistheallyoftheprophet？’
　　’Yes，’saidSandy;’whatofthat？’
　　’OnlythatthesamethingistrueofGreenmantle。Icangiveyouhername。’
　　IfetchedapieceofpaperandapencilfromBlenkiron’sdeskandhandedittoSandy。
　　’WritedownHarryBullivant’sthirdword。’
　　Hepromptlywrotedown’_v。_I。’
　　ThenItoldthemoftheothernameStummandGaudianhadspoken。ItoldofmydiscoveryasIlayinthewoodman’scottage。
　　’The"I"isnottheletterofthealphabet，butthenumeral。ThenameisVonEinem—HildavonEinem。’
　　’GoodoldHarry，’saidSandysoftly。’Hewasadashedcleverchap。HildavonEinem？Whoandwhereisshe？forifwefindherwehavedonethetrick。’
　　ThenBlenkironspoke。’IreckonIcanputyouwiseonthat，gentlemen，’hesaid。’Isawhernolaterthanyesterday。Sheisalovelylady。Shehappensalsotobetheownerofthishouse。’
　　BothSandyandIbegantolaugh。ItwastoocomictohavestumbledacrossEuropeandlightedontheveryheadquartersofthepuzzlewehadsetouttounriddle。
　　ButBlenkirondidnotlaugh。AtthementionofHildavonEinemhehadsuddenlybecomeverysolemn，andthesightofhisfacepulledmeupshort。