CHAPTER IVTHE COMING STORMTwo hours' hard riding brought Frank and his party, in the dusk of evening, to a large village on the edge of the plain of Erzerum. There was little or no danger of further molestation; in populous places an attack on a well-known English merchant might entail disagreeable consequences, since the authorities would be almost forced to take action; all the same, Frank wished that he could have completed his journey without pause. But that being impossible, he put up at a respectable khan or inn, where he persuaded the innkeeper, by means of excess payment, to agree to keep his door closed against any travellers who might arrive subsequently. Frank preferred not to have to spend the night under the same roof as Wonckhaus, who could not be far behind him on the road.His forethought bore fruit. Soon after he had retired to rest, with his head pillowed on his precious carpet, there was a loud banging on the door, and a rough voice bawled for the khanji. That amiable hosteller at first feigned sleep, but the pretence could not be long kept up through a din that might have roused the fabled sleepers of Ephesus. He got up, cursing, and moved to the door."Remember our bargain," Frank called through the partition dividing his select guest-chamber from the common room of the inn.The man mumbled something in answer, and Frank, wondering whether his promise would hold out against the importunity of the newcomers, listened anxiously to the colloquy that ensued at the door."O khanji!" bawled the voice outside."Ahi!" was the sleepy response."O khanji!""What is it I hear?""Are you Khanji Abdullah?""Ahi!"--a sleepy drawl that meant nothing."A curse on the deaf one!""Am I deaf, or to be cursed, or do I hear the ugly voice of a camel-driver?" asked the innkeeper artlessly."Where is Khanji Abdullah?""Who?""Khanji Abdullah-ah-ah!" yelled the voice, prolonging the name."Why do you wake honest sleepers, you dog of a dogson?""Iwake folk?Iwake folk? HaveIthe voice of an old dromedary? HaveIthe voice----"Here the speaker's shrill tones were drowned by a chorus of curses and expostulations from the guests in the common room, among whose voices Ali's was raised the loudest. When the clamour had died down, the voice of the man outside could be heard again."Wallahy! May Allah cast his blight upon the khan and the khanji, upon your religion and your affairs, upon your wife and children and kinsmen and cattle.""What is this outcry and cursing, O son of a camel?""Open your door for honest travellers in the night.""Wallahy! My house is full; there is not room for one honest man, much less a rogue. Get you gone, and split the ears of Khanji Muhammad yonder; his khan is the place for rogues.""What say you, O vile khanji? Know you that here is no rogue, but a noble Alman effendi of great size and weight, whose money-bags are brimming over like a cup overfull! Open then, khanji, without more display of ignorance and folly.""It is easy to lie in the dark. What know I of an Alman effendi? Of his nobility I say nothing; but if he be of great size and weight as you say, mashallah! there is no room for him here. Let him begone with his money-bags to Khanji Muhammad; he is very poor and needy, whereas I am in no straits, praise to Allah! Get you gone, you with the voice of a camel, and let me return to my sleep. Ahi!"A stream of imprecations burst from the lips of Abdi, dying down in the distance as he departed with Wonckhaus and his party towards the khan of Muhammad at the other end of the village."Was it not well done, and worthy of large bakshish?" said Abdullah, through the door of Frank's room."It was well done, khanji," replied Prank, "and the morning will bring what it will.""Alhamdolillah!" the innkeeper piously ejaculated as he returned to his couch.His guests settled themselves to slumber and were not disturbed for the rest of the night.Frank's first act on reaching Erzerum in the afternoon of the next day was to lock up the carpet securely in his strong room. The warehouse was an annexe at the back of the dwelling-house. This was a substantial building of stone, backing on a hillside, with a flat roof covered, like the most of the better houses in the town, with green turf. It had a large arched door, but small windows, hardly bigger than portholes, filled, however, with glass, and not with oiled paper, which the natives commonly used. Mr. Forester had made the interior comfortable in an English fashion. The stone floors were strewn with Persian rugs; on the white-washed walls hung a few engravings, together with hunting trophies. The furniture was of English make.As he passed through the office on his way to the strong room, Frank noticed on the desk a letter, in his father's handwriting. The carpet having been safely stowed away, he returned, put the letter in his pocket, and hurried out into the street: there was something to be done that brooked no delay, for Wonckhaus had arrived before him. He hastened down the street, which crossed a valley between his house and the Government buildings on the hill opposite, and made his way to the quarters of the military governor, with whom, after the long delay usual in the East, he was accorded an interview."I have come to lodge a complaint against Herr Wonckhaus and the Kurd Abdi," he said, when the preliminary courtesies had been exchanged. He related the incidents on the road. The Turkish governor listened to him coldly."I take a note of what you say, effendim," he said; "but you must know that Wonckhaus Effendi has already preferred a charge against you--that you blocked up the road with rocks, so that it was impassable. That, you are aware, is a serious offence. No one but a military officer in the exercise of his duty is permitted to block a road.""As I have already explained, excellency," said Frank patiently, "I merely completed what Herr Wonckhaus had begun. His design was obvious: the steps I took were taken solely for the purpose of safeguarding my merchandise.""It is told me that you threatened him with violence.""I said that if he threw down any more stones--committing, as you remarked, excellency, a serious offence--I would throw him after them. That, I submit, was perfectly justifiable in the circumstances.""I will not argue with you, effendim. You ought to have engaged zaptiehs for your protection on your journey. The matter cannot rest here. I must submit it to the governor of the province; it may have to be referred ultimately to Stamboul. Meanwhile, I must order you to keep the peace with Wonckhaus Effendi, who has felt it necessary to ask for protection."Seeing that no satisfaction would be derived from further parley, Frank took his leave and set off for home. He was somewhat surprised at the coolness of his reception. The military governor had only recently taken up office in the town; his predecessor had been a close personal friend of Mr. Forester, and Frank had assumed, almost as a matter of course, that the new official would be a man of the same stamp and equally well disposed. It was clear, however, from this his first official interview, that the governor was unwilling to hear both sides of a case and come to a just decision, or that he was ready to exercise partiality on the side of Wonckhaus. Frank was not troubled about the ultimate issue. The reference of the matter to the provincial governor, and possibly to the authorities at Constantinople, would postpone any decision for months, perhaps years. Meanwhile he would put all the facts before his father, who would know, better than he, how to deal with them.Thinking of his father reminded him of the letter in his pocket. He took it out, tore open the envelope, and read:MY DEAR FRANK,A serious storm is brewing in Europe. Austria has sent an ultimatum to Serbia that on the face of it means war. Serbia can't accept its terms without losing her independence, and Russia will certainly support her. That will as certainly cause Germany to move; then France is bound by the terms of her alliance with Russia to come in. Unless something very suddenly intervenes, all Europe will be in a blaze, possibly before you receive this. In the opinion of certain important people here the whole thing is a put-up job on the part of Germany, who is backing Austria with the deliberate intention of forcing a war before Russia has reorganized her army. There is great excitement here. German agents have been active for a long time, but the general opinion is that Turkey will keep out of it. She had enough of war two years ago, and her finances are now at the lowest ebb. Still, one can never be sure how far the Germans may succeed in duping or bribing the Turks. In my belief, everything depends on whether we shall be drawn in. Grey will work hard for peace; he may succeed as he has done before; but if he fails I can't see any possibility of our keeping out of it. France will be knocked out in a month if the German fleet gets to work; and we can't stand by and look on at such a catastrophe. Well, if we do come in, Germany will move heaven and earth to induce the Turks to make a bid for Egypt; and certain firebrands here are silly enough in their self-conceit to play Germany's game and ruin their country. I hope for the best, but you must be ready to clear out at a moment's notice. Unluckily I have an urgent call to London; am starting at once, but hope to return soon. Keep your eye closely on events: our consul will have the latest or all but the latest news; and if affairs look serious, I shall come to Erzerum, close down and bring away the stock. We should be all right here for a time, at any rate; and if the worst does happen it will be easier to shape our course here than in your wilds. Meanwhile hold on, and be circumspect.P.S. Just as well to keep your eye on H. W.Frank replaced the letter in his pocket. Here was food for thought indeed. He knew that, so complicated were the relations of the European Powers, the outbreak of war between any two of them might easily involve the others, and bring about that vast and universal struggle which had often been talked about, and as often dismissed as improbable if not impossible. To a rational person it seemed sheer madness that Europe should be plunged into strife over the affairs of one little Balkan nation: was it possible that the prophets who had foretold just such a cataclysm would prove to be right after all? And what of Britain? Frank had unbounded faith in the British navy, but would Britain be able to limit herself to the exercise of sea-power? Yet how could she take an effective part in land warfare with her small army?Pondering these questions, Frank arrived at his house almost unawares. He was roused from his reverie by the sight of Wonckhaus standing at his door, smoking a big pipe. The German smiled and seemed to be about to address him; but apparently he changed his mind. Frank paid no attention to him, but passed into his own house and sat down to his evening meal with a preoccupied air.CHAPTER VUNDER ARRESTDuring the next few days, the town seethed with ever-increasing excitement. It became known that Germany had declared war on Russia and France, and the sole topic of conversation among the Europeans was, what would Britain do? Rumour flew apace; authentic news was slow in coming in by telegraph; but at last it was officially announced that Britain was at war with Germany, and almost immediately afterwards that the British Grand Fleet had been shattered in the North Sea. Frank, in common with the few other Englishmen in the town, scoffed at this; but the story found many believers, and it was noticed that Wonckhaus ran up a large German flag on his roof-top. Frank paid frequent visits to the British consul, who depended for his information on the Turkish telegraph officials, and there was reason to suspect that a strict censorship had already been established.As usually happens in Asiatic Turkey when Europe is disturbed, there was growing racial excitement among the natives. The Armenians, a timid unstable people, incapable of effective combination, talked of revolution, and the lower-class Moslems of the town assumed a menacing attitude towards them. The Kurds in the country districts, it was rumoured, had already recommenced their attacks on the Armenians, and Frank was gravely apprehensive of massacres on a large scale. He instructed his Armenian employees to keep within doors as much as possible, and to avoid collisions with the Moslems. His chief clerk, Joseph, while sharing his fears, was not alarmed for his own safety. His father, a man of considerable business astuteness and organizing power, was a contractor to the 9th Army Corps, whose headquarters were at Erzerum, and in good relations with the military authorities. They hated him as an Armenian, but found him useful, indeed indispensable, as a business man, and when business is concerned, religion counts little with the Turk.Public feeling was stirred to its depths when news came of the arrival of theGoebenand theBreslauat the Bosporus. There was at once manifested a great deal of military activity. New levies flocked into Erzerum, and there were movements of troops along the whole Black Sea coast. Large supplies were needed for them, and the contractor was busily employed. Frank found it hard to believe that Turkey would be so short-sighted as to take the field against the Allied Powers; but he noticed that Wonckhaus, whose air of self-importance was growing day by day, was frequently in communication with the military governor, and the announcement of German victories became a daily occurrence. Joseph reported that these victories were the talk of the town, and it was openly declared that the Germans would soon be in possession of Paris, that rebellions had broken out in India, Ireland, and South Africa, and that the Sultan was on the point of recovering Egypt, the British garrison having been withdrawn to fight in the West. Frank met black looks in the streets; trade was at a standstill: and in the absence of trustworthy news he began to fidget and to wish that his father would return.One day a man ran into the office with a message for Joseph. A low-class mob had risen against the Armenians in the quarter in which his father's house was situated, and when the messenger left the rabble were battering on the contractor's door. Joseph at once rushed out, followed by Frank, who snatched up a revolver which he had made a practice of carrying in the streets during the past few weeks. There were unmistakable signs of commotion in the town. The Armenian shopkeepers were hurriedly shutting their booths; some were barricading their doors, others already speeding away with their portable goods to seek safety in remote quarters of the town or in the country without.When Frank arrived on the scene of the disturbance the mob had broken through the gate into the courtyard, and were battering at the door of the storeroom."Stand aside there!" called Frank impulsively, elbowing his way through the throng.He set his back against the door, and drawing his revolver threatened to shoot any man who ventured to renew the attack. The ruffians, who were armed only with sticks and clubs, fell back, overawed by the Englishman's authoritative voice and mien. Two elderly zaptiehs were looking on from the opposite side of the street. Without much faith in these official defenders of order Frank called on them to disperse the mob, or he would report them to the Governor. The policemen lifted their rifles and moved sluggishly towards him, pressing the mob aside without much energy. But the display of authority, such as it was, had the effect of thinning the mob. One man tried to work them up to resist, but finding himself left with a diminishing number of adherents, and perceiving a half company of regular troops marching up at the end of the street, he slunk away and disappeared.For the moment the danger was past. Frank returned home with Joseph."That man, the ringleader, was one of Abdi's gang," said Joseph as they went along. "I noticed him among them that day in the hills.""We'll have him arrested. You know where he lives?""I do not know. Ali will know.""Then find out from Ali, and I will see the Governor."But within an hour or two Frank was himself summoned to the Governor's palace."It is with grief and surprise I learn," said the Governor, "that you, a foreigner, have taken it upon yourself to give orders to my constables. What have you to say?""Seeing that the zaptiehs were looking on unconcerned at a set of ruffians assaulting the premises of your army contractor, excellency, I think that perhaps a foreigner's intervention may have done you a service."Frank took a higher tone than he would have adopted had he not still felt the sting left by his previous interview with the Governor."It is inexcusable," was the reply. "You will henceforth keep to your own house. If you are seen in the streets you will be arrested. You English take too much upon yourselves."Frank was too much surprised to expostulate, even if there had seemed any use in so doing. It was clear that his crime was the being an Englishman. Filled with a new anxiety as to the future, he left the palace, to find that he was to be escorted home by a file of infantrymen. On reaching the house he sent Joseph at once to ask the British consul to visit him."I think you had better remain quiet for the present," said that gentleman when the matter had been explained to him. "You are technically in the wrong, though the late governor would have thanked you for what you did. Wonckhaus is in the ascendant here. The authorities won't take any serious steps against you at present. Until that affair of yours with Wonckhaus is decided you need have no anxiety. Your course is certainly to lie low and refrain from the least appearance of provocation. You are expecting your father?""Yes, I am surprised that I haven't heard from him.""Well, everything is more or less disorganized. Probably he will turn up unexpectedly one day and take you away with him. All indications point to the entrance of Turkey into the war. She has closed the Dardanelles--an ominous sign. Wonckhaus put it about to-day that Paris had fallen. I don't believe it, but the authorities are absolutely hypnotized by the Germans, and Enver Pasha, their tool, seems to be having it all his own way at Constantinople. I hope to get trustworthy information through a courier shortly; I don't believe what they dole out here. If Turkey does enter the war, I shall have to go, of course; and if your father hasn't arrived by that time, you must come away under my safe-conduct."On leaving the house the consul perceived that the Governor's order to Frank was to be enforced: a sentry was already posted at the gate. He returned for a final word."It means that you are practically a prisoner," he said to Frank, "and it will probably be inadvisable that I should be seen coming here. But we can communicate through Joseph. I will make a formal report to our ambassador at Constantinople, who may possibly make a peremptory demand for your release, though while that unfortunate affair with Wonckhaus is stillsub judiceit may be difficult to move. But there's no need to be uneasy.""That's all very well," replied Frank, "but my business is at an end, and the sooner I can get away the better. I don't think I ought even to wait for my father.""You must be as patient as you can. In the present state of affairs you would never get your stock across country safely. I'll do all I can, and keep you informed through Joseph how things are shaping."CHAPTER VIRIGOURIt was now the beginning of September. Frank had received no letters from Europe for two or three weeks, nor the parcel of London newspapers which he was accustomed to get by the weekly mail. He suspected that this had been confiscated by the officials. All the news he heard was that given out by the authorities, together with that which was brought him by Joseph, who was in a position to learn more than was common property. His father, Isaac Kopri, the contractor, included in his business organization a private intelligence department. He got important news as a rule long before the general public, and often before the officials themselves. The value of his information of course depended on its source, and his agents could only pass on what was officially given out in the towns where they were stationed, and the unofficial rumours that passed from mouth to mouth. Thus it happened that, even five weeks after the outbreak of war, Frank knew next to nothing of the actual course of events, and, if he had believed what was reported, would have been wretched because Paris and Warsaw were in the hands of the Germans, the British navy was annihilated, all the British colonies in revolt, and London at the mercy of the enemy.One day, happily, Joseph brought in, hidden in the folds of his garments, a number of London newspapers which had come into the hands of his father. From these Frank learnt that though Belgium was occupied by the Germans, their offensive had been checked in all quarters, and their hope of an easy and a speedy triumph was shattered. What most deeply interested him, however, was the news that Lord Kitchener was creating an immense new army, the ranks of which were being rapidly filled by volunteers from every class and section of the people. This did but increase his eagerness to get away from Erzerum. He longed for the day to come when he might hurry back to England and enlist in what promised to be the first national army that Britain had put into the field since the far-gone days when every citizen was a soldier as a matter of course.Day by day it grew clearer from Joseph's reports that Germany would drag Turkey into the war. Wonckhaus was constantly at the Governor's house; the Governor's aides-de-camp were frequent visitors to Wonckhaus. The 9th Army Corps was being brought up to full strength, and German officers were drilling the recruits. It was even announced that the Governor himself would shortly be replaced by a German officer of high rank. One morning Joseph announced that Wonckhaus had appeared in the uniform of a major in the Turkish army; it had become known that in his own country he had been a captain of Landwehr. The ostensible merchant had been all along, it was clear, an agent of the German Government.Weeks passed, irksomely, drearily. No letter came from Mr. Forester. Frank was never allowed to leave his house. Night and day a sentry stood on guard. Frank could take exercise only in his yard and on his roof. He did his best to keep himself in condition by means of gymnastic practice, but he was becoming low-spirited and sick of his life. Ideas of attempting escape often came to him, but were always checked by the thought of his stock, worth several thousands of pounds, which he felt he could not leave to be confiscated. To sell it was impossible. In the present situation no one would buy it; if any one were so rash as to purchase, he would probably be making a present of his money and the goods to the Turkish officials.Frank's fears in this regard were confirmed by the news brought him one day by Joseph. TheGoebenand theBreslauhad been attacking Russian vessels in the Black Sea. War was certain. A matter that affected Frank more closely was a conversation which Kopri had partially overheard between the new German Governor and Wonckhaus. Frank's name had been mentioned, in what connection Kopri, being ignorant of German, did not know. But he suggested that the authorities were only awaiting a formal declaration of war to seize the Foresters' stock, among other English property. Wonckhaus was well aware of its value, and apart from its usefulness in assisting the Turkish finances, Wonckhaus had a personal grudge to pay off.This news set Frank in a ferment. Every other consideration was now subordinated in his mind to the question of saving his stock. He was at his wits' end. He consulted with Joseph, but Joseph seemed unable to suggest any likely means. It was only at the end of a long conversation that the Armenian sprang a surprise upon him.In Erzerum, owing to the constantly recurring troubles, the Armenians have various hiding-places in which they secrete their valuables and occasionally themselves. The whereabouts of these spots is jealously guarded, and it was only when Frank had given up his problem in despair that Joseph divulged a secret locked up in his breast."Why on earth didn't you tell me this before?" demanded Frank with some indignation.Joseph begged for forgiveness on the plea that the secret belonged to his community, and he had his father's permission to reveal it only in the last resort."Well, send the servants out of the house on some errand or other, and then show me the place."The house was an old one, which had played a part in the troubled history of the city. When the servants had been disposed of, Joseph took Frank to one of the lower rooms. The back wall was apparently built against the solid hillside; but a sliding panel, cunningly disguised, gave access to a narrow passage which bent abruptly to the left. Groping his way through this for some distance at Joseph's heels, Frank found himself in a small chamber about eight feet square. He sniffed."What is this smell of smoke?" he asked."There is a narrow pipe running into the chimney next door," Joseph replied."Does Wonckhaus know of it?" asked Frank instantly."It is not at all likely. Karamin, who owns this house, probably does not know of it. If he does, he would not tell Wonckhaus. I should not have told you but----""Yes, yes; I understand. But this is capital. We can bring here the most valuable part of our stock; it won't do to bring it all, for Wonckhaus would suspect a hiding-place if he found all our things gone. Come, let us do it at once."Together they worked for an hour or two in transporting the most valuable rugs, including Mirza Aga's, to the secret chamber. When this was done, and the panel replaced, Frank felt exultingly confident that the inevitable search would completely baffle the enemy.He had not long to wait for confirmation of his faith. October dragged away; on November 2 the streets were filled with excited people, cheering the news that the British and Russian ambassadors had left Constantinople. In anticipation of the outbreak of hostilities troops had been for some days marching eastward and north-eastward towards the Russian frontier and the Caucasus, deluded by their German officers into the belief that Russia had withdrawn the greater part of her forces from Transcaucasia to withstand the German onslaught on Poland, and that they would have an easy task in recovering the ground lost in the war of 1878.On the same day, a Turkish officer with a file of men came to Frank's house. Leaving the men at the door, he entered."I regret, effendim," he said to Frank politely, "that I have orders to arrest you and convey you to the citadel.""For what reason, and on what charge?" asked Frank."Your country and mine are now at war, effendim. As an alien of military age, you cannot remain at large. Besides, there is that matter of blocking the road. The higher authorities at Stamboul have not yet given their decision; but in the meantime the Governor deems it necessary to imprison you. I assure you of my personal regret, and on the Governor's part that your treatment shall be as mild as possible."Frank did not then know what mildness meant, as interpreted by German military officers. The Turkish lieutenant's politeness and apologetic manner prevented him from feeling any personal resentment at the moment.While he was gathering a few things together, Wonckhaus came in. The German was so impatient to secure his booty, and possibly to enjoy the spectacle of his victim's humiliation, that he had not waited for Frank's departure. Accompanied by one of his clerks, he hastened to the storeroom, and taking from his pocket a list of the stock, obtained Frank knew not how, began to call over the items."You take an inventory for the purpose of safeguarding my property and returning it at the end of the war, I presume," said Frank to the Turk."That I know nothing about," was the answer. "The Governor will no doubt do everything in order. Are you ready, effendim?""In a minute or two, if you don't mind waiting until Major Wonckhaus has completed his task."Wonckhaus's voice could be heard from the storeroom."The rug of Shiraz, 16 by 12. Where is that? Not here? And the Khorassan rug of Mirza Aga. Not here? But it must be here. It has not been sold. It has not been removed. Pull down that big Ispahan carpet; it may be under that."A few minutes passed. Wonckhaus was growing furious. He uttered a resounding German curse."Come, we must search the house," he cried.He returned to the room where Frank stood, glared at him savagely, glanced around, and assuring himself that the rugs on the floor were of no great value, proceeded to a systematic search of the premises. He ransacked every room, and went so far as to strip the roof of its turf. But nowhere could he find the Khorassan rug of Mirza Aga, or several other rugs representing some tens of thousands of German marks.Frank, in spite of his situation, was amused. Wonckhaus, he thought, could hardly show his hand so completely as to demand information about property which was in no way his concern, and his rage and air of bafflement when he returned to the lower room was certainly comical to witness. Frank's amusement would have been less if he could have foreseen what the discrepancy between the actual stock and the list was to cost him.Plunder was Wonckhaus's object, and, to Frank's surprise--he did not yet know German shamelessness---Wonckhaus now made no secret of it. He went to the office desk, wrenched it open--"He might at least have asked for the key," thought Frank--and examined the stock book. He wheeled round."The stock is short," he cried. "What have you done with the goods?"Frank looked at him with a smile, but said nothing."Do you hear?" shouted Wonckhaus, the charm of manner which had won him a certain popularity among the Europeans dropping from him like a loosened garment. "What have you done with the goods?"Frank turned to the Turkish officer."Major Wonckhaus is curious about my business," he said. "I have no information to give."Wonckhaus blustered. He roared at Joseph, who had been standing silent in the background."You fellow, where are the rugs? What have you done with them?""I am my master's servant," said Joseph quietly."And your father's son!" cried the German. "You will tell me instantly what I want to know, or you will find yourself laid by the heels, and the army will have another contractor."Wonckhaus had lost his temper, or he would have reflected that a change of contractors at this critical moment was out of the question. Joseph was shrewd enough to perceive the emptiness of his threat, and merely replied that he could say nothing without his master's orders.At this moment, while Wonckhaus was glaring with baffled rage at Frank and his faithful clerk, a non-commissioned officer came in."A message from the Governor, effendim," he said to the lieutenant. "The Englishman is to be kept a prisoner in the upper storey of this house, the lower storey will be occupied by his guards."To Frank this was very agreeable news. He had felt unhappy at the prospect of being shut up in the common prison, or even in the soldiers' prison at the citadel: Turkish jails are unsavoury places. In his own house he would at least be able to keep clean. Moreover, he would then be able, in a sense, to watch over his carpets. The hiding-place could hardly be discovered without his hearing of it, and there would be a certain satisfaction in knowing that his property was still safe, or, if it were found, in learning definitely what had become of it. He afterwards discovered that the change of plan was due to the British consul, who had learnt of the order for his arrest when he applied for a passport for him, and had obtained this indulgence from the Governor.Frank noticed that Wonckhaus also appeared to get some satisfaction from the change. The German made no further attempt to obtain the information he desired, and left the house. Frank was taken upstairs and locked in his own bedroom. Joseph, however, was marched off by a couple of the soldiers, and it was some few days before Frank learnt what had become of him.CHAPTER VIITEMPTATIONFrank felt that while things might have been worse, they were quite bad enough. The ostensible reason of his imprisonment being that he was of military age, he foresaw the possibility of his remaining a prisoner until the end of the war--perhaps a year, for while he had a great respect for Germany's military power, he did not think it likely that she could withstand the forces of the Triple Entente for more than twelve months.At first he had no great hardship to endure. His own servants had been dismissed, but he had been given as personal attendant an old Arab named Hussein who combined the natural courtesy of his race with another Eastern characteristic--a keen appetite for bakshish. Frank had been allowed to keep his ready money, and was thus able to purchase many comforts to supplement the prisoner's fare supplied him. Hussein, of course, made a handsome profit out of every transaction in which he was thus employed, and Frank soon saw the necessity of self-restraint, for money would not last for ever, and there was no chance of obtaining more.Hussein was talkative and intelligent, always polite, and, Frank suspected, sly. It was from him that Frank learnt, after a few days, that Joseph had been released from the common jail and had left the town. The Turks were straining every nerve to collect supplies for their campaign in the Caucasus, and Joseph's father the contractor was too useful a man to be alienated. It was not long before Frank had proof of Hussein's slyness."The days are getting colder, effendim," he said one day. "There was snow in the night.""Very uncomfortable for the army," said Frank."True. Our winter is very long, very bitter. It is not so in your country, effendim?""Not so bitter, perhaps, but quite as long as we like it.""Wallahy! This country is not a healthy place for Englishmen in the winter. Hundreds of them have left Turkey, so it is told me. Of a truth Turkey is not a healthy place for them now! A pity you are not gone too, effendim.""Well, I am certainly not here by my own wish.""A wish is the father of an action, effendim. You have but to wish, and----""What are you driving at?" said Frank as the Arab paused."There was a man of Trebizond who being falsely accused and unjustly cast into prison, nevertheless after taking thought confessed with tears that he was guilty of that crime; whereupon the heart of his jailer was softened and his hand was opened to receive the slight gifts that were the tokens of the prisoner's repentance, and within a little that man was free, and able to sin again or to lead a virtuous life as so pleased him.""A parable, Hussein?" said Frank with a smile."For the ears of the wise, effendim. Wallahy! what are a man's goods in comparison with his freedom?""Which being interpreted means that you will let me go in exchange for what you call a few slight gifts?""Truly such gifts, here a little, there a little, will unlock prison doors and unbar city gates. But there is first one small matter, and that is that you breathe in my ear the nook where those few paltry rugs lie hid. Wallahy! what are a few threads of wool against the open road and the boundless sky?""Oho, friend Hussein! I must contrive a double debt to pay, is that it? The pipe sings sweetly when the fowler is snaring a bird, but this particular bird, I assure you, is not to be snared. You will waste your breath, Hussein.""Allah is great!" said the Arab, as he made the salam and left the room.A few days passed. Frank noticed that there was a slight deterioration in the quality of his food. Then one morning he had a visit from Wonckhaus."Good-morning, Mr. Forester," said the German pleasantly. "What an unfortunate thing this is!"Frank made no answer. After a pause the German went on:"We have been rivals in business, and now, through an unfortunate misunderstanding between our Governments, we are enemies. But the enmity is official, not personal, I assure you. We have crossed each other in business, but business men do not quarrel. And there is one circumstance that should make us friends. After all, you and I are Europeans among Orientals; that is a bond between us; and you will not take amiss advice honestly given by one European to another. You may not credit it" (Frank didn't), "but up to the present I have stood between the Turks and you. But for me your life would not have been worth a snap. Now I am about to leave the city for the front. The Turkish army, led by German officers, is about to deal a smashing blow to the barbarous Russians in the Caucasus, and to occupy Batum. Before I leave, it would give me great pleasure to see you in a safer position. It merely needs the exercise of your capital English principle of give-and-take. Why not disclose the whereabouts of your useless stock? In return, I would contrive that you should be sent to Constantinople and ultimately released."Frank did not speak. His fingers were drumming on the table, his eyes fixed on the German's."I merely drop you a friendly hint," Wonckhaus resumed. "Things are looking very serious. The Turks are making a beginning with the Armenians: when the appetite for blood is whetted, they may easily fail to discriminate between Armenians and other enemies. You will not forget that you are in a very remote place. Erzerum is not Constantinople. Take a friend's advice and get back to civilisation. I will act as a go-between. If you will confide in me, I will make your peace with the Turks.""What guarantee do you offer?" asked Frank, opening his lips at last."My word; you will not require more; the word of a German and an officer.""But surely, Herr Wonckhaus, unless I am mistaken your word has not hitherto been accepted even by your allies the Turks. Pardon me for asking what has happened to give it value.""You insult me!" snapped the German."Really I don't think so; I merely state a fact. You offer me something of no value as security for something of considerable value. That is not a business proposition."Wonckhaus, stung as much by Frank's scornful tone as by his words, flushed darkly, and took a step forward, laying his hand on his sword."You English swine!" he cried. "You dare to insult me--me, an officer of the Kaiser?"Frank had sprung up, and seized the handiest weapon available--a small three-legged stool. Keeping the table between himself and the German, he grasped the stool by one leg, and said:"Keep your distance!"Wonckhaus, whether daunted by Frank's threatening attitude or for some reason of policy, stood still, glaring venomously. Then he banged his half-drawn sword into its scabbard, and swung round. At the door he turned suddenly."Before your English carcase is flung to the dogs of Erzerum," he sputtered, "you will have time to--to repent your insolence."He swung round again, slammed the door behind him, ordered Hussein outside to lock it, and clattered down the steps.Frank dropped the stool and sat down, smiling at the feeble end of the German's explosive sentence. But the smile soon passed. His English spirit would not allow him to be cowed by Wonckhaus's threat, but remembering his isolated situation he could not help feeling uneasy. It was well for his peace of mind that he was not aware of what German frightfulness had already accomplished in Belgium.It was not long before he began to feel the effects of Wonckhaus's malice. The cold weather had set in, and the Armenian winter is excessively cold. His apartment had been warmed by a nargal or charcoal stove. This was not replenished."The fire has gone out," he said to the Arab, when he brought his dinner."Fuel is very dear, effendim.""I have still some money; I will pay.""It cannot be bought, effendim. It is all required for the troops, who are slaying tens of thousands of Russians in the bleak mountains.""Buy me some blankets, then.""That also is impossible, effendim. Our brave soldiers need all the blankets in the frosty heights. Why does not your nobility send for those wasted rugs?"The man's sly look made Frank itch to thrash him. It was clear from his manner that he was acting under instructions. Frank noticed, too, that his food was being reduced in quantity as well as poorer in quality, and suspected that this was directly due to Wonckhaus; the Turks as a rule do not treat their prisoners inhumanely. More than once he had thought of trying to escape, and with his increasing hardships his mind recurred to it again and again. To get out of the building might not be very difficult; Orientals are notoriously slack in guard; the lock of his room might be forced, and the soldiers in the rooms below evaded. But then the real difficulties would begin. He would be recognised in the streets as a European; even before he could reach the walls discovery and arrest were certain. Escape was impossible without assistance from outside, and he had no means of communicating with friends, nor was it probable that any European friends remained in the town.Tortured by cold and hunger, Frank spent the most wretched month of his life during December. Strong though he was in constitution, he felt that he was growing weaker. For a time he tried to keep himself in condition by daily physical exercises; but insufficient food and lack of fresh air--he was allowed to mount to the roof for an hour a day--gradually reduced his energy. There was nothing to alleviate the tedium of his imprisonment: no newspapers, no books, nothing to occupy his mind. He was often tempted to purchase his freedom by surrendering his secret; but his native resolution and the mental picture of Wonckhaus's triumph kept him steadfast. And it was no ordinary will that could have withstood day after day Hussein's sly reminders of how easy it would be to command all the comforts he lacked.One day early in January he heard unusual sounds on the staircase--a series of heavy clumping blows slowly ascending towards his room. The door opened, and Wonckhaus hobbled in on a crutch, assisted by an orderly, who stood in the doorway as if on guard, motionless, with expressionless face. The German looked pale and worn. He was swathed in heavy furs."I had not thought to revisit you so soon, Mr. Forester," he said, "but a Russian bullet has enforced me to return to the city for a short time, and I felt bound to see how you were faring."Frank was silent; he was, in fact, amazed that Wonckhaus should have cared to show his face again after what had passed at their last interview. "The Germans must have uncommonly tough hides," he thought."Is there anything I can do for your comfort?" Wonckhaus continued. "You are not looking very well. I have some influence, a very little, with the Turks."The German's manner was so subdued, his tone so courteous, that Frank wondered whether after all he had misjudged him. Perhaps he had been over hasty; perhaps there was some decent feeling in the man, which his own uncompromising attitude had prevented from showing itself before."I want warmth and good food," he said."Not warm enough?" exclaimed Wonckhaus. "Yet it does not appear cold. Indeed, I am too warm." He unloosed his fur coat. "And food, too; why, what do they give you?"Frank saw that the German was playing with him. In a revulsion of feeling he flushed hotly, and was about to give utterance to his thoughts, but he restrained himself with an effort and remained silent."Call Hussein," said Wonckhaus to the orderly, whom Frank had seen without observing.The Arab entered. The orderly followed him, and stood in the background. Frank just glanced at him, and was surprised to see him raise a finger to his lips, then drop his hand quickly and stand motionless as before, looking, however, hard at Frank. Wonckhaus and the Arab had turned towards each other, or they might have noticed the slight start and the enquiring glance into which Frank had been surprised by the orderly's movement."The effendi complains of his food," said Wonckhaus. "What does he get?"While Hussein, with a look of sly enjoyment, was retailing the list of the meagre rations supplied, the orderly drew from his tunic a watch, apparently of cheap European or American make. He did not look at it, but held it up, then glanced at the window in the wall above his head on the left. Wonckhaus, following Frank's eyes, turned round. The orderly was affecting to look at the time."You surprise me, Hussein," said the German. "The diet is more than liberal. How often during the past month should I and my brave men have been grateful for such rations! Ah! these luxurious English! They have lived on the fat of the land. And what is the result? They are degenerate; they have fed the body and starved the mind. They are learning their mistake. That will do, Hussein."The Arab left the room. The orderly returned the watch to his pocket, holding it significantly suspended by the chain for a moment. Then he stared straight in front of him, unintelligent, impassive."Well now, Mr. Forester," said Wonckhaus, "the lot of a prisoner can never be quite comfortable, though it is preferable to the hard lot of the fighting man. If you feel discomfort, the remedy is in your own hands. I need not repeat the explanations which you received so churlishly at our last meeting. I will give you another week for reflection. At the end of that time--well, we shall see!"
CHAPTER IV
THE COMING STORM
Two hours' hard riding brought Frank and his party, in the dusk of evening, to a large village on the edge of the plain of Erzerum. There was little or no danger of further molestation; in populous places an attack on a well-known English merchant might entail disagreeable consequences, since the authorities would be almost forced to take action; all the same, Frank wished that he could have completed his journey without pause. But that being impossible, he put up at a respectable khan or inn, where he persuaded the innkeeper, by means of excess payment, to agree to keep his door closed against any travellers who might arrive subsequently. Frank preferred not to have to spend the night under the same roof as Wonckhaus, who could not be far behind him on the road.
His forethought bore fruit. Soon after he had retired to rest, with his head pillowed on his precious carpet, there was a loud banging on the door, and a rough voice bawled for the khanji. That amiable hosteller at first feigned sleep, but the pretence could not be long kept up through a din that might have roused the fabled sleepers of Ephesus. He got up, cursing, and moved to the door.
"Remember our bargain," Frank called through the partition dividing his select guest-chamber from the common room of the inn.
The man mumbled something in answer, and Frank, wondering whether his promise would hold out against the importunity of the newcomers, listened anxiously to the colloquy that ensued at the door.
"O khanji!" bawled the voice outside.
"Ahi!" was the sleepy response.
"O khanji!"
"What is it I hear?"
"Are you Khanji Abdullah?"
"Ahi!"--a sleepy drawl that meant nothing.
"A curse on the deaf one!"
"Am I deaf, or to be cursed, or do I hear the ugly voice of a camel-driver?" asked the innkeeper artlessly.
"Where is Khanji Abdullah?"
"Who?"
"Khanji Abdullah-ah-ah!" yelled the voice, prolonging the name.
"Why do you wake honest sleepers, you dog of a dogson?"
"Iwake folk?Iwake folk? HaveIthe voice of an old dromedary? HaveIthe voice----"
Here the speaker's shrill tones were drowned by a chorus of curses and expostulations from the guests in the common room, among whose voices Ali's was raised the loudest. When the clamour had died down, the voice of the man outside could be heard again.
"Wallahy! May Allah cast his blight upon the khan and the khanji, upon your religion and your affairs, upon your wife and children and kinsmen and cattle."
"What is this outcry and cursing, O son of a camel?"
"Open your door for honest travellers in the night."
"Wallahy! My house is full; there is not room for one honest man, much less a rogue. Get you gone, and split the ears of Khanji Muhammad yonder; his khan is the place for rogues."
"What say you, O vile khanji? Know you that here is no rogue, but a noble Alman effendi of great size and weight, whose money-bags are brimming over like a cup overfull! Open then, khanji, without more display of ignorance and folly."
"It is easy to lie in the dark. What know I of an Alman effendi? Of his nobility I say nothing; but if he be of great size and weight as you say, mashallah! there is no room for him here. Let him begone with his money-bags to Khanji Muhammad; he is very poor and needy, whereas I am in no straits, praise to Allah! Get you gone, you with the voice of a camel, and let me return to my sleep. Ahi!"
A stream of imprecations burst from the lips of Abdi, dying down in the distance as he departed with Wonckhaus and his party towards the khan of Muhammad at the other end of the village.
"Was it not well done, and worthy of large bakshish?" said Abdullah, through the door of Frank's room.
"It was well done, khanji," replied Prank, "and the morning will bring what it will."
"Alhamdolillah!" the innkeeper piously ejaculated as he returned to his couch.
His guests settled themselves to slumber and were not disturbed for the rest of the night.
Frank's first act on reaching Erzerum in the afternoon of the next day was to lock up the carpet securely in his strong room. The warehouse was an annexe at the back of the dwelling-house. This was a substantial building of stone, backing on a hillside, with a flat roof covered, like the most of the better houses in the town, with green turf. It had a large arched door, but small windows, hardly bigger than portholes, filled, however, with glass, and not with oiled paper, which the natives commonly used. Mr. Forester had made the interior comfortable in an English fashion. The stone floors were strewn with Persian rugs; on the white-washed walls hung a few engravings, together with hunting trophies. The furniture was of English make.
As he passed through the office on his way to the strong room, Frank noticed on the desk a letter, in his father's handwriting. The carpet having been safely stowed away, he returned, put the letter in his pocket, and hurried out into the street: there was something to be done that brooked no delay, for Wonckhaus had arrived before him. He hastened down the street, which crossed a valley between his house and the Government buildings on the hill opposite, and made his way to the quarters of the military governor, with whom, after the long delay usual in the East, he was accorded an interview.
"I have come to lodge a complaint against Herr Wonckhaus and the Kurd Abdi," he said, when the preliminary courtesies had been exchanged. He related the incidents on the road. The Turkish governor listened to him coldly.
"I take a note of what you say, effendim," he said; "but you must know that Wonckhaus Effendi has already preferred a charge against you--that you blocked up the road with rocks, so that it was impassable. That, you are aware, is a serious offence. No one but a military officer in the exercise of his duty is permitted to block a road."
"As I have already explained, excellency," said Frank patiently, "I merely completed what Herr Wonckhaus had begun. His design was obvious: the steps I took were taken solely for the purpose of safeguarding my merchandise."
"It is told me that you threatened him with violence."
"I said that if he threw down any more stones--committing, as you remarked, excellency, a serious offence--I would throw him after them. That, I submit, was perfectly justifiable in the circumstances."
"I will not argue with you, effendim. You ought to have engaged zaptiehs for your protection on your journey. The matter cannot rest here. I must submit it to the governor of the province; it may have to be referred ultimately to Stamboul. Meanwhile, I must order you to keep the peace with Wonckhaus Effendi, who has felt it necessary to ask for protection."
Seeing that no satisfaction would be derived from further parley, Frank took his leave and set off for home. He was somewhat surprised at the coolness of his reception. The military governor had only recently taken up office in the town; his predecessor had been a close personal friend of Mr. Forester, and Frank had assumed, almost as a matter of course, that the new official would be a man of the same stamp and equally well disposed. It was clear, however, from this his first official interview, that the governor was unwilling to hear both sides of a case and come to a just decision, or that he was ready to exercise partiality on the side of Wonckhaus. Frank was not troubled about the ultimate issue. The reference of the matter to the provincial governor, and possibly to the authorities at Constantinople, would postpone any decision for months, perhaps years. Meanwhile he would put all the facts before his father, who would know, better than he, how to deal with them.
Thinking of his father reminded him of the letter in his pocket. He took it out, tore open the envelope, and read:
MY DEAR FRANK,
A serious storm is brewing in Europe. Austria has sent an ultimatum to Serbia that on the face of it means war. Serbia can't accept its terms without losing her independence, and Russia will certainly support her. That will as certainly cause Germany to move; then France is bound by the terms of her alliance with Russia to come in. Unless something very suddenly intervenes, all Europe will be in a blaze, possibly before you receive this. In the opinion of certain important people here the whole thing is a put-up job on the part of Germany, who is backing Austria with the deliberate intention of forcing a war before Russia has reorganized her army. There is great excitement here. German agents have been active for a long time, but the general opinion is that Turkey will keep out of it. She had enough of war two years ago, and her finances are now at the lowest ebb. Still, one can never be sure how far the Germans may succeed in duping or bribing the Turks. In my belief, everything depends on whether we shall be drawn in. Grey will work hard for peace; he may succeed as he has done before; but if he fails I can't see any possibility of our keeping out of it. France will be knocked out in a month if the German fleet gets to work; and we can't stand by and look on at such a catastrophe. Well, if we do come in, Germany will move heaven and earth to induce the Turks to make a bid for Egypt; and certain firebrands here are silly enough in their self-conceit to play Germany's game and ruin their country. I hope for the best, but you must be ready to clear out at a moment's notice. Unluckily I have an urgent call to London; am starting at once, but hope to return soon. Keep your eye closely on events: our consul will have the latest or all but the latest news; and if affairs look serious, I shall come to Erzerum, close down and bring away the stock. We should be all right here for a time, at any rate; and if the worst does happen it will be easier to shape our course here than in your wilds. Meanwhile hold on, and be circumspect.
P.S. Just as well to keep your eye on H. W.
Frank replaced the letter in his pocket. Here was food for thought indeed. He knew that, so complicated were the relations of the European Powers, the outbreak of war between any two of them might easily involve the others, and bring about that vast and universal struggle which had often been talked about, and as often dismissed as improbable if not impossible. To a rational person it seemed sheer madness that Europe should be plunged into strife over the affairs of one little Balkan nation: was it possible that the prophets who had foretold just such a cataclysm would prove to be right after all? And what of Britain? Frank had unbounded faith in the British navy, but would Britain be able to limit herself to the exercise of sea-power? Yet how could she take an effective part in land warfare with her small army?
Pondering these questions, Frank arrived at his house almost unawares. He was roused from his reverie by the sight of Wonckhaus standing at his door, smoking a big pipe. The German smiled and seemed to be about to address him; but apparently he changed his mind. Frank paid no attention to him, but passed into his own house and sat down to his evening meal with a preoccupied air.
CHAPTER V
UNDER ARREST
During the next few days, the town seethed with ever-increasing excitement. It became known that Germany had declared war on Russia and France, and the sole topic of conversation among the Europeans was, what would Britain do? Rumour flew apace; authentic news was slow in coming in by telegraph; but at last it was officially announced that Britain was at war with Germany, and almost immediately afterwards that the British Grand Fleet had been shattered in the North Sea. Frank, in common with the few other Englishmen in the town, scoffed at this; but the story found many believers, and it was noticed that Wonckhaus ran up a large German flag on his roof-top. Frank paid frequent visits to the British consul, who depended for his information on the Turkish telegraph officials, and there was reason to suspect that a strict censorship had already been established.
As usually happens in Asiatic Turkey when Europe is disturbed, there was growing racial excitement among the natives. The Armenians, a timid unstable people, incapable of effective combination, talked of revolution, and the lower-class Moslems of the town assumed a menacing attitude towards them. The Kurds in the country districts, it was rumoured, had already recommenced their attacks on the Armenians, and Frank was gravely apprehensive of massacres on a large scale. He instructed his Armenian employees to keep within doors as much as possible, and to avoid collisions with the Moslems. His chief clerk, Joseph, while sharing his fears, was not alarmed for his own safety. His father, a man of considerable business astuteness and organizing power, was a contractor to the 9th Army Corps, whose headquarters were at Erzerum, and in good relations with the military authorities. They hated him as an Armenian, but found him useful, indeed indispensable, as a business man, and when business is concerned, religion counts little with the Turk.
Public feeling was stirred to its depths when news came of the arrival of theGoebenand theBreslauat the Bosporus. There was at once manifested a great deal of military activity. New levies flocked into Erzerum, and there were movements of troops along the whole Black Sea coast. Large supplies were needed for them, and the contractor was busily employed. Frank found it hard to believe that Turkey would be so short-sighted as to take the field against the Allied Powers; but he noticed that Wonckhaus, whose air of self-importance was growing day by day, was frequently in communication with the military governor, and the announcement of German victories became a daily occurrence. Joseph reported that these victories were the talk of the town, and it was openly declared that the Germans would soon be in possession of Paris, that rebellions had broken out in India, Ireland, and South Africa, and that the Sultan was on the point of recovering Egypt, the British garrison having been withdrawn to fight in the West. Frank met black looks in the streets; trade was at a standstill: and in the absence of trustworthy news he began to fidget and to wish that his father would return.
One day a man ran into the office with a message for Joseph. A low-class mob had risen against the Armenians in the quarter in which his father's house was situated, and when the messenger left the rabble were battering on the contractor's door. Joseph at once rushed out, followed by Frank, who snatched up a revolver which he had made a practice of carrying in the streets during the past few weeks. There were unmistakable signs of commotion in the town. The Armenian shopkeepers were hurriedly shutting their booths; some were barricading their doors, others already speeding away with their portable goods to seek safety in remote quarters of the town or in the country without.
When Frank arrived on the scene of the disturbance the mob had broken through the gate into the courtyard, and were battering at the door of the storeroom.
"Stand aside there!" called Frank impulsively, elbowing his way through the throng.
He set his back against the door, and drawing his revolver threatened to shoot any man who ventured to renew the attack. The ruffians, who were armed only with sticks and clubs, fell back, overawed by the Englishman's authoritative voice and mien. Two elderly zaptiehs were looking on from the opposite side of the street. Without much faith in these official defenders of order Frank called on them to disperse the mob, or he would report them to the Governor. The policemen lifted their rifles and moved sluggishly towards him, pressing the mob aside without much energy. But the display of authority, such as it was, had the effect of thinning the mob. One man tried to work them up to resist, but finding himself left with a diminishing number of adherents, and perceiving a half company of regular troops marching up at the end of the street, he slunk away and disappeared.
For the moment the danger was past. Frank returned home with Joseph.
"That man, the ringleader, was one of Abdi's gang," said Joseph as they went along. "I noticed him among them that day in the hills."
"We'll have him arrested. You know where he lives?"
"I do not know. Ali will know."
"Then find out from Ali, and I will see the Governor."
But within an hour or two Frank was himself summoned to the Governor's palace.
"It is with grief and surprise I learn," said the Governor, "that you, a foreigner, have taken it upon yourself to give orders to my constables. What have you to say?"
"Seeing that the zaptiehs were looking on unconcerned at a set of ruffians assaulting the premises of your army contractor, excellency, I think that perhaps a foreigner's intervention may have done you a service."
Frank took a higher tone than he would have adopted had he not still felt the sting left by his previous interview with the Governor.
"It is inexcusable," was the reply. "You will henceforth keep to your own house. If you are seen in the streets you will be arrested. You English take too much upon yourselves."
Frank was too much surprised to expostulate, even if there had seemed any use in so doing. It was clear that his crime was the being an Englishman. Filled with a new anxiety as to the future, he left the palace, to find that he was to be escorted home by a file of infantrymen. On reaching the house he sent Joseph at once to ask the British consul to visit him.
"I think you had better remain quiet for the present," said that gentleman when the matter had been explained to him. "You are technically in the wrong, though the late governor would have thanked you for what you did. Wonckhaus is in the ascendant here. The authorities won't take any serious steps against you at present. Until that affair of yours with Wonckhaus is decided you need have no anxiety. Your course is certainly to lie low and refrain from the least appearance of provocation. You are expecting your father?"
"Yes, I am surprised that I haven't heard from him."
"Well, everything is more or less disorganized. Probably he will turn up unexpectedly one day and take you away with him. All indications point to the entrance of Turkey into the war. She has closed the Dardanelles--an ominous sign. Wonckhaus put it about to-day that Paris had fallen. I don't believe it, but the authorities are absolutely hypnotized by the Germans, and Enver Pasha, their tool, seems to be having it all his own way at Constantinople. I hope to get trustworthy information through a courier shortly; I don't believe what they dole out here. If Turkey does enter the war, I shall have to go, of course; and if your father hasn't arrived by that time, you must come away under my safe-conduct."
On leaving the house the consul perceived that the Governor's order to Frank was to be enforced: a sentry was already posted at the gate. He returned for a final word.
"It means that you are practically a prisoner," he said to Frank, "and it will probably be inadvisable that I should be seen coming here. But we can communicate through Joseph. I will make a formal report to our ambassador at Constantinople, who may possibly make a peremptory demand for your release, though while that unfortunate affair with Wonckhaus is stillsub judiceit may be difficult to move. But there's no need to be uneasy."
"That's all very well," replied Frank, "but my business is at an end, and the sooner I can get away the better. I don't think I ought even to wait for my father."
"You must be as patient as you can. In the present state of affairs you would never get your stock across country safely. I'll do all I can, and keep you informed through Joseph how things are shaping."
CHAPTER VI
RIGOUR
It was now the beginning of September. Frank had received no letters from Europe for two or three weeks, nor the parcel of London newspapers which he was accustomed to get by the weekly mail. He suspected that this had been confiscated by the officials. All the news he heard was that given out by the authorities, together with that which was brought him by Joseph, who was in a position to learn more than was common property. His father, Isaac Kopri, the contractor, included in his business organization a private intelligence department. He got important news as a rule long before the general public, and often before the officials themselves. The value of his information of course depended on its source, and his agents could only pass on what was officially given out in the towns where they were stationed, and the unofficial rumours that passed from mouth to mouth. Thus it happened that, even five weeks after the outbreak of war, Frank knew next to nothing of the actual course of events, and, if he had believed what was reported, would have been wretched because Paris and Warsaw were in the hands of the Germans, the British navy was annihilated, all the British colonies in revolt, and London at the mercy of the enemy.
One day, happily, Joseph brought in, hidden in the folds of his garments, a number of London newspapers which had come into the hands of his father. From these Frank learnt that though Belgium was occupied by the Germans, their offensive had been checked in all quarters, and their hope of an easy and a speedy triumph was shattered. What most deeply interested him, however, was the news that Lord Kitchener was creating an immense new army, the ranks of which were being rapidly filled by volunteers from every class and section of the people. This did but increase his eagerness to get away from Erzerum. He longed for the day to come when he might hurry back to England and enlist in what promised to be the first national army that Britain had put into the field since the far-gone days when every citizen was a soldier as a matter of course.
Day by day it grew clearer from Joseph's reports that Germany would drag Turkey into the war. Wonckhaus was constantly at the Governor's house; the Governor's aides-de-camp were frequent visitors to Wonckhaus. The 9th Army Corps was being brought up to full strength, and German officers were drilling the recruits. It was even announced that the Governor himself would shortly be replaced by a German officer of high rank. One morning Joseph announced that Wonckhaus had appeared in the uniform of a major in the Turkish army; it had become known that in his own country he had been a captain of Landwehr. The ostensible merchant had been all along, it was clear, an agent of the German Government.
Weeks passed, irksomely, drearily. No letter came from Mr. Forester. Frank was never allowed to leave his house. Night and day a sentry stood on guard. Frank could take exercise only in his yard and on his roof. He did his best to keep himself in condition by means of gymnastic practice, but he was becoming low-spirited and sick of his life. Ideas of attempting escape often came to him, but were always checked by the thought of his stock, worth several thousands of pounds, which he felt he could not leave to be confiscated. To sell it was impossible. In the present situation no one would buy it; if any one were so rash as to purchase, he would probably be making a present of his money and the goods to the Turkish officials.
Frank's fears in this regard were confirmed by the news brought him one day by Joseph. TheGoebenand theBreslauhad been attacking Russian vessels in the Black Sea. War was certain. A matter that affected Frank more closely was a conversation which Kopri had partially overheard between the new German Governor and Wonckhaus. Frank's name had been mentioned, in what connection Kopri, being ignorant of German, did not know. But he suggested that the authorities were only awaiting a formal declaration of war to seize the Foresters' stock, among other English property. Wonckhaus was well aware of its value, and apart from its usefulness in assisting the Turkish finances, Wonckhaus had a personal grudge to pay off.
This news set Frank in a ferment. Every other consideration was now subordinated in his mind to the question of saving his stock. He was at his wits' end. He consulted with Joseph, but Joseph seemed unable to suggest any likely means. It was only at the end of a long conversation that the Armenian sprang a surprise upon him.
In Erzerum, owing to the constantly recurring troubles, the Armenians have various hiding-places in which they secrete their valuables and occasionally themselves. The whereabouts of these spots is jealously guarded, and it was only when Frank had given up his problem in despair that Joseph divulged a secret locked up in his breast.
"Why on earth didn't you tell me this before?" demanded Frank with some indignation.
Joseph begged for forgiveness on the plea that the secret belonged to his community, and he had his father's permission to reveal it only in the last resort.
"Well, send the servants out of the house on some errand or other, and then show me the place."
The house was an old one, which had played a part in the troubled history of the city. When the servants had been disposed of, Joseph took Frank to one of the lower rooms. The back wall was apparently built against the solid hillside; but a sliding panel, cunningly disguised, gave access to a narrow passage which bent abruptly to the left. Groping his way through this for some distance at Joseph's heels, Frank found himself in a small chamber about eight feet square. He sniffed.
"What is this smell of smoke?" he asked.
"There is a narrow pipe running into the chimney next door," Joseph replied.
"Does Wonckhaus know of it?" asked Frank instantly.
"It is not at all likely. Karamin, who owns this house, probably does not know of it. If he does, he would not tell Wonckhaus. I should not have told you but----"
"Yes, yes; I understand. But this is capital. We can bring here the most valuable part of our stock; it won't do to bring it all, for Wonckhaus would suspect a hiding-place if he found all our things gone. Come, let us do it at once."
Together they worked for an hour or two in transporting the most valuable rugs, including Mirza Aga's, to the secret chamber. When this was done, and the panel replaced, Frank felt exultingly confident that the inevitable search would completely baffle the enemy.
He had not long to wait for confirmation of his faith. October dragged away; on November 2 the streets were filled with excited people, cheering the news that the British and Russian ambassadors had left Constantinople. In anticipation of the outbreak of hostilities troops had been for some days marching eastward and north-eastward towards the Russian frontier and the Caucasus, deluded by their German officers into the belief that Russia had withdrawn the greater part of her forces from Transcaucasia to withstand the German onslaught on Poland, and that they would have an easy task in recovering the ground lost in the war of 1878.
On the same day, a Turkish officer with a file of men came to Frank's house. Leaving the men at the door, he entered.
"I regret, effendim," he said to Frank politely, "that I have orders to arrest you and convey you to the citadel."
"For what reason, and on what charge?" asked Frank.
"Your country and mine are now at war, effendim. As an alien of military age, you cannot remain at large. Besides, there is that matter of blocking the road. The higher authorities at Stamboul have not yet given their decision; but in the meantime the Governor deems it necessary to imprison you. I assure you of my personal regret, and on the Governor's part that your treatment shall be as mild as possible."
Frank did not then know what mildness meant, as interpreted by German military officers. The Turkish lieutenant's politeness and apologetic manner prevented him from feeling any personal resentment at the moment.
While he was gathering a few things together, Wonckhaus came in. The German was so impatient to secure his booty, and possibly to enjoy the spectacle of his victim's humiliation, that he had not waited for Frank's departure. Accompanied by one of his clerks, he hastened to the storeroom, and taking from his pocket a list of the stock, obtained Frank knew not how, began to call over the items.
"You take an inventory for the purpose of safeguarding my property and returning it at the end of the war, I presume," said Frank to the Turk.
"That I know nothing about," was the answer. "The Governor will no doubt do everything in order. Are you ready, effendim?"
"In a minute or two, if you don't mind waiting until Major Wonckhaus has completed his task."
Wonckhaus's voice could be heard from the storeroom.
"The rug of Shiraz, 16 by 12. Where is that? Not here? And the Khorassan rug of Mirza Aga. Not here? But it must be here. It has not been sold. It has not been removed. Pull down that big Ispahan carpet; it may be under that."
A few minutes passed. Wonckhaus was growing furious. He uttered a resounding German curse.
"Come, we must search the house," he cried.
He returned to the room where Frank stood, glared at him savagely, glanced around, and assuring himself that the rugs on the floor were of no great value, proceeded to a systematic search of the premises. He ransacked every room, and went so far as to strip the roof of its turf. But nowhere could he find the Khorassan rug of Mirza Aga, or several other rugs representing some tens of thousands of German marks.
Frank, in spite of his situation, was amused. Wonckhaus, he thought, could hardly show his hand so completely as to demand information about property which was in no way his concern, and his rage and air of bafflement when he returned to the lower room was certainly comical to witness. Frank's amusement would have been less if he could have foreseen what the discrepancy between the actual stock and the list was to cost him.
Plunder was Wonckhaus's object, and, to Frank's surprise--he did not yet know German shamelessness---Wonckhaus now made no secret of it. He went to the office desk, wrenched it open--"He might at least have asked for the key," thought Frank--and examined the stock book. He wheeled round.
"The stock is short," he cried. "What have you done with the goods?"
Frank looked at him with a smile, but said nothing.
"Do you hear?" shouted Wonckhaus, the charm of manner which had won him a certain popularity among the Europeans dropping from him like a loosened garment. "What have you done with the goods?"
Frank turned to the Turkish officer.
"Major Wonckhaus is curious about my business," he said. "I have no information to give."
Wonckhaus blustered. He roared at Joseph, who had been standing silent in the background.
"You fellow, where are the rugs? What have you done with them?"
"I am my master's servant," said Joseph quietly.
"And your father's son!" cried the German. "You will tell me instantly what I want to know, or you will find yourself laid by the heels, and the army will have another contractor."
Wonckhaus had lost his temper, or he would have reflected that a change of contractors at this critical moment was out of the question. Joseph was shrewd enough to perceive the emptiness of his threat, and merely replied that he could say nothing without his master's orders.
At this moment, while Wonckhaus was glaring with baffled rage at Frank and his faithful clerk, a non-commissioned officer came in.
"A message from the Governor, effendim," he said to the lieutenant. "The Englishman is to be kept a prisoner in the upper storey of this house, the lower storey will be occupied by his guards."
To Frank this was very agreeable news. He had felt unhappy at the prospect of being shut up in the common prison, or even in the soldiers' prison at the citadel: Turkish jails are unsavoury places. In his own house he would at least be able to keep clean. Moreover, he would then be able, in a sense, to watch over his carpets. The hiding-place could hardly be discovered without his hearing of it, and there would be a certain satisfaction in knowing that his property was still safe, or, if it were found, in learning definitely what had become of it. He afterwards discovered that the change of plan was due to the British consul, who had learnt of the order for his arrest when he applied for a passport for him, and had obtained this indulgence from the Governor.
Frank noticed that Wonckhaus also appeared to get some satisfaction from the change. The German made no further attempt to obtain the information he desired, and left the house. Frank was taken upstairs and locked in his own bedroom. Joseph, however, was marched off by a couple of the soldiers, and it was some few days before Frank learnt what had become of him.
CHAPTER VII
TEMPTATION
Frank felt that while things might have been worse, they were quite bad enough. The ostensible reason of his imprisonment being that he was of military age, he foresaw the possibility of his remaining a prisoner until the end of the war--perhaps a year, for while he had a great respect for Germany's military power, he did not think it likely that she could withstand the forces of the Triple Entente for more than twelve months.
At first he had no great hardship to endure. His own servants had been dismissed, but he had been given as personal attendant an old Arab named Hussein who combined the natural courtesy of his race with another Eastern characteristic--a keen appetite for bakshish. Frank had been allowed to keep his ready money, and was thus able to purchase many comforts to supplement the prisoner's fare supplied him. Hussein, of course, made a handsome profit out of every transaction in which he was thus employed, and Frank soon saw the necessity of self-restraint, for money would not last for ever, and there was no chance of obtaining more.
Hussein was talkative and intelligent, always polite, and, Frank suspected, sly. It was from him that Frank learnt, after a few days, that Joseph had been released from the common jail and had left the town. The Turks were straining every nerve to collect supplies for their campaign in the Caucasus, and Joseph's father the contractor was too useful a man to be alienated. It was not long before Frank had proof of Hussein's slyness.
"The days are getting colder, effendim," he said one day. "There was snow in the night."
"Very uncomfortable for the army," said Frank.
"True. Our winter is very long, very bitter. It is not so in your country, effendim?"
"Not so bitter, perhaps, but quite as long as we like it."
"Wallahy! This country is not a healthy place for Englishmen in the winter. Hundreds of them have left Turkey, so it is told me. Of a truth Turkey is not a healthy place for them now! A pity you are not gone too, effendim."
"Well, I am certainly not here by my own wish."
"A wish is the father of an action, effendim. You have but to wish, and----"
"What are you driving at?" said Frank as the Arab paused.
"There was a man of Trebizond who being falsely accused and unjustly cast into prison, nevertheless after taking thought confessed with tears that he was guilty of that crime; whereupon the heart of his jailer was softened and his hand was opened to receive the slight gifts that were the tokens of the prisoner's repentance, and within a little that man was free, and able to sin again or to lead a virtuous life as so pleased him."
"A parable, Hussein?" said Frank with a smile.
"For the ears of the wise, effendim. Wallahy! what are a man's goods in comparison with his freedom?"
"Which being interpreted means that you will let me go in exchange for what you call a few slight gifts?"
"Truly such gifts, here a little, there a little, will unlock prison doors and unbar city gates. But there is first one small matter, and that is that you breathe in my ear the nook where those few paltry rugs lie hid. Wallahy! what are a few threads of wool against the open road and the boundless sky?"
"Oho, friend Hussein! I must contrive a double debt to pay, is that it? The pipe sings sweetly when the fowler is snaring a bird, but this particular bird, I assure you, is not to be snared. You will waste your breath, Hussein."
"Allah is great!" said the Arab, as he made the salam and left the room.
A few days passed. Frank noticed that there was a slight deterioration in the quality of his food. Then one morning he had a visit from Wonckhaus.
"Good-morning, Mr. Forester," said the German pleasantly. "What an unfortunate thing this is!"
Frank made no answer. After a pause the German went on:
"We have been rivals in business, and now, through an unfortunate misunderstanding between our Governments, we are enemies. But the enmity is official, not personal, I assure you. We have crossed each other in business, but business men do not quarrel. And there is one circumstance that should make us friends. After all, you and I are Europeans among Orientals; that is a bond between us; and you will not take amiss advice honestly given by one European to another. You may not credit it" (Frank didn't), "but up to the present I have stood between the Turks and you. But for me your life would not have been worth a snap. Now I am about to leave the city for the front. The Turkish army, led by German officers, is about to deal a smashing blow to the barbarous Russians in the Caucasus, and to occupy Batum. Before I leave, it would give me great pleasure to see you in a safer position. It merely needs the exercise of your capital English principle of give-and-take. Why not disclose the whereabouts of your useless stock? In return, I would contrive that you should be sent to Constantinople and ultimately released."
Frank did not speak. His fingers were drumming on the table, his eyes fixed on the German's.
"I merely drop you a friendly hint," Wonckhaus resumed. "Things are looking very serious. The Turks are making a beginning with the Armenians: when the appetite for blood is whetted, they may easily fail to discriminate between Armenians and other enemies. You will not forget that you are in a very remote place. Erzerum is not Constantinople. Take a friend's advice and get back to civilisation. I will act as a go-between. If you will confide in me, I will make your peace with the Turks."
"What guarantee do you offer?" asked Frank, opening his lips at last.
"My word; you will not require more; the word of a German and an officer."
"But surely, Herr Wonckhaus, unless I am mistaken your word has not hitherto been accepted even by your allies the Turks. Pardon me for asking what has happened to give it value."
"You insult me!" snapped the German.
"Really I don't think so; I merely state a fact. You offer me something of no value as security for something of considerable value. That is not a business proposition."
Wonckhaus, stung as much by Frank's scornful tone as by his words, flushed darkly, and took a step forward, laying his hand on his sword.
"You English swine!" he cried. "You dare to insult me--me, an officer of the Kaiser?"
Frank had sprung up, and seized the handiest weapon available--a small three-legged stool. Keeping the table between himself and the German, he grasped the stool by one leg, and said:
"Keep your distance!"
Wonckhaus, whether daunted by Frank's threatening attitude or for some reason of policy, stood still, glaring venomously. Then he banged his half-drawn sword into its scabbard, and swung round. At the door he turned suddenly.
"Before your English carcase is flung to the dogs of Erzerum," he sputtered, "you will have time to--to repent your insolence."
He swung round again, slammed the door behind him, ordered Hussein outside to lock it, and clattered down the steps.
Frank dropped the stool and sat down, smiling at the feeble end of the German's explosive sentence. But the smile soon passed. His English spirit would not allow him to be cowed by Wonckhaus's threat, but remembering his isolated situation he could not help feeling uneasy. It was well for his peace of mind that he was not aware of what German frightfulness had already accomplished in Belgium.
It was not long before he began to feel the effects of Wonckhaus's malice. The cold weather had set in, and the Armenian winter is excessively cold. His apartment had been warmed by a nargal or charcoal stove. This was not replenished.
"The fire has gone out," he said to the Arab, when he brought his dinner.
"Fuel is very dear, effendim."
"I have still some money; I will pay."
"It cannot be bought, effendim. It is all required for the troops, who are slaying tens of thousands of Russians in the bleak mountains."
"Buy me some blankets, then."
"That also is impossible, effendim. Our brave soldiers need all the blankets in the frosty heights. Why does not your nobility send for those wasted rugs?"
The man's sly look made Frank itch to thrash him. It was clear from his manner that he was acting under instructions. Frank noticed, too, that his food was being reduced in quantity as well as poorer in quality, and suspected that this was directly due to Wonckhaus; the Turks as a rule do not treat their prisoners inhumanely. More than once he had thought of trying to escape, and with his increasing hardships his mind recurred to it again and again. To get out of the building might not be very difficult; Orientals are notoriously slack in guard; the lock of his room might be forced, and the soldiers in the rooms below evaded. But then the real difficulties would begin. He would be recognised in the streets as a European; even before he could reach the walls discovery and arrest were certain. Escape was impossible without assistance from outside, and he had no means of communicating with friends, nor was it probable that any European friends remained in the town.
Tortured by cold and hunger, Frank spent the most wretched month of his life during December. Strong though he was in constitution, he felt that he was growing weaker. For a time he tried to keep himself in condition by daily physical exercises; but insufficient food and lack of fresh air--he was allowed to mount to the roof for an hour a day--gradually reduced his energy. There was nothing to alleviate the tedium of his imprisonment: no newspapers, no books, nothing to occupy his mind. He was often tempted to purchase his freedom by surrendering his secret; but his native resolution and the mental picture of Wonckhaus's triumph kept him steadfast. And it was no ordinary will that could have withstood day after day Hussein's sly reminders of how easy it would be to command all the comforts he lacked.
One day early in January he heard unusual sounds on the staircase--a series of heavy clumping blows slowly ascending towards his room. The door opened, and Wonckhaus hobbled in on a crutch, assisted by an orderly, who stood in the doorway as if on guard, motionless, with expressionless face. The German looked pale and worn. He was swathed in heavy furs.
"I had not thought to revisit you so soon, Mr. Forester," he said, "but a Russian bullet has enforced me to return to the city for a short time, and I felt bound to see how you were faring."
Frank was silent; he was, in fact, amazed that Wonckhaus should have cared to show his face again after what had passed at their last interview. "The Germans must have uncommonly tough hides," he thought.
"Is there anything I can do for your comfort?" Wonckhaus continued. "You are not looking very well. I have some influence, a very little, with the Turks."
The German's manner was so subdued, his tone so courteous, that Frank wondered whether after all he had misjudged him. Perhaps he had been over hasty; perhaps there was some decent feeling in the man, which his own uncompromising attitude had prevented from showing itself before.
"I want warmth and good food," he said.
"Not warm enough?" exclaimed Wonckhaus. "Yet it does not appear cold. Indeed, I am too warm." He unloosed his fur coat. "And food, too; why, what do they give you?"
Frank saw that the German was playing with him. In a revulsion of feeling he flushed hotly, and was about to give utterance to his thoughts, but he restrained himself with an effort and remained silent.
"Call Hussein," said Wonckhaus to the orderly, whom Frank had seen without observing.
The Arab entered. The orderly followed him, and stood in the background. Frank just glanced at him, and was surprised to see him raise a finger to his lips, then drop his hand quickly and stand motionless as before, looking, however, hard at Frank. Wonckhaus and the Arab had turned towards each other, or they might have noticed the slight start and the enquiring glance into which Frank had been surprised by the orderly's movement.
"The effendi complains of his food," said Wonckhaus. "What does he get?"
While Hussein, with a look of sly enjoyment, was retailing the list of the meagre rations supplied, the orderly drew from his tunic a watch, apparently of cheap European or American make. He did not look at it, but held it up, then glanced at the window in the wall above his head on the left. Wonckhaus, following Frank's eyes, turned round. The orderly was affecting to look at the time.
"You surprise me, Hussein," said the German. "The diet is more than liberal. How often during the past month should I and my brave men have been grateful for such rations! Ah! these luxurious English! They have lived on the fat of the land. And what is the result? They are degenerate; they have fed the body and starved the mind. They are learning their mistake. That will do, Hussein."
The Arab left the room. The orderly returned the watch to his pocket, holding it significantly suspended by the chain for a moment. Then he stared straight in front of him, unintelligent, impassive.
"Well now, Mr. Forester," said Wonckhaus, "the lot of a prisoner can never be quite comfortable, though it is preferable to the hard lot of the fighting man. If you feel discomfort, the remedy is in your own hands. I need not repeat the explanations which you received so churlishly at our last meeting. I will give you another week for reflection. At the end of that time--well, we shall see!"