beyond the ordinary. We let the Syrians take
their rifles and some ammunition with them, because Abraham said
they might be called on perhaps to help defend the mission.

Not long after that, we let our Kurds go, giving up our Turkish
officer prisoners and Tugendheim as well. We all knew by that time
what our final goal was, and Tugendheim begged to be allowed to go
with us all the way. But Ranjoor Singh refused him.

"I promised you to the Kurd, and the Kurd will trade you to Wassmuss
against his brother," he said. "Tell Wassmuss whatever lies you
like, and make your peace with your own folk however you can. Here
is your paper back."

Tugendheim took the paper. (You remember, sahib, he had signed a
receipt in conjunction with the Turkish mate and captain of that
ship in which we escaped from Stamboul.) Well, he took the paper
back, and burned it in the little fire by which I was sitting facing
Ranjoor Singh.

"Let me go with you!" he urged. "It will be rope or bullet for me if
ever I get back to Germany!"

"Nevertheless," said Ranjoor Singh, "I promised to deliver you to
Wassmuss when we made you prisoner in the first place. I must keep
my word to you!"

"I release you from your word to me!" said Tugendheim.

"And I promised you to the Kurdish chief."

"The Kurdish chief?" said Tugendheim. "What of him? What of it? Why,
why, why--he is a savage--scarcely human--not to be weighed in the
scales against a civilized man! What does such a promise as that
amount to?" And he stood tugging at his mustaches as if he would
tear them out.

"I have some gold left," said Ranjoor Singh, when he was sure
Tugendheim had no more to say, "and I had seriously thought of
buying you for gold from these Kurds. There may be one of them who
would take on himself the responsibility of speaking for his chief.
But since you hold my given word so light as that I must look more
nearly to my honor. Nay, go with the Kurds, Sergeant Tugendheim!"

Tugendheim made a great wail. He begged for this, and he begged for
that. He begged us to give him a letter to Wassmuss explaining that
we had compelled him by threats of torture. He begged for gold. And
Ranjoor Singh gave him a little gold. Some of us put in a word for
him, for on that long journey he had told many a tale to make us
laugh. He had suffered with us. He had helped us more than a little
by drilling the Syrians, and often his presence with us had saved
our skins by convincing Turk