then, no doubt, all the nations
will."

"But you have the Germans--" I began.

"Hush, hush," said Abdul, laying his hand on my arm.
"Some one might hear."

"You have the Germans," I repeated.

"The Germans," said Abdul, and his voice sounded in a
queer sing-song like that of a child repeating a lesson,
"are my noble friends, the Germans are my powerful allies,
the Kaiser is my good brother, the Reichstag is my
foster-sister. I love the Germans. I hate the English.
I love the Kaiser. The Kaiser loves me--"

"Stop, stop, Abdul," I said, "who taught you all that?"

Abdul looked cautiously around.

"_They_ did," he said in a whisper. "There's a lot more
of it. Would you like me to recite some more? Or, no,
no, what's the good? I've no heart for reciting any
longer." And at this Abdul fell to weeping again.

"But, Abdul," I said, "I don't understand. Why are you
so distressed just now? All this has been going on for
over two years. Why are you so worried just now?"

"Oh," exclaimed the little Sultan in surprise, "you
haven't heard! I see--you've only just arrived. Why,
to-day is the last day. After to-day it is all over."

"Last day for what?" I asked.

"For intervention. For the intervention of the United
States. The only thing that can save us. It was to have
come to-day, by the end of this full moon--our astrologers
had predicted it--Smith Pasha, Minister under Heaven of
the United States, had promised, if it came, to send it
to us at the earliest moment. How do they send it, do
you know, in a box, or in paper?"

"Stop," I said as my ear caught the sound of footsteps.
"There's some one coming now."

The sound of slippered feet was distinctly heard on the
stones in the outer corridor.

Abdul listened intently a moment.

"I know his slippers," he said.

"Who is it?"

"It is my chief secretary, Toomuch Koffi. Yes, here he
comes."

As the Sultan spoke, the doors swung open and there
entered an aged Turk, in a flowing gown and coloured
turban, with a melancholy yellow face, and a long white
beard that swept to his girdle.

"Who do you say he is?" I whispered to Abdul.

"My chief secretary," he whispered back. "Toomuch Koffi."

"He looks like it," I murmured.

Meantime, Toomuch Koffi had advanced across the broad
flagstones of the hall where we were sitting. With hands
lifted he salaamed four times--east, west, north, and
south.

"What does that mean?" I whispered.

"It means," said the S