hich Moellendorff looked daggers. They were so bitter
about Britain and all her works that I gathered they were getting
pretty panicky, and that made me as jolly as a sandboy. I'm afraid I
was not free from bitterness myself on that subject. I said things
about my own country that I sometimes wake in the night and sweat to
think of.

Gaudian got on to the use of water power in war, and that gave me a
chance.

'In my country,' I said, 'when we want to get rid of a mountain we wash
it away. There's nothing on earth that will stand against water. Now,
speaking with all respect, gentlemen, and as an absolute novice in the
military art, I sometimes ask why this God-given weapon isn't more used
in the present war. I haven't been to any of the fronts, but I've
studied them some from maps and the newspapers. Take your German
position in Flanders, where you've got the high ground. If I were a
British general I reckon I would very soon make it no sort of position.'

Moellendorff asked, 'How?'

'Why, I'd wash it away. Wash away the fourteen feet of soil down to
the stone. There's a heap of coalpits behind the British front where
they could generate power, and I judge there's ample water supply from
the rivers and canals. I'd guarantee to wash you away in twenty-four
hours--yes, in spite of all your big guns. It beats me why the British
haven't got on to this notion. They used to have some bright
engineers.'

Enver was on the point like a knife, far quicker than Gaudian. He
cross-examined me in a way that showed he knew how to approach a
technical subject, though he mightn't have much technical knowledge.
He was just giving me a sketch of the flooding in Mesopotamia when an
aide-de-camp brought in a chit which fetched him to his feet.

'I have gossiped long enough,' he said. 'My kind host, I must leave
you. Gentlemen all, my apologies and farewells.'

Before he left he asked my name and wrote it down. 'This is an
unhealthy city for strangers, Mr Hanau,' he said in very good English.
'I have some small power of protecting a friend, and what I have is at
your disposal.' This with the condescension of a king promising his
favour to a subject.

The little fellow amused me tremendously, and rather impressed me too.
I said so to Gaudian after he had left, but that decent soul didn't
agree.

'I do not love him,' he said. 'We are allies--yes; but friends--no. He
is no true son of Islam, which is a noble faith a