"vanished hands" that had passed from earth for ever.

"Philanthropic societies," said the secretary, "have done great things
for Turkey and for Russia too. Had it not been for the timely aid sent
out by the charitable people in England and other countries, it is
certain that many thousands of these refugees would already have been in
their graves."

I did not like the tone or looks of this secretary. He was an oily man,
with a touch of sarcasm.

"Doubtless there are many of them," I returned sharply, "who wish that
they had fallen with their kindred. But you say truth: the
tender-hearted and liberal ones of England and elsewhere have done
something to mitigate the horrors of war, and yet there is a party among
us who would draw the sword, if they were allowed, and add to the number
of these wretched refugees. A pretty spectacle of consistency, truly,
is presented by war! If we English were to join the Turks, as of course
you wish us to do, and help you to maintain your misrule, to say nothing
of the massacres which have been and still are going on around us, we
should have to keep our philanthropic societies at work still longer,
and thus we should be seen cutting men down with one hand and binding
them up with the other,--roaring like fiends as we slaughter sires, and
at the same time, with the same voice, softly comforting widows and
fatherless children. Oh, sir, if there is a phrase of mockery on the
face of this earth, it is the term `civilised warfare'!"

Before the secretary had time to reply the Pasha entered, accompanied by
Lancey.

"Mr Childers," said the Pasha, sitting down on a cushion beside me, "I
have managed it at last, though not without difficulty, but when a man
wants to help an old school-mate in distress he is not easily put down.
You have to thank Lancey for anything I have done for you. There is, it
seems, to be an exchange of prisoners soon, and I have managed that you
and Lancey shall be among the number. You must be ready to take the
road to-morrow."

I thanked the Pasha heartily, but expressed surprise that one in so
exalted a position should have found difficulty in the matter.

"Exalted!" he exclaimed, with a look of scorn, "I'm so exalted as to
have very narrowly missed having my head cut off. Bah! there is no
gratitude in a Turk--at least in a Turkish grandee."

I ventured to suggest that the Pasha was in his own person a flat--or
rather sturdy--contradiction of his own