“‘Hola, Jousif, Raschid, Hamid! Seize this dog!’
“In an instant I was thrown to the ground, and bound fast; then my tormentors took me to an underground room and double-locked the door. I was convinced that my last hour had struck, and resigned myself to my fate, but as the days slipped by I began to wonder, from curiosity, rather than fear, what they were going to do with me. Every evening the door of my prison was opened, and a hand passed me a jug of water and some bread. The continued suspense began to weigh upon me. Five days had now passed since the catastrophe. I was lying in a troubled sleep, when a slight sound made me wake up with a start.
“‘Don’t stir,’ replied a voice, ‘it is a friend.’
“‘A friend? Then I have not been forgotten?’
“‘No; I am an Armenian like yourself, and all the sons of Haīk are brothers. Everything is ready for our flight; there is not a moment to lose. Come.’
“We went out of the cellar, and I breathed in the pure night air with delight. The watch dog gave a threatening growl when he saw us, but as soon as he recognized my companion he became quiet and wagged his tail with joy. Two horses were waiting for us, with a pistol attached to each saddle. We mounted them and soon disappeared in the night. I waved my arms for joy; I was free; fortune was smiling on me again.
“As we galloped along over a by-way, my companion told me his story. His name was Puzant, and he was the son of Armenian farming people. When he was twelve years old, the Kurds plundered his village, his parents were killed, and he himself was taken prisoner and sold as a slave. The same old story, so common in Armenia.
“My host had bought him, and converted him to the Mussulman faith, giving him the name of Hamid. The child became a youth; he was diligent, and apparently submissive and attached to his master, but he had not forgotten; he steadfastly cherished the purpose of fulfilling the oath of revenge which he had taken before his dying father.
“When my disguise was discovered, he made a vow to set me free and at the same time to regain his own liberty. Fate had favored him, for Rhasoul Khan, instead of cutting my throat immediately, had sent one of his men to fetch zaptiehs from the neighboring town. This delay had given Puzant time to get everything in readiness for our flight. First he put poison in the Kurd’s rhaki (liquor) and that of his men; then he saddled the horses, took arms and ammunition, and finally opened the door of my prison. The zaptiehs could not reach the farm before morning; we had Rhasoul Khan’s best horses, and at least six hours’ start.