“For three days all went well. We were nearing the end of our journey, without having met with any hindrances; only a few miles more lay between us and the frontier, which we planned to cross during the night. When the full moon was up, we set out, and made our way very cautiously across a marsh, leading our horses by the bridles, and attentive to the slightest sound. The hoot of a screech-owl startled us, and as we stopped, in momentary hesitation, the sound of a pistol-shot rang out, and a bullet went whistling over Puzant’s head. We could hesitate no longer; we were discovered, so we left our good horses, regretfully, and took to our heels, rushing madly forward. It was a wild chase. In the darkness we had many a slip and fall, and our hands and faces were torn by thorns. Our enemies were in hot pursuit, and shooting at random, guided by the sound of our voices. Our strength was spent: then, at last, we heard the sound of rushing water; it was the stream that separates the two countries. We sprang forward and leaped into the surging waters—we set foot on the other side! As a response to our shout of joy, came a howl of rage and five pistol-shots. I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder: the bullet had entered the flesh, but I nerved myself to bear the pain, for liberty was opening her arms to me. We soon disappeared behind the rocks; we were saved, for our enemies would not dare follow us on Persian territory.
“What more shall I tell you? We had come to the end of our adventures, and the rest of the journey was child’s play. After resting a few days in the village, where the hodja dressed my wound and applied a healing balm, we resumed our journey to Tabriz, no longer on foot, but by carriage, and in broad daylight.
“I have found again the generous friends of whom I spoke to you: Doctor Harontounian and the Vartabet (priest) Gerdulian. They got work for Puzant with an Armenian weaver. As for me, the hour has again struck for my departure, and I leave by automobile for Djoulfa to-morrow; there, I shall take the train for Tiflis, where I expect to stay several weeks. Then I shall go to Bulgaria to rejoin Andranick. I take leave of you, my friends: thank you again and again, and, if God so pleases, may we meet again.
“Yours devotedly,
“Rupen.”
“Shall we ever see that brave fellow again?” said Archag.
“Why not?” replied Aram. “We’ll run away to Europe and join him,” he whispered in his friend’s ear.
The dormitory was now full of boys, and it was necessary to guard their speech. Archag put the letter back in his pocket, and went over to the window, where he began to chat with Samouīl.
“What’s the matter with you?” he asked, observing his friend’s pallor.