“Iashasoun padishah! Iashasoun padishah!” repeated the boys in chorus.
The fédaī broke out with their war song:
“Fight on, ye children, bravely, ever bravely,
Fearless before the enemy we stand.”
All the boys, together with Badvili Melikian and Mihran hodja, joined the fédaī in this song. They were free! The reality was more beautiful than their boldest dreams had pictured it. God had answered the prayers of the Armenians!
Archag, Aram, Garabed and Nejib started off at once for town. Over every house floated the red flag with the white crescent; cannon shots were fired from the old Cathedral, and an extraordinary excitement prevailed in the streets. The people were shouting, singing and weeping for joy; Mullahs[1] and Gregorian priests were embracing one another. The most ferocious of the Mussulmans had forgotten their old hatred of Christian infidels: to-day all were brothers.
“In our empire,” said a vartabed (Gregorian priest) “there will no longer be Turks, Greeks, Albanians, Armenians, Syrians and Arabs. No, there will be only Ottomans, now!”
Two dervishes (Mussulman monks), delirious with joy, bore the priest off in triumph. The Turkish women had taken off their veils, and waved them as they sang. All Turkey was quivering with the same generous emotion. The words “Equality” and “Fraternity” intoxicated the men like strong wine. Alas; we are to see how bitter was the awakening and how great the disillusionment!
“It seems too good to be true,” said Garabed.
“Yes,” said Archag, “for years the Armenians have been groaning and dying under the yoke of the Mussulman, and now the deliverance has come suddenly, when nobody was expecting it any more. No bloodshed, as in the French Revolution; no frenzied demagogues, ready to become tyrants themselves! We have forgotten Abdul’s crimes; now we have only to remember the favor he is granting us.”