"Yes, and to Miss Celandine. And they both advise me to go home."
Kevork turned a startled face to him. "But there is no use in thinking of it," he said quickly. "They would not give you a passport, after what you have done."
"That is just what I said. There is no blood upon my conscience, but upon my hand there is blood enough. Were I to apply, as things are now, for a passport, my antecedents would be looked into, and I should never be allowed to leave this land alive."
"They would never kill an Englishman," said Gabriel.
"Not openly in broad daylight, but in one way or another, I should disappear."
"So I think," said Kevork eagerly. "You must run no such risks as that, my brother."
"Dr. Sandeman has a different plan," Jack said. "That fine young fellow, Vahanian, wants to stay here to be with Baron Vartonian, and to help among the wounded. What if I took his passport, and went to Aleppo in his place?"
"You would be found out."
"The doctor thinks not. He almost undertakes to put me safely through. I can dye my hair and stain my face a little. Not much will be needed, so well your suns have browned me."
"Then, Yon Effendi, your mind is to leave us," Kevork said sorrowfully, almost bitterly.