She thought I was frightened, and came over and smoothed my hair. “Of course you didn’t kill him; but he is much the worse for the beating you gave him.”
Then I wept bitterly in utter contempt for myself at having failed in such a small task as killing just a little Turkish boy. Years afterwards, when I accidentally found myself in the midst of the Armenian massacres, I could appreciate probably better than most spectators the feeling of racial antipathy which gloried in the shedding of blood.
CHAPTER IX
I AM REMINDED OF MY SONS AGAIN
THE little girl who made the fourth of our group was Nashan, whom I met under peculiar circumstances.
My father was in the habit of taking me with him whenever he went for a long walk. Generally other men went with us, and their conversation consisted of politics, a subject which delighted me especially, though I could but half understand it.
On one such day, we were walking on the St Nicholas Road, which was long and wide, with the hills on one side, scattered cypress trees and the sea on the other. The sun was setting, the heat of the day was calming; and the Sea of Marmora, roused by the breeze, was rhythmically lapping the shore, and adding freshness to the hour.
My father as usual was discussing politics with another Greek, and I, my hoop over my shoulder, was holding fast to one of his long fingers, while my little feet heroically tried to keep step with the big feet beside them.
At a turn in the road we came upon a group of Turks, preceded by a little girl, seated astride a richly caparisoned donkey whose head was covered with blue beads. She herself fairly outshone the donkey in gorgeousness. I knew her by sight, as children know each other, and she always aroused the liveliest interest in me on account of her costumes. I never wore any thing myself except simple white linen, with an English sailor hat, my sole gold adornment the name of her majesty’s dreadnought on its ribbon.
The first time I encountered her, I had almost yelled at her, thinking she was dressed up for fun, but the calm dignity with which she had worn her ridiculous attire had convinced me that these were indeed her usual clothes.