Moïse introduced me: “This is Ihsan Bey.”
“Chôk eyi” (very good), I said, and grasping the doctor’s hand I pumped it up and down in the manner of one greeting an old friend, as O’Farrell had told me to do. He grinned, and told me to sit down.
“The Doctor Bey has a few questions to ask you,” said Moïse.
“Certainly,” I said. “But first I have something to say to him.” I launched into a very long and confused story of how I had been deceived in the dark into believing that the hospital was a hotel, demanded that the mistake be rectified at once, and that I be taken to the best hotel in Pera as befitted a friend of Enver Pasha. The Yozgad Commandant, I said, would be very angry when he knew what Moïse had done, for I was a person of consequence in Turkey, and was going to see the Sultan. I would answer no questions until I got to the hotel—and so forth, and so on.
The doctor explained that this was the usual procedure—everybody who wanted to see Enver Pasha had to be examined first on certain points. I then told him to fire away with his questions.
He consulted a bulky file of documents (amongst which I noticed the report of Kiazim Bey) and began filling up the regulation hospital form.
“Your name,” he said, writing busily, “is Jones, lieutenant of Artillery.”
“No,” I said, “that’s wrong! If that’s for Enver Pasha it won’t do! My name used to be Jones, but I’ve changed it. I’m going to be a Turk,—a Miralai first and then a Pasha.”
“I see,” said Ihsan. “What’s your name now?”
“Hassan oghlou Ahmed Pasha,” said I earnestly.[[51]]