"I like to hear that," said the Mudir.
"So do I," said each one of the assembled guests, taking the cue from the governor.
"Will England be our ally in the case of war?" asked the Cadi.
"I do not know, but I hope so."
Some one now entered and spoke a few words to the Mudir. The latter left the room: he was followed by the rest of the visitors, with the exception of the Armenian priest.
"How do you like the Turks?" I asked.
"Very well," replied the old man, at the same time blowing his nose in his dressing-gown, pocket handkerchiefs being apparently unknown in this part of Turkey. "Here," he added, "the population is half Armenian and half Turk, this makes a considerable difference. In other villages, where the Mohammedans outnumber the Christians, the latter sometimes suffer."
"What do you mean by suffer? Are they tortured?"
"No, never," replied the priest, "but if a Turk were to strike an Armenian, and the latter were to hit him back, all the Turks in the neighbourhood would set upon the Christian. Then, if the Christian should complain to the Mudir, the Turk would bring witnesses to say that the Armenian called him the grandson or great-grandson of a dog. The Christian's word would not be taken as evidence. But things are much better than they used to be, and here we get on well with the Mussulmans."
My English servant was very much excited that evening. At dinner-time he put down my plate with a bang on the table, and every now and then looked at Osman with an air of supreme contempt.