Despite this I made another plea for Dr. McNaughton.
“He’s not American,” said Talaat, “he’s a Canadian.”
“It’s almost the same thing,” I said.
“Well,” replied Talaat, “if I let him go, will you promise that the United States will annex Canada?”
“I promise,” said I, and we both laughed at this little joke.
“Every time you come here,” Talaat finally said, “you always steal something from me. All right, you can have your McNaughton!”
Certainly this interview was not an encouraging beginning, so far as the Armenians were concerned. But Talaat was not always in an “Ayoub Sabri mood.” He went from one emotion to another as lightly as a child; I would find him fierce and unyielding one day, and uproariously good-natured and accommodating the next. Prudence indicated, therefore, that I should await one of his more congenial moments before approaching him on the subject that aroused all the barbarity in his nature. Such an opportunity was soon presented. One day, soon after the interview chronicled above, I called on Talaat again. The first thing he did was to open his desk and pull out a handful of yellow cablegrams.
“Why don’t you give this money to us?” he said, with a grin.
“What money?” I asked.
“Here is a cablegram for you from America, sending you a lot of money for the Armenians. You ought not to use it that way; give it to us Turks, we need it as badly as they do.”