Getting into an enemy country in war time is always difficult; but getting out of it is frequently precarious. I began to fear that I was being watched in Constantinople. The German system of watching is simple and effective. If the suspect be of sufficient importance three or four detectives are told off to follow his movements continuously, but one at a time. He is, therefore, not likely to recognise his watcher as would be the case if one man only were detailed for the duty.
Intuitively I felt that the few very innocent and harmless, but to me very important, papers I had with me were being subjected to examination in my room at the hotel. As a precaution I rearranged them, carefully noting the order in which they lay. When next I returned to the hotel in the evening my suspicions were confirmed—my papers had obviously been disturbed. It might, of course, have been mere curiosity on the part of the Greek servants, but I remembered that these same servants work hand and glove with the police or military authorities. Accordingly, I determined to get away with all possible expedition.
At that time it was announced in the very attenuated Constantinople newspapers that the Kaiser was going to Belgrade. The movements of the German Emperor on the Continent are as much of a puzzle to his own people and his allies as they are to the subjects of the Entente Powers. There were in Constantinople, too, the same rumours as to his ill-health which had been spread throughout Europe. On the other hand, there was the definite statement that he was coming East. The desire to see him face to face, if possible, and also the wish to get out of Constantinople, set me to work planning how most speedily to effect my purpose.
I bethought myself of Halil Bey, the Foreign Minister, who had so kindly secured for me an interview with Enver Pasha. To my surprise the old man saw me at once. His is a very different reception-room from that of his colleague, Enver. Gloomy, miserable, without electric light or even an oil lamp, and lit only by candles, it was far from the sort of room that one would expect to be occupied by a Minister of Foreign Affairs. It was, however, another evidence of the good work of the Roumanians in cutting off the coal supply of Constantinople.
I explained to Halil that it was my great desire to do myself the honour of seeing, if possible, the All-Highest War Lord, and that I wished to leave Constantinople for Belgrade. Halil Bey, in common with every other Turk, was in high spirits over the Gallipoli evacuation, and after a little judicious flattery as to his enormous powers, I succeeded in obtaining a letter to the Prefect of Police at Stamboul, and in order that he should see me instantly Halil gave me his card, which is reproduced below.
Halil Bey’s Card
I lost no time in securing one of the few public carriages that are to be had in the city, and made my way behind the thinnest pair of horses imaginable to the Prefecture of Police. It was rather like entering the lion’s den, but it had to be done. If the police were really suspicious of me I should not be very long left in doubt.
I was a little disturbed to hear from the Prefect that the only way of getting out of Constantinople to Belgrade was by a German military train. The first Balkan Express which was to link up Constantinople with Berlin and Vienna, was not due to start for a day or two, and as I felt disinclined to wait for it, I determined to push on to Belgrade and join the Balkan Express there. This would give me a short time in which to examine that town, which, as I have said, I was most anxious to see. I mentioned to the Prefect that I had been honoured by Enver Pasha with an interview, and that I felt sure His Excellency would do anything in his power to facilitate my movements.