"It is your last word of proud defiance to all your enemies," said the Marshal.
"No, no," whined Abdul. "Not defiance; they might not understand."
"Here you declare," went on the Field-Marshal, with his big finger on the text, "your irrevocable purpose. You swear that rather than submit you will hurl yourself into the Bosphorus."
"Where does it say that?" screamed Abdul.
"Here beside my thumb."
"I can't do it, I can't do it," moaned the little Sultan.
"More than that further," went on the Prussian quite undisturbed, "you state hereby your fixed resolve, rather than give in, to cast yourself from the highest pinnacle of the topmost minaret of this palace."
"Oh, not the highest; don't make it the highest," moaned Abdul.
"Your purpose is fixed. Nothing can alter it. Unless the Allied Powers withdraw from their advance on Constantinople you swear that within one hour you will fill your mouth with mud and burn yourself alive."
"Just Allah!" cried the Sultan. "Does it say all that?"