"In that case, why did you run away?"
"What is that to you? Here I am in your hands; do your duty. But be quick! be quick!"
Something very like a choked-down sob contracted the throat of the old Turk, and again his head sank.
"What did you hope to get by escaping? The Turks are retreating everywhere, famine reigns among you, and the population has fled. Would you not have done better to have waited? The war will soon be over, and you would have been able to go home to your own house."
"Home to my own house? Where is that?"
"I don't understand you."
"Well, you soon will. I know how things are going on and have no illusions. An order has recently come from Constantinople telling people to emigrate to Asia Minor. Every one will go; my family with the rest. Where will they go? How am I to find them again? Bah! Don't let us talk about it; it is useless. I did what I thought was my duty; do your own. No one escapes death. That which is to happen, will happen; it is written. No one lives beyond the limit fixed by destiny. What I did was certainly not for myself...."
The prisoner's voice broke again, and he made a despairing gesture.
"You spoke of your family.... I also have a family," said the Major with a pensive air.
"You are very lucky then to be alive, and to be able to go and meet them. You are not a prisoner."