"Why not?" said Abdul. "It was a great system. We invented it, but everybody was beginning to copy it. In fact, we were leading the world, before all this trouble came. Didn't you have anything of our system in your country —what do you call it—in Canada?"

"Yes," I admitted. "Now that I come to think of it, we were getting into it. But the war has changed it all—"

"Exactly," said Abdul. "There you are! All changed! The good old days gone for ever!"

"But surely," I said, "you still have friends—the Bulgarians."

The Sultan's little black eyes flashed with anger as he withdrew his pipe for a moment from his mouth.

"The low scoundrels!" he said between his teeth. "The traitors!"

"Why, they're your Allies!"

"Yes, Allah destroy them! They are. They've come over to our side. After centuries of fighting they refuse to play fair any longer. They're on our side! Who ever heard of such a thing? Bah! But, of course," he added more quietly, "we shall massacre them just the same. We shall insist, in the terms of peace, on retaining our rights of massacre. But then, no doubt, all the nations will."

"But you have the Germans—" I began.

"Hush, hush," said Abdul, laying his hand on my arm. "Some one might hear."

"You have the Germans," I repeated.

"The Germans," said Abdul, and his voice sounded in a queer sing-song like that of a child repeating a lesson, "are my noble friends, the Germans are my powerful allies, the Kaiser is my good brother, the Reichstag is my foster-sister. I love the Germans. I hate the English. I love the Kaiser. The Kaiser loves me—"

"Stop, stop, Abdul," I said, "who taught you all that?"

Abdul looked cautiously around.

"They did," he said in a whisper. "There's a lot more of it. Would you like me to recite some more? Or, no, no, what's the good? I've no heart for reciting any longer." And at this Abdul fell to weeping again.

"But, Abdul," I said, "I don't understand. Why are you so distressed just now? All this has been going on for over two years. Why are you so worried just now?"

"Oh," exclaimed the little Sultan in surprise, "you haven't heard! I see—you've only just arrived. Why, to-day is the last day. After to-day it is all over."

"Last day for what?" I asked.

"For intervention. For the intervention of the United States. The only thing that can save us. It was to have come to-day, by the end of this full moon—our astrologers had predicted it—Smith Pasha, Minister under Heaven of the United States, had promised, if it came, to send it to us at the earliest moment. How do they send it, do you know, in a box, or in paper?"

"Stop," I said as my ear caught the sound of footsteps. "There's some one coming now."