It was this wisdom that had earned him the title of ‘The Great Elchi’ and by which he was known throughout the Levant.

But the Christians who lived in the Turkish Empire used a much higher title. They called him ‘The Padishah of the Padishah’ – ‘The Sultan of the Sultan’.

But because of Lord Stratford’s influence and authority, people of all races and religions looked to the British Embassy for protection – Nestorians, Yezidis, Naionites, Druses, dwellers in Mesopotamia, Jews and proselytes, Cretes and Arabians, all turned for succour to the far-reaching arm of the British Ambassador.

Lord Stratford was very formidable-looking, but this was not because of his personal pride.

He was in fact an unassuming, simple and courtly gentleman of scholarly and artistic tastes.

He enjoyed writing poetry which he often insisted on reading aloud to his Attachés after they had been up all night copying despatches and could scarcely keep their eyes open.

He had a great sense of humour, but officially, as the Queen’s representative, he considered that it was incumbent upon him to uphold the dignity and prestige of his country in his own person.

He had, however, a violent temper and his outbursts of rage were frightening.

The Turks quaked in their slippers if they heard that he had arrived to interview one of them. But the most charming thing about Lord Stratford was that, if he was in the wrong, he would make apologies and amends for words that had passed his lips in the fury of the moment.

His servants remained in his service for years and his apologies often turned the very men he had offended into his firmest friends.

To those he called his ‘pupils’ he taught the art of diplomacy. By them he was not only revered but also loved and Lord Castleford was one of them.

He knew how hard Lord Stratford worked, how close to his heart the Turkish nation was and how only he could have supported, guided and led the weak Sultan Abdul Mejia and kept him in a position of power.

Sultans had very short lives and most of them died after a very few years of reigning over little but the harem. Abdul Mejia not only had survived but, thanks entirely to Lord Stratford, he was also respected all over the East.

“Any news from the front?” Lord Castleford now asked.

“Little that is cheerful,” Lord Stratford replied.

“There is trouble in the City,” Lord Castleford said. “The mob had got hold of a man they suspected of being a spy. They were dragging him through the Bazaar to execute him, although I think by the time they had reached the square he was dead!”

Lord Stratford sighed.

“I imagined that this would gather momentum.”

“The hunt for spies?”

“It always happens when there is a war and, while Sebastopol is still holding out, people in Constantinople wish to fight the war their own way.”