What could Lord Castleford, staying at the British Embassy, do but hand her over immediately to the Turkish authorities?

As a diplomat and as a guest of the Great Elchi, it would be unthinkable that he should do anything but behave correctly.

Now Yamina could hear the sound of his horse’s hoofs. They had drawn level. Perhaps he would recognise Hamid!

She held her breath.

Then she knew that it was unlikely that Lord Castleford, so superciliously indifferent to his surroundings, would give an ordinary Turk walking by the side of a sedan chair a second glance.

There was nothing to distinguish Hamid from the thousands of other Turks, similarly dressed and looking, especially to a foreigner, almost identical.

They were past.

The sound of his horse’s hoofs was fading into the distance and Yamina closed the curtains and sat back.

He could not help her.

Nobody could!

What must be must be!

That was the fatalism of the East and she must accept it for herself.

*

Afterwards Yamina could hardly remember her first sight of the magnificent white marble gateway of the Dolmabahçe Palace.

She was to learn later that it represented a mixture of Turkish and European architecture and that to the Sultan it was everything that was modern and desirable.

The vast pile covering a great acreage of land, with the Bosporus flowing on one side and backed by verdant parks and hills, was a Fairy-like edifice compared with the dark, gloomy and ancient Seraglio.

Two enormous wings were attached to the corps-de-logis and, before the broad white steps leading from the front of the Palace to the water’s edge, a Royal Caïque waited, ready to carry the Sultan across the waves to whatever other part of his domain he fancied.

No one, Yamina was to think later, could imagine a more beautiful or more suitable vehicle for a Sultan.

Spotlessly white with borders of rose-colour and gold, she watched it from a lattice window ride on the water, light as a butterfly.

Twelve rowers, clad in white Bronssa silk with scarlet fezzes, dipped their gold-tipped oars. At the stern a dome of crimson velvet supported on gold colonnettes held a silk divan on which the Caliph could recline.

An Arab with draperies of scarlet and gold held the helm and a golden eagle with outstretched wings guarded the poop.

But this was all part of the beauty, the luxury and the splendour of Dolmabahçe Palace.

First, as she was taken through the great main gate and knew that Hamid must be left behind, Yamina had a moment of panic and felt that she must rise from the chair and run back into the streets before the great gates closed upon her.

She heard the murmur of voices but was too frightened even to look through the curtain for fear of what she would see.

Then she heard Hamid’s voice say quietly,