June 1. In the middle of the religious exercises with which the
new school is being inaugurated, cries of "Allah" come from a
great crowd which has gathered. From my window where I am writing
I can see how insolent the attitude of this Mohammedan riffraff is
becoming. They spit upon the ground--a pebble is tossed at a
convert--a sudden shout of "Allah"--pushing and jostling--a
lighted torch blazes! I take my whip of rhinoceros hide and go
down into the court to put a stop to this insolence---Her father slowly closed the book.
"Daddy! Is that where poor Herr Wilner died?"
"Yes, dear."
After a silence his wife said thoughtfully: "I have always considered it very strange that the German Government
did not send for Herr Wilner's papers."
"Probably they did, Mary. And very probably Murad Bey told them that
the papers had been destroyed."
"And you never believed it to be your duty to send the papers to the
German Government?"
"No. It was an unholy alliance that Germany sought with that monster
Abdul. And when Enver Pasha seized the reins of government such an
alliance would have been none the less unholy. You know and so do I
that if Germany did not actually incite the Armenian massacres she at
least was cognisant of preparations made to begin them. Germany is
still hostile to all British or American missions, all Anglo-Saxon
influence in Turkey.
"No; I did not send Herr Wilner's papers to Berlin; and the events of
the last fifteen years have demonstrated that I was right in
withholding them."
His wife nodded, laid aside her work basket, and rose.
"Come, Ruhannah," she said with decision; "put everything back into
the wonder-box."
And, stooping, she lifted and laid away in it the scowling, menacing
Yellow Devil.
* * * * *
And so, every month or two, the wonder-box was opened for the child to
play with, the same story told, extracts from the diary read; but
these ceremonies, after a while, began to recur at lengthening
intervals as the years passed and the child grew older.
And finally it was left to her to open the box when she desired, and
to read for herself the pencilled translation of the diary, which her
father had made during some of the idle and trying moments of his
isolated and restricted life. And, when she had been going to school
for some years, other and more vivid interests replaced her dolls and
her wonder-box; but not her beloved case of water-colours and crayon
pencils.