THE SULTAN OF TURKEY 



was, but eventually we struck it. These sol- 

 diers never smile. They look as if they were 

 going into immediate battle. There was no 

 expression of good fellowship; they seemed 

 tired, and not one recognized, in any way, the 

 comrade by his side. When they saluted the 

 generals, or some high state official, the action 

 was as automatic as that of a wooden soldier. 



And now the ceremony is on. The Sul- 

 tan's Master of Ceremonies comes and we 

 are presented. He is all smiles, and at a dis- 

 tance, from the motion of his hands, you think 

 he is washing them. He explains that much as 

 the Sultan might have wished, an audience 

 with us is impossible, but that he will be glad 

 to arrange it for a later date. Through him, 

 I thank the Sultan for the honor of the Irade, 

 which had brought me to Constantinople. 



Presently a carriage comes up the little 

 steep hill, with guards at the side. In this 

 closed carriage we see two women with veils 

 over their heads; beside them are sitting two 

 girls, perhaps fifteen years of age or less. 

 They peer at the visitors on the veranda, and 

 in at the windows of the Palace ; they seem curi- 

 ous to know what things look like outside of 

 the three great walls. It is whispered that 



[35]- 



