Beaten by a Giaour

HALF a dozen Zeibeks were sitting at the coffee-shop under the plane-trees beyond the caravan bridge at Smyrna. The coffee-shop itself was only a rough hut, to shelter the kitchen and to screen the mysteries of coffee-making from injudicious eyes. Its accommodations for customers consisted of a number of low, square stools, disposed in the shade of the trees. These stools the Zeibelts occupied, as they smoked their cigarettes and discussed the political prospects of the Turkish Empire or the state of their Hocks on the mountain’s. The place was encouraging to idleness, and held these men under its spell.

The Meles peacefully pursued its sluggish way among the bowlders of its half-dried bed. Beyond the plane-trees, and separated from them by the roughly paved caravan road that leads to all Asia Minor, was a grove of heavy cypresses, screening the tangled mass of tomb-stones which commemorate many generations of Moslem rulers. On the other side of the bridge were the gardens and closely packed houses of Smyrna. But like all Turkish cities Smyrna keeps its bustle and its noise to itself, so that not a sound disturbs the placid region adjoining its outer limits. On the caravan road was a train of camels led by a small donkey, that seemed to drag the whole caravan after it by the rope attached to its saddle. Each camel bore two huge bales of Giordes carpets on their way to Smyrna and a market. The ungainly beasts lunged awkwardly along, each uncouth body swinging like a boat among waves, but each long, crooked neck moving steadily forward, as if entirely independent of the swaying body. Even the caravan was no disturbing influence to the quiet of the cypresses and the plane-trees. The solemn tread of the camels was entirely noiseless, and the deep tone of the heavy bell that marked the rhythm of each camel’s gait lulled rather than disturbed the mental processes of the idlers at the coffeehouse.

The Zeibeks were listlessly watching the last of the camels disappear over the high stone arch of the bridge, when a horseman from the city dashed rapidly across the bridge and drew up at the little coffee-shop. Instantly these serenely disposed loiterers arose to life and action. With the ejaculation “ There’s Ali Bey ! ” every man quickly threw away his half-smoked cigarette, and sprang forward to meet the newcomer.

The gentleman styled Ali Bey was an uncommonly sour-looking Zeibek, who was decorated in the highest style of village art. His short jacket was covered with gold lace; the weapons that protruded from his wide, pouchlike belt of red Russia leather were crusted with silver and studded with garnets and turquoises ; the tassel of his tall red cap, containing at least two pounds of blue silk thread, dangled about his shoulders; and the bridle, reins, and martingale of his horse, as well as the housings of his wide red saddle, were bordered with red worsted fringe. But Ali Bey’s face was black as a thunder-cloud, much to the disquiet of the men who had hurried to meet him. The truth is that Ali Bey, though commonly polite in his condescending way, was known to be capable of going to great lengths when in a passion, — a fact not at all compensated to any luckless victim by the fact that his hot wrath quickly cooled. The great point of anxiety with the Zeibeks on this occasion was to know whether Ali Bey’s discontent was directed toward some member of the tribe, or merely toward some infidel of an outsider. For in the latter case ill-humor does not count as a violation of strictly gentlemanly behavior. No sane man can well avoid anger while dealing with misbelieving dogs.

So these Zeibeks stood, an uneasy semicircle, until Ali Bey was safely seated on one of the low stool’s under the plane-trees, and had called for coffee. Then relief loosed every tongue, and Hassan, Hussein, Ibrahim, and the others made haste to show their devotion by loudly echoing the Bey’s command. These Zeibeks, though rough in looks, knew by heart all the rules of courteous behavior under the Oriental code. They had thrown away their cigarettes when the Bey appeared, not because they were unwilling to be known to use tobacco, but in obedience to the principles of courtesy. In America, where all men are equal, ladies only receive this delicate homage. In Turkey the women only are all equal. The men rise in successive grades, and those of each grade receive from those of a lower rank many subtle flatteries, like the prompt abandonment of cigarettes by the Zeibeks when they saw that Ali Bey, their chief, was not smoking. The one anxiety of the Zeibeks now was to fail of no opportunity for showing their high consideration for the Bey. Hence their vociferous appeals to the coffeehouse keeper to make haste with the coffee.

The coffee-dealer, or cafeji, being a Greek, and being, therefore, in social standing immeasurably below the least of the Zeibeks, felt that he too must show how truly he was the humble, obedient servant of Ali Bey. Emerging from his little den, he approached unobtrusively, and bending forward in an insinuating manner he inquired in the blandest of tones, —

“Will my lord have it straight or sugared ? ”

But Ali Bey was in no mood to be gentlemanly toward a mere Greek. He flashed one glance at the cafeji that wilted the poor wretch and sent him scuttling away to his kitchen ; while he thundered after the discomfited aspirant to favor, “ Ass ! Do you ask a Zeibek if he will have sugar ? ”

Upon this the Bey’s retainers permitted themselves sundry shrugs and grimaces of a solemnly deprecatory order, and Ibrahim even ventured to remark, “ What can you expect ? These city fellows were created so ! ”

This outburst was on the whole conducive to the comfort of the company, for it seemed to exercise a mollifying influence on Ali Bey’s feelings. Heaving a deep sigh, that gentleman took out a red broadcloth tobacco-bag and prepared to make a cigarette. Something in the subtle fragrance of the golden threads of tobacco which he rolled in the thin paper softened him still more, and he remarked to the audience in general, —

“ Well, he won’t do it.”

“He won’t!” replied his men in chorus. Not being quite sure whether or no Ali Bey expected them to be indignant, these shrewd courtiers employed a tone that might represent either surprise or disgust. But the fact that the Bey had unbent enough to address them produced a most marked relief.

“ No,” continued Ali Bey. “ First he said that he would employ three men; afterwards he made impossible conditions. He is a bear, and the son of a bear.”

“ That is the way with foreigners,” remarked Hassan, in a tone of conviction.

“ They bring their railway here and change the course of trade, and then make light of the ancient rights which they have attacked,” grumbled Ibrahim.

“ What did the fellow say to your excellency?” inquired Hassan, with respect.

“ The miserable dog said that if our men receive the pay of the railway they must wear the uniform of its servants ! ”

“There’s a foreigner for you!” growled Ibrahim. “ The brass of him can be weighed by the ton ! ”

Meanwhile Ali Bey had rolled up his cigarette, and held it in his hand, seeming to enjoy the sensation caused by his harrowing tale. The cafeji now came briskly forward with the materials necessary for serving a cup of coffee. In one hand he brought the little tray, with a glass of water and a small coffee-cup, and a cup-holder of brass inverted by the side of the cup. In the other hand was a live coal held with tongs, and a long-handled coffee-pot full of the steaming black liquid. The tray he deposited on one of the low stools in front of Ali Bey; the coffee, with all its rich brown foam, he quickly poured into the cup, and then, with a smirk of self-satisfaction, he offered the coal of fire to Ali Bey.

Ali Bey lighted his cigarette from the coal; then he took a preparatory sip of water, and accepted the little cup of coffee which one of the men now handed to him in its metal holder. But he paused, with the cup midway to his lips, in order to continue his story.

“That uniform,” said he, “includes the cap of the Christian, made with a straight piece of stiff leather projecting from the front. It is the devil’s own invention to prevent men from touching their foreheads to the ground in worship, and’’— Here he took a sip of coffee. The effect was tremendous. Ali Bey sprang to his feet, spat out the coffee, flung the cup and its scalding contents at the head of the unsuspecting cafeji, and roared out, “ The ass-headed idiot has sugared it! May ten thousand plagues light upon him and his father and his mother! And he calls himself a cafeji! ”

Then the Bey strode to his horse, mounted, and rode away from the scene of so disgusting an adventure.

The other Zeibeks had made a rush with one accord toward the unhappy Greek ; but that clumsy bungler was too quick for them, and scurried over the caravan bridge like a hare, having learned at last that Zeibeks take their coffee “ straight.” The men did not pursue him, but, picking up the shoes which had dropped from the cafeji’s feet in his flight, they hurled them after him with a few well-compounded imprecations, and then, mounting their horses, they rode away after their chief.

The next morning Ali Bey and two of his men were riding toward a village perched on the slopes of Mount Tmolus. They had slept three or four hours on the floor of a wayside hut, and now the clear morning air of their own home land had dissipated the traces of whatever discontent they had found in the city. In that fine air Ali Bey was a very different being from the Ali Bey of the streets of “ giaour ” Smyrna. Even so slight a change of geographical position had brought him into a land where the infidels have no part, and where the very blades of grass seemed more fresh and green for their freedom from the contaminating presence. As his horse jogged along, Ali Bey was singing a love ditty in a clear voice, his eyes lingering tenderly upon the sheep of the great flocks that were busily cropping the short grass.

The place was by no means devoid of beauty, although hardly a tree could be seen on the ridges that stretched away into the east. In the valleys on either hand were black groves of olive ; far below, toward the west, the wide plains were dotted with heavy clumps of walnut-trees ; here and there on the nearer slopes were patches of bright vineyard, or more compact stretches of wheat that piled up lazily moving billows in the gentle breeze. Yellow butterflies chased each other across the path, and many a caroling songster rose swiftly from the scrubby oak bushes that grew hedge-like along parts of the road. not far away, in front, the little village of sun-dried brick lay bowered in fruit trees, with a single white minaret to testify to its devout and orderly character. By the roadside, just outside of the village, was a little stone fountain, shaded by two or three terebinth-trees.

As Ali Bey approached this fountain he stopped singing, for his eye fell upon a girl who was waiting there for her water-jug to fill at the ever flowing-tap. The girl was dressed in a short jacket of sky-blue broadcloth, open in front over a vest of striped cotton. Full trousers of the same red and white striped material, thickly gathered at the waist, fell in copious curves to the ankle, where a tight band, concealed under the overhanging folds, held them up from the bare brown foot. Upon her head she wore a large white kerchief, gayly embroidered on the edges, beneath which, reaching to her waist, was a mass of slender braids of jet-black hair, each separate braid adorned at its extremity with a small gold coin. A string of similar gold coins marked the place where her collar should have been, had the various garments which met at her neck included any such point of definite termination as is implied by a button or other fastening. The kerchief covered her head and drooped over her forehead ; but her black eyes sparkled, and her full, well-colored lips quivered into a smile as Ali Bey’s group came up. She quickly drew the kerchief over her mouth and throat, but not so soon as to conceal the glow that suddenly warmed the tint of her round dark cheek.

“ Who is in the village, Eminé ? ” asked Ali Bey, drawing rein by the fountain.

“ Hamid is there,” replied the girl. “ My father has gone hunting, and the rest are out with the sheep. Most of the girls have gone to get wood.”

“ Are you all well ? ” asked Ali, with a caress in the glance of his eyes as well as in his voice.

“ Praise God,” said Eminé, simply, dropping her eyes under the gaze of the Bey.

Ali Bey looked around uneasily at his two companions, who had halted by his side. They understood their chief’s moods by intuition, and without a word rode on into the village. Then Ali Bey leaned over toward the girl to whisper the one word “ Dearest! ”

Eminé looked up quickly, with a bright light in her eyes. Then, turning away, she filled a gourd with water from the fountain and offered it to Ali. But she still held the kerchief closely drawn across her face. Only her eyes smiled up at her lover.

Ali took the gourd, lightly touching, as he did so, the little brown hand. Then he said gently, “ Don’t hide your face, Eminé. I have n’t seen you for so long.”

“ Yes,” answered Emine, “ not for three whole days ! ”

Her hand relaxed its grasp, so that when she reached up to take the watergourd again, one corner of the kerchief fell away, entirely revealing her face. For an instant she looked up at Ali Bey with a witching expression of surrender ; and then she caught the kerchief together again, and dropped her eyes to the ground.

“ Eminé, my heart is torn in pieces. I am in torture every moment that I am away from you. Your father is too hard on us, to make us wait these months and months ! ”

The girl’s brow flushed, and her veiled head bent lower as she slowly said, “What do you think that I feel, then, if you can feel so much for me ? ” Then, nervously looking around, she added, “ But, Ali, you must not stay here. People will talk.”

“ What do we care for what the wagchins say ? Are you not promised to me ? It can’t be long now to our marriage day, although I did not succeed in Smyrna,”

“ But you know father would he very angry if he knew that I have these little talks with you, Ali. He says that we shall have plenty of time to do our talking by and by ; and that then he won’t have the whole village coming to him every day to ask him what we talk about.”

“ Well, I shall make you let me see your eyes enough, for once, when that day comes ! Do you know that I have a plan to get the other fifty pounds to put with the fifty I have already ? That will be all your father asks.”

“ Father says that Ahmed Bey from Sarikeny has offered him two hundred pounds for me.”

“ He has gold,” said Ali Bey, fiercely, “ and he has three wives besides. But you know very well that it is n’t for lack of love that I don’t give as much. The sheep-tax eats up all the money, and now this railroad takes everybody right by us into the city, so that there is no chance of finding a traveler with five paras in his pocket.”

“ Yes, Ali, I know ; and father knows very well that I would never marry Ahmed Bey. He is cruel to Ins wives.”

“ Well, I am going to ask advice of your father about a plan. You see, if the giaour merchants invent a railroad to escape paying toll to us, we must invent, too. There they all are, shut up in their boxes. Perhaps we can catch the lot at once, instead of having to lie out night after night on the highway to catch them one at a time. Perhaps we may make this railroad a means to larger profits, after all.”

“ That is a brave man’s plan,” said Eminé, earnestly. “ God intends all men to have a chance to live. Where he shuts one door he opens a thousand ! But you really must go, Ali. Some of the girls will be coming back.”

“ Dear, if I am blessed in this plan of mine I shall have the gold, and then — Ah, Eminé, I shall make your father promise that it shall be within two weeks. Farewell. But first let me see your face once more.”

“ No, Ali,” said Eminé, looking on the ground. “ I always feel ashamed of myself for hours after I have let you see my face in this brazen way. Be patient, for I am promised to you,” and she turned her soft black eyes full upon him.

The stern law of the veil makes it dangerous to good repute for a girl to be seen talking alone with a young man. Turkish lovers therefore have to content themselves with mere glimpses, hurried words, and a vivid imagination, which, after all, plays the most important part in weaving the entanglements of youthful hearts. With eyes only might these two exchange their farewell salute. Yet, even as he touched spur to his horse, Ali Bey suddenly put forth his hand and laid it caressingly upon the forehead of Eminé. It was only a touch, but she started back, chiding his boldness, and in the quick movement her kerchief escaped her hand once more, revealing, as in a flash, her radiant face. The next moment Ali Bey’s horse was taking him up the village street.

Hafiz Effendi, the father of Eminé,

was the chief man of the village. He was a kindly old gentleman, with the dignified air which ponderous motions and a patriarchal beard may impart even to a mountaineer; and his dress was entirely different from that of the less learned members of the community, He might be seen any day, at the hours of prayer, entering the little mosque, his stout form enveloped in a flowing gown of crimson, worn over a close robe of dark green broadcloth. This inner robe, bound at the waist by a girdle of gay cashmere, hung several inches below the skirt of the gown, and well below the knee. Here, however, the old gentleman seemed to have come to the end of his ingenuity or of his material, since he but illy screened his nether extremities from the public gaze by the protruding and crumpled ends of white cotton under-garments that entirely failed to meet a very disreputable-looking and downat-the-heel pair of woolen socks. Broad, low red shoes with upturned points completed the equipment of his feet. To his head more attention was given. First he wore a white cotton skull-cap next His shaven poll, then a second skullcap of felt, and outside of this a thickly wadded and quilted cap of red cotton, which overhung his head at all points, like the eaves of a Chinese pagoda. Outside of all, the badge of learning— the thick, white turban — was wound in such a way as to leave exposed to view only the flat top of the massive red cap. This arrangement certainly endowed Hafiz Effendi with the appearance of possessing a vast intellectual apparatus, — an appearance which might or might not be borne out by the facts, since his philosophy had little to do with any world outside of his own village. Whatever was not of the order of nature familiar to him he was wont to attribute to supernatural causes. All that seemed to him good he used to ascribe to the divine interposition. All that seemed evil, including infidels, foreigners, and their works, devices, and innovations, he attributed to the less wholesome but still supernatural influence of a very active and personal devil. He had no interest in such matters, being content to dwell among the flocks on the mountain, to worship God, and to teach the young people a sound morality. His moral code was high, but like some more favored wise men he held that the moral law had no restraints to lay upon the conduct of his people toward strangers, and particularly toward those of a different religious faith. So his people were well behaved and even gentle at home, but did what was right in their own eyes when outside of their village. The good Effendi owed his chief distinction to the fact of his having studied in a Moslem theological seminary somewhere in the misty past. The respect paid to a village priest in nonMoslem communities fell to this old gentleman in this Zeibek village, by reason of the information on all social and religious problems supposed to lie in the magazines outlined by that vast head-dress. It is true that Ali Bey was chief, because he belonged to a line whose blood had known no plebeian admixture since the Seljuk sultans. But to Hafiz Effendi the Bey looked up, as leader in worship and as keeper of his conscience. As to his retainers, the common herd scarce dared breathe in the presence of the lord of their chief.

That evening, after the fifth and last prayer at the mosque, Ali Bey called to sec Hafiz Effendi. He had his plan to propose for extracting revenue from the mercantile community on an entirely new basis. But, feeling somewhat uncertain as to his ground, he also wished the solution of a problem in morals.

Hafiz Effendi felt something like enthusiasm for the young man to whom he had promised Eminé for little more than half what he might have asked as dowry. He had favored Ali Bey because of his high descent and because of his unusual acuteness and energy. He now felt that his confidence was not misplaced, for the enterprise proposed was one that moved his whole heart. Certain ladies of his acquaintance had more than once hinted to him that his teaching was not worth much if it could not lead the men of the tribe to bestir themselves to provide for their families. Scarcity had set in since the opening of the railway had reduced the whole village to dependence on its flocks for its luxuries.

“ Good, my son ! ” said Hafiz Effendi. “You will have no difficulty in catching them all.”

“ But one thing troubles me. What will the police say ? They are becoming less and less friendly. I should not wish to have our village visited by a band of mounted police sent to punish a Bey.”

“ The police can be managed, if you return with full hands, although the government has fallen so low as to support these new-fangled notions as to freedom of trade. The people hunger because they are not protected. My wife told me yesterday how the people lack clothing, and how they have nothing to eat but the butter and cheese of our flocks. The story which she told would melt a very heart of stone, and cause it to flow as tears from the eyes. It is all wrong ! ”

“We used to boast that no Christian or Jew could trade in our district, or even pass through it, without giving tribute,” said Ali Bey. “ Yet while the government frowns on our enterprises, are we right in acting independently ? Can we fearlessly take from the railroad which the government has allowed to be built ? ”

“ Leave the government to ruin itself ! it is sold to the aliens, like a camel, with its old halter thrown in. This nonsense about equal rights and interests will one day destroy it. The foundation of all prosperity is the principle that the government should protect the interests and industries of its own people first. The rest of the world has no right to enjoy in this laud what our own people have not. Where is the railroad owned by our people ? The good of this freedom goes to infidels and foreigners, until every Jew and every Greek is like a lamb with two dams, while any Moslem you meet is as black in the face as a kid disowned by its mother.”

“ But if the government calls us to account for attacking the railway, could I maintain this principle in the courts ? ” asked Ali Bey, with a prudent foresight that his daily associates would not have suspected in the fiery young chief.

“ No doctor of the holy law could condemn you for such an act of pure self-defense,” replied the wise man earnestly. “ All authorities agree that the sheep of the flock must first be fed. It is the object in view that settles the morality of the measures adopted. Were it not for this, the faithful would have no freedom. Where choice lies between a Moslem’s suffering want and his feeding in the pastures of more fortunate infidels, the Moslem has a right to take measures to secure a division of good things in accord with the evident design for which Providence has created infidels. This, my son, is in accord with the usage of ages among our brethren of the Arabian deserts. They hold it lawful, in case of necessity, to attack with armed force any individual, or any caravan of another tribe, provided only that the attack be made openly and in daylight, as becomes men, and that the victims are left with enough provision to secure them against starvation during a journey to the next town. No court whose judge is a Moslem could censure you for acting on this principle.”

“Well, I shall try this thing. You know that it is for Eminé that I do it. Within three days, by the help of the Prophet, I shall claim her under your promise,” said Ali Bey, as he arose to depart.

“ Go in peace,” replied the pious old man. “ Work by daylight, be not too exacting, shed no blood save in case some miscreant forces you to it in selfdefense, and the blessing of blessings go with you ! ”

Of course the ladies could not be visible to persons of the opposite sex; but at such evening consultations they generally contrived to be somewhere within earshot. So when Ali Bey had gone forth into the night he was not surprised to hear a slight “Hem! ” proceed from the side of the bouse, as though some feminine creature, there Walled up, was preparing to exercise her vocal organs. He went quickly to the place, and found a small window closely covered by a board shutter. A light tap on the shutter showed him that some one was within, and a small crack between two boards offered him a channel of communication.

“ Eminé ! ” whispered Ali Bey.

“Yes,” came from within.

“ I am going to try it for your sake.”

“ Brave, good Ali! Mother says you are of the real old Turkish stock, born to be a hero.”

“ You must be ready for the wedding next week, Eminé.”

“ Nonsense ! You are crazy. It will take a week to make ready the feast. But I must go back, or father will be coming to look for me. Good-night I ”

“ Open the window a little.”

“ No, I can’t. Good-night ! ”

“ But, Eminé ” —

“ Well ? ”

“ I am going to insist about the wedding ” —

“Why, of course we can’t have it so soon. Father will tell you all about it. But go, quick; somebody is coming! ”

“ Listen, dear: wait for me at the fountain, day after to-morrow, a little after noon.”

“ Yes. God bless you and give you the success you deserve. Good-night! ”

At the same moment the heavy step of Hafiz Effendi was plainly heard crossing the floor within. Upon this, a sudden busy clatter of utensils having informed Ali that Eminé was duly prepared to meet the ordeal of the old gentleman’s inquisitive eye, he thought it wise to depart. With so much of an interview as encouragement, he might be content to attend to the serious duties now before him.

The nest night, Ali Bey with two men rode into a pine grove on the Chamli Yaila, twenty-five miles from Smyrna, and close to the railway line, He dismounted, and established himself on a rug which Hassan spread under one of the trees. Soon another young brave appeared, and then others, until twenty-three men had arrived, equipped for a bivouac.

Once on the ground, Ali Bey began to wish that he had more information as to the mechanism and habits of railway trains. He had come there to search the pockets of the passengers — a simple matter, once the passengers were caught. The one difficult part of the undertaking, namely the stopping of the train, gave rise to a lively interchange of views.

Yahya,, a young and promising brother of Ali Bey, proposed that they all go and stand on the track in front of the train and so compel it to stop. He was, however, speedily reduced to silence by Hassan, who, firmly believing that the giaours had imprisoned a genie for their motive and power, said, —

“ Stupid ! If we stand in front of it, it will see us, and stop so far off that the passengers will run away before we can get there.”

“ Besides,” added old Omer, “ we might get bruised ; it goes so fast.”

“ The first thing we have to do,” growled Ibrahim, “ is to teach our boys to have short tongues and wide ears.”

Hussein completed the boy’s discomfiture by saying to him, “ Your tongue is as long as a baker’s shovel already ; what will it be when you grow up ? ”

Upon this Ali Bey interfered with “ Well, well, Yahya is n’t a camel, that when you want to finish him you must needs cut his throat in seven places. It does n’t take a whole tribe to silence a boy.”

“ I did n’t mean to hurt the boy’s feelings,” replied Hussein humbly. “ But about the train : the Jew peddler told me that his brother had it from one of the engineers that if the fire goes out the thing stops. Let us send men for buckets, and have them full of water ready to dash on the fire as the train goes by. That will stop it, sure.”

“ Or,” reflectively added Ismail, “ we might get a big rope, thicker than we would use to tie Ahmed Bey’s great bull, and with more men we could hold the rope in front of it and make it stop.”

So these innocents of the mountain discussed the methods of controlling this foreign invention without an idea of that with which they had to do. They had seen the trains pass and repass, but they had merely said, “ Mashallah ! ” never concerning themselves to go to a station for a nearer understanding of the curiosity.

At last Ali Bey, after a feasible plan had occurred to him, stopped their speculations with a lofty air, as he said, —

“ Ah, hah, men ! One may as well expect the blind to understand color as a peasant wisdom. The train will come with more force than ten bulls. We must have something that will hold such a force. At the same time we must be free to act, ourselves, for what we do we must do quickly.”

Ali Bey’s auditors were filled with admiration at his far-seeing judgment, and when he added that he thought a goodly heap of stones on the track would do the business, the admiration of his followers was changed to enthusiasm over the discovery that their little village had produced a man of genius.

The great question settled, there were no burdens upon the minds of the men, and the evening passed away merrily, with story-telling, ballad-singing, and even a little dancing. At last the men, wrapped in sleeveless shepherd’s coats of felt, disposed themselves on the ground, and slept the sleep of the pure in conscience. In the morning, also, they rested quietly among the trees until the down train had passed. Then they fell to work. They piled large stones upon the track, and then heaped a second pile to make things doubly sure. Ali Bey was a little doubtful as to the habits of locomotives. He had once seen an engine at the station turn out, in order to pass cars that stood in the way. If it could turn out to pass cars, why not turn out to pass a barricade? So he ordered the barricade to be extended, wing fashion, to the ditch on either side. The men Were still at work when the sound of the whistle at Eshekli station brought their hearts into their mouths, and sent the whole band to cover.

“ Now, remember,” said Ali Bey.

“ Not a man stirs until I rise up; then every one is to rush in like a whirlwind. Pistols and swords in your hands, but not a drop of blood is to be shed ! ”

Meanwhile George Farr, the conductor of the morning train, was in the station at Smyrna, answering the multifarious calls for the “guard,” as the time for departure arrived. The first bell had rung, and the passengers came hurrying from the waiting-room like a pack of children let out of school. There were government officials, sleek and smiling, and army officers, with servants loaded down with bedding. There were merchants in long robes and red fez caps, going out to buy opium, cotton, figs, carpets, and what not. There were Moslem theologians in white turbans, and Turkish ladles swathed and muffled into the semblance of walking featherbeds. There were trim European clerks, and black-robed priests, and elegantly dressed European ladies. Once or twice Farr looked uneasily toward the door of the waiting-room; but quickly his face brightened, and he hastened in that direction. as Mr. Thompson, the engineer at the works on “ the point,” appeared in the doorway, followed by his wife and daughter. There was small time for greetings, but a rosy smile from pretty Miss Thompson satisfied all Farr’s immediate cravings in that direction, and produced a slight increase of color on the frank Saxon face of the young man.

The three new-comers were quickly established in a reserved compartment.

“ Don’t let your engine go to playing any pranks to-day,” cried Miss Thompson gayly, as Farr was shutting the door.

“ The engine will be on its good behavior while you are on board.” laughed Farr. “It has the reputation of the road to make, so that you may want to come again.”

And then the last bell jangled. Belated ones scrambled into their places. Farr hurried off to his van in the rear of the train. Several individuals ran at a breakneck speed in various directions along the platform. The whistle screeched, and the train moved slowly out of the station amid the plaudits of the populace.

George Farr was in a state of high elation. He had induced the Thompson family to take a trip out and back on his train that day in order to enjoy the novelty of a railway excursion, with a picnic in a certain cool grove at the other end of the line. He had by this means secured the pleasing result of having the fair-faced English girl near him during the whole day, and of feeling that the responsibility for her comfort rested with himself in a peculiar degree. His assiduity in making official rounds of the train on that occasion was something remarkable, and he had had several pleasant chats with the occupants of the particular carriage where his official duties seemed inclined to end. The train had just left one of the little way stations when Farr, sitting in his van, began to feel that he could not be easy in his mind until he had made the tour of the train once more, in order to make sure that if any passenger had slipped in unnoticed, at Eshekli, such passenger was provided with his proper ticket. So he set forth again to clamber along the footboards. As he drew near the compartment where his friends were established, he spied Miss Thompson’s beaming face at the window, at which she was engaged in eating a peach. She shook her finger threateningly at him, but he did not let that daunt him, and slyly tossed a kiss to her in return. By this time he was quite sure that no one had got on board at Eshekli. Hence he concluded that there was no need of his visiting the other carriages, and decided, on the whole, to stop and chat with the Thompsons a little while. He had his hand upon the key, to open the door, when the engine gave a blast of the whistle so frantic as to make him pause. Then the train stopped. In his wonder Farr actually forgot Miss Thompson.

He dropped to the ground, to see what was the matter. Matter enough ! “ Some tomfool has been playing a game,” he thought, as he caught sight of a heap of stones piled across the track. But he had not run a dozen paces toward the head of the train, when the air suddenly became thick with furious yells, and a crowd of Zeibeks rushed from the bushes by the roadside. With swords and pistols they charged the train, from which arose a vast hubbub of screams.

Two of the men quickly seized Farr, while a third administered several sounding whacks upon his back with the flat of a sword.

“ Open these doors ! ” roared the Zeibek; for the men were vainly trying to force their way into the locked compartments.

Farr was at first too much taken by surprise to do anything, but a volley of oaths, accompanied by kicks and blows, brought him to his senses, and he began to unlock the doors of the train. Three or four Zeibeks sprang into each compartment as it was opened, hurling their whole vocabulary at the unfortunate occupants as a prophylactic against resistance. Shrieks, prayers, curses, commands, entreaties, resounded on every hand. One would have supposed that the whole body of passengers was Being massacred. Hardly less was the turmoil in Farr’s own brain, as he found himself in front of a compartment in which he saw Susan Thompson’s white, scared face; while Mr. Thompson, at the window, was struggling with a Zeibek who had clutched his watch. Farr paused, but he paused only a moment, for a huge fellow behind him struck him between the shoulders, shouting, —

“ Son of a Russian dog, open the doors ! ”

There was a woman’s scream from within the carriage as Farr staggered forward under the force of the blow. But the blow was a deliverance, for it carried him past the door, and so settled, for the moment, the question of his opening it. He unlocked the door to which he was nearest, and the Zeibeks rushed in. They were careless as to the order of procedure, since several compartments yet remained to be entered, while the supply of Zeibeks was nearly exhausted. So the Thompsons were left to themselves.

Then occurred an incident of the class of accidents which sometimes change the fate of surprises. When the Zeibeks had entered the compartment, Farr, from sheer force of habit, closed the door after them. The slamming of that door startled him with an idea. Three more Zeibeks were bawling at some Armenian merchants in the next carriage, who were trying to escape, through the opposite window. Farr admitted the impatient robbers and shut the door. Then he turned, and ran with all his might along the train, slamming the doors as he passed by. The Zeibeks themselves, in their anxiety to keep their prey from escaping, had already closed two of the compartments; never dreaming that they could not open what they could so easily shut. The rest were too busy to heed what was going on outside. In a moment the Zeibeks were all shut in, and Farr had leaped upon the engine. In another moment Ali Bey, who had just transferred a frontlet of gold coins from a Greek girl’s head to his own pocket, sprang to the window, shouting, —

“ Whose religion have I got to curse now? Who is playing with this thing? Hassan ! Ibrahim ! Who is moving these cars ? Stop them ! Mercy ! they can go backwards ! ”

Events move quickly when a band of wild Zeibeks furnish the final motive. It was barely half an hour after the train passed Eshekli station going up when the officials at that place were amazed to hear it coming back. It went by like a flash. But Zeibeks were leaning out of all the windows, and mingled with the roar of the wheels was a great roar of voices, threatening and entreating. Snatches of sound even came in the form of intelligible Turkish cries: ‘‘Open the door! ” “Stop ! stop, I say!” “Let me out!” “I’ll kill you if you don’t stop it! ” and then the train and the hubbub following were gone around the curve of the hill. When the people at the station had done craning their necks at this strange sight, they found a lump of coal on the platform. On the coal was a piece of paper bearing a scrawl, which, when deciphered was found to read : —

“ The brigands have caught us. Wire line clear, and troops at station.

“ G. FARR.”

In consequence of this and sundry similar lumps of coal dropped at other little stations as the mad train went by, there were soldiers waiting at the Smyrna terminus when the Zeibeks arrived at the end of their unexpected journey. The line of troops closed in upon the train as soon as it stopped, The Zeibeks were cowed and abject. Hassan alone was equal to the emergency. “ It was all a mistake,” he explained from a window. “ We only wanted to be taken on board the train, and the foolish fellow who opened the doors got frightened, and came back instead of going on. We have n’t done anything ! ”

But the fat colonel in command of the troops mildly advised him “not to tire his jaw,” and ordered his men to keep the Zeibeks from leaving the carriages until the passengers had alighted.

The passengers streamed forth with great alacrity ; and Farr, hatless and with torn and muddy clothes, became the centre of an admiring group. The native passengers, in true Oriental fashion, were grumbling at the man who had saved them. The merchants whose escape through the windows had been cut short when Farr opened the door of their compartment even went so far as to propose to have “ that guard ” arrested for having admitted the Zeibeks to the train. But the Europeans pressed about the young man to shake hands and praise his pluck. Among these appreciative remarks, however, none quite equaled in force, to Farr at least, that of Susan Thompson, as she, coming through the crowd with her father, put out her hand in a timid way and said, —

“ You are a very brave man. George ! ” and she gave him one of the most ravishing smiles that he had ever beheld on the face of beauty.

For all answer, Farr, forgetful of his torn and hatless condition, took her proffered hand and tucking it under his arm marched off to the waiting-room.

Meanwhile the Zeibeks were brought out from the cars, and, after being searched, were tied together, two and two. Poor Ali Bey had staked his luck against that of the Giaour. As usual, the bitterness of failure had overwhelmed the unhappy Oriental, while the sweets of success had fallen to the pushing, energetic foreigner. To the last the Zeibeks protested that they had done nothing. Ibrahim said pleadingly,

“ We are not such boors as to rob the illustrious people who go on this railroad. We took nothing from them.”

In fact, the most rigorous search revealed no stolen goods, for the Zeibeks had been wise enough, after realizing their position, to disgorge the various articles which they had appropriated in the first flush of victory.

Nevertheless, the fat Turkish colonel remorselessly marched them off to the police station. As they were passing down the street, one of them, who had an unusual amount of gold lace on his jacket, was heard to say in a fierce undertone, —

“ May owls roost on the tomb of the father of the man who invented railroads! How could I know that the thing could go backward ! ”

“ Yes, my lord,” feebly responded the man to whom he was bound with cords; “ the mistake was that we did n’t put the second pile of stones at the other end ! ”

About the same time, at the village on Mount Tmolus, a girl, singing like a bird from exuberance of happiness, came lightly down the path toward the fountain under the terebinths. There she set down her water-jug, and shading her eyes with her hand she gazed steadfastly across the valley to southward, saying to herself, “ Why is he so long in his coming ? ”

Poor Eminé! Her vigil at the trysting-place was destined to be a long one !

0. H. Durward.