CHAPTER IV

THE COMING STORM

Two hours' hard riding brought Frank and his party, in the dusk of evening, to a large village on the edge of the plain of Erzerum. There was little or no danger of further molestation; in populous places an attack on a well-known English merchant might entail disagreeable consequences, since the authorities would be almost forced to take action; all the same, Frank wished that he could have completed his journey without pause. But that being impossible, he put up at a respectable khan or inn, where he persuaded the innkeeper, by means of excess payment, to agree to keep his door closed against any travellers who might arrive subsequently. Frank preferred not to have to spend the night under the same roof as Wonckhaus, who could not be far behind him on the road.

His forethought bore fruit. Soon after he had retired to rest, with his head pillowed on his precious carpet, there was a loud banging on the door, and a rough voice bawled for the khanji. That amiable hosteller at first feigned sleep, but the pretence could not be long kept up through a din that might have roused the fabled sleepers of Ephesus. He got up, cursing, and moved to the door.

"Remember our bargain," Frank called through the partition dividing his select guest-chamber from the common room of the inn.

The man mumbled something in answer, and Frank, wondering whether his promise would hold out against the importunity of the newcomers, listened anxiously to the colloquy that ensued at the door.

"O khanji!" bawled the voice outside.

"Ahi!" was the sleepy response.

"O khanji!"

"What is it I hear?"

"Are you Khanji Abdullah?"

"Ahi!"--a sleepy drawl that meant nothing.

"A curse on the deaf one!"

"Am I deaf, or to be cursed, or do I hear the ugly voice of a camel-driver?" asked the innkeeper artlessly.

"Where is Khanji Abdullah?"

"Who?"

"Khanji Abdullah-ah-ah!" yelled the voice, prolonging the name.

"Why do you wake honest sleepers, you dog of a dogson?"

"_I_ wake folk? _I_ wake folk? Have _I_ the voice of an old dromedary? Have _I_ the voice----"

Here the speaker's shrill tones were drowned by a chorus of curses and expostulations from the guests in the common room, among whose voices Ali's was raised the loudest. When the clamour had died down, the voice of the man outside could be heard again.

"Wallahy! May Allah cast his blight upon the khan and the khanji, upon your religion and your affairs, upon your wife and children and kinsmen and cattle."

"What is this outcry and cursing, O son of a camel?"

"Open your door for honest travellers in the night."

"Wallahy! My house is full; there is not room for one honest man, much less a rogue. Get you gone, and split the ears of Khanji Muhammad yonder; his khan is the place for rogues."

"What say you, O vile khanji? Know you that here is no rogue, but a noble Alman effendi of great size and weight, whose money-bags are brimming over like a cup overfull! Open then, khanji, without more display of ignorance and folly."

"It is easy to lie in the dark. What know I of an Alman effendi? Of his nobility I say nothing; but if he be of great size and weight as you say, mashallah! there is no room for him here. Let him begone with his money-bags to Khanji Muhammad; he is very poor and needy, whereas I am in no straits, praise to Allah! Get you gone, you with the voice of a camel, and let me return to my sleep. Ahi!"

A stream of imprecations burst from the lips of Abdi, dying down in the distance as he departed with Wonckhaus and his party towards the khan of Muhammad at the other end of the village.

"Was it not well done, and worthy of large bakshish?" said Abdullah, through the door of Frank's room.

"It was well done, khanji," replied Prank, "and the morning will bring what it will."

"Alhamdolillah!" the innkeeper piously ejaculated as he returned to his couch.

His guests settled themselves to slumber and were not disturbed for the rest of the night.

Frank's first act on reaching Erzerum in the afternoon of the next day was to lock up the carpet securely in his strong room. The warehouse was an annexe at the back of the dwelling-house. This was a substantial building of stone, backing on a hillside, with a flat roof covered, like the most of the better houses in the town, with green turf. It had a large arched door, but small windows, hardly bigger than portholes, filled, however, with glass, and not with oiled paper, which the natives commonly used. Mr. Forester had made the interior comfortable in an English fashion. The stone floors were strewn with Persian rugs; on the white-washed walls hung a few engravings, together with hunting trophies. The furniture was of English make.

As he passed through the office on his way to the strong room, Frank noticed on the desk a letter, in his father's handwriting. The carpet having been safely stowed away, he returned, put the letter in his pocket, and hurried out into the street: there was something to be done that brooked no delay, for Wonckhaus had arrived before him. He hastened down the street, which crossed a valley between his house and the Government buildings on the hill opposite, and made his way to the quarters of the military governor, with whom, after the long delay usual in the East, he was accorded an interview.

"I have come to lodge a complaint against Herr Wonckhaus and the Kurd Abdi," he said, when the preliminary courtesies had been exchanged. He related the incidents on the road. The Turkish governor listened to him coldly.

"I take a note of what you say, effendim," he said; "but you must know that Wonckhaus Effendi has already preferred a charge against you--that you blocked up the road with rocks, so that it was impassable. That, you are aware, is a serious offence. No one but a military officer in the exercise of his duty is permitted to block a road."

"As I have already explained, excellency," said Frank patiently, "I merely completed what Herr Wonckhaus had begun. His design was obvious: the steps I took were taken solely for the purpose of safeguarding my merchandise."

"It is told me that you threatened him with violence."

"I said that if he threw down any more stones--committing, as you remarked, excellency, a serious offence--I would throw him after them. That, I submit, was perfectly justifiable in the circumstances."

"I will not argue with you, effendim. You ought to have engaged zaptiehs for your protection on your journey. The matter cannot rest here. I must submit it to the governor of the province; it may have to be referred ultimately to Stamboul. Meanwhile, I must order you to keep the peace with Wonckhaus Effendi, who has felt it necessary to ask for protection."

Seeing that no satisfaction would be derived from further parley, Frank took his leave and set off for home. He was somewhat surprised at the coolness of his reception. The military governor had only recently taken up office in the town; his predecessor had been a close personal friend of Mr. Forester, and Frank had assumed, almost as a matter of course, that the new official would be a man of the same stamp and equally well disposed. It was clear, however, from this his first official interview, that the governor was unwilling to hear both sides of a case and come to a just decision, or that he was ready to exercise partiality on the side of Wonckhaus. Frank was not troubled about the ultimate issue. The reference of the matter to the provincial governor, and possibly to the authorities at Constantinople, would postpone any decision for months, perhaps years. Meanwhile he would put all the facts before his father, who would know, better than he, how to deal with them.

Thinking of his father reminded him of the letter in his pocket. He took it out, tore open the envelope, and read:

MY DEAR FRANK,

A serious storm is brewing in Europe. Austria has sent an ultimatum to Serbia that on the face of it means war. Serbia can't accept its terms without losing her independence, and Russia will certainly support her. That will as certainly cause Germany to move; then France is bound by the terms of her alliance with Russia to come in. Unless something very suddenly intervenes, all Europe will be in a blaze, possibly before you receive this. In the opinion of certain important people here the whole thing is a put-up job on the part of Germany, who is backing Austria with the deliberate intention of forcing a war before Russia has reorganized her army. There is great excitement here. German agents have been active for a long time, but the general opinion is that Turkey will keep out of it. She had enough of war two years ago, and her finances are now at the lowest ebb. Still, one can never be sure how far the Germans may succeed in duping or bribing the Turks. In my belief, everything depends on whether we shall be drawn in. Grey will work hard for peace; he may succeed as he has done before; but if he fails I can't see any possibility of our keeping out of it. France will be knocked out in a month if the German fleet gets to work; and we can't stand by and look on at such a catastrophe. Well, if we do come in, Germany will move heaven and earth to induce the Turks to make a bid for Egypt; and certain firebrands here are silly enough in their self-conceit to play Germany's game and ruin their country. I hope for the best, but you must be ready to clear out at a moment's notice. Unluckily I have an urgent call to London; am starting at once, but hope to return soon. Keep your eye closely on events: our consul will have the latest or all but the latest news; and if affairs look serious, I shall come to Erzerum, close down and bring away the stock. We should be all right here for a time, at any rate; and if the worst does happen it will be easier to shape our course here than in your wilds. Meanwhile hold on, and be circumspect.

P.S. Just as well to keep your eye on H. W.

Frank replaced the letter in his pocket. Here was food for thought indeed. He knew that, so complicated were the relations of the European Powers, the outbreak of war between any two of them might easily involve the others, and bring about that vast and universal struggle which had often been talked about, and as often dismissed as improbable if not impossible. To a rational person it seemed sheer madness that Europe should be plunged into strife over the affairs of one little Balkan nation: was it possible that the prophets who had foretold just such a cataclysm would prove to be right after all? And what of Britain? Frank had unbounded faith in the British navy, but would Britain be able to limit herself to the exercise of sea-power? Yet how could she take an effective part in land warfare with her small army?

Pondering these questions, Frank arrived at his house almost unawares. He was roused from his reverie by the sight of Wonckhaus standing at his door, smoking a big pipe. The German smiled and seemed to be about to address him; but apparently he changed his mind. Frank paid no attention to him, but passed into his own house and sat down to his evening meal with a preoccupied air.