CHAPTER VI

RIGOUR

It was now the beginning of September. Frank had received no letters from Europe for two or three weeks, nor the parcel of London newspapers which he was accustomed to get by the weekly mail. He suspected that this had been confiscated by the officials. All the news he heard was that given out by the authorities, together with that which was brought him by Joseph, who was in a position to learn more than was common property. His father, Isaac Kopri, the contractor, included in his business organization a private intelligence department. He got important news as a rule long before the general public, and often before the officials themselves. The value of his information of course depended on its source, and his agents could only pass on what was officially given out in the towns where they were stationed, and the unofficial rumours that passed from mouth to mouth. Thus it happened that, even five weeks after the outbreak of war, Frank knew next to nothing of the actual course of events, and, if he had believed what was reported, would have been wretched because Paris and Warsaw were in the hands of the Germans, the British navy was annihilated, all the British colonies in revolt, and London at the mercy of the enemy.

One day, happily, Joseph brought in, hidden in the folds of his garments, a number of London newspapers which had come into the hands of his father. From these Frank learnt that though Belgium was occupied by the Germans, their offensive had been checked in all quarters, and their hope of an easy and a speedy triumph was shattered. What most deeply interested him, however, was the news that Lord Kitchener was creating an immense new army, the ranks of which were being rapidly filled by volunteers from every class and section of the people. This did but increase his eagerness to get away from Erzerum. He longed for the day to come when he might hurry back to England and enlist in what promised to be the first national army that Britain had put into the field since the far-gone days when every citizen was a soldier as a matter of course.

Day by day it grew clearer from Joseph's reports that Germany would drag Turkey into the war. Wonckhaus was constantly at the Governor's house; the Governor's aides-de-camp were frequent visitors to Wonckhaus. The 9th Army Corps was being brought up to full strength, and German officers were drilling the recruits. It was even announced that the Governor himself would shortly be replaced by a German officer of high rank. One morning Joseph announced that Wonckhaus had appeared in the uniform of a major in the Turkish army; it had become known that in his own country he had been a captain of Landwehr. The ostensible merchant had been all along, it was clear, an agent of the German Government.

Weeks passed, irksomely, drearily. No letter came from Mr. Forester. Frank was never allowed to leave his house. Night and day a sentry stood on guard. Frank could take exercise only in his yard and on his roof. He did his best to keep himself in condition by means of gymnastic practice, but he was becoming low-spirited and sick of his life. Ideas of attempting escape often came to him, but were always checked by the thought of his stock, worth several thousands of pounds, which he felt he could not leave to be confiscated. To sell it was impossible. In the present situation no one would buy it; if any one were so rash as to purchase, he would probably be making a present of his money and the goods to the Turkish officials.

Frank's fears in this regard were confirmed by the news brought him one day by Joseph. The _Goeben_ and the _Breslau_ had been attacking Russian vessels in the Black Sea. War was certain. A matter that affected Frank more closely was a conversation which Kopri had partially overheard between the new German Governor and Wonckhaus. Frank's name had been mentioned, in what connection Kopri, being ignorant of German, did not know. But he suggested that the authorities were only awaiting a formal declaration of war to seize the Foresters' stock, among other English property. Wonckhaus was well aware of its value, and apart from its usefulness in assisting the Turkish finances, Wonckhaus had a personal grudge to pay off.

This news set Frank in a ferment. Every other consideration was now subordinated in his mind to the question of saving his stock. He was at his wits' end. He consulted with Joseph, but Joseph seemed unable to suggest any likely means. It was only at the end of a long conversation that the Armenian sprang a surprise upon him.

In Erzerum, owing to the constantly recurring troubles, the Armenians have various hiding-places in which they secrete their valuables and occasionally themselves. The whereabouts of these spots is jealously guarded, and it was only when Frank had given up his problem in despair that Joseph divulged a secret locked up in his breast.

"Why on earth didn't you tell me this before?" demanded Frank with some indignation.

Joseph begged for forgiveness on the plea that the secret belonged to his community, and he had his father's permission to reveal it only in the last resort.

"Well, send the servants out of the house on some errand or other, and then show me the place."

The house was an old one, which had played a part in the troubled history of the city. When the servants had been disposed of, Joseph took Frank to one of the lower rooms. The back wall was apparently built against the solid hillside; but a sliding panel, cunningly disguised, gave access to a narrow passage which bent abruptly to the left. Groping his way through this for some distance at Joseph's heels, Frank found himself in a small chamber about eight feet square. He sniffed.

"What is this smell of smoke?" he asked.

"There is a narrow pipe running into the chimney next door," Joseph replied.

"Does Wonckhaus know of it?" asked Frank instantly.

"It is not at all likely. Karamin, who owns this house, probably does not know of it. If he does, he would not tell Wonckhaus. I should not have told you but----"

"Yes, yes; I understand. But this is capital. We can bring here the most valuable part of our stock; it won't do to bring it all, for Wonckhaus would suspect a hiding-place if he found all our things gone. Come, let us do it at once."

Together they worked for an hour or two in transporting the most valuable rugs, including Mirza Aga's, to the secret chamber. When this was done, and the panel replaced, Frank felt exultingly confident that the inevitable search would completely baffle the enemy.

He had not long to wait for confirmation of his faith. October dragged away; on November 2 the streets were filled with excited people, cheering the news that the British and Russian ambassadors had left Constantinople. In anticipation of the outbreak of hostilities troops had been for some days marching eastward and north-eastward towards the Russian frontier and the Caucasus, deluded by their German officers into the belief that Russia had withdrawn the greater part of her forces from Transcaucasia to withstand the German onslaught on Poland, and that they would have an easy task in recovering the ground lost in the war of 1878.

On the same day, a Turkish officer with a file of men came to Frank's house. Leaving the men at the door, he entered.

"I regret, effendim," he said to Frank politely, "that I have orders to arrest you and convey you to the citadel."

"For what reason, and on what charge?" asked Frank.

"Your country and mine are now at war, effendim. As an alien of military age, you cannot remain at large. Besides, there is that matter of blocking the road. The higher authorities at Stamboul have not yet given their decision; but in the meantime the Governor deems it necessary to imprison you. I assure you of my personal regret, and on the Governor's part that your treatment shall be as mild as possible."

Frank did not then know what mildness meant, as interpreted by German military officers. The Turkish lieutenant's politeness and apologetic manner prevented him from feeling any personal resentment at the moment.

While he was gathering a few things together, Wonckhaus came in. The German was so impatient to secure his booty, and possibly to enjoy the spectacle of his victim's humiliation, that he had not waited for Frank's departure. Accompanied by one of his clerks, he hastened to the storeroom, and taking from his pocket a list of the stock, obtained Frank knew not how, began to call over the items.

"You take an inventory for the purpose of safeguarding my property and returning it at the end of the war, I presume," said Frank to the Turk.

"That I know nothing about," was the answer. "The Governor will no doubt do everything in order. Are you ready, effendim?"

"In a minute or two, if you don't mind waiting until Major Wonckhaus has completed his task."

Wonckhaus's voice could be heard from the storeroom.

"The rug of Shiraz, 16 by 12. Where is that? Not here? And the Khorassan rug of Mirza Aga. Not here? But it must be here. It has not been sold. It has not been removed. Pull down that big Ispahan carpet; it may be under that."

A few minutes passed. Wonckhaus was growing furious. He uttered a resounding German curse.

"Come, we must search the house," he cried.

He returned to the room where Frank stood, glared at him savagely, glanced around, and assuring himself that the rugs on the floor were of no great value, proceeded to a systematic search of the premises. He ransacked every room, and went so far as to strip the roof of its turf. But nowhere could he find the Khorassan rug of Mirza Aga, or several other rugs representing some tens of thousands of German marks.

Frank, in spite of his situation, was amused. Wonckhaus, he thought, could hardly show his hand so completely as to demand information about property which was in no way his concern, and his rage and air of bafflement when he returned to the lower room was certainly comical to witness. Frank's amusement would have been less if he could have foreseen what the discrepancy between the actual stock and the list was to cost him.

Plunder was Wonckhaus's object, and, to Frank's surprise--he did not yet know German shamelessness---Wonckhaus now made no secret of it. He went to the office desk, wrenched it open--"He might at least have asked for the key," thought Frank--and examined the stock book. He wheeled round.

"The stock is short," he cried. "What have you done with the goods?"

Frank looked at him with a smile, but said nothing.

"Do you hear?" shouted Wonckhaus, the charm of manner which had won him a certain popularity among the Europeans dropping from him like a loosened garment. "What have you done with the goods?"

Frank turned to the Turkish officer.

"Major Wonckhaus is curious about my business," he said. "I have no information to give."

Wonckhaus blustered. He roared at Joseph, who had been standing silent in the background.

"You fellow, where are the rugs? What have you done with them?"

"I am my master's servant," said Joseph quietly.

"And your father's son!" cried the German. "You will tell me instantly what I want to know, or you will find yourself laid by the heels, and the army will have another contractor."

Wonckhaus had lost his temper, or he would have reflected that a change of contractors at this critical moment was out of the question. Joseph was shrewd enough to perceive the emptiness of his threat, and merely replied that he could say nothing without his master's orders.

At this moment, while Wonckhaus was glaring with baffled rage at Frank and his faithful clerk, a non-commissioned officer came in.

"A message from the Governor, effendim," he said to the lieutenant. "The Englishman is to be kept a prisoner in the upper storey of this house, the lower storey will be occupied by his guards."

To Frank this was very agreeable news. He had felt unhappy at the prospect of being shut up in the common prison, or even in the soldiers' prison at the citadel: Turkish jails are unsavoury places. In his own house he would at least be able to keep clean. Moreover, he would then be able, in a sense, to watch over his carpets. The hiding-place could hardly be discovered without his hearing of it, and there would be a certain satisfaction in knowing that his property was still safe, or, if it were found, in learning definitely what had become of it. He afterwards discovered that the change of plan was due to the British consul, who had learnt of the order for his arrest when he applied for a passport for him, and had obtained this indulgence from the Governor.

Frank noticed that Wonckhaus also appeared to get some satisfaction from the change. The German made no further attempt to obtain the information he desired, and left the house. Frank was taken upstairs and locked in his own bedroom. Joseph, however, was marched off by a couple of the soldiers, and it was some few days before Frank learnt what had become of him.