member of the Cabinet, Enver insisted on keeping a decorous interval between ourselves and the other pair of horsemen. I was somewhat amused by this, for I knew that Talaat was the more powerful politician; yet he accepted the discrimination and only once did he permit his horse to pass Enver and myself. At this violation of the proprieties, Enver showed his displeasure, whereat Talaat paused, reined up his horse, and passed submissively to the rear.
"I was merely showing Dr. Gates the gait of my horse," he said, with an apologetic air.
But I was interested in more important matters than such fine distinctions in official etiquette; I was determined to talk about the Armenians. But again I failed to make any progress. Enver found more interesting subjects of discussion.
He began to talk of his horses, and now another incident illustrated the mercurial quality of the Turkish mind—the readiness with which a Turk passes from acts of monstrous criminality to acts of individual kindness. Enver said that the horse races would take place soon and regretted that he had no jockey.
"I'll give you an English jockey," I said. "Will you make a bargain? He is a prisoner of war; if he wins will you give him his freedom?"
"I'll do it," said Enver.
This man, whose name was Fields, actually entered the races as Enver's jockey, and came in third. He rode for his freedom, as Mr. Philip said! Since he did not come in first, the Minister was not obliged, by the terms of his agreement, to let him return to England, but Enver stretched a point and gave him his liberty.
