man-of-war, for internment at Malta. All were taken on mere suspicion, thrust into prison without trial!
Yet the naïveté of the whole proceeding is almost more puzzling than its high-handed injustice! These dangerous men (!), supposed to be plotting against Great Britain, are all huddled together, and left to their own devices, for two years—and then released! Were we afraid? Did we repent? Will Government never pursue one policy to its logical conclusion?
I could but "wonder about" these things as I knelt in prayer. Clouds of incense have filled the cathedral, the Blessed Sacrament is safely returned to the tabernacle, the huge candles are extinguished, and the veiled ladies are reverently leaving the dimly-lighted church. Cannot faith bring peace?
"There must be peace." I, who have faith in the spoken word, will declare it, everywhere and all the time, and will count him traitor who utters a word to the contrary. But I will tell them in Angora that "I am sorry for" Malta!
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Fethi Bey, Minister of the Interior, carries his comfortable Turkish philosophy to the last extreme. Whatever happens, he will say that "It might have been worse." In Malta, he acknowledged that he would have preferred greater comfort, but, then, "he might have been much more uncomfortable!" In any case, he seized upon the chance to learn English, and learnt it remarkably well. It is best, he believes, to understand an enemy; and, to that end, you must learn his language. Of Mr. Lloyd George, he declared that "Turkey owes him a debt of gratitude we can never repay. . . . But for the occupation of Smyrna, and the Malta coup d'état, there would have been no Nationalists. But for your Prime Minister we might all of us have been vassals. Indeed, we owe him a great deal."
When I asked him what to expect in Angora, he warned me that "I must not look for the luxuries of the Savoy."
