CHAPTER VIII
EMOTIONS AND IMPRESSIONS—"ON THE WAY."—NOWHERE TO HOUSE THE POOR PEOPLE
It was, indeed, a kindly Providence that led the
cheik to accompany us upon this stage of my tour.
No one could have been more polite and thoughtful,
more ready to gratify my every wish at great personal
sacrifice, than the officer from Smyrna. But he had
not been at Oxford; he could not speak our language
with the distinguished accent of that University;
above all, he had not the vast culture of this man of
God. His information would have been conveyed in
German, a language I speak with no pleasure.
The cheik has large brown eyes, a dusky skin, and a face which, though stamped with suffering, is kindness itself. He wore a long grey coat and turban, and appeared to me at that moment years older than his actual age. Maybe my inborn veneration for Oxford professors misled me; and no doubt I was also influenced by the obvious respect of the many hoary-headed disciples who came to the station to bid their "Master" farewell, bending to kiss his hand and receive his blessing. Great erudition, again, must always add to a man's appearance of age, and his allusions to varied experiences in many a Moslem land did certainly suggest the passing of years.
Like myself, however, he was going to Angora for the first time, venturing behind the long line of bayonets which still separates that troubled land from the rest of the world.
In complete sympathy with my admiration for these men who had suffered and been victorious, he was
