at last what is Truth or Justice, where are the profits of self-sacrifice? Love and joy are, after all, but the "negatives" of grief and hate. Abolish the dark couple, and you will gain the light.
For the moment, however, the soldiers of to-morrow are content. They have never tasted alcohol; miserably clad, without proper clothing or shelter, they sit about us expressionless and resigned—singing hymns of joy that sound far more like a funeral dirge. There is no need for thought, since they are ready to die for their fatherland, their leader, their faith.
Yet, though they know I come from an "enemy" country, there is no kindness and consideration they will not extend to a woman who trusts them. Where is the Bolshevism of those who have lifted me over every step of mud, and are even now girding their loins to carry me onwards for forty miles? Will they massacre, who, at my bidding, would lay them down for me to walk over were I to make such an idle request? Fear belongs to those responsible for England's injustice. They, indeed, among these people, would be torn limb from limb and trampled on unto death.
We have no horses or anything on four legs to draw the loaded wagonette, that must now carry the cheik and myself, in addition to its usual cargo of food and varied wrappings. I have, certainly, had "smarter" escorts than the men now drawing our "equipage," but never any with kinder hearts.
There is no thought here of payment for service. Money is firmly refused; and from those who have, and seek, absolutely nothing for themselves, such a welcome could not fail to touch the most callous of human beings. How is it that all Europe declares no one can "manage" these simple folk? My own receipt for life with the Moslem—of mere courteous consideration and unquestioning trust—has been repaid with compound interest a thousand times!
