THE RED RUGS OF TARSUS
valiantly. The sparks are flying toward us, driven by a heavy wind, and eternal vigilance is required to note every spark the moment it falls, to quench it in time. The blaze is so bril- liant that we can read by it. A telegram came from Herbert about eleven o'clock. I signed the receipt by the light of the flames. I can- not read it. It is a mixture of Turkish and French. What I can make out is the hour of sending this means that twenty-one hours ago he was still alive.
Our condition is becoming desperate. The fire threatens us. The fury of the mob may lead them to attack us. We are sheltering more than four thousand refugees, a wailing, terror-stricken mass, all trying to get out of bullet range.
We have not been able to get any word to the outside world : we realize now that Adana is cut off and we feel sure that our husbands are in as desperate a plight as are we. Word must go to Mersina. We have a Turkish hand-writ-
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