This statement, of course, was not true, but I could not persuade Enver that he was wrong. He expressed great appreciation for all that I had done, and regretted for my sake that he could not accept my advice. I told him that the foreigners had suggested that I threaten to give up the care of British and French interests. “Nothing would suit us better,” he quickly replied. “The only difficulty we have with you is when you come around and bother us with English and French affairs.” I asked him if I had ever given him any advice that had led them into trouble. He graciously replied that they had never yet made a mistake by following my suggestions. “Very well, take my advice in this case, too,” I replied. “You will find later that you have made no mistake by doing so. I tell you that it is my positive opinion that your cabinet is committing a terrible error by taking this step.” “But I have given orders to this effect,” Enver answered. “I cannot countermand them. If I did, my whole influence with the army would go. Once having given an order I never change it. My own wife asked me to have her servants exempted from military service and I refused. The Grand Vizier asked exemption for his secretary, and I refused him, because I had given orders. I never revoke orders and I shall not do it in this case. If you can show me some way in which this order can be carried out and your protégés still saved, I shall be glad to listen.” I had already discovered one of the most conspicuous traits in the Turkish character: its tendency to compromise and to bargain. Enver’s request for a suggestion now gave me an opportunity to play on this characteristic. “All right,” I said. “I think I can. I should think you could still carry out your orders without sending all the French and English residents down. If you would send only a few, you would still win your point. You could still maintain discipline in the army, and these few would be as strong a deterrent to the Allied fleet as sending all.” It seemed to me that Enver almost eagerly seized upon this suggestion as a way out of his dilemma. “How many will you let me send?” he asked quickly. The moment he put this question I knew that I had carried my point. “I would suggest that you take twenty English and twenty French--forty in all.” “Let me have fifty,” he said. “All right--we won’t haggle over ten,” I answered. “But you must make another concession. Let me pick out the fifty who are to go.” This agreement had relieved the tension, and now the gracious side of Enver’s nature began to show itself again. “No, Mr. Ambassador,” he replied. “You have prevented me from making a mistake this afternoon; now let me prevent you from making one. If you select the fifty men who are to go, you will simply make fifty enemies. I think too much of you to let you do that. I will prove to you that I am your real friend. Can’t you make some other suggestion?”