“No man,” he says, “can live without complete liberty and full freedom; nor can any nation. So long as the interests of my own country permit it, I will be the friend of all nations and all humanity; but when any nation begins to tamper with our freedom and our independence, as Germany did in the war, then we can only resist and fight to the bitter end. I sought to discover my people’s will, and I found they were ready for any sacrifice to defend their country. I had faith in the sons of Turkey, and my faith has justified itself to the utmost.” “There has, indeed, been no finer movement among the ‘despised and rejected’ since the world began.” * * * * * “Here comes my friend the sun,” I exclaimed; “a snow-capped Olympus, the cypress beneath the azure! Why is our driver using his whip with such unusual success, just when we want to linger and admire—— Do you know, my friend, should I paint this soil, in all its varied tones from ruby to terra-cotta, all men would cry out, ‘that woman always sees her Turkey _en coleur de rose_!’” “I will bear witness,” laughed my friend. “But, seriously,” I went on, “does it not mean iron; rich veins of iron that it would _pay_ someone to produce?” In this district of lonely marshland, one can at least rejoice in the cold for one reason. It has driven away the flies and mosquitoes. “Why does not your country find the capital and send over our unemployed ex-service men to help the Turks drain and cultivate these waste lands?” When I afterwards spoke of the possibility at Lausanne, I was told that “something might be done!” * * * * * Now we have reached Broussa, and our young Turks hurry forward to announce our arrival to the Governor. It is more trying than ever to lack springs, as we jolt over the loose cobbles of these primitive and neglected town streets. But I could cheerfully have put up with far greater discomfort to reach, at last, the “luxurious” (in comparison) Hotel Brotte, its glowing fire, can after can of water, clean sheets, and the blessed chance of changing one’s clothes and really _brushing_ one’s hair. [Illustration: THE TOMB OF THE SULTAN OSMAN AT BROUSSA. p. 272 ] This is _not_ the Savoy, but, surely, something better! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER XXXI A FEW DAYS IN BROUSSA—THE TRUE ISLAM ATMOSPHERE THE Governor who, once more, “comes from Malta,” has detailed a police officer to look after me during the five-days’ visit unexpectedly imposed upon us, since there is no boat leaving before then. My journey from Angora to Constantinople will, therefore, occupy ten days instead of the regulation two or three. We start out the first thing in the morning and do not return till dusk. I have never visited so many mosques, and their colouring seems even more exquisite than I have found it elsewhere.