Each of us was taken charge of by two policemen, who linked their arms in ours. Presently the order to march was given, and a dismal procession, consisting of two weeping women, a seedy-smart individual in a bowler hat, two youths in slippers and shirt-sleeves, and a Greek waiter, could be seen wending their way to the Central Gaol of Stamboul. CHAPTER XI THE BLACK HOLE OF CONSTANTINOPLE Before leaving, we had protested strongly against the treatment of the women in the house. "But they are Turkish subjects," said the detectives. "Anyway, they are women," we protested. But this had little effect. Theodore and his unfortunate family were marched off behind us to the Central Gaol. I think, however, that our protest was not quite in vain, for it gave the women courage. When I last saw them, before being taken to the Chief of Police, they had dried their tears. Eventually they were released, but not, alas! until they had endured much suffering. The Chief of Police congratulated us on being safe once more in Turkish hands. "Yes, we are comfortably back in prison," I said with a faint smile, "and therefore there is surely no harm in giving us back the personal trifles that the detectives took from us." "I cannot give you your papers," he said. "There is a forged passport here, amongst other things." "Very well, do as you like about that," I said, shrugging my shoulders, "but surely my empty pocket-book and my watch might be returned." To this he agreed, whereupon he handed me-- (_a_) My pocket-book, containing five pounds hidden in the lining. (_b_) My watch, and a compass, which he mistook for another timepiece. (_c_) My false moustache, which had been captured on my person. I was in an agony of anxiety about this moustache. Had the police inquired at the only two hairdressers' where such things were made, they would have found that Miss Whitaker had ordered it for me only ten days before. But now it was safely in my possession again. I had the only connecting link of evidence that might incriminate Miss Whitaker in my trouser pocket, and was tearing it to shreds as I talked to the Chief of Police. The interview passed on a note of felicitation, until the very end. After praising the smart way his men had surrounded the house, and receiving his congratulations on our escapes, just as if the whole thing was a game, we said that there was one criticism we had to make on police methods, and that was their treatment of women. "They are Turkish subjects," snapped the Chief of Police, suddenly showing his teeth. "They are women," we retorted, "and they are innocent. If they are maltreated----" "I know how to manage my affairs," he said with a gasp of annoyance. "Certainly. But if they are maltreated you will be responsible after the war." To this he made no reply.