Wearing my suit of mufti and the felt hat which I bought on the day I escaped, White shook hands and left me, after a reminder that if he were captured my clothes would go to prison with him. He was far from cheerful, for it was Friday, the thirteenth of September; and he remembered that his capture in Mesopotamia had taken place on Friday, the thirteenth of September, 1915. Anxiously and uncomfortably, I waited through several hours of strained inactivity, fearing that if White, also, were recognized at the Prisoners' Bureau, disaster might overtake not only him, but our benefactor Mr. S. At six o'clock he burst into the wireless cabin with a beaming face and the joyous announcement: "I've seen S., and the money's not lost." White's Friday, the thirteenth of September, had been an exciting one. He walked into the doorway of the Prisoners of War Bureau, and speaking in English, asked for Mr. S. "Name?" inquired the porter. "Mr. Henry O'Neill, from Tarsus." "Do you know Mr. S.?" "Why, certainly, I'm a friend of his." And White felt in his waistcoat pocket, as if searching for a card. "His office is on the first floor," said the porter, satisfied. "Go straight up." With a gulp of relief White passed up the stairway. Like myself on the day before, he had to wait many minutes before Mr. S. was disengaged; and like myself he was horrified to see Levy, the Jew _kavass_ who had brought his letters and parcels to Gumuch Souyou Hospital. The _kavass_ beamed, and delivered himself of an oily greeting, but failed to remember where he had met White. "You speak as an Englishman," he said, after a few words of conversation. "You are a English prisoner, not?" "Of course I'm an English prisoner," admitted White, slapping Levy on the back. "My guard's waiting outside." The _kavass_ fetched a chair for White and seemed disposed to ask more troublesome questions. Just then the visitor who had been engaged with Mr. S. left the office, and White walked inside, praying that the _kavass_ and the porter would not compare notes, and identify Mr. Henry O'Neill, of Tarsus, with the British prisoner whose guard was waiting in the street. The door being closed White explained his real identity to Mr. S., and offered apologies for the dangerous visit to which he had been forced by our desperate situation. "You needn't worry about the money," said Mr. S., "I had no chance of paying it. I've destroyed the cheques."