“I must go strictly according to rules in this matter,” he said. And, in the goodness of his heart, he did speak to Saïd Halim. Following this example, Wangenheim also spoke to the Grand Vizier. In Wangenheim’s case, however, the protest was merely intended for the official record. “You may fool some people,” I told the German Ambassador, “but you know that speaking to the Grand Vizier in this matter is as inconsequential as shouting in the air.” However, there was one member of the diplomatic corps who worked whole-heartedly on behalf of the threatened foreigners. This was M. Koloucheff, the Bulgarian Minister. As soon as he heard of this latest Turco-German outrage, he immediately came to me with offers of assistance. He did not propose to waste his time by a protest to the Grand Vizier, but announced his intention of going immediately to the source of authority, Enver himself. Koloucheff was an extremely important man at that particular time, for Bulgaria was then neutral and both sides were angling for her support. Meanwhile Bedri and his minions were busy arresting all the doomed English and French. The deportation was arranged to take place on Thursday morning. On Wednesday the excitement reached the hysterical stage. It seemed as if the whole foreign population of Constantinople had gathered at the American Embassy. Scores of weeping women and haggard men assembled in front and at the side of the building; more than three hundred gained personal access to my office, hanging desperately upon the Ambassador and his staff. Many almost seemed to think that I personally held their fates in my hand; in their agony of spirit some even denounced me, insisting that I was not exerting all my powers on their behalf. Whenever I left my office and passed into the hall I was almost mobbed by scores of terror-stricken and dishevelled mothers and wives. The nervous tension was frightful; I seized the telephone, called up Enver, and demanded an interview. He replied that he would be happy to receive me on Thursday. By this time, however, the prisoners would already have been on their way to Gallipoli. “No,” I replied, “I must see you this afternoon.” Enver made all kinds of excuses; he was busy, he had appointments scheduled for the whole day. “I presume you want to see me about the English and French,” he said. “If that is so, I can tell you now that it will be useless. Our minds are made up. Orders have been issued to the police to gather them all by to-night and to ship them down to-morrow morning.” I still insisted that I must see him that afternoon, and he still attempted to dodge the interview. “My time is all taken,” he said. “The Council of Ministers sits at four o’clock, and the meeting is to be a very important one. I can’t absent myself.” Emboldened by the thought of the crowds of women that were flooding the whole Embassy, I decided on an altogether unprecedented move.