“I shall not be denied an interview,” I replied. “I shall come up to the Council Room at four o’clock. If you refuse to receive me then, I shall insist on going into the Council Room and discussing the matter with the whole Cabinet. I shall be interested to learn whether the Turkish Cabinet will refuse to receive the American Ambassador.” It seemed to me that I could almost hear Enver gasp over the telephone. I presume few responsible Ministers of any country have ever had such an astounding proposition made to them. “If you will meet me at the Sublime Porte at 3.30,” he answered, after a considerable pause, “I shall arrange to see you.” When I reached the Sublime Porte I was told that the Bulgarian Minister was having a protracted conference with Enver. Naturally, I was willing to wait, for I knew what the two men were discussing. Presently M. Koloucheff came out; his face was tense and anxious, clearly revealing the ordeal through which he had just passed. “It is perfectly hopeless,” he said to me. “Nothing will move Enver; he is absolutely determined that this thing shall go through. I cannot wish you good luck, for you will have none.” The meeting which followed between Enver and myself was the most momentous I had had up to that time. We discussed the fate of the foreigners for nearly an hour. I found Enver in one of his most polite but most unyielding moods. He told me before I began that it was useless to talk--that the matter was a closed issue. But I insisted on telling him what a splendid impression Turkey’s treatment of her enemies had made on the outside world. “Your record in this matter is better than that of any other belligerent country,” I said. “You have not put them into concentration camps, you have let them stay here and continue their ordinary business, just as before. You have done this in spite of strong pressure to act otherwise. Why do you destroy all the good effect this has produced by now making such a fatal mistake as you propose?” But Enver insisted that the Allied fleets were bombarding unfortified towns, killing women, children, and wounded men. “We have warned them through you that they must not do this,” he said, “but they don’t stop.” 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.