“You see how shamefully you treated these young men,” I now said to Enver; “you should do something to make amends.” “All right; what would you suggest?” Stoker and Fitzgerald were prisoners of war, and, according to the usual rule, would have been sent back to the prison camp after being released from their dungeon. I now proposed that Enver should give them a vacation of eight days in Constantinople. He entered into the spirit of the occasion, and the men were released. They certainly presented a sorry sight; they had spent twenty-five days in the dungeon, with no chance to bathe or to shave, with no change of linen or any of the decencies of life. But Mr. Philip took charge, furnished them the necessaries, and in a brief period we had before us two young and handsome British naval officers. Their eight days’ freedom turned out to be a triumphal procession, notwithstanding that they were always accompanied by an English-speaking Turkish officer. Monsignor Dolci and the American Embassy entertained them at dinner, and they had a pleasant visit to the Girls’ College. When the time came to return to their prison camp, the young men declared that they would be glad to spend another month in dungeons if they could have a corresponding period of freedom in the city when liberated. In spite of all that has happened I shall always have a kindly feeling toward Enver for his treatment of Fitzgerald. I told the Minister of War about the lieutenant’s engagement. “Don’t you think he’s been punished enough?” I asked. “Why don’t you let the boy go home and marry his sweetheart?” The proposition immediately appealed to Enver’s sentimental side. “I’ll do it,” he replied, “if he will give me his word of honour not to fight against Turkey any more.” Fitzgerald naturally gave this promise, and so his comparatively brief stay in the dungeon had the result of freeing him from imprisonment and restoring him to happiness. As poor Stoker had formed no romantic attachments that would have justified a similar plea in his case, he had to go back to the prison in Asia Minor. He did this, however, in a genuinely sporting spirit that was worthy of the best traditions of the British Navy. CHAPTER XXI BULGARIA ON THE AUCTION BLOCK The failure of the Allied fleet at the Dardanelles did not definitely settle the fate of Constantinople. Naturally the Turks and the Germans felt immensely relieved when the fleet sailed away. But they were by no means entirely easy in their mind. The most direct road to the ancient capital still remained available to their enemies. In early September, 1915, one of the most influential Germans in the city gave me a detailed explanation of the prevailing military situation. He summed up the whole matter in the single phrase: “We cannot hold the Dardanelles without the military support of Bulgaria.”