“Never mind all these considerations,” I said. “Let us disregard everything--military necessity, State policy, and all else--and let us look upon this simply as a human problem. Remember that most of the people who are being treated in this way are old men, old women, and helpless children. Why can’t you, as a human being, see that these people are permitted to live?” “At the present stage of internal affairs in Turkey,” Wangenheim replied, “I shall not intervene.” I saw that it was useless to discuss the matter further. He was a man who was devoid of sympathy and human pity, and I turned from him in disgust. Wangenheim rose to leave. As he did so he gave a gasp, and his legs suddenly shot from under him. I jumped and caught him just as he was falling. For a minute he seemed utterly dazed; he looked at me in a bewildered way, then suddenly collected himself and regained his poise. I took the Ambassador by the arm, piloted him downstairs and put him into his auto. By this time he had apparently recovered from his dizzy spell and he reached home safely. Two days afterward, while sitting at his dinner-table, he had a stroke of apoplexy; he was carried upstairs to his bed, but never regained consciousness. On October 24th I was officially informed that Wangenheim was dead. And this, my last recollection of Wangenheim, is that of the Ambassador as he sat in my office in the American Embassy, absolutely refusing to exert any influence to prevent the massacre of a nation. He was the one man who could have stopped these crimes, and his Government the one Government, but, as Wangenheim told me many times, “our one aim is to win this war.” A few days afterward official Turkey and the diplomatic force paid their last tribute to this finished embodiment of the Prussian system. Wangenheim was buried in the Park of the Summer Embassy at Therapia, by the side of his comrade Col. Leipzig. No resting-place could have been more appropriate, for this had been the scene of his diplomatic successes, and if was from here that, a little more than two years before, he had directed by wireless the _Goeben_ and the _Breslau_, safely brought them into Constantinople, made it inevitable that Turkey should join forces with Germany, and paved the way for all the triumphs and all the horrors that had necessarily followed that event. CHAPTER XXVIII ENVER AGAIN MOVES FOR PEACE--FAREWELL TO THE SULTAN AND TO TURKEY