He turned around to his table and began working his telegraph instrument. I shall never forget the picture; this huge Turk, sitting there in his grey pyjamas and his red fez, working industriously his own telegraph key, his young wife gazing at him through a little window, and the late afternoon sun streaming into the room. Evidently the ruler of Turkey was having his troubles, and, as the argument went on over the telegraph, Talaat would bang his key with increasing irritation. He told me that the pompous major at the station insisted on having Enver’s written orders, since orders over the wire might easily be counterfeited. It took Talaat some time to locate Enver, and then the dispute apparently started all over again. A piece of news which Talaat received at that moment over the wire almost ruined my case. After a prolonged thumping of his instrument, in the course of which Talaat’s face lost its geniality and became almost savage, he turned to me and said: “The English bombarded the Dardanelles this morning and killed two Turks!” And then he added: “We intend to kill three Christians for every Moslem killed!” For a moment I thought that everything was lost. Talaat’s face reflected only one emotion--hatred of the English. Afterward, when reading the Cromer report on the Dardanelles, I found that the British Committee stigmatised this early attack a mistake, as it gave the Turks an early warning of their plans. I can testify that it was a mistake for another reason, for I now found that these few stray shots almost destroyed my plans to get the foreign residents out of Turkey. Talaat was enraged, and I had to go over much of the ground again, but finally I succeeded in pacifying him once more. I saw that he was vacillating between his desire to punish the English and his desire to assert his own authority over that of Enver and the Germans. Fortunately the latter motive gained the ascendancy. At all hazard, he was determined to show that he was boss. We remained there more than two hours, my involuntary host pausing now and then in his telegraphing to entertain me with the latest political gossip. Djavid, the Minister of Finance, he said, had resigned, but had promised to work for them at home. The Grand Vizier, despite his threats, had been persuaded to retain his office. Foreigners in the interior would not be molested unless Beirut, Alexandretta, or some unfortified port were bombarded, but, if such attacks were made, they would exact reprisals of the French and English. Talaat’s conversation showed that he had no particular liking for the Germans. They were overbearing and insolent, he said, constantly interfering in military matters, and treating the Turks with disdain.