When he had been dead some days the Director sent to Psamatia a kind request to the officer to come and talk to his friend, with private directions that they were to be told the man had just died when they came. Anyway, by the end of the third day after the "torpedoing," my patience was at an end. I had learned, after many weeks, how difficult it was to get out of a hospital once one was in. After more scenes I left in the evening in an _arabana_, bearing a letter in Turkish, saying I had been excellently treated and had received the best attention possible. On arrival at Psamatia my little sad room seemed heaven again. I was alone, and the groaning of the Russians was somewhere away. The new commandant was haughty and somewhat Germanic, but I found him a much better fellow, and straight. He did what he promised. He heard my complaints about the men, and rectified their pay and provisions, he got us money, and sent me, on one occasion, a Polish book to read--which tickled me. I found he meant well, and decided to cultivate his good graces, which I did in German. He had had four years in Berlin, but sided against us in the war. Anyway, he let me go to see Dr. König, a German eye specialist from the _Goeben_, at a marine hospital around the harbour. _En route_, the posta with me led me across the station, and in the crowd I went to ascertain how to get a ticket, and found they would have issued one to me right enough. Vesikas (passports), etc., were necessary, however, for the train, which went only so far as San Stefano! While awaiting Dr. König, I talked to a delightful old French lady nurse, who was seventy years of age, and had not been allowed to leave. I mixed freely with German sailors from the _Goeben_, and heard of their escape from our fleet. They thought they would win the war, but seemed less confident than before for an early peace. They were all very loyal, and stuck to it that their country was well provided for, and "sehr billig." König I found a very capable and courteous officer, and quite efficient. He prescribed most carefully for my eyes, told me to avoid all glare, to follow his precautions, and I might prevent my eye trouble from becoming chronic. He explained my blurred vision and periodical darkness as nervous exhaustion, and related it to my spine, where it had been bumped by the shell explosion. He ordered rest and quiet, and sent me to his colleague, a nerve specialist. The net result was that I was not allowed to get the medicine as the shop recommended was not a Turk's, and I was sent to a Turkish nerve doctor, who mixed the whole thing up, and thought an operation on the eye was necessary, but, later on, said he had meant the other eye! I felt like operating on both of his.