He was well-dressed, and carried in his hand a little roll of paper, as if to indicate his superior position. With considerable assurance he came in and took a seat upon one of the large leather trunks ranged round the room. Lady Adela, to whom he was evidently some kind of dependent, asked him what he wanted; and he replied, that hearing of my presence he had called now, hoping to meet me. He had heard, he said, that I had been to Europe, and could speak French and English, and was moreover a doctor, and could take photographs. All these qualifications and achievements he dwelt upon, implying untold congratulations upon their possession, his servile smirk never leaving him. Lady Adela ordered him to speak French with me, and he, to my surprise, addressed me in that language, which he had some difficulty in speaking, continually inserting Kurdish words in the conversation. He told me he had known it well once, and it appeared certainly that it was more a case of having forgotten than ignorance. But what forced itself upon the attention was the remarkable accent with which he spoke French, for had we been in Europe, he would have announced by his pronunciation a German nationality. One did not expect that of a Kurd speaking French, and I naturally asked him where he learned it, and received an evasive reply. In answer to my question as to his trade and occupation, he informed me with some pride that he was Lady Adela’s doctor, and wanted to know where I had graduated for the profession. I disclaimed any knowledge of surgery, and told him that whoever might be responsible for the rumour of my qualities as a physician, it was not myself, at which he appeared somewhat relieved, and told Lady Adela what I had said, while I followed it up with strong confirmation. Soon after, he took his leave and I mine. [Sidenote: A RENEGADE] So much curiosity had the man aroused in me that I went to my new friend, Mansur the Christian, to ask who was this Amin Effendi--the very name was not Kurdish. “That creature!” he exclaimed, with a snort of disgust, “may the curse of Iscariot be upon him!” and then, hastily remembering he spoke to a Musulman, fell to a sudden silence. “Well,” I said, “why?”