The stranger watched the fire; then he said musingly, “I have seen a land far from here. In that land are men of two kinds who live side by side. Well nigh a thousand years ago one conquered the other; they have lived together since. Today the one people seeks to drive forth the other who conquered them. Are these men rebels, too?” “Well,” said Peter, pleased at being deferred to, “that all depends who they are, you know!” “They call the one nation Turks, and the other Armenians,” said the stranger. “Oh, the Armenians aren’t rebels,” said Peter; “they are on our side! The papers are all full of it,” said Peter, pleased to show his knowledge. “Those bloody Turks! What right had they to conquer the Armenians? Who gave them their land? I’d like to have a shot at them myself!” “WHY are Armenians not rebels?” asked the stranger, gently. “Oh, you do ask such curious questions,” said Peter. “If they don’t like the Turks, why should they have ‘em? If the French came now and conquered us, and we tried to drive them out first chance we had; you wouldn’t call us rebels! Why shouldn’t they try to turn those bloody Turks out? Besides,” said Peter, bending over and talking in the manner of one who imparts secret and important information; “you see, if we don’t help the Armenians the Russians would; and we,” said Peter, looking exceedingly knowing, “we’ve got to prevent that: they’d get the land; and it’s on the road to India. And we don’t mean them to. I suppose you don’t know much about politics in Palestine?” said Peter, looking kindly and patronisingly at the stranger. “If these men,” said the stranger, “would rather be free, or be under the British Government, than under the Chartered Company, why, when they resist the Chartered Company, are they more rebels than the Armenians when they resist the Turk? Is the Chartered Company God, that every knee should bow before it, and before it every head be bent? Would you, the white men of England, submit to its rule for one day?” “Ah,” said Peter, “no, of course we shouldn’t, but we are white men, and so are the Armenians--almost--” Then he glanced at the stranger’s dark face, and added quickly, “At least, it’s not the colour that matters, you know. I rather like a dark face, my mother’s eyes are brown--but the Armenians, you know, they’ve got long hair like us.” “Oh, it is the hair, then, that matters,” said the stranger softly. “Oh, well,” said Peter, “it’s not altogether, of course. But it’s quite a different thing, the Armenians wanting to get rid of the Turks, and these bloody niggers wanting to get rid of the Chartered Company. Besides, the Armenians are Christians, like us!” “Are YOU Christians?” A strange storm broke across the stranger’s features; he rose to his feet. “Why, of course, we are!” said Peter. “We’re all Christians, we English. Perhaps you don’t like Christians, though? Some Jews don’t, I know,” said Peter, looking up soothingly at him.