In this foetid den, and near the trio already mentioned, was a young Persian girl of attractive appearance--an unregenerate Magdalene, as it turned out, who had been put in chains for a breach of the somewhat elastic Persian law governing public morality. She alone made no protestation of innocence and no appeal for release. Perhaps that was why I suggested she should be the first to have her fetters struck off and be set free. She seemed dumbfounded at first, but on realizing that liberty awaited her, she burst into tears, and showed her gratitude by kissing my hand. It seemed a pity to leave the other poor wretches, however guilty they might have been, to rot in this terrible dungeon; so I availed myself to the full of the privilege of the amnesty and asked that all should be liberated, including the loquacious Jew debtor. This was done, and the poor, dazed creatures walked out of the prison doors and once more breathed the purer air of freedom. With the granting of the armistice to Austria came the welcome orders for the British force to evacuate Bijar and retire to Hamadan. On news of Austria's defection from the side of her German ally becoming known, the Governor arrived to offer fresh felicitations. {249} But a shadow clouded his beaming self-satisfied countenance when he learned that the British were to withdraw immediately. He became greatly perturbed at the news, for he feared the ever-present menace of Kurdish incursions, and trembled for the safety of Bijar and the wealth of its Bazaar. "What will become of us all?" he asked in despair. "When the British go, the Kurds will come, and then----" He made a significant gesture across his throat. The Governor returned next day with a deputation of the inhabitants to ask that a British garrison might be left behind to carry out the duty which really devolved upon the Persian Government, that of protecting its subjects against acts of lawlessness. He pleaded hard and earnestly. They would find fuel, food, and quarters free for the soldiers who were to remain. First he suggested twenty, then a dozen, and finally he said, "Take pity on us, and send a message by the lightning-flash (wireless) to the British King asking him to permit three of his soldiers to remain here to protect the people. Then the Kurds will never bother us at all." It was certainly a tribute to our worth and fighting value. Gently but firmly the Governor had to be led to understand that it was impossible. The soldiers had homes and wives in far-off Faringistan across the Black Water; their duty was done, and home they must go. The deputation set off with bowed heads and {250} sorrowing hearts. It was kismet, and the decree of Destiny could not be set aside. The wealthier inhabitants, however, made every effort to save themselves and their worldly possessions. All available transport was bought up at enhanced prices, and an exodus from Bijar preceded the British evacuation.