The Washington times., 1918-12-15

"Oh. Alan, ! was so afraid you were not
coming. Did you know what day this is ?"
-Er-Tfnrsday," he said.
Its the tenth day Of Muharram," she
'Ts it, reailyi" he said politely 'How
jolly!"
1--WE been looking II up in Murray's-
the anniversary Of the death Of the grand
son Of the Prophet. It's quite wonderful.
they say, in the bazaar quarter-the O
csssion Of the acknowledgements and
Zikrs and everything. We must see the
sights" And then, noticing his distracted
afr, Don't you want to go with me, Alan"
"Er-oh, Of course-if it's quite all right
= for you to CO."
"AIl right? Why shouldn't 1t be?"
Rather rough for a girEand-er-
smelly"
'T wouldn't mind-that Is. Of course"
she added, "if there isn't something else
you want to do"
"oh. no-have you engaged drago-
man? Where do we go?'
"To the Musky and then to the Khan
ELKhalily, which fronts the Mosque OF
the Hasaneyn"-
@Hasaneyn, BY Jove," Jessup flashed
around, his eyes sparkling. Was II not
the Mosque Of Hasaneyn that Northby
Pasha had spoken of-the repository OF
the Arabic parchments which had sud-
denly taken on so great an Importance?
most interesting" said Jessup quietly.
Lets be on-by all means"
Constance curiously noted the sudden
change In his manner and followed him
down the terrace to where the dragoman
was awaiting them. The dragoman was a
tall person, who wore frock coat and
tarbush, and led them with many bowings
and scrapings to an arabeah drawn by
VnaHrs rzN NH ia
But Constance Masterson was not for
Summing in the elegance Of white Arab
steeds with jingling silver chains, and
much to the apparent disgust OF Mustapha
who must lose a fee, dismissed the driver
and signihed her intention to go afoot.
And so they started on around the railing
Of the Esbekiyeh Gardens, past the gayly
lighted Continental Hotel and the Opera
House, and in q few moments plunged
into the mysterious shadows Of the Musky.
It was here that they were Immediately
aware Of some unusual proceedings, for as
they walked on into the darkness, the
street being dimly lighted by the flares
from the shop windows, which were now
blocked with people. they found their
progress difficult. But Mustapha, their
dragoman, proved to be resourceful, and
after warning them not 20 resent the re-
marks Of individuals in the crowd, he man.
aged to get them through to a staIl, the
proprietor Of which he knew, where for
a consideration they were permitted to
stand upon chairs placed IN the doorway.
There was something barbaric in the
hoarse voices, something fantastic in the
play Of the yellow flares across the NOV
ing faces, glinting on tarbush and turDaB
and picking out Of the dim shadows above
the shapes Of the meshrebiya oriels, in
which here and there beyond halfopened
grilles could be seen dark, eager eyes
peertng down-everyvhere mystery and
its suggestion of things quaint or sordid
or tragic. To eyes used not so long ago
TO the gray Of London the contrast was
almost overpowering, and Constance Mas
terson clung to Alan Jessup's arm as
though that only were real
Jessup stood without comment, his
brows bent, apparently Indifferent to the
crowd which surged below him. But sud
denly he bent aside toward the east Of
his dragoman.
Two men have followed US from the
Esbekiyeh. Mustapha," he said. who
are they?'
Mustapha put on the air of innocence
which is the stock in trade Of all we'll
trained dragomans.
Two men! The Effendi must be mis-
taken"
mo, I'm not mistaken. In the doorway
other with the head dress"
Head dressI No, sir" said Mustapha
positively. Il have not seen him before
"H-m," said Jessup soberly.
constance Masterson had missed this
by-play, for her eyes and ears were in
tent upon the distant end OF the street.
whence came a glare of flaming torches,
the sounds OF barbaric noises and slowly
a cart appeared upon which were two
cressets of blazing wood which sent shad-
ows like the shapes of Jim and elfrit dane
ing along the walls
But 1t was the procession of half naked
men which followed that lent the final
touch OF the barbaric to the scene. Their
heads, faces and chests were horribly
gashed and they walked, some half bent
with their weakness, others proudly erect
and shouting hoarsely, ALI! Ali,
Hoseyn! Hoseyn!" while they beat their
bloody breasts or iogged themselves or
others with their cruel chains.
constance sank back against Alan's arm
with short gasp Of horror. and then
stared in a kind of fascination at the
gruesome sight. 1t was too horrible to be
even fantastic, yet too fantastic to be real.
The martyrs passed, their garments grow
ing darker and in their wake, upon a
horse, there passed a child, with streaks
OF red upon its garments, who represented
Hoseyn's son, Ali Akbar Then more Do
lice and the procession ended
You had better go back, Connie" said
Jessup.
-N-no, think not" she replied, but il
was most-er-appalling"
Mustapha smiled. The Effendi must
not be disturbed The martyrs will not
hurt themselves. And presently they will
all have supper together in a restaurant in