(Could they be otherwise?) . . . Abdul Hamid, the blood-stained Sultan, had issued a ferman against Christians. The hounds of the Prophet, Turks, Kurds, Circassians, rally to the green banners, to burn and plunder, to massacre Armenian folk. But they had reckoned without Gabriel Bagradian. He assembles his own. He leads them into the mountains. With indescribable valor he fights off this overwhelming power and beats it back.

 

 

Gabriel could not shake off these childish fantasies. He, the Parisian, Juliette's husband, the savant, the officer minded to do his duty as a Turkish subject, and who knew the realities of modern warfare, was also, simultaneously, a boy who with primitive blood-hate flung himself on the arch-enemy of his race. The dream of every Armenian boy. To be sure it only lasted an instant. But Gabriel marvelled and smiled ironically before falling asleep.

 

 

 

 

Bagradian started up with a certain fear. Someone had watched him closely as he slept. Apparently he had been asleep some time. He looked up, into the quietly glowing eyes of Stephan his son. Some distinctly unpleasant, even if vague, sensation invaded him. It is not for a son to come upon his father as he sleeps. Some profound law of custom had been violated. His voice was rather sharp as he asked: "What are you doing here? Where's Monsieur Avakian?"

 

 

Now Stephan, too, seemed embarrassed at having found his father asleep. He did not quite know what to do with his hands. His full lips opened. He was wearing schoolboy clothes, a Norfolk jacket, short stockings, a wide collar out over the coat. He tugged at his jacket as he answered: "Maman said I could go for a walk by myself. This is Monsieur Avakian's free day. We don't do any work on Sundays."

 

 

"We're not in France now, but in Syria, Stephan," his father somewhat ominously explained. "Next time you mustn't come straying about the hills alone."

 

 

Stephan eyed his father eagerly, as though in addition to this mild scolding he were expecting more important directions. But Gabriel said no more. An absurd embarrassment had possession of him. He felt as though this were the first time he had ever been alone with his son. He had not taken very much notice of him since their arrival here in Yoghonoluk and had usually only seen him at meals. True that in Paris or in the holidays in Switzerland he had often taken Stephan for walks.