The müdir broke off: "Unless I'm mistaken, Effendi,
you're liable for military service."
Gabriel gave a short account of the matter. Yesterday, perhaps, he might
still have asked the official to find out why no marching-orders had
reached him. But the last few hours had altered everything. The thought
of war -- of Juliette and Stephan -- oppressed him. His sense of duty as a
Turkish officer had evaporated. He hoped now that the battery in Aleppo
had forgotten him and he felt no desire to attract attention. But it
struck him how well informed these Antioch officials seemed to be,
of all that concerned him.
The müdir's red-rimmed eyes transmitted his satisfaction. "So that now,
Effendi, you are, so to speak, a soldier on leave. So, for you, there
can be no question of any teskeré."
"But my wife and son . . . ?"
As he said this (it seemed to mystify the müdir), Gabriel felt for the
first time: "We're in a trap. . . ."
That same instant the double doors into the next office were pushed open.
There entered two gentlemen. One was an elderly officer; the other,
doubtless, the Kaimakam. This provincial governor was a big, puffy-looking
man, in a grey, crumpled frock coat. Heavy, dark-brown pouches under
the eyes, in the sallow face of a dyspeptic. Bagradian and the müdir
rose. The Kaimakam paid not the least attention to the Armenian. In
a low voice he gave some directions to his subordinate, raised a hand
carelessly to his fez, and, followed by the major, walked out of the
office, since he seemed to have finished his day's work.
Gabriel stared at the door. "Are you making distinctions between officers,
then?"
The müdir had begun to tidy his desk. "I don't quite know what you mean,
Effendi."
"I meant, are Turks and Armenians to be given separate treatment?"
This seemed to horrify the müdir. "Every Ottoman subject is equal before
the law."
That, he continued, had been the most important achievement of the
revolution of 1908. That certain habits of pre-revolutionary days should
still persist -- as for instance the preferential treatment of Ottomans
in military and government offices -- that was one of the things that
could never be altered by act of parliament. Peoples did not change
as quickly as did their constitutions, and reforms were far easier on
paper than in reality. He concluded his excursion into political theory:
"The war will bring a great many important changes."
Gabriel took this for a hopeful prophecy. But the müdir suddenly jerked
his freckled face, which, for no apparent reason, was twitching with hate.
"Meanwhile let us hope that no incidents will force the government to
relentless severity with certain sections of the populace."
When Gabriel Bagradian turned into the bazaar at Antioch, he had made
up his mind on two points. If they called him up, he would not shrink
from any sacrifice to buy himself clear of the army. And he would await
the end of the war in the peace and quiet of his house at Yoghonoluk,
unmolested and unperceived.
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