by-streets whenever I heard anyone approaching, I came to the awful conclusion that I could not find the tekhe, and, alone and unprotected, was lost in the streets of Stamboul. I wondered, too, what the others were doing. Afterward I learned that, when they got to the entrance, one of the women of our party had fainted, and, to avoid danger, they had hidden in a dark passage while waiting for her to come to her senses. In their excitement they did not notice my disappearance, and when they found it out they searched everywhere, finally deciding that the others should go home while my brother and one of the men hid near the tekhe, thinking that sooner or later I should turn up there. It was only in the early morning that they went away, hoping that by some lucky chance I had returned to the house.
Meanwhile I was roaming far from the tekhe, exposed to all kinds of dangers. I grew desperate. Horrible stories of the Greek Revolution recurred to my mind: how our women were tortured to death by the Turks, and how others, to avoid shame and torture, had thrown themselves into the sea. If I could only reach the water! With that idea in my mind I ran in the direction in which I thought the sea lay. Fragments of prayer taught me in childhood, and long forgotten for lack of use, came back to me, and I began to pray. I was glad for the many saints in the
