Greek Faith to whom I could appeal. I tried to remember where in the church was the particular niche of each of the saints. It took my mind from my danger, and gave it a definite object, as I hurried on.
Into the intensity of my prayers there broke the muffled sound of leather boots. The night patrol was on its rounds. I stood still. To all appearances I was a Turkish woman, alone in the streets. The patrol would arrest me. What if I threw away the feredjé and the yashmak? Though as a Turkish woman I should be taken to prison, what my fate would be as a Christian I did not know, and the unknown fate was the more terrifying. The Turkish garb was my danger, but also my momentary protection.
I drew the black silk about me. While waiting for the approach of the night patrol, my mind worked quickly. I must belong to some man's harem, either as lady or slave. I was afraid that I might not act meekly enough for a slave; then it must be as somebody's wife. Whose should it be? The tall, stalwart figure of Arif Bey flashed across my mind's eye. He had had two wives when I knew him: he probably had more now—and besides I knew where his town house was.
By the time the patrol came near me I felt quite safe in the thought of the dashing figure and handsome face of the man I had chosen as my husband. I walked up to the patrol, though
