"
From among the papers in a tiroir against the wall he took a French
journal, and read, translating fluently. The article was a bald
account of the torture, outrage and massacre of Armenian women and
girls, at Adana, by the Turks. The most hideous portion of it was
briefly descriptive of the atrocities perpetrated by order of a high
Turkish official upon a mother and two young daughters. "An
Armenian prisoner, being dragged by in chains, went mad at the
sight," the correspondent stated.
"I was that prisoner," said the reader. "The official was Telfik
Bey. I saw my naked daughter break from the soldiers and run to
him, pleading for pity, as he sat his horse; and I saw him strike
his spur into her bare breast. My wife, the mother of my children--"
"Don't!" The protest came from the Fifth Assistant Secretary of
State.
He had risen. His smooth-skinned face was contracted, and the sweat
stood beaded on his forehead. "I--I can't stand it. I've got my
duty to do. This man has made a confession."
"Your pardon," said the foreigner.
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