I looked at the stars, that had the color of jewels in them.  I listened to the night birds.  I heard the wind soughing—­the mules and horses stamping—­the murmur of men’s voices.  My tongue itched to say some foolish word, that would have proved me unfit to be trusted out of sight.  But the thought came to me to be still and listen.  And still I remained until he began again.

“If I told the men what the true position is they would grow desperate,” he said.  “They would believe the case hopeless.”

“They almost believe that now!” said I.

“Have the Turk and Tugendheim been kept apart?” said he.

“Aye,” I answered.  “They have not had ten words together.”

“Good,” said he.  “Neither Turk nor Tugendheim knows the whole truth, but if they get together they might concoct a very plausible, misleading tale.”

“They would better have been bound and gagged,” said I.

“No,” he answered.  “If I had bound and gagged them it would have established sympathy between them, and they would have found some way of talking nevertheless.  Kept apart and let talk, the Turk will say one thing, Tugendheim another.”

“True,” said I.  “For now the Turk advises plunder to right and left, and settlement afterward among Armenian villages.  He says there are women to be had for the taking.  ‘Be a new nation!’ says he.”

“And what says Tugendheim?” asked Ranjoor Singh.

“‘Plunder!’” said I. “’Plunder and push northward into Russia!  The Russians will welcome you,’ says he, ’and perhaps accept me into their secret service!—­Plunder the Turks!’ says Tugendheim.  ’Plunder the Armenians!’ says the Turk.”

“I, too, would be all for Russia,” he answered, “but it isn’t possible.  The coast of the Black Sea, and from the Black Sea down to the Persian frontier, is held by a very great Turkish army.  The main caravan routes lie to the north of us, and every inch of them is watched.”

“I am glad then that it must be Egypt,” said I.  “A long march, but friends at the other end.  Who but doubts Russians?”

He shook his head.  “Syria and Palestine,” he said, “are full of an army gathering to invade Egypt.  It eats up the land like locusts.  An elephant could march easier unseen into a house than we into Syria!”

“So we must double back?” said I.  “Good!  By now they must have ceased looking for us, supposing they ever thought us anything but drowned.  Somewhere we can surely find a ship in which to cross to Gallipoli!”

He laughed and shook his head again.  “We slipped through the one unguarded place,” he said.  “If we had come one day later that place, too, would have been held by some watchful one, instead of by the fool we found in charge.”

Then at last I thought surely I knew what his objective must be.  It had been common talk in Flanders how an expedition marched from Basra up the Tigris.

“Bagdad!” I said.  “We march to Bagdad to join the British there!  Bagdad is good!”