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A STKANGE ARMENIAN 433
resolved to cut him short. But something in his
appearance rather disarmed me at second glance ;
he looked unaggressive and even friendly, no idea
of self-advertisement was apparent, nor had he the
air of one who wished to profit by me. So I stopped
and talked to him.
After remarking that he had seen me on the road,
he said, And what *' do you think of our city, sir ?
In tone and accent the question might have come
from a New Yorker on Broadway ; but here, in
Aleppo, it sounded so odd that I laughed. And I
had to laugh again when the Armenian, presently
looking round and seeing various Turkish flags flying
—for the day was Friday, the Mohammedan Sunday
—fell into a strain of Independence Day oratory.
"I'd call it great, sir," he said, "to see the Bars
and Stars flying over this old town. The United
States is strong enough to hold land on this side, sir
the United States would do some good here, I guess."
I felt that the Antioch gate and Aleppo city were
fast losing their Eastern glamour in this company,
and again I turned to go, and yet once more I
remained to talk. There was something curious
about this Armenian, some manner that of itself
created interest and fixed the attention. He spoke
always with greater energy than his subject seemed
to require, and more than once I thought him somewhat
distraught ; but his voice was pleasant, and his
American accent and phrases an unceasing wonder,
grotesquely out of harmony with his appearance and
surroundings. Summing him up I thought he might
be an Armenian revolutionary agent inquisitive as
to
my purpose.
He spoke of his life in the States —a matter of no
interest in itself to a stranger, yet he made it interesting
enough for me. Then he went on to his life in
various parts of Asia Minor, and one thing leading
to another, at last told a long story, the gist of
which may be given in a few words. With his wife
he had been on a visit to Urfa, where he left her,
2 E