Could I
decipher German manuscripts? Let them show me their toughest one, I
said. No! It was merely a pro forma question; they had enough German
translators on the staff. So the interrogation went on. They were going
to make sure of their man, in whom, I must say, they took little
interest save when they learnt that he had passed a Civil Service
examination in Russian and another in International Law. At that
moment - though I may be mistaken - they seemed to prick up their ears.
Not long afterwards I was allowed to depart, with the assurance that I
might hear further.
Their inquiries into my attainments and references must have given
satisfaction, for in the fulness of time a missive arrived to the effect
that, assuming me to be a competent Turkish scholar, they would be glad
to see me again with a view to a certain vacancy.
Turkish - a language I had not mentioned to them, a language of which I
never possessed more than fifty words, every one of them forgotten long
years ago.
"How very War Office," I thought.
These good people were mixing up Turkish and Russian - a natural error,
when one comes to think of it, for, though the respective tongues might
not be absolutely identical, yet the countries themselves were
sufficiently close together to account for a little slip like this.
