should show so few lights, I observed the Kurdish sentinels posted
about the dock.

"Those are to prevent us from going ashore until their friends
come!" said I, and they snarled at me like angry wolves.

"We could easily rush ashore and bayonet every one of them!" said
Gooja Singh.

But not a man would have gone ashore again for a commission in the
German army. Gallipoli was written in their hearts. Yet I could
think of a hundred thousand chances still that might prevent our
joining our friends the British in Gallipoli. Nor was I sure in my
own mind that Ranjoor Singh intended we should try. I was sure only
of his good faith, and content to wait developments.

Though the lights of the city were few and very far between, so many
search-lights played back and forth above the water that there
seemed a hundred of them. I judged it impossible for the smallest
boat to pass unseen and I wondered whether it was difficult or easy
to shoot with great guns by aid of search-lights, remembering what
strange tricks light can play with a gunner's eyes. Mist, too, kept
rising off the water to add confusion.

While I reflected in that manner, thinking that the shadow of every
wave and the side of every boat might be a submarine, Ranjoor Singh
came down from the bridge and stood beside me.

"I have seen what I have seen!" said he. "Listen! Obey! And give me
no back answers!"