15 August.—Today I woke late, but Sadan slept even longer than me. We had some very good news. Turan Bey’s father, who was very sick in Erenköy, has been getting better. For that reason the wedding between Turan Bey and Sadan will be hastened. Sadan’s mother is both glad and grieved. I spoke to her in private for a moment. This strong, warm-hearted woman told me that she was informed by her doctor that her disease is very serious, and that there is almost no possibility of surviving her heart condition. We will never let Sadan know. According to the doctor, because this woman’s heart is weakening every day, a tragic end may come in three or four months. I was wise not to tell this poor woman that Sadan went out into the street in her sleep, for she might have died on the spot.
17 August.—I have not picked up my journal for two days. I am frightened. I feel that there is a shadow of misfortune and sorrow over us. There is still no news from Azmi. Sadan keeps getting weaker, paler, and sicker. I cannot understand for the life of me why this poor girl is withering away like this. She eats well and enjoys the fresh air. I lock the door every night and hide the key against my chest. She wakes up and usually sits in front of the open window. Last night I found her looking as though she were about to faint. I was hardly able to wake her. She does not remember how she opened the window. She sobbed silently on my shoulder. I wonder if the pinprick from when we were sitting on the hill, when I tried to put the shawl around her neck, has caused this illness. I looked at her neck
while she was asleep tonight. That small wound has not closed and, in fact, it has become larger. And the edges of the wound are a little white… If it does not close in a day or two I will certainly take her to a doctor.
18 August.—I have a part of my sanity back. There is still no news from Azmi, but at least Sadan is feeling a little better. She is happy again. Today we were sitting in our old place and joking around. Taking advantage of this, I asked if she had dreamed on that night she came here. All of a sudden she became serious; there was even a hint of sadness on her face. She said, softly:
“I didn’t quite dream; in fact, I was almost awake. I felt a very strong urge to come here. However, I was also afraid of something. Yes, I was asleep. But I faintly remember going out into the street and coming here. At one point I saw a dark shape and, just as we saw the other night, it had red eyes. I felt as though I was drowning in deep, green water. There were sweet voices in my ears. I felt like my blood was drained from my body and I lost myself in a bittersweet pleasure. Then I remember you waking me up.”
She suddenly began to laugh. It seemed a little uncanny and wild to me. When we came home, Sadan’s cheeks were very rosy and her unnatural cheerfulness was still there.
19 August.—Ah, how happy I am, my God, I finally received news from my dear Azmi. My Azmi has been sick; that is why he has not written to me. He is now staying at Edirne Hospital. I am leaving by train tomorrow. I saw Rifat Bey; he was both delighted and sad. Laughing, he told me, “When you go to Edirne, please marry Azmi immediately.” What a kind and thoughtful man; only a father could be so compassionate. Worrying about him and missing him will keep me awake tonight. There is a very strange explanation in the letter that the hospital’s manager sent to Rifat Bey. Hungarian police found Azmi in a city in a very miserable way, looking almost like a madman, and from the documents on him it was understood that he was Turkish. He was turned over to our consulate and sent back to Edirne. He has had a nervous breakdown. And now he is quite exhausted.
Letter from Major Turan Bey to Doctor Afif Bey.
“31 August.
“Dear Afif,
“I have a great favor to ask of you. Sadan is very sick; she is almost wasting away. When I finally arrived from Erenköy to visit her, I was surprised and troubled. My dear friend, or rather my dear brother, I trust in your skill and candor. I have just been called back to Erenköy due to my father’s illness; I must leave. You must check up on Sadan without alerting her mother. The rest is up to you. Send me a telegram in Erenköy if necessary.
“With all my love,
“Your brother: Turan”
Letter from Doctor Afif Bey to Turan.
“I have carried out your request. First let me hasten to say that, thanks to God, after my examination I found no sign of illness in Sadan Hanim. However, I did not like her condition at all. She is woefully different from the last time I saw her. I have not found a chance to examine or speak to her closely. To outside appearances, I found Sadan Hanim cheerful while her mother was with us. After dinner, her mother left and I was alone with Sadan Hanim. Once all were gone, her gaiety deserted her. She lowered her head in great exhaustion and covered her face with her hands. I took advantage the situation and asked her what was wrong, explaining that I was here at your request. She said, ‘I don’t want to talk about myself; I only think and worry about Turan!’
“I took some of her blood that day and tested it; there is nothing abnormal about it. In fact, it shows in itself a vigorous state of health. However, there is no doubt that Sadan Hanim has some kind of ailment. In my opinion it is something mental. She complains about occasional shortness of breath, fainting, and heavy sleep. She has nightmares from time to time as well. She also said this: she had a sleepwalking illness when she was a child. Recently she has begun to relapse. One night she walked out of the house and went as far as a hill by the sea; her friend Güzin Hanim found her there. But she assures me that in the last few days the habit has not returned. I have concerns about this situation and have done something that I felt would be appropriate. I would have done the same were it my dear sister. I do not know what you will think of it. I wrote a letter to my old tutor, my most dear and trusted friend Resuhî Bey, who is now living a secluded life in Yakacik, and asked him to come immediately. You know Resuhî Bey, for I often used to tell his strange stories in Anatolia. The whole country knows his reputation. Even my French colleagues have told me, on occasion, what a credit he is to our nation. Strangely, his work is more well-known to Westerners than to Turks. We call him ‘Mad Resuhî’ and move on. If only Turkey had half a dozen more mad men like him. Resuhî Bey is indeed a great expert in mental illnesses. I am quite sure that he will succeed where I fail.
“Your brother: Dr. Afif”
From Doctor Resuhî Bey to Doctor Afif Bey.
“2 September.
“My dear friend,
“It is such a strange coincidence; I was about to visit you in Istanbul when I received your letter. I have not yet come down to Istanbul this summer. I have very much wished to see you. Even were this not so, I should have rushed to Istanbul after your letter. Tell this truth to your friend whose fiancée is ill: There is no possible way for Doctor Resuhî to refuse any request from the Doctor Afif who courageously sucked the gangrene poison from the wound on my arm caused by a knife thrown by his friend in a moment of anger in the middle of a very important operation.
“In any event, I am coming soon… Wait for me!
“Resuhî”
From Doctor Afif to Turan Bey.
“Dear friend,
“Doctor Resuhî Bey has come and gone back to Yakacik. Of course he examined Sadan Hanim discretely without alerting her sick mother. He examined her carefully and is to report to me, and I shall advise you. My old friend appears to be taking this matter seriously, but he says he must think it through first. My tutor has strange habits. He is the most radical scientist of the modern age, but he also has odd beliefs. That is why he is a target for so many envious people. When the old man says, ‘Let me think,’ it is impossible to get any more out of him. But his final word is always plain. That is why I ask you not to be angry with my tutor. You can trust him implicitly. I think the fact that he is placing so much importance on this is better for us. After a long examination of Sadan Hanim, he said these very words to me: ‘You are right, there is no physical illness visible on this little miss. But I see she has lost much blood. Strangely, I cannot understand why. But I will; I will think about it. I must return to my home in Yakacik today. You must send me a telegram every day; I can be here in two hours if need be. This charming, angelic creature interests me too.’ As he spoke this, the thick, black eyebrows of my old professor were knit and his face showed immense gravity. There, my brother Turan, now you know as much about Sadan’s illness as I do. I will focus absolutely all of my care and attention on observing her. I am already near her home. I hope your father is well. I imagine that his condition, while Sadan Hanim is in such a state, is a heavy weight on your mind. If this had not happened, you would be together with Sadan Hanim and that would have a great effect on her. I will let you know every little detail, my brother, do not worry.”
Telegram from Doctor Afif to Doctor Resuhî Bey.
“6 September.
“Sadan Hanim has had terrible change after being well and happy for two days. I will not inform her fiancé before your visit.”
CHAPTER VI