ded　in　a　heartbeat。

“Mother；　have　Orhan　open　the　door；”　I　said　in　a　moment　of　inspiration　and

in　a　sweet　voice；　as　if　I　were　speaking　to　the　boy。　“He　wants　to　go　home；　no

one　will　take　issue　with　that。”

The words had hardly left my mouth when Orhan freed himself from his

mother’s　loosening　arms；　and　like　somebody　who’d　lived　here　for　years；　slid

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open the bolt； lifted the wooden bar； then unfastened the latch； and moved

backward　two　steps。　The　cold　from　outside　entered　as　the　door　yawned　open。

There　was　such　a　silence　that　all　of　us　heard　a　lazy　dog　bark　off　in　the　distance。

Shekure kissed Orhan； who was back in his mother’s lap； and Shevket said；

“I’m　going　to　tell　Uncle　Hasan。”

I　saw　Shekure　stand；　take　up　her　cloak　and　prepare　her　bundle　to　leave；　and

I was so greatly relieved； I was afraid　I might laugh。 I seated myself and had

two　more　spoonfuls　of　the　lentil　soup。

Black was intelligent enough not to e anywhere near the door of the

house。　For　a　time；　Shevket　locked　himself　in　his　late　father’s　room；　and　even

though　we　called　for　Black’s　help；　neither　he　nor　his　men　came。　After　Shekure

agreed to let Shevket take along his Uncle Hasan’s ruby…handled dagger； the

boy　was　willing　to　leave　the　house　with　us。

“Be　afraid　of　Hasan　and　his　red　sword；”　said　the　father…in…law　with　genuine

worry rather than an air of defeat and vengeance。 He kissed each of his

grandchildren；　sniffing　their　heads。　He　also　whispered　into　Shekure’s　ear。

When　I　saw　Shekure　gazing　one　last　time　at　the　door；　walls　and　stove　of　the

house； I rememb