evket； causing the boy to cry； and had the barber’s

apprentice　and　two　other　men　move　Shekure；　Hayriye　and　the　children　a　safe

distance　away。　The　theology　student　told　me　he’d　take　me　home　by　way　of　a

shortcut；　that　is；　he　didn’t　let　me　stay　with　the　others。　Was　this　a　twist　of　fate

or　some　cunning　attempt　to　keep　secret　the　whereabouts　of　their　hideout？

There　was　a　shop；　which　I　understood　to　be　a　coffeehouse；　at　the　end　of　this

narrow　street　we　were　passing　down。　Perhaps　the　swordfight　stopped　as　soon

as　it’d　begun。　Crowds　of　men　were　hooting　as　they　entered　and　left；　at　first　I

thought　they　were　looting；　but　no；　they　were　destroying　the　coffeehouse。　They

carefully took out all of the ceramic cups； brass pots； glasses and low tables

under the light of the torches of the onlookers and destroyed them all as a

warning。　They　roughed　up　a　man　who　tried　to　stop　them；　but　he　was　able　to

get　away。　Originally；　I　thought　their　target　was　only　coffee；　as　they　themselves

claimed。　They　were　condemning　its　ill　effects；　how　it　harmed　the　sight　and　the

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stomach；　how　it　dulled　the　intellect　and　caused　men　to　lose　their　faith；　how　it

was　the　poison　of　the　Franks　and　how　Exalted　Muhammad　had　turned　down

coffee even though it was offered to him by a beautiful woman—Satan in

disguise。　It　was　as　if　this　were　the　theatrics　for　a　night　of　instruction　in　moral

etiquette；　and　if　I　finally　made　it　home；　I　thought　I　might　even　scold　Nesim；

warning　him　not　to　drink　too　much　of　that　poison。

Since there ing houses and cheap inns nearby； a

curious　crowd　formed　in　no　time；　made　up　of　idle　wa