The crowd saw them and hung back, but if they chose to rush us it wasn't much of a barrier two pistols would make.
Rasta's voice had stopped.

He had done his work, and had retired to the background.

There were shouts from the crowd--'_Alleman_' and a word '_Khafiyeh_' constantly repeated.

I didn't know what it meant at the time, but now I know that they were after us because we were Boches and spies.

There was no love lost between the Constantinople scum and their new masters.