Wherefore, I argued, the words must be intelligible to somebody or other of our persuasion, and likewise they must be pretty well gibberish to any Turk or German that found them.
The first, '_Kasredin_', I could make nothing of.

I asked Sandy.
'You mean Nasr-ed-din,' he said, still munching crumpets.
'What's that ?' I asked sharply.
'He's the General believed to be commanding against us in Mesopotamia.
I remember him years ago in Aleppo.

He talked bad French and drank the sweetest of sweet champagne.' I looked closely at the paper.

The 'K' was unmistakable.
'Kasredin is nothing.

It means in Arabic the House of Faith, and might cover anything from Hagia Sofia to a suburban villa.