Achmed Abdullah

“ But now he had a chance, with that crazed, yelling, blood-thirsty mob, rolling on relentlessly toward the same goal.
"On to the British Embassy!"
The shout was taken up like the response in some Satanic litany.
Steadily the mob gathered strength, impetus, brutal, tearing sweep. From all sides men joined it, even women and children, shaking fists and sticks and umbrellas, picking up bricks and stones. ”

“ These jockeys, through their original calling, were familiar with the horses of the German racing stables as a Boston dowager is with the passenger list of the Mayflower. Metz was a rich, prosperous town. Some wealthy man was sure to have a racing establishment there—and to that racing establishment, to the best two horses in it, he would have to win—and for that end he needed advice, help. For everything depended on the horses he and Bertha would ride.
But—whom should he ask?
It was the hysterical yell of the Berlin mob: "On to the British Embassy!" ”

“ If ever you should get into trouble, if by that time I should have left Berlin, you must go to the British Embassy. Once inside you must find, somehow, the man who has the duplicate of my ring. Him you can trust. ”