OF THE FOUR POINT RECEIVER AND HOW WE PLANNED TO
KIDNAP THE TURKISH STAFF AT YOZGAD
On the First of April the Pimple had let slip a morsel of valuable
information. He told us that the Changri prisoners were coming to Yozgad
_in charge of their own Commandant and Interpreter_.
“That solves one difficulty,” I said to Hill, after the Pimple had gone
away.
“How?”
“For the escape stunt. If we persuade them to send us to the coast all
three will want to come with us, because they don’t trust each other.
But if they can leave the Changri Commandant and Interpreter in charge
of this camp it should be easy enough for Kiazim and the Pimple to get
away. The Cook can always come as Kiazim’s orderly.”
“You mean,” said Hill, “that you expect all three to come with us to the
coast?”
“More than that,” said I. “I’ve a plan for getting them to provide a
boat for us. I believe if they do so they will be too frightened to give
the alarm when we bolt, and we’d get a good start.”
In his function as critic Hill listened to my plan for persuading the
Turks to get us a boat. Then he sat silent for some time.
“Good enough,” he said at last, “but why leave the Turks behind? Why not
take them with us in the boat? In short, why not kidnap ’em?”
It was my turn to sit silent.
“I believe we two could sandbag three Turks any day,” Hill grinned, “and
it would be some stunt to hand over a complete prison camp Staff to the
authorities in Cyprus. The giddy old War Office would be quite amused, I
do believe, and a laugh would cheer them up. And think of the British
public! If the German communiqués are true our folks should be in the
dumps just now, with our armies in France being pushed about, and Paris
being shelled and all the rest of it. It would do ’em a power of good to
see a par. about us in their breakfast newspapers! Think of the heading:
‘Kidnapping of Yozgad Camp Officials’—‘Spoofed by a Spook.’ And think of
the joy of Sir Oliver Lodge!”
“There’s another point,” said I. “If they were with us they couldn’t
raise the alarm.”
“That settles it, doesn’t it?” Hill asked.
It did. We decided to kidnap as many of the Turks as we could.
On his next visit the Doc. carried away in his pocket a rough skeleton
of our two plans (i.) for kidnapping the Commandant, and (ii.) for
shamming mad. We asked him to give us his advice, especially about the
madness, and also to discuss the plans with three men who had taken
risks by sending us messages during our imprisonment, and on whose sound
judgment we relied. These were Matthews, Price, and Hickman. We asked
them to help us for the kidnapping stunt by procuring us a map of the
south coast, morphia (to drug the Turks with) and an adze to use as a
weapon should morphia and sandbags fail. We thought we could carry one
adze for chopping firewood without causing any suspicion.
In reply we got a letter from Matthews. It was a good letter, and the
talk in it was as straight as the writer. He said he thought the madness
plan was impossible. But he thoroughly approved of the kidnapping. He
did not want to “butt in” at the eleventh hour, after most of the hard
work had been done, but if we could do it without upsetting our plans he
would be most uncommon glad to be allowed to join our party. Would we
take him? He could sail a boat with anyone, with or without a compass,
and could do his share in a scrap.
We discussed his letter very carefully. We replied that there was nobody
in the camp we would rather take as a companion, and that he would be
most useful to us if we could fit him in. Our acceptance of him as a
third member of our party was, however, conditional. We warned him that
if at any time we found his presence was endangering our escape, we
should “throw him overboard” without compunction. And on the ground that
we knew more about spooking than he did, we demanded unquestioning
obedience. He gave the promise we required with alacrity, and we set to
work.
Our first step the reader has seen—we persuaded the Turks that it would
be necessary to move us. At the same time we sent Kiazim Bey to the
official Turkish doctors in Yozgad with a carefully prepared story of
his ill-health. Kiazim was a victim to biliary colic, and we learned
privately from Doc. O’Farrell what he ought to say in order to induce
the Turkish doctors to believe he might be suffering from stone in the
hepatic duct. Under orders from the Spook he said it, and the Turkish
doctors gave him their written recommendation for three months’ leave.
He was very grateful to the Spook who, in his opinion, had “controlled”
the Turkish doctors, and he told us that Constantinople would
undoubtedly grant him the leave on the strength of his medical
certificate, especially as he could hand over charge to the Changri
Commandant, who was coming with the next prisoners.
The question of leave for the Pimple and the Cook was simple. The
Commandant could—and would—grant it.
So far as the three Turks were concerned, the difficulty of leaving
Yozgad was thus solved. There remained Hill and myself, and if possible
Matthews. We first thought of leaving Yozgad as members of the Afion
party, intending to get the Commandant to separate us from the party at
railhead (Angora). Here are the Spook’s instructions:
“Let the Superior go to Col. Maule or send word to him as follows:—The
two officers Jones and Hill are now free but they will not be allowed to
write letters during April. I am anxious to get rid of these two men,
but have not yet heard if Constantinople wishes them kept here pending
the completion of the enquiry as to their correspondent in the town. If
they are not required here I shall send them to Afion. Will you please
warn any two of the twenty officers nominated that their places may be
taken by Jones and Hill? I have already informed Jones and Hill of this,
and am permitting them to stay in the Colonels’ House till the party
leaves for Afion.”
Next day (April 5th) the Pimple reported having given the Spook’s
message to Colonel Maule, and showed to the spook-board the following
reply from the Colonel:
“MR. MOÏSE,
“I should like to see the Commandant _as soon as possible_. As all
the officers detailed for Afion have made their arrangements, sold or
broken up their furniture, written to England, etc., there is only one
who wants to stay here now, and it is rough luck on them to upset the
whole arrangement after the Commandant would not let Lieut. Jones’s and
Hill’s names go in originally.
(Signed) N.S. MAULE,
“5.4.18. LT.-COL. R.F.A.”
The letter interested us because it showed that the Pimple had told the
truth when he informed us of the previous attempt to get rid of “the
black sheep.” It was also a trifle annoying, because it upset our plans
a little. To have overridden the Colonel’s objections would have been
easy, and I was on the point of making the Spook do so (this was one of
the occasions when there had been no opportunity for consultation with
Hill) when I was struck by the possibilities in one phrase—“there is
only one who wants to stay here now.” This was what we wanted. It should
be easy for Matthews to change places with that one, while Hill and I
could be _added_ to the party as far as Angora—we had no intention
whatsoever of accompanying them further, or of allowing Matthews to do
so. But there was not much time for reflection.
“What do you think of this? What do you advise?” Moïse asked excitedly
of the Spook.
SPOOK. “Do not forget your manners, Moïse! _I_ always say ‘good-evening’
to _you_.”
MOÏSE. “I beg your pardon, Sir. I am very sorry.”
SPOOK. “All right. Now ask.” (Moïse repeated the question). “Poor Moïse!
Poor Moïse! This is terrible, is it not? You thought I wanted these two
mediums to be in the twenty, did you not?” (_Note._—This was “eyewash”
talk—to gain me a little time to think out a reply.)
MOÏSE. “Yes, Sir.”
SPOOK. “Ha! Ha! Ha! So did OOO. Listen! I cannot tell you my plans
beforehand, because it will lead to interference. I _wanted_ OOO to read
your thoughts last night to deceive him into helping us. Yesterday
several of the twenty did not want to go. Today _all_ wanted to go. OOO
did that.”
The Spook went on to explain that in addition to wasting OOO’s force on
irrelevant matters, the real object of the message had been to let the
camp know that the Commandant would send away Hill and myself as soon as
possible, and so it was natural enough for us to remain in the Colonels’
House (where we were free to spook) instead of rejoining our respective
messes. We _would_ be sent away, but not to Afion. Then the following
reply was dictated by the Spook:
“_To Colonel Maule_—
“I have no desire to cause any inconvenience, so allow the matter to
stand as it is at present. The reason for my message of yesterday was
merely that I had been given to understand that several officers did not
want to go. I simply sought an easy way of allowing two to stay. I do
not wish to upset your arrangements, and if it is not necessary to keep
Jones and Hill here, I can easily apply to Constantinople to punish them
further by transferring them to Afion.”
Moïse was to add, verbally, that “immediately on receipt of Colonel
Maule’s objections, the Commandant had written to Constantinople asking
for Hill and myself to be transferred to another camp.” And he was to
let it be known that, though we would not be included in the Afion
party, we would be _added_ to it, and travel with it at least as far as
Angora. This Moïse did, and in due course reported that the reply “had
comforted everybody.” Colonel Maule was very pleased, and thanked the
Commandant.
The secret plan on which Hill and I were now working was perhaps
sufficiently ingenious to merit a detailed description. The Turks, of
course, did not know it beforehand, but were to be introduced to it bit
by bit as it developed. It was as follows:
1. The Spook would “control” Hill and myself into a nervous breakdown of
sufficient severity to induce the Turkish doctors at Yozgad to recommend
our transfer to Constantinople.
2. The Spook would draft a letter to Constantinople from the Commandant
reporting our sickness, enclosing copies of the Turkish doctors’
recommendations, and stating that he would seize the first opportunity
of sending us to a Constantinople hospital. Office copies of this letter
would be kept by the Yozgad office in the usual way. The original would
be signed, sealed, and put in an envelope addressed to the Turkish War
Office. _But it would never be delivered._ It would be “lost in the
post” for the simple reason that it would never be posted, though the
office staff would think it had gone.
3. As soon as news arrived that the Changri Commandant had left Angora
_en route_ for Yozgad, Kiazim was to telegraph to Constantinople about
his own health, quoting the opinion of the doctors already obtained, ask
for leave, and suggest that he hand over charge to the Changri
Commandant. By the time the Changri man arrived, the answer should have
come from the War Office, and, in view of his influence at headquarters,
Kiazim had already told us he could (with the aid of the doctors’
recommendations) get leave at any time.
4. A day or two before the arrival of the Changri Commandant Kiazim was
to give the Pimple leave of absence. The Pimple would join the Afion
party as far as Angora (railhead) in order to avail himself of the
Government transport. (_Note._—We modified this later, and the Pimple
was actually sent on duty to look after the “nervous breakdowns.”)
5. The Cook was to be detailed as one of the escort of the Afion party,
but was to be under orders to accompany it only as far as Angora, where
he was to stay behind “to make purchases for the Commandant’s wife.”
6. In handing over charge of the camp Kiazim would point out to his
successor from Changri the office-copy of the letter about us (which had
_not_ been sent), and suggest we be added to the Afion party. This we
could accompany as far as railhead at Angora, where there was a
prisoners’ camp and a hospital in which we could wait till an
opportunity arose for sending us on to Constantinople. (_Note._—We would
arrange, as we eventually did, to be taken not to the camp or the
hospital, but to a hotel in Angora; but Yozgad would know nothing of
this.) Had we been really “nervous breakdowns” this would have been the
natural thing to do. The Changri man would thus take over the camp two
officers short, but would report the numbers as “complete and all
correct.” We did not know if it was customary for the newcomer to report
to headquarters the exact number of prisoners taken over by him, and the
Spook intended to get Kiazim to dodge such a definite statement if
possible. But we did know that the report, if sent, would be sent in
writing (taking a week to ten days), and what with 20 officers and 10
orderlies going to Afion, and 44 officers and 25 orderlies coming in
from Changri, with possibly some sick dropped _en route_, headquarters
would either not notice the shortage or think it an arithmetical error.
If they did happen to make any enquiries about it, the new Commandant
would refer them to the letter about us, which they had never received,
and we were quite sure that the result would be an ordinary
inter-departmental wrangle as to the correctness of a set of figures,
and possibly a post-office enquiry about a missing letter. I had not
spent a dozen years in Government service without learning how easy it
is for the real point at issue to be obscured. And long before the War
Office and Yozgad had got beyond the stage of arithmetical calculations,
we hoped to be in Cyprus or Rhodes. As to Colonel Maule’s monthly letter
to H.Q., we intended asking him, as a favour, to continue saying nothing
about us.
7. The Commandant, when going on leave, would travel with us. It would
be the natural thing to do, because he would thus get a free passage by
Government cart as far as railhead, and also, the country being full of
bandits, he would have the advantage of an armed escort.
If all went well, then, the effect would be that Hill and I would be on
the road with the Pimple, the Cook, and the Commandant, and once the
Afion party had left us behind in the hotel at Angora, nobody would know
anything about us. Yozgad officials would not worry because we had set
out for Constantinople; Constantinople would not worry because they
would not know we were coming. Angora prisoners’ camp would not worry
because we would be under our own escort, and not “on their strength.”
It is an exceptional Turk who is a busybody—they are too lazy to
interfere with affairs that are not their concern—and the gold
epaulettes on Bimbashi Kiazim Bey’s uniform would be guarantee enough of
our respectability. To make ourselves as inconspicuous as possible Hill
and I would dress in the rough Turkish soldiers’ uniform which had been
issued to the British orderlies at Yozgad—we each had a suit of it—and
discard all badges of rank. There was no reason why anyone in authority
should question two British prisoners who looked like miserable and
half-starved privates—the sight was too common. We might go anywhere in
Turkey with Kiazim Bey, and before we left Yozgad Kiazim Bey would know
that his job was to take us to the Mediterranean seaboard.
Our first task was to introduce the Turks, as carefully as possible, to
the idea of taking us to the coast. Once that was accomplished we could
tackle the Matthews problem.
We worked at tremendous pressure, and developed all our main points
simultaneously. During the five days when we held up Constantinople’s
order to release us. Doc. O’Farrell visited us daily and secretly
instructed us in the symptoms of nervous breakdowns. He told the Pimple
he thought our minds were affected, and the Pimple thought the Spook had
“controlled” him into believing this. When we had thoroughly mastered
the Doc.’s instructions, the Spook caused Kiazim to tell the camp we
were free. The object of this, the Spook explained quite frankly to our
Turkish confederates, was to enable us to have visitors, so that when
visitors came we might be “controlled” by the Spook into most eccentric
behaviour. The result, as the Spook pointed out, was that the camp
thought us crazy. The Turks came to the conclusion we hoped they would
reach—that the Spook intended to get the doctors to recommend our
removal from Yozgad. Kiazim was greatly pleased with the idea, for the
doctors’ recommendations would relieve him of all responsibility.
Our first visitors were Matthews and Price, who came in with the Doc. To
them, when they came, I made my long-delayed confession that every
“message” obtained through my “mediumship” had been of my own invention,
and that not only the Turks but also my friends in the camp had been
victimized. It was then, for the first time, that I realized how
difficult it is to convince a True Believer of the truth. In spite of
what I said, these three, who were all my own “converts,” tried to force
me to admit that there was “something in spiritualism,” and that at
least _some_ of the messages for which I was responsible were “genuine.”
They quoted the incidents of “Louise” and the code-test against me, and
when I had explained these Matthews turned on me with, “Well, we have
got one thing out of it, anyway! We have proved the possibility of
telepathy. For I don’t believe that the show you two fellows gave at the
concert _could_ have been a fraud.” In reply Hill picked up a small
notebook, and handed it to Matthews.
“There’s the code we used,” he said.
To tell a man that you have been “pulling his leg” and “making a fool of
him” for your own ends is a very severe test of friendship, and for our
friendship’s sake we had long dreaded this revelation. But we could not
go on using these good fellows any longer without a full confession.
“Hill and I hope you can forgive us,” I concluded lamely.
“Forgive you!” cried Price. “I take my hat off to you! If there is
anything we can do to help——”
“Count on us,” said Matthews, “we want to be in it.”
“Faith,” laughed the Doc., “I seem to be in it already, though it is
little I knew it—an’ I mean to stay in it! From now on you’ve got to
tell me _everything_. I couldn’t sleep o’ nights if you didn’t go on
using me.”
And that is how the Submarine Man, and the Sapper, and the Scientist
from Central Africa took their generous and gentle revenge.
For the rest the Spook was very thorough. It refused to allow us to
wash, or shave, or sweep out our room. It made us infernally rude to
many of our visitors. It controlled us into lodging wild accusations
against our best friends. It made us refuse to go out, and ordered us to
put a notice on our door—
“GO AWAY! _WE_ DON’T WANT TO SEE _YOU_!”
Yet many good fellows forced their way in. Our condition distressed
them. We were unshaven and dirty, our faces pale, drawn, and very thin.
The fortnight’s starvation had put a wild look into our eyes. But our
chief pride and horror was our hair—we had refrained from cutting it for
the last two months, and now we did not brush it, so that it stood up
round our heads like the quills of the fretful porcupine. To cap
everything there was the studied filth of our room.
The best way to get a man to agree to a plan is to make him think it is
of his own invention. This was the system we followed with the Turks.
After the “explosion” the Turks had (of themselves, they thought)
decided we must be moved from Yozgad. The Spook pointed out that two
problems remained—_how_ were we to be moved, and _where_ were we to go?
These, also, we caused the Turks to solve for us, in the way we wanted.
“I want to see you try the same problems as you are giving me to do,”
said the Spook, “because when we all think together, it helps.”
MOÏSE. “We thought you _had_ a plan ready.”
SPOOK. “So I have, but I dare not tell it yet because of OOO. I want you
all, the Sup. and the Cook too, to invent plans, because your thinking
about these will confuse OOO, and so help me by reducing his force.
Write down all your plans and bring them to me.”
The Commandant, the Cook, and the Pimple spent all their spare time
manufacturing plans. They appealed to Hill and myself to help, but we
turned out to be singularly uninventive, and beyond an occasional
suggestion (calculated to put them on the right lines) they got nothing
out of us. We excused ourselves for our failure by saying that the
English are a very practical race and have no imagination. The three
Turks thought that however good we might be as mediums, we were
hopelessly dull at what Moïse called “intrigue.”
Within 36 hours of the explosion, the Commandant, inspired by Doc.
O’Farrell’s fears as to our sanity, produced the following plan. I quote
it in full from the Pimple’s notes, and the reader can see for himself
how near it came to being what we wanted:
“Écrire à Constantinople déclarant que deux officiers par suite du
pouvoir qu’ils out de communiquer par telepathie et ayant abusé de ce
pouvoir, sont dans un état mental excessif qui pourrait avoir une
influence néfaste sur leur physique ou cerveau. Par conséquence prière
de les envoyer à Constantinople afin de les faire examiner par des
spécialistes et de découvrir les moyens de les guérir. L’Interprête
connaissant toutes ces questions, il serait utile de l’envoyer avec eux
soit pour les empêcher de tâcher de communiquer soit pour les surveiller
plus efficacement.”
There were several other plans by both Moïse and Kiazim, who were
certainly inventive enough. The poor old Cook could only think of one
plan—he was an unimaginative person like ourselves. It was to get horses
and clap us on them, and gallop gaily across country wherever the Spook
might want us to go. The Cook would have done it, and Hill and I would
have been only too delighted to do it, but for Kiazim it was much too
open and direct. He wanted his own tracks well hidden before he moved,
and would not countenance it—at this stage.
We were quite satisfied with Kiazim’s proposal as a basis for our plans.
But we pretended to object to it very strongly. We said we were afraid
we might be certified mad, and consequently lose our jobs when we
returned to England after the war, as well as make our relatives anxious
in the meantime. The Pimple asked for the Spook’s opinion on our
objection, and the Spook was very angry.
“I do not say this is my plan,” said the Spook, “but I warn you if I
order anything you must do it. IF YOU DISOBEY YOUR PUNISHMENT WILL BE
_REAL MADNESS_! Choose! Obedience or real madness!”
“Obedience, absolute obedience!” said Hill and I together, “and please
look after us.”
“Don’t worry,” said the Spook, and then announced its intention of
developing the plan, but went no further for the present. (_Note._—The
lines on which we would develop it have already been indicated to the
reader—paragraphs 1 and 2 of the plan above.)
The _how_ of our going having been solved, the Spook turned to the
question of _where_ we were to go. It suggested that the medical leave
on which Kiazim’s mind was now set could be usefully employed for three
purposes simultaneously; first, finding the treasure, second, curing the
Commandant’s disease, and third, giving the mediums a well-deserved
holiday and bringing them back to Yozgad with their health fully
restored. Where, then, would Kiazim like to go for a holiday? Kiazim
thought Constantinople would be the very place, for AAA was there; we
could read his thoughts and find the third clue, and have a most
excellent time. The Spook agreed that Constantinople would be first-rate
for those purposes, provided AAA had not gone on tour to Tarsus or
somewhere of that sort, but unfortunately a big town would be most
prejudicial to Kiazim’s health. He required some quiet place, and the
Spook asked the Turks what sort of place they preferred, whether
mountains, desert, or sea.
“We prefer sea,” said Moïse, after vainly trying to get the Spook to
agree to “a house near the mosque of Ladin in Konia.”
SPOOK. “Noted.”
MOÏSE. “Thank you, Sir. May the mediums choose a place? They want
Cairo.”
SPOOK. “They must go where I send them—ha! ha!”
MOÏSE. “May I choose a place out of Turkey? Do you count Egypt in
Turkey?”
(This was delightful—it showed Moïse remembered the Spook’s secret
advice to him to “seize the first opportunity of going to Egypt.” But we
must not move too fast.)
“It is not yet in Turkey,” said the Spook, and turned to another
subject.
The Turks were now settled in their own minds that we would go to some
quiet place on the sea-coast. They would have liked “a good time” in
Constantinople, but were quite reconciled to a seaside resort. We
decided to do more than reconcile them to it—we would make them madly
keen to go there. And this is how we did it.
(I quote the records again.)
SPOOK. “Do you understand wireless, Moïse?”
MOÏSE. “Yes, I do, a little. I have just read something about it.”
(_Note._—The Spook had previously instructed him to translate to the
Commandant a very technical book on wireless telegraphy which was in the
camp library.)
SPOOK. “Now for thought-waves. They are fourth dimension waves, so you
will find it difficult.”
MOÏSE. “Please try to make us understand it.”
SPOOK. “Thought is similar to wireless waves in some ways. For example,
it travels best over water. Mountains interfere. A dry desert is bad.
Thought-waves are stronger at night. Interference by other ions is easy.
For example, what OOO did the other night” (_i.e._, when he blocked the
line to Constantinople) “was to intersperse what we call ‘teletantic
ions’ amongst the telechronistic. So you got wrong letters. If Yozgad
was flat and wet, or an island, it would be much harder for OOO to
interfere.”
MOÏSE. “You mean it is easier to interfere at night?”
SPOOK. “No! It is not easier to interfere at night. I did not say that.
I said the waves are stronger at night.” (Moïse: “I am sorry, Sir.”) “I
mean exactly what I say—interference by interspersing teletantic ions is
easy, provided the waves are feeble—that is to say, if the distance is
great or the locality is dry and mountainous. In all these respects it
is like wireless. Also as regards the square of the distance, of which I
told you.”
MOÏSE. “Yes, Sir. We remember.”
SPOOK. “Thought-reading at a distance requires conditions which are
exactly the opposite of those necessary for clairvoyance. For
clairvoyance you need a dry clear day, as in the case of KKK, and height
helps. That is one reason why I was always doubtful if I could do all
three clues here in Yozgad.”
MOÏSE. “Quite true.”
SPOOK. “I guessed if I got one lot I must fail with the other, as we had
opposition. Now let me explain how thought-waves _differ_ from wireless
waves. First: direction. Moïse, which direction is best for wireless?”
MOÏSE. “I think it is East to West. I do not remember.”
SPOOK. “Wrong! Look it up!”
MOÏSE (referring to his book on wireless). “It is North to South.”
SPOOK. “Right! Now thought-waves have three bad directions and one good
one. The good one is South to North. When travelling in that way the
wave is at its strongest. Also, in wireless you have an immense number
of radiating waves. In thought you have only one wave. Wireless waves
_radiate_. Understand?”
MOÏSE. “Yes.”
SPOOK. “The single thought-wave goes like this—draw the motion of the
glass.” (_Note._—The glass moved in a left-hand spiral and Moïse drew a
picture of a spiral.)
“Now thought-waves are attracted by water, as if gravity kept them down
low. They travel close to the surface of the sea. The bigger the expanse
of water, the more the main body and force of the wave is centred low
down. But land has the opposite effect. It throws the main body of the
wave high in the air. See?”
MOÏSE. “Yes, Sir.”
SPOOK. “The bigger the expanse of land and the higher the mountains and
the drier the surface, the higher becomes the main body of the wave, so
by the time a thought transmitted from Paris reaches the middle of China
it is very high and only the ragged edges are within reach. Now the only
thing that will bring it down again is a big expanse of water, and the
descent is gradual like the trajectory of a bullet.”
A glance at a map will show whither all this rigmarole was tending. At
Yozgad it would be difficult to read AAA’s thoughts because the
thought-wave, starting in a left-hand spiral from Constantinople, would
be bumped up by the Taurus mountains and the dryness of the desert to
the north of them, and would pass very high over Yozgad. Down at the
Mediterranean coast things would be simple, for the wave would pass low
down over the surface of the sea. The Black Sea would be almost as
hopeless as Yozgad, unless we went out a long way from shore to where
the wave had again reached the surface of the water. The best time to
pick it up would be when it was at its strongest, i.e., in the night.
The next step was to dangle a fresh bait in front of the Turks. We had
got the sea—we wanted the boat.
“I have an idea of trying the _‘Four Cardinal Point Receiver’_ if you
will help,” said the Spook.
Moïse naturally asked what the “Four Cardinal Point Receiver” might be.
The Spook told us it was a secret method of thought-reading not known in
our sphere. It had once been known to the ancient Egyptians (the Pimple
pricked up his ears at the mention of Egypt) but the knowledge had been
lost. It was based on the principle which we had already learned—“that
once a thought has been thought it is always there,” or, in more
technical language, the thought-wave once created becomes telechronistic
and travels in an eternal spiral in the fourth dimension of space. The
method of the Four Cardinal Point Receiver was infinitely preferable to
our cumbersome “trance-talk” and “Ouija” methods of thought-reading,
because by them you could only read the thoughts of persons you knew
existed, whereas by the Egyptian method every thought was accessible to
us. “That is to say,” said the Spook, “you can know anything that has
ever happened anywhere and at any time. _Not only this treasure but all
treasures and all knowledge will be revealed._” If we promised to try
it, the Spook agreed to tell us how it was done, but it must be kept a
profound secret.
We promised, and the secret was revealed. I present it, free of charge,
to all mediums, amateur and professional, who happen to be at a loss to
invent some fresh leg-pull. Here it is:
Get on to the surface of the sea—preferably in a boat—so as to be on a
level with the main body of the thought-wave. Go at night when the wave
is at its strongest. Take with you, ready prepared, a drink that is
stimulating to the nerves—e.g., coffee. Four of you, facing in different
directions, drink quickly and in silence. Then lie down, and pillow your
heads on vessels of pure water[39]—which will help to concentrate the
telechronistic wave. Then count three hundred and thirty-three. Having
counted, think of a pleasant memory for five minutes. All this to be
done with your eyes open. The counting should be aloud, but in a low
murmuring tone, and the process of counting up to three hundred and
thirty-three and thinking for five minutes must be repeated three times
in all, for three is the mystic number in the system. The object so far
is to make the mind “receptive.” You next think hard of what you want to
discover.
“Then,” said the Spook, “you try to—well, there is no human word for it.
It is something like going to sleep, and the sensations are similar, if
you are going to be successful. You will drop OUT, as it were. Do you
understand?”
“We do not understand the last sentence,” said Moïse.
“It is difficult,” the Spook said. “Once you have felt it you will
understand. It is _like_ dropping to sleep, but it is really dropping
_out_ of what you call the present time and place into the past time and
place which you willed to see.”
“Are only the mediums able to see, or everybody?”
“It will be all, or none,” said the Spook.
Here was “some offer”! Not merely one treasure, but _all_ treasures
would be ours. And Asia Minor, every Turk believes, is full of buried
treasure. The stuff hidden before the recent Armenian massacres would be
a fortune in itself, and when one thought of the past—of the Greeks, and
Romans, and Persians—why! There was no limit to the wealth that lay
within our grasp.
“I am so glad we chose the seaside for our holiday,” said the Pimple.
“It fits in beautifully.”
“It does,” we agreed.
“But I don’t quite understand about this ‘dropping OUT,’ do you?”
“No,” said Hill slowly. “Seems to be something like a trance. Anyway,
the Spook has promised we’ll know all about it when we wake up.”
“Fancy,” said Moïse, “_all_ treasures and _all_ knowledge! I do hope we
can leave Yozgad soon.”
He went off to dream about all the treasures of all time for the few
hours that remained of the night.
I looked across the spook-board at Hill. His face was drawn with
weariness. Séances lasted anything up to six hours; it had been a very
hard week, and he was pinched and pale with hunger. But his eyes were
glittering.
“What do you think?” I asked.
He pulled out of his pocket two little tubes of morphia pills and looked
at them reflectively.
“I was wondering,” he said, “how many of these it takes in coffee to
kill a man. It would be a pity to murder the Pimple, he’s such a True
Believer, and I’d like to get him an introduction to Sir Oliver Lodge.”
“But,” I objected, “when he wakes up and finds himself half way to
Cyprus, he won’t be a True Believer any more, and he’ll try to cut
Lodge’s throat if he meets him.”
“Don’t you believe it,” said Hill. “True Believers remain True Believers
right through everything. When our three wake up they’ll think that OOO
is in charge of the boat—that’s all!”