IN WHICH WE ARE FOILED BY A FRIEND
The idea of the immense wealth that awaited them at the coast filled the
minds of the Turks to the exclusion of everything else. The original
treasure—a mere £18,000—became insignificant and paltry; and, compared
with the Four Cardinal Point Receiver, the methods of discovering it
were cumbersome and uncertain. The Cook, especially, was in flames to
start at once, and had he been our Commandant the next day would have
seen us galloping for the coast. For the Cook was a very thorough sort
of rascal and he saw no sense in bothering about regulations and the War
Office when a bit of hard riding would put him in a position of
affluence where he could bribe the whole of Turkey, if necessary. We
could get to the coast and back again, he urged, before the War Office
knew we had left Yozgad, so why bother the Spook to get Kiazim leave or
to get the mediums formally transferred? Let us go!
Unfortunately the Spook had promised to make the Commandant safe with
his superiors at each step, and Kiazim, being a timid man, wanted to be
satisfied that no harm could come of it to himself before he moved. He
would have liked to have adopted the Cook’s suggestion, but the
Commandant feared some tell-tale in the Yozgad office might inform
headquarters of his departure. Once we were on the road together that
fear would cease to exist, but we must leave Yozgad openly and for a
sufficient cause. His medical leave, and our transfer, would be ample
excuse.
Had Hill and I been at all uncertain of our ability to effect what
Kiazim desired, the Spook might have insisted on our adopting the Cook’s
suggestion. But so far as we could see, our plans were perfect. We had
only to hoodwink the Turkish doctors into recommending our transfer to
get everything that Kiazim required, and he would then come with us
joyously, of his own free will, instead of nervously and under orders.
As the Pimple pointed out to the impatient Cook, Kiazim could then
conduct us to the destination recommended by the doctors _via_ the
coast.
Besides, there was Matthews. Apart from our friendship for him and our
anxiety to get a third man out of Turkey, his assistance would be
invaluable to us. Our plan to include him in our party was what the
Turks call the “cream of the coffee.” Hill and I had gone over it scores
of times, inventing, selecting, discarding, improving, until at last we
could see no flaw. It involved waiting for the Afion party to leave, but
we already intended to do that in order to get hold of the Commandant,
and we saw no danger in the delay. So we had sent word to Matthews that
all was going well and that he would get his “operation orders” in a day
or two. Meantime, while he busied himself with astronomical calculations
and invented a sun-compass (which was afterwards used, I believe, by
Cochrane and his party in their escape), we made our final preparations
for deceiving the Turkish doctors into ordering our transfer and reduced
our daily rations to five slices of dry toast in my case, and three
slices for Hill, who considered himself still obnoxiously fat.
Then, with the sudden unexpectedness of thunder in a clear sky, the
crash came.
The reader will remember that when replying to Colonel Maule’s
objections to our taking the places of two members of the Afion party,
the Spook had told Moïse to let it be known that although we would not
take anyone’s place, we would be _added_ to the party because the
Commandant was anxious to get rid of us. Moïse had obeyed the Spook, and
it was soon known in the camp that we were leaving Yozgad. We had not
imagined any possible harm could come of our friends knowing it. It
would have been perfectly easy to keep the camp in complete ignorance of
our movements until the day came to leave Yozgad. We paid dearly for our
mistake.
One of the members of the Afion party was X. X was a close friend of
mine. When Hill and I were locked up by the Commandant, he put both his
possessions and his services entirely at our disposal, offered to send
word about us to England by means of his private cipher system, and was
as ready as any to incur risks on our behalf, Indeed, throughout our
imprisonment he had been a thorn in the flesh of the Pimple, for he let
no opportunity slip of pestering that unhappy individual with questions
about our welfare, and was constantly trying to discover the
Commandant’s intentions towards us. Such was his assiduity in what he
supposed were our interests that he had become something of a nuisance
to the Turks, and they several times complained about him, contrasting
his interference with the _laissez-faire_ attitude of the rest of the
camp. The Spook had seized the first opportunity to name X as the
“medium” through whom OOO was trying to discover our plans.[40] This had
explained X’s questions at the time to everybody’s amusement and
satisfaction, but it was to have most woeful consequences.
Shortly after Moïse had made his intimation about us to the camp, Hill
and I were debating how soon our starvation would have reduced us enough
to face the doctors with security, and had just decided that another
three or four days should be sufficient, when the Pimple came in.
“Once again,” he announced, “X has been at it. He says he does not want
to travel with you two in the same party.”
“Why not?” we asked in genuine amazement. “What on earth is the matter
with him now?”
“He says he thinks you will try to escape on the way from Yozgad to
Angora, and then he and the rest of the party will be strafed. So they
don’t want you with them.”
Hill and I laughed. It was a difficult thing to do on the spur of the
moment, but we managed to laugh quite naturally. We pretended to find
much amusement in X’s ignorance of the real object of our journey. The
Pimple was almost equally amused. Then our conversation turned to other
matters.
“I wonder if he was testing us?” Hill said when the Pimple had gone.
“I don’t think so,” I replied. “He dropped the subject too quick. If it
had been a trap he would have shown more interest in it. X said it all
right, I expect. He is probably trying to frighten the Commandant out of
sending us away, to be ‘strafed,’ as he thinks! He’s had that bee in his
bonnet ever since the trial.”
“I still think it is a trap,” Hill said. “Even if X had a whole hive in
his hat he wouldn’t say a fool thing like that!”
“We’ll be on pretty thin ice if they ask the Spook about it,” I said.
“Are we to believe X said it, or not?”
We were not left long in doubt. While we were talking, Matthews, Price,
and Doc. O’Farrell came in. They all looked unhappy, and after a few
generalities and beating about the bush they “broke the news” to us that
the Commandant had been “warned.”
“The Pimple has just told us,” we said.
The three looked their astonishment.
“What’s to happen to you?” Matthews asked, with consternation in his
voice.
“Nothing at all,” I said. “The Pimple knows X was playing the ass, and
is laughing at him for being so wide of the mark. We’ll carry on as
usual. The Spook business is still going strong, and we’ve got the plan
for your inclusion well worked out.”
“You think no harm was done?”
“None at all,” we said.
We were wrong. For several days we “carried on” boldly with our plans,
but with each visit of the Pimple we became more and more certain that
there was something in the wind of which we were ignorant. We dared not
question, and could only wait. Then came an evening when the Pimple
burst in on us in high excitement.
“The Commandant is a timid fool,” he said viciously. “He is troubled
about X. I tell him it is all right. But still he is troubled. _Mon
Dieu!_ He is no man, but a woman in the uniform of Bimbashi.”
Hill and I laughed.
“You mean he believes X, and thinks we _are_ going to try and escape?”
“O no! No!” the Pimple said. “He is not so great a fool as that. He
knows you are too weak to go ten miles. For are you not starved? Are you
not lame? But he is troubled. He thinks this is a warning, not of what
_you_ intend to do, but of what our Spook or perhaps OOO intends to do
for you. He fears the Spook or OOO will make you disappear.”
“But how could X know what the Spook——”
“You see,” the Pimple interrupted, “X is the medium of OOO. He has been
the mouthpiece of OOO in asking many questions. Now he is the mouthpiece
of OOO in giving a warning. That is what the Commandant thinks. I tell
him no doubt X is the medium of OOO; no doubt this message is from OOO,
but the object of it is plain! It is evident! Have we not had experience
to tell us what it means? Is it not one last despairing effort by OOO to
frighten the Commandant, to stop him from sending the mediums to find
the treasure? But he will not listen to me. He is troubled, much
troubled. Even now he has gone to his witch, to ask her to read the
cards. He is a damn fool, and a coward! Why does he not trust the Spook?
Everything it has promised the Spook has done, and still he is afraid!
He will spoil everything!”
“Let him!” I stretched my arms and yawned. “I for one won’t be sorry if
he stops now. We’ve learned the secret of the Four Point Receiver, and I
don’t see what more Hill and I are likely to get out of this. We get no
share in the treasure and you can take it from me it’s no joke living on
dry toast and tea. I don’t mind how soon he gives it up and sends us
back to the camp and decent food again.”
“Nor I,” Hill chimed in. “The Commandant can take his treasure or leave
it, as he likes. I’ll be glad to end this starvation business. And if he
angers the Spook it will be his funeral, not ours! I’ll go back to camp
with pleasure.”
The Pimple grabbed his cap and jumped to his feet. “What about my
share—my share and the Cook’s?” he cried. “Stay where you are! Don’t go
back to camp! I go to see him! It will be all right.” He rushed
excitedly from the house, to argue with his superior officer.
His efforts and the Cook’s were of no avail. The Commandant was
thoroughly scared. The more he thought of what X had said the more
certain he became that it was an utterance from the world beyond, to
which it behoved him to pay heed. He distrusted us not at all, but he
was superlatively afraid of the unseen powers, and especially of OOO.
Once already OOO had temporarily gained the upper hand and nearly
murdered us by the explosion. Supposing next time he succeeded? What was
to prevent OOO from killing not only the two mediums, but the whole
batch of treasure-hunters? Our Spook could not be everywhere at once, as
had been proved, and though Kiazim vowed he trusted him, he could not
feel _quite_ certain that no more mistakes would be made. The
“opposition” was so very strong!
At the same time, the man wanted his treasure. We gathered from the
Pimple, by means of very judicious pumping, that if the treasure could
be found without the Commandant involving himself in any way with the
War Office, or doing anything irregular, or being seen in our company,
then all would be well. But he would not willingly commit himself—he was
_“très poltron”_—and “the cards” had not been very favourable.
The situation had its humorous side. With much toil Hill and I had built
up in the Turks a belief in the existence of a spirit-world peopled by
powerful personalities capable of interfering in mundane affairs and of
controlling the actions of us mortals. We had created a spirit who was
labouring for us, and to explain why so omnipotent a personality should
not at once achieve its aim we had been forced to invent an opposition
spirit in whom the Turks believed as fully as in our own Spook. These
two great forces were struggling for the strings which moved us human
marionettes. Until X came into the arena, all had gone well, and the
Turks had been content to remain automata and to obey blindly the pulls
at their strings. But now there was a split in our camp. Kiazim was
assailed with doubt as to the genuine intentions of our Spook, and, on
the other hand, with fears that OOO might eventually prove supreme. But
never for a single moment had he any doubts about the mediums. So it
came about that our chief jailer gravely pointed out to us the
possibility that we might be forced to escape by the unseen powers,
which would have dangerous consequences for himself. He knew we would
help him to prevent it, if we could, but alas! we were mere instruments
in the hands of the Unseen. We could give him no advice, except to trust
the Spook, which was precisely what he would not do.
Outwardly Hill and I were like the mother turkey—“more than usual calm”;
we pretended not to care what happened. But between ourselves we raged
at X for his interference, and at our own carelessness in letting our
intended movements be known too early. It looked as if all our hard work
and our starvation had been in vain. Kiazim was ready, at the first hint
of danger, to give up the treasure-hunt altogether, and he had quite
made up his mind to take no active part in the matter for the future. He
would not, for instance, travel with us, or grant leave to Moïse or the
Cook, and we knew it would be hopeless to try the “lost-in-the-post”
letter.
Hill and I felt that we had no choice but to give up, for the time
being, our kidnapping scheme. Perhaps our nerve was a little broken by
X’s unexpected intervention. A few more remarks of that nature, we felt,
might switch suspicion on to us. Suspicion might lead to unexpected
tests, and unexpected tests to discovery. What the result of that might
be we did not like to contemplate.
We put Matthews’ “operation orders” in the fire next day, and told him
we dared not go on. He agreed, regretfully, that we were right.