“The Commandant now put his hand in the desk, drew out a half sheet of paper (I think quarto, such as is used in a Turkish Government Office) and handed it to Jones.
“Lieut. Jones showed marked agitation while reading the note. He bit his lip, clenched his hands, and appeared as if he was suffering from extreme excitement, from a medical point of view, and as if he was going into a trance from a psycho-physical point of view.”
(The conclusion is taken from Major Gilchrist’s narrative):
“The Commandant ... asked Lieut. Jones what he had to say. Jones said he did not deny that he had received and sent telepathic messages, and had received war news by these means. The Commandant then asked him who his correspondent was. Jones refused to state. The Commandant then threatened Lieut. Jones with solitary confinement, without his orderly, and on bread and water, unless he told him who his correspondent was. He was given 24 hours to decide whether he would answer or not. Further, he was asked to give his word of honour not to communicate telepathically with anyone. This he said he could not do as he could not control his thoughts. When again informed that he must give the name of his correspondent or be court-martialled, and must give his word of honour, Lieut. Jones replied, ‘I have given my word of honour not to disclose my correspondent. If I break this word, what is the use of my word not to communicate?’ The Commandant then said he would not put Lieut. Jones on bread and water until he had news from Constantinople, and again the Commandant said that his duty to his country made him insist on demanding the name of the correspondent. Lieut. Jones said that the Power his gift gave him also made it his duty to assist his country. Lieut. Jones demanded of the Commandant what charge he would be tried on, and asked, ‘Am I to be tried on a charge of communicating telepathically with outsiders and not divulging the name when asked for it?’ The Commandant assured him it was so. Lieut. Jones then stated that 24 or 48 hours would not make any difference. He would not divulge the name....”
We left the office for our 24 hours’ grace, Hill and I secretly triumphant but outwardly indignant, and our four witnesses in a mood very different from that in which they had entered the sacred precincts. They were now much chastened. They had expected to see the Turk betray an intelligent interest in the mysterious phenomena of telepathy, which they themselves had found so engrossing. They had willingly imparted to him their own knowledge of the difficult problem: but they had never dreamed that their belief in telepathy would be turned to practical use against two of their fellow-officers, and they felt that, while in common with our two selves they had been very neatly trapped, their ingenuous little confession of faith had gone not a little way towards hanging us.
“I never thought the Commandant had it in him to work out such a trap,” said the Doc.
“Yes,” said Gilchrist, “it was typically Oriental—and confoundedly clever.”
Their respect for the Commandant’s ability had suddenly risen to boiling-point. They could talk of little else as we walked back to camp.
There is one point on which these three good fellows are silent in their written reports. I had committed what was in their eyes the unpardonable sin. I had given away my accomplice—Hill. When to all appearance there was no need for it, I inculpated him with myself, and indeed went rather out of my way to mention his name. To them it was inexplicable. It was conduct utterly unworthy of a British officer. They taxed me with it as soon as we reached camp, and asked why I had done such a thing. I looked as ashamed as possible. The trap, I said, had taken me unawares. I had lost my temper—and my head—and blurted out my confession, which involved Hill, before I knew where I was. Of their charity (I forget if Charity also is blind, but she ought to be), they accepted this explanation, and tried to forgive me in their hearts. The truth, of course, was that it was the Commandant who had lost his head. He had confined his attention and his questions entirely to me. Hill was not asked anything. It was essential that the Commandant should have some ostensible reason for “jugging” us both together, and on the spur of the moment I had supplied his omission in the best way I could—by dragging in Hill’s name and implicating him with myself.