Hill pulled a long face and then burst out laughing. “Far from it,” he said; “I never had a chance of mentioning it. The Colonel’s got the wind up. He thinks the camp is in for a strafing. He told me I was always running the risk of getting the rest of them into trouble. This was the third time, he said, I had played the ass, and he gave me a proper dressing-down for getting you into a bad hole with what he called my hanky-panky tricks. I said I couldn’t see anything hanky-panky in thought-reading. Then he asked me to give my parole not to communicate with anyone outside by telepathy.”
“Did you give it?” I asked.
“Lord, yes! What’s the odds!” Hill was shaking with laughter. “Only I explained what a hard job it is to control thought-waves, so he said he would be satisfied with a promise not to send them out wilfully. I gave that!”
Instead of getting rid of his old parole Hill had gone and got himself involved in a new one! The situation was growing absurd. As soon as we could master our merriment—a task of no small difficulty—we went together to the gallant Colonel and asked for an interview. He led the way into his own bedroom.
“Hill tells me,” I said with great solemnity, “that you blame him for getting me into trouble over this telepathy business. I want to explain to you that I started my experiments long before I had anything to do with Hill. He is in no way to blame.”
“I am delighted to hear it,” he answered.
“On April 22nd,” I explained, “I wrote to a friend in England, who is interested in spiritualism and telepathy, suggesting that on the first evening of each month we should hold simultaneous séances in England and in Yozgad to try and get into communication. As you may know, we here have held these séances on the first of each month, and have endeavoured to send and receive messages. It was not until these experiments had been in progress for nine months that Hill and I came together as spiritualists.”
“I see,” said the Colonel; “but since you admit you began it, why won’t you end it? Why can’t you settle the matter in the way the Commandant has suggested, and give the Turks your parole not to send or receive any more thought-messages?”
I was prepared for the question, and produced three letters from my correspondent in England, each of which quoted messages concerning myself received through mediums in England. “Those are not amongst any of the messages I consciously sent,” I explained, “but I distinctly remember thinking about at least one of the subjects he mentions. This shows that your ordinary thoughts are liable to be picked up. Now, supposing I give the Commandant my parole, and then this correspondent of mine or some other experimenter picks up a casual thought from me and writes me a letter about it? The Turks censor our letters and would see it. Nothing could convince them I have not broken my word.”
At my request the Colonel glanced through the letters. “But these have been censored,” he said in surprise, pointing to the Turkish censor’s mark.