The Pimple laughed at him. “But you dare not, you fear too much the Spook!”
CHAPTER X
HOW WE WERE TRIED AND CONVICTED FOR TELEPATHY
There followed a delightfully busy fortnight for Hill and myself. We made a minute study of a large book on mental diseases, purloined from the Doctor’s library, and improved our minds with other medical lore anent an illness to which the Commandant was subject. Under a specious plea we borrowed from Spink an Armenian-French dictionary—a treasured possession which he kept hidden under a movable plank in the floor of his room. Spink was an industrious and painstaking youth. With a view to a possible escape, and with the aid of George Borrow’s Lavengro, he had transliterated the Armenian alphabet. This was to prove most useful. He had also drawn up an Armenian phrase-book, which I studied with such diligence and profit that later on the Spook of the murdered owner of the treasure appeared and spoke to us in the Armenian tongue! But for the present the use of the dictionary was to enable Hill to manufacture two brief but extremely interesting Armenian documents. These we enclosed, along with some ashes from our charcoal brazier and two Turkish gold sovereigns, in two small tin cases. The cases were buried by Hill, three miles apart, while he was out ski-ing. As the Ski-Club was also due to Spink’s initiative, we owe that ornament of the Indian Public Works Department a deep debt of gratitude.
While Hill was busy with his document-making and his burying, it was my duty to inculcate a proper respect for telepathy in the chosen witnesses of the forthcoming trial. Doc. O’Farrell was already converted. He would do “as he was” for one witness at our trial; but we threw in a private exhibition to make all secure. Almost any of the juniors would do for a second. We also required at least two field officers, preferably with Red Tabs, and one of the two ought to have an official position in the camp. A couple of days of the Socratic method convinced Peel. A “practical experiment” in which Hill conveyed to me “by telepathy” that he had been shown a black-handled knife when two miles away from the camp, satisfied the Adjutant, Gilchrist, who owned and had shown the knife. We had our four “witnesses” for the trial ready, and knew they would all swear to the possibility of telepathy in all genuineness. En passant, it is worthy of remark that one witness who believes that what he says is true (though it may be as false as Ananias’s best effort) is worth ten of a conscious liar in any Court of Law.
Then, in case the Turks saw fit to test the accuracy of the Spook’s assertion concerning the telepathic receipt of the message about the movement of troops from the Caucasus, it became necessary to receive such a message at a séance. Mundey and Edmonds, both true believers, were victimized. We received the message in their presence, and at the bidding of the Spook gave our words of honour to keep its source a secret. This “word of honour” came in most usefully later on.
Lastly, there were two men in the camp—Barton and Nightingale—who knew the secret of our telepathic code. It was quite possible that if the Turks arrested us for telepathy these two men would expose the code in order to obtain our release. We could easily have trusted them with the whole story, but on our principle to implicate nobody and tell nobody—until it became absolutely necessary—we decided to keep quiet. A hint to say nothing, whatever happened, was sufficient for these two loyal friends.
We were now ready for anything the Commandant might care to do—the worse the better, within limits. But the Commandant was by no means ready to begin. Up to a point our plotting and lying had been completely successful. He accepted without question the truth of the information contained in the magic letter, but he was doubtful about the future and he wanted to make himself perfectly safe with his own War Office. It took three more séances to satisfy him, for he had piles of questions to ask the Spook. Must he report the trial to Constantinople, and if so what should he say? What would the camp think? What would Colonel Maule say in his monthly sealed letter to Headquarters? What if the War Office wanted to punish the mediums more severely? What was the sentence to be? How many days, or weeks, or months? How severe the conditions of imprisonment? Supposing the War Office asked where the letter was found, or who found it? Supposing the prisoners should write home about the matter, was he to destroy their letters? What was the best day of the week to begin on? And so forth and so on. The Spook solved each and all of these problems in a most satisfactory way. It dictated his report to Constantinople.[[16]] It promised to reveal within a month of the trial the secret of how the treasure was buried. It promised to safeguard the Commandant from any possible punishment by his superiors. And It threatened in most bloodthirsty terms to be avenged if we did not adopt the plan over which It had spent so much thought and care.
At the beginning of each month our Senior Officer was permitted to send to Turkish Headquarters at Constantinople a sealed letter. This the local Yozgad authorities were not allowed to censor. The object was to give prisoners the opportunity of criticizing the conduct of the Commandant direct to the Turkish War Office. The Commandant was anxious that this letter should be sent off before we began operations. With any luck, we might have found the treasure before the month was out and the next letter sent. Hill and I would then be back in camp and Colonel Maule would have no cause to grouse about our treatment. So the Commandant argued. Hill and I were fairly confident that so long as our imprisonment did not affect the comfort of the rest of the camp in general, nothing much would be said about it, however absurd the charge against us might be. We would be allowed to “dree oor ain weird.” But we did not say so to the Commandant. We agreed with him that, in view of the “solidarity of the British Empire,” and the curious habit British Senior Officers have of interesting themselves in the welfare of their juniors, this was a bit of a problem. So we left it to the Spook to answer. The Spook decided that the best date to begin operations was that immediately following the day on which Colonel Maule posted his monthly letter.
On Saturday, March 2nd, 1918, Colonel Maule sent his sealed letter up to the Commandant’s office. On March 3rd Hill and I asked for and received from the Interpreter the full “score” of the forthcoming trial—a lengthy, written document embodying all the instructions of the Spook. We were asked to make certain we had our parts pat, and to reply if we agreed to the programme. I saw the Pimple that evening in the lane, and told him we agreed, but did not return his written instructions. These we intended to keep, for they would be valuable and irrefutable evidence of the complicity of the Turks in our designs. But Johnny Turk was risking nothing. The wily Oriental is thoroughly well aware of the fact that litera scripta manet. On March 4th the Cook came to our room and began fiddling with our stove. He made unintelligible demands for a “tinniké.” Then when no one was looking he slipped into my hands the following note, the original of which I still possess—