“Dear Jones,
I send you the Cook under pretext of inspecting the stove and demanding a tobacco flat tin. Will you give him the Instructions I gave you yesterday to which you have agreed?
Yours,
Moïse.”
To refuse would be to arouse suspicion and possibly upset all our plans. There was nothing for it but to hand over the evidence.
On the same day—March 4th—the Pimple reported that Colonel Maule’s letter had been consigned to the mercies of the Turkish Post Office. Hill and I went over our arrangements for the last time, and made certain we had left nothing undone. According to programme we were to be arrested next day.
But March 5th came and went. All day long Hill and I waited and longed for our arrest. It did not come. In the evening the Pimple arrived and informed us that the Commandant had been too busy taking part in the celebrations of the Russian Peace. We knew it for a lie. We knew that he was “ratting” at the last moment, that once more he was funking a possible reprimand from Constantinople. But it would never do to say so. Instead, we simulated joy at our reprieve. We said that with luck this would be the last of the unhappy affair, and that we were glad to be relieved of the burden. Then we expressed our earnest hope that the Spook would visit no punishment on the Commandant or the Pimple for their failure to obey. But after the Pimple had gone we raged together, up and down the lane and round and round the Hospital garden, till the sentries drove us indoors at dark. We both spent a miserable night. For it looked as if the War might last another twenty years—and our plan had failed.
On the morning of March 6th, about 10.30 a.m., Moïse came to us and complained that he had been “spooked,” that the Commandant had been very angry with him; and that while pretending to be too unwell to carry out the programme, he really intended to postpone it for good and all, because of his fear of Constantinople.
“I am certain,” said the unhappy Pimple, “that the Spook has put into his head ideas against me. Otherwise he could not have known. It is the beginning of our punishment for yesterday’s delay. I know it. I am sure. And his turn will come!” Then he begged for one last séance to consult the Spook.
“But what have you been up to, to make him angry?” I asked, as we walked together towards the Dispensary.