“Understood—Rossi to Coltano. Good telephony. Cannot hear Coltano.”
Next second another station, which he took to be Aberdeen, sent a message:
“Have understood Rossi to Coltano. What is the mystery? Have not heard Coltano’s reply. Waiting for Coltano.”
But though the young experimenter listened intently the station in Central Italy remained silent.
Suddenly, however, he heard the well-known note of the great Italian radio-station, which tapped out in Morse, after giving his call-signal, “I.C.I.,” the letters “Q.R.A.”—the conventional sign for the question: “What is the name of your station?”
To this there was no reply. Half-a-dozen times the request came from Italy, apparently for the name of the station working telephony, though even that was not clear. Yet, no doubt, a hundred pairs of ears were listening in England alone. At the moment several stations were jamming each other so badly that it became extremely difficult to pick out the words from Coltano.
Again, with almost startling distinctness, the strong, continuous wave of electricity was heard in the telephones, and the same voice spoke:
“This is 2.C.Q., calling I.C.I. Rossi speaking. Glad you got my message. Addio!”
The voice with its foreign accent sounded to Geoffrey much like that of his friend, but being distorted, recognition was not easy.
The whole circumstance was most puzzling, to say the least, and Geoffrey ascended to his room wondering not so much why Enrico had so suddenly made up his mind not to return to Italy as to the identity of the station from which he had transmitted that telephone message across Europe.