The Road to En-dor

by E. H. Jones

  MOÏSE: ‘Quite true.’

  SPOOK: ‘I guessed if I got one lot I must fail with the other, as we had opposition. Now let me explain how thought-waves differ from wireless waves. First: direction. Moïse, which direction is best for wireless?’

  MOÏSE: ‘I think it is East to West. I do not remember.’

  SPOOK: ‘Wrong! Look it up!’

  MOÏSE (referring to his book on wireless): ‘It is North to South.’

  SPOOK: ‘Right! Now thought-waves have three bad directions and one good one. The good one is South to North. When travelling in that way the wave is at its strongest. Also, in wireless you have an immense number of radiating waves. In thought you have only one wave. Wireless waves radiate. Understand?’

  MOÏSE: ‘Yes.’

  SPOOK: ‘The single thought-wave goes like this – draw the motion of the glass.’ (Note. – The glass moved in a left-hand spiral and Moïse drew a picture of a spiral.)

  ‘Now thought-waves are attracted by water, as if gravity kept them down low. They travel close to the surface of the sea. The bigger the expanse of water, the more the main body and force of the wave is centred low down. But land has the opposite effect. It throws the main body of the wave high in the air. See?’

  MOÏSE: ‘Yes, Sir.’

  SPOOK: ‘The bigger the expanse of land and the higher the mountains and the drier the surface, the higher becomes the main body of the wave, so by the time a thought transmitted from Paris reaches the middle of China it is very high and only the ragged edges are within reach. Now the only thing that will bring it down again is a big expanse of water, and the descent is gradual like the trajectory of a bullet.’

  A glance at a map will show whither all this rigmarole was tending. At Yozgad it would be difficult to read AAA’s thoughts because the thought-wave, starting in a left-hand spiral from Constantinople, would be bumped up by the Taurus mountains and the dryness of the desert to the north of them, and would pass very high over Yozgad. Down at the Mediterranean coast things would be simple, for the wave would pass low down over the surface of the sea. The Black Sea would be almost as hopeless as Yozgad, unless we went out a long way from shore to where the wave had again reached the surface of the water. The best time to pick it up would be when it was at its strongest, i.e., in the night.

  The next step was to dangle a fresh bait in front of the Turks. We had got the sea – we wanted the boat.

  ‘I have an idea of trying the “Four Cardinal Point Receiver” if you will help,’ said the Spook.

  Moïse naturally asked what the ‘Four Cardinal Point Receiver’ might be.

  The Spook told us it was a secret method of thought-reading not known in our sphere. It had once been known to the ancient Egyptians (the Pimple pricked up his ears at the mention of Egypt) but the knowledge had been lost. It was based on the principle which we had already learned – ‘that once a thought has been thought it is always there’, or, in more technical language, the thought-wave once created becomes telechronistic and travels in an eternal spiral in the fourth dimension of space. The method of the Four Cardinal Point Receiver was infinitely preferable to our cumbersome ‘trance-talk’ and ‘Ouija’ methods of thought-reading, because by them you could only read the thoughts of persons you knew existed, whereas by the Egyptian method every thought was accessible to us. ‘That is to say,’ said the Spook, ‘you can know anything that has ever happened anywhere and at any time. Not only this treasure but all treasures and all knowledge will be revealed.’ If we promised to try it, the Spook agreed to tell us how it was done, but it must be kept a profound secret.

  We promised, and the secret was revealed. I present it, free of charge, to all mediums, amateur and professional, who happen to be at a loss to invent some fresh leg-pull. Here it is:

  Get on to the surface of the sea – preferably in a boat – so as to be on a level with the main body of the thought-wave. Go at night when the wave is at its strongest. Take with you, ready prepared, a drink that is stimulating to the nerves – e.g., coffee. Four of you, facing in different directions, drink quickly and in silence. Then lie down, and pillow your heads on vessels of pure water55 – which will help to concentrate the telechronistic wave. Then count three hundred and thirty-three. Having counted, think of a pleasant memory for five minutes. All this to be done with your eyes open. The counting should be aloud, but in a low murmuring tone, and the process of counting up to three hundred and thirty-three and thinking for five minutes must be repeated three times in all, for three is the mystic number in the system. The object so far is to make the mind ‘receptive’. You next think hard of what you want to discover.

  ‘Then,’ said the Spook, ‘you try to – well, there is no human word for it. It is something like going to sleep, and the sensations are similar, if you are going to be successful. You will drop OUT, as it were. Do you understand?’

  ‘We do not understand the last sentence,’ said Moïse.

  ‘It is difficult,’ the Spook said. ‘Once you have felt it you will understand. It is like dropping to sleep, but it is really dropping out of what you call the present time and place into the past time and place which you willed to see.’

  ‘Are only the mediums able to see, or everybody?’

  ‘It will be all, or none,’ said the Spook.

  Here was ‘some offer’! Not merely one treasure, but all treasures would be ours. And Asia Minor, every Turk believes, is full of buried treasure. The stuff hidden before the recent Armenian massacres would be a fortune in itself, and when one thought of the past – of the Greeks, and Romans, and Persians – why! There was no limit to the wealth that lay within our grasp.

  ‘I am so glad we chose the seaside for our holiday,’ said the Pimple. ‘It fits in beautifully.’

  ‘It does,’ we agreed.

  ‘But I don’t quite understand about this “dropping OUT”, do you?’

  ‘No,’ said Hill slowly. ‘Seems to be something like a trance. Anyway, the Spook has promised we’ll know all about it when we wake up.’

  ‘Fancy,’ said Moïse, ‘all treasures and all knowledge! I do hope we can leave Yozgad soon.’

  He went off to dream about all the treasures of all time for the few hours that remained of the night.

  I looked across the spook-board at Hill. His face was drawn with weariness. Séances lasted anything up to six hours; it had been a very hard week, and he was pinched and pale with hunger. But his eyes were glittering.

  ‘What do you think?’ I asked.

  He pulled out of his pocket two little tubes of morphia pills and looked at them reflectively.

  ‘I was wondering,’ he said, ‘how many of these it takes in coffee to kill a man. It would be a pity to murder the Pimple, he’s such a True Believer, and I’d like to get him an introduction to Sir Oliver Lodge.’

  ‘But,’ I objected, ‘when he wakes up and finds himself half way to Cyprus, he won’t be a True Believer any more, and he’ll try to cut Lodge’s throat if he meets him.’

  ‘Don’t you believe it,’ said Hill. ‘True Believers remain True Believers right through everything. When our three wake up they’ll think that OOO is in charge of the boat – that’s all!’

  Chapter XX

  In Which We Are Foiled By a Friend

  The idea of the immense wealth that awaited them at the coast filled the minds of the Turks to the exclusion of everything else. The original treasure – a mere £18,000 – became insignificant and paltry; and, compared with the Four Cardinal Point Receiver, the methods of discovering it were cumbersome and uncertain. The Cook, especially, was in flames to start at once, and had he been our Commandant the next day would have seen us galloping for the coast. For the Cook was a very thorough sort of rascal and he saw no sense in bothering about regulations and the War Office when a bit of hard riding would put him in a position of affluence where he could bribe the whole of Turkey, if necessary. We could get to the coast and back again, he urged, before the War Office knew we
had left Yozgad, so why bother the Spook to get Kiazim leave or to get the mediums formally transferred? Let us go!

  Unfortunately the Spook had promised to make the Commandant safe with his superiors at each step, and Kiazim, being a timid man, wanted to be satisfied that no harm could come of it to himself before he moved. He would have liked to have adopted the Cook’s suggestion, but the Commandant feared some tell-tale in the Yozgad office might inform headquarters of his departure. Once we were on the road together that fear would cease to exist, but we must leave Yozgad openly and for a sufficient cause. His medical leave, and our transfer, would be ample excuse.

  Had Hill and I been at all uncertain of our ability to effect what Kiazim desired, the Spook might have insisted on our adopting the Cook’s suggestion. But so far as we could see, our plans were perfect. We had only to hoodwink the Turkish doctors into recommending our transfer to get everything that Kiazim required, and he would then come with us joyously, of his own free will, instead of nervously and under orders. As the Pimple pointed out to the impatient Cook, Kiazim could then conduct us to the destination recommended by the doctors via the coast.

  Besides, there was Matthews. Apart from our friendship for him and our anxiety to get a third man out of Turkey, his assistance would be invaluable to us. Our plan to include him in our party was what the Turks call the ‘cream of the coffee’. Hill and I had gone over it scores of times, inventing, selecting, discarding, improving, until at last we could see no flaw. It involved waiting for the Afion party to leave, but we already intended to do that in order to get hold of the Commandant, and we saw no danger in the delay. So we had sent word to Matthews that all was going well and that he would get his ‘operation orders’ in a day or two. Meantime, while he busied himself with astronomical calculations and invented a sun-compass (which was afterwards used, I believe, by Cochrane and his party in their escape)56, we made our final preparations for deceiving the Turkish doctors into ordering our transfer and reduced our daily rations to five slices of dry toast in my case, and three slices for Hill, who considered himself still obnoxiously fat.

  Then, with the sudden unexpectedness of thunder in a clear sky, the crash came.

  The reader will remember that when replying to Colonel Maule’s objections to our taking the places of two members of the Afion party, the Spook had told Moïse to let it be known that although we would not take anyone’s place, we would be added to the party because the Commandant was anxious to get rid of us. Moïse had obeyed the Spook, and it was soon known in the camp that we were leaving Yozgad. We had not imagined any possible harm could come of our friends knowing it. It would have been perfectly easy to keep the camp in complete ignorance of our movements until the day came to leave Yozgad. We paid dearly for our mistake.

  One of the members of the Afion party was X.57 X was a close friend of mine. When Hill and I were locked up by the Commandant, he put both his possessions and his services entirely at our disposal, offered to send word about us to England by means of his private cipher system,58 and was as ready as any to incur risks on our behalf. Indeed, throughout our imprisonment he had been a thorn in the flesh of the Pimple, for he let no opportunity slip of pestering that unhappy individual with questions about our welfare, and was constantly trying to discover the Commandant’s intentions towards us. Such was his assiduity in what he supposed were our interests that he had become something of a nuisance to the Turks, and they several times complained about him, contrasting his interference with the laissez-faire attitude of the rest of the camp. The Spook had seized the first opportunity to name X as the ‘medium’ through whom OOO was trying to discover our plans.59 This had explained X’s questions at the time to everybody’s amusement and satisfaction, but it was to have most woeful consequences.

  Shortly after Moïse had made his intimation about us to the camp, Hill and I were debating how soon our starvation would have reduced us enough to face the doctors with security, and had just decided that another three or four days should be sufficient, when the Pimple came in.

  ‘Once again,’ he announced, ‘X has been at it. He says he does not want to travel with you two in the same party.’

  ‘Why not?’ we asked in genuine amazement. ‘What on earth is the matter with him now?’

  ‘He says he thinks you will try to escape on the way from Yozgad to Angora, and then he and the rest of the party will be strafed. So they don’t want you with them.’

  Hill and I laughed. It was a difficult thing to do on the spur of the moment, but we managed to laugh quite naturally. We pretended to find much amusement in X’s ignorance of the real object of our journey. The Pimple was almost equally amused. Then our conversation turned to other matters.

  ‘I wonder if he was testing us?’ Hill said when the Pimple had gone.

  I don’t think so,’ I replied. ‘He dropped the subject too quick. If it had been a trap he would have shown more interest in it. X said it all right, I expect. He is probably trying to frighten the Commandant out of sending us away, to be ‘strafed,’ as he thinks! He’s had that bee in his bonnet ever since the trial.’

  ‘I still think it is a trap,’ Hill said. ‘Even if X had a whole hive in his hat he wouldn’t say a fool thing like that!’

  ‘We’ll be on pretty thin ice if they ask the Spook about it,’ I said. ‘Are we to believe X said it, or not?’

  We were not left long in doubt. While we were talking, Matthews, Price, and Doc. O’Farrell came in. They all looked unhappy, and after a few generalities and beating about the bush they ‘broke the news’ to us that the Commandant had been ‘warned.’

  ‘The Pimple has just told us,’ we said.

  The three looked their astonishment.

  ‘What’s to happen to you?’ Matthews asked, with consternation in his voice.

  ‘Nothing at all,’ I said. ‘The Pimple knows X was playing the ass, and is laughing at him for being so wide of the mark. We’ll carry on as usual. The Spook business is still going strong, and we’ve got the plan for your inclusion well worked out.’

  ‘You think no harm was done?’

  ‘None at all,’ we said.

  We were wrong. For several days we ‘carried on’ boldly with our plans, but with each visit of the Pimple we became more and more certain that there was something in the wind of which we were ignorant. We dared not question, and could only wait. Then came an evening when the Pimple burst in on us in high excitement.

  ‘The Commandant is a timid fool,’ he said viciously. ‘He is troubled about X. I tell him it is all right. But still he is troubled. Mon Dieu! He is no man, but a woman in the uniform of Bimbashi.’

  Hill and I laughed.

  ‘You mean he believes X, and thinks we are going to try and escape?’

  ‘O no! No!’ the Pimple said. ‘He is not so great a fool as that. He knows you are too weak to go ten miles. For are you not starved? Are you not lame? But he is troubled. He thinks this is a warning, not of what you intend to do, but of what our Spook or perhaps OOO intends to do for you. He fears the Spook or OOO will make you disappear.’

  ‘But how could X know what the Spook –’

  ‘You see,’ the Pimple interrupted, ‘X is the medium of OOO. He has been the mouthpiece of OOO in asking many questions. Now he is the mouthpiece of OOO in giving a warning. That is what the Commandant thinks. I tell him no doubt X is the medium of OOO; no doubt this message is from OOO, but the object of it is plain! It is evident! Have we not had experience to tell us what it means? Is it not one last despairing effort by OOO to frighten the Commandant, to stop him from sending the mediums to find the treasure? But he will not listen to me. He is troubled, much troubled. Even now he has gone to his witch, to ask her to read the cards. He is a damn fool, and a coward! Why does he not trust the Spook? Everything it has promised the Spook has done, and still he is afraid! He will spoil everything!’

  ‘Let him!’ I stretched my arms and yawned. ‘I for one won’t be sorry if he stops now. We
’ve learned the secret of the Four Point Receiver, and I don’t see what more Hill and I are likely to get out of this. We get no share in the treasure and you can take it from me it’s no joke living on dry toast and tea. I don’t mind how soon he gives it up and sends us back to the camp and decent food again.’

  ‘Nor I,’ Hill chimed in. ‘The Commandant can take his treasure or leave it, as he likes. I’ll be glad to end this starvation business. And if he angers the Spook it will be his funeral, not ours! I’ll go back to camp with pleasure.’

  The Pimple grabbed his cap and jumped to his feet. ‘What about my share – my share and the Cook’s?’ he cried. ‘Stay where you are! Don’t go back to camp! I go to see him! It will be all right.’ He rushed excitedly from the house, to argue with his superior officer.

  His efforts and the Cook’s were of no avail. The Commandant was thoroughly scared. The more he thought of what X had said the more certain he became that it was an utterance from the world beyond, to which it behoved him to pay heed. He distrusted us not at all, but he was superlatively afraid of the unseen powers, and especially of OOO. Once already OOO had temporarily gained the upper hand and nearly murdered us by the explosion. Supposing next time he succeeded? What was to prevent OOO from killing not only the two mediums, but the whole batch of treasure hunters? Our Spook could not be everywhere at once, as had been proved, and though Kiazim vowed he trusted him, he could not feel quite certain that no more mistakes would be made. The ‘opposition’ was so very strong!

  At the same time, the man wanted his treasure. We gathered from the Pimple, by means of very judicious pumping, that if the treasure could be found without the Commandant involving himself in any way with the War Office, or doing anything irregular, or being seen in our company, then all would be well. But he would not willingly commit himself – he was ‘très poltron’ – and ‘the cards’ had not been very favourable.