long would he continue to fight to that end. He would have gone off by himself at once, but his long experience and profound knowledge of psychic phenomena taught him that it would be useless. He fully understood that the ability to hear this voice across the void, always supposing it to be genuine, depended infinitely more on the previously established mental rapport of the speaker and listener, than on the ears of the latter.
Rudge Continues His Efforts
He saw how the sensorial organism of Macrae when he first heard the voice, an exceptional condition of an exceptional being, poised by combined exhaustion and horror on a needle point of unstable equilibrium, had enabled him to feel, rather than hear, the etheric impulse of the far-flung call. By one chance in a million, or rather, in countless millions, Macrae while in a sub-conscious state, had over his ears the receiver of the most powerful radio installation on earth.
By such a chance, rapport had been established, and now it only remained to take advantage of that fact. Macrae must be brought again to the instrument. But how was his obstinacy to be subdued?
To the scientist everything reduced itself to a problem. He knows there is no cause without effect, or effect without a cause. Professor Rudge had ascertained Macrae to be a young man of keen intelligence but weak will. The human will is like everything else in this, that the weaker has to give way to the stronger. Rudge had no doubt as to his own will being much the stronger; yet Macrae did not give way. There was the problem, evidently containing an unknown quantity somewhere for further investigation.
The Professor decided meanwhile to try to overcome the obstacle by further pressure, and to that end made the acquaintance of May Treherne. He had learned that she made her living as a typist in Plymouth.
He was agreeably surprised when he met her. He perceived at once that she had been much better educated than Macrae, that she was a strong character, of sound common sense. He had intended to enlist her aid by demonstrating to her the material advantages to Macrae, and eventually to herself. He quickly saw that she would be capable of enthusiasm without regard to sordid considerations, and began to ask himself how much he might tell her.
The Operator's Sweetheart Tells Him to Go
He decided that he was bound to respect the Government secret, but that he would trust her with what he considered his own, thus showing the confidence with which she had inspired him. He was surprised to find how little Macrae had told. This had been due to the rebuke administered by Captain Evered on the Sagitta. Of that the Professor knew nothing.
Under pledge of secrecy, May Treherne was placed in possession of the facts, except that Professor Rudge was careful to omit everything that could indicate the existence of such a place as Station X.
Her enthusiasm was pleasant to witness, and surpassed the Professor's expectations. The record of "the voice" was placed in her hands, and she was told it was a part, in fact the end, of a diary that Macrae had kept while at the station, in the form of daily letters addressed to herself.
"Then you did do it, after all," she said, turning to Macrae, and there was that in her look and tone that showed the previous absence of the diary had not escaped her attention. Yet she had never once alluded to what must have appeared to her an unfulfilled promise.
"Where, then," she asked, "is the rest of it?"
The Professor told her that at the Admiralty it had been considered to contain remarks referring too closely to what were Government secrets, and that it had been confiscated in consequence.
"I may add," said he, "that I think they were on the whole justified."
"Oh!" she said, and for a moment appeared about to say more, but she took the discreet but unfeminine course of adding nothing.
She put a great many questions to Macrae on the subject on which Professor Rudge had enlightened her. During these the Professor, who was on the watch to intervene if necessary, was struck by the tactful way in which she kept within the bounds of that subject and did not tread on forbidden ground.
"And to you, Alan," she glowed, "has come this distinction! You must go with Professor Rudge, as he wishes, and return the most famous man in the world."
Professor Rudge saw at once what a powerful ally he had enlisted, and he could not doubt the result. But he was mistaken. Macrae was as immovable as ever.
Evolving a Theory and Some Letters
Not being able to spend further time at Plymouth, the Professor left the lovers to fight it out, and returned to town. But he had not abandoned the thing. He knew he had for the moment played his best trump, and, while awaiting events, he carefully studied the subject. He gave special attention to what information he had been able to get from Macrae respecting the time when he lost consciousness. He was particularly struck with the words employed in describing it to Dr. Anderson—"Then suddenly something like darkness descended on me, accompanied by some sharp command of the first voice, and I was apparently struck a violent blow in the darkness on the back of my head." A theory was beginning to form itself in his mind, but before working further on it he decided to await news from Plymouth.
It was toward the end of Macrae's month when there came a letter from May:
"Dear Professor Rudge,—
"I have not met with any success with Alan, and cannot understand him. I thought I had the stronger will of the two. I have done all I can to persuade him to do as you wish, but failed. He is not obstinate about it; on the contrary, he is greatly upset apparently at not being able to humor me. In the circumstances I cannot do more, and I beg of you not to write to him again on the subject; it worries him so. I am very sorry to disappoint you.
"Yours sincerely,
"May Treherne."
