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It was a long voyage； since to save our coal we made most of it
under canvas。 However； we were not dull as Captain Astley was a
good companion； and even out of the melancholy Dane； Jacobsen； we
had entertainment。 He insisted on holding seances in the cabin；
at which the usual phenomena occurred。 The table twisted about；
voices were heard and Jacobsen's accordion wailed out tunes above
our heads。 These happenings drove Bickley to a kind of madness；
for here were events which he could not explain。 He was convinced
that someone was playing tricks upon him； and devised the most
elaborate snares to detect the rogue； entirely without result。
First he accused Jacobsen； who was very indignant； and then me；
who laughed。 In the end Jacobsen and I left the 〃circle〃 and the
cabin； which was locked behind us； only Bastin and Bickley
remaining there in the dark。 Presently we heard sounds of
altercation； and Bickley emerged looking very red in the face；
followed by Bastin； who was saying：
〃Can I help it if something pulled your nose and snatched off
your eyeglasses； which anyhow are quite useless to you when there
is no light？ Again； is it possible for me； sitting on the other
side of that table； to have placed the concertina on your head
and made it play the National Anthem； a thing that I have not the
slightest idea how to do？〃
〃Please do not try to explain；〃 snapped Bickley。 〃I am
perfectly aware that you deceived me somehow； which no doubt you
think a good joke。〃
〃My dear fellow；〃 I interrupted； 〃is it possible to imagine old
Basil deceiving anyone？〃
〃Why not；〃 snorted Bickley； 〃seeing that he deceives himself
from one year's end to the other？〃
〃I think；〃 said Bastin； 〃that this is an unholy business and
that we are both deceived by the devil。 I will have no more to do
with it；〃 and he departed to his cabin； probably to say some
appropriate prayers。
After this the seances were given up but Jacobsen produced an
instrument called a planchette and with difficulty persuaded
Bickley to try it； which he did after many precautions。 The
thing； a heart…shaped piece of wood mounted on wheels and with a
pencil stuck at its narrow end； cantered about the sheet of paper
on which it was placed； Bickley； whose hands rested upon it；
staring at the roof of the cabin。 Then it began to scribble and
after a while stopped still。
〃Will the Doctor look？〃 said Jacobsen。 〃Perhaps the spirits
have told him something。〃
〃Oh！ curse all this silly talk about spirits；〃 exclaimed
Bickley； as he arranged his eyeglasses and held up the paper to
the light； for it was after dinner。
He stared； then with an exclamation which I will not repeat；
and a glance of savage suspicion at the poor Dane and the rest of
us； threw it down and left the cabin。 I picked it up and next
moment was screaming with laughter。 There on the top of the sheet
was a rough but entirely recognizable portrait of Bickley with
the accordion on his head； and underneath； written in a delicate；
Italian female hand； absolutely different from his own； were
these words taken from one of St。 Paul's Epistles〃Oppositions
of science falsely so called。〃 Underneath them again in a
scrawling； schoolboy fist； very like Bastin's； was inscribed；
〃Tell us how this is done； you silly doctor； who think yourself
so clever。〃
〃It seems that the devil really can quote Scripture；〃 was
Bastin's only comment； while Jacobsen stared before him and
smiled。
Bickley never alluded to the matter； but for days afterwards I
saw him experimenting with paper and chemicals； evidently trying
to discover a form of invisible ink which would appear upon the
application of the hand。 As he never said anything about it； I
fear that he failed。
This planchette business had a somewhat curious ending。 A few
nights later Jacobsen was working it and asked me to put a
question。 To oblige him I inquired on what day we should reach
Fremantle； the port of Perth。 It wrote an answer which； I may
remark； subsequently proved to be quite correct。
〃That is not a good question；〃 said Jacobsen； 〃since as a
sailor I might guess the reply。 Try again； Mr。 Arbuthnot。〃
〃Will anything remarkable happen on our voyage to the South
Seas？〃 I inquired casually。
The planchette hesitated a while then wrote rapidly and
stopped。 Jacobsen took up the paper and began to read the answer
aloud〃To A； B the D； and B the C； the most remarkable things
will happen that have happened to men living in the world。〃
〃That must mean me； Bickley the doctor and Bastin the
clergyman；〃 I said； laughing。
Jacobsen paid no attention； for he was reading what followed。
As he did so I saw his face turn white and his eyes begin to
start from his head。 Then suddenly he tore the paper in pieces
which he thrust into his pocket。 Lifting his great fist he
uttered some Danish oath and with a single blow smashed the
planchette to fragments； after which he strode away； leaving me
astonished and somewhat disturbed。 When I met him the next
morning I asked him what was on the paper。
〃Oh！〃 he said quietly； 〃something I should not like you too…
proper English gentlemens to see。 Something not nice。 You
understand。 Those spirits not always good； they do that kind of
thing sometimes。 That's why I broke up this planchette。〃
Then he began to talk of something else and there the matter
ended。
I should have said that； principally with a view to putting
themselves in a position to confute each other； ever since we had
started from Marseilles both Bastin and Bickley spent a number of
hours each day in assiduous study of the language of the South
Sea Islands。 It became a kind of competition between them as to
which could learn the most。 Now Bastin； although simple and even
stupid in some ways； was a good scholar； and as I knew at
college； had quite a faculty for acquiring languages in which he
had taken high marks at examinations。 Bickley； too； was an
extraordinarily able person with an excellent memory； especially
when he was on his mettle。 The result was that before we ever
reached a South Sea island they had a good working knowledge of
the local tongues。
As it chanced； too； at Perth we picked up a Samoan and his wife
who； under some of the 〃white Australia〃 regulations； were not
allowed to remain in the country and offered to work as servants
in return for a passage to Apia where we proposed to call some
time or other。 With these people Bastin and Bickley talked all
day long till really they became fairly proficient in their soft
and beautiful dialect。 They wished me to learn also； but I said
that with two such excellent interpreters and the natives while
they remained with us； it seemed quite unnecessary。 Still； I
picked up a good deal in a quiet way； as much as they did
perhaps。
At length； travelling on and on as a voyager to the planet Mars
might do； we sighted the low shores of