they hammered copper past all sanity. It got hardened, and they thought it was tempered. There are electroplated objects surviving from a thousand years and more ago. The Greeks made a steam turbine in the classic age. It's more than likely that they made a magic lantern. But there could be no science without scientific thinking. They got results by accident, but they didn't know what they were doing or what they'd done. They couldn't think technically ... so there are no lost arts, only redefinitions. We can do everything the ancients could."
"Can you make a place that will stay cold for sixty years--let alone seven hundred?"
"It's an illusion," said Coghlan. "It must be! You'd better ask Appolonius how it's done. That's in his line."
"I would be pleased if you would examine again that cold place on the wall at 80 Hosain," said Ghalil ruefully. "If it is an illusion, it is singularly impenetrable!"
"I promised," said Coghlan, "to go on a picnic today with the Mannards. They're going up along the Sea of Marmora to look at a piece of ground."
Ghalil raised his eyebrows.
"They plan a home here?"
"A children's camp," Coghlan explained with reserve. "Mannard's a millionaire. He's given a lot of money to the American College, and it's been suggested that he do something more. A camp for slum-children is projected. He may finance it to show what can be done for children's health by the sort of thing that's standard in the United States. He's looking over a site. If he puts up the money, the camp will be handled by Turkish personnel and the cost and results worked out. If it's successful, the Turkish Government or private charities will carry it on and extend it."
"Admirable," said Lieutenant Ghalil. "One would not like to see such a man murdered."
Coghlan did not comment. Ghalil rose.
"But--come and examine this refrigeration-apparatus of ancient days, please! After all, it is undoubtedly mentioned in a memorandum in your handwriting of seven-hundred years ago! And--Mr. Coghlan, will you be careful?"
"Of what?"
"For one, Mr. Mannard." Ghalil's expression was wry. "I do not believe in things from the past any more than you do, but as a philosopher and a policeman I have to face facts even when they are impossible, and possibilities even when they are insane. There are two things foretold which disturb me. I hope you will help me to prevent them."
"The murder of Mannard, of course. But what's the other?"
"I should regret that, and I guard against it," Ghalil told him. "But I would be intellectually more disturbed if you should cut your thumb. A murder would be explicable."
Coghlan grinned. "I won't. That's not likely!"
"That is why I dread it. Please come to 80 Hosain when you can. I am having the room examined microscopically--and cleaned in the process. I 

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