LITMIR.BIZ

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its horns, and rubbish of that kind. Nobody as yet suspects that this has any connection with the Karburator. Marek,” Bondy added in a whisper, “I’ll tell you something, but it’s a dead secret. A week ago it attacked our Minister for War.”

      “Whom!” cried Marek.

      “Hush, quietly. The Minister for War. He ‘saw the light’ all of a sudden in his villa at Dejvice. The following morning he assembled the garrison of Prague, talked to them about eternal peace, and exhorted the troops to become martyrs. Of course he had to resign at once. The papers stated that his health had suddenly broken down. And that’s how matters stand, my friend.”

      “In Dejvice already!” groaned the engineer. “It’s terrible, Bondy, the way it’s spreading.”

      “It’s amazing,” said Bondy. “The other day a man shifted his piano from the infected Mixa Street area out to Pankrác. In twenty-four hours the whole house was down with it.”

      Here the Chairman was interrupted. A servant entered to announce a caller in the person of Bishop Linda. Marek hurriedly rose to take his leave, but Bondy forced him to resume his seat, saying, “Just sit still and say nothing. The Bishop’s really a charming man.” At that moment the Suffragan Bishop Linda came into the room.

      He was a small, jolly person with gold spectacles and a comical mouth puckered up in clerical fashion in pleasant childish folds. Bondy introduced Marek to him as the owner of the ill-omened cellar at Břevnov. The Bishop rubbed his hands with delight while the wrathful engineer spluttered out something about being “delighted to have the honour,” with a dogged expression that said clearly, “Confound you for a canting humbug!” The Bishop pursed his lips and turned quickly to Bondy.

      He began briskly, without beating about the bush. “I’ve come to you on a very delicate errand. Very delicate indeed,” he repeated with relish. “We have been discussing your . . . ahem . . . your affair in the Consistory. His Eminence, the Archbishop, wishes to settle this regrettable incident with as little publicity as possible. You understand. This objectionable business about the miracles. Oh, I’m sorry. I have no wish to hurt the feelings of Mr. . . . er . . . the proprietor . . .”

      “Please go on,” Marek conceded gruffly.

      “Well, then, in a word, the whole scandal. His Eminence declares that from the standpoint of both reason and faith there can be nothing more offensive than this godless and blasphemous perversion ‘of the laws of Nature. . . .”

      “I beg your pardon!” Marek broke out disgustedly. “Would you mind leaving the laws of Nature to us? After all, we don’t interfere with your dogmas!”

      “You are mistaken,” cried the Bishop gaily. “Quite mistaken. Science without dogma is only a heap of doubts. What is worse, your Absolute opposes the laws of the Church. It contradicts the doctrine of the holy sacraments. It does not regard the traditions of the Church. It seriously violates the doctrine of the Trinity. It pays no attention to the apostolic succession. It does not even submit to the rites of exorcism. And so on. In short, it behaves itself in a manner which we must severely discountenance.”

      “Come, come,” suggested Bondy propitiatingly. “Up to the present its behaviour has been very . . . dignified.”

      The Bishop raised his finger warningly.

      “Up to the present; but we don’t know how it will behave next. Look here, Mr. Bondy,” he suddenly said in a confidential tone, “it is to your interest that there should be no unpleasantness. To our interest, too. You would like to settle it quickly, like a practical business man. So should we, as the representatives and servants of the Lord. We cannot permit the rise of some new God or possibly a new religion.”

      “Thank Heaven,” Mr. Bondy sighed with relief. “I knew we should come to an agreement.”

      “Splendid!” cried the Bishop, his eyes sparkling with happiness through his spectacles. “An agreement, that’s the thing. The venerable Consistory decided that in the interests of the Church it would place your . . . er . . . Absolute provisionally under its patronage. It would attempt to bring it into harmony with Catholic doctrine. It would proclaim the premises in Břevnov known as No. 1651 a miraculous shrine and place of pilgrimage. . . .”

      “Oho!” growled Marek, and leaped to his feet.

      “Permit me,” said the Bishop with an imperious motion. “A miraculous shrine and place of pilgrimage—with certain conditions, of course. The first condition is that on the aforesaid premises the production of the Absolute should be limited to the smallest possible quantity, and that it should be only weak, almost innocuous, very much diluted Absolute, whose manifestations would be less uncontrollable and more irregular, rather as at Lourdes. Otherwise we cannot assume the responsibility.”

      “Very well,” agreed Mr. Bondy. “And what else?”

      “Further,” continued the Bishop, “it is to be manufactured only from coal obtained at Male Svantovice. As you know, there is a miraculous shrine of the Virgin in that district, so that with the aid of this particular coal we might establish at No. 1651 Břevnov a centre for the worship of Our Lady.”

      “Undoubtedly,” assented Mr. Bondy. “Anything more?”

      “In the third place, you must bind yourself not to manufacture the Absolute at any other place or time.”

      “What?” cried G. H. Bondy, “and our Karburators——”

      “—Will never come into operation, with the exception of the one at Břevnov, which remains the property of the Holy Church, and will be under her management.”

      “Nonsense,” protested G. H. Bondy. “The Karburators shall be manufactured. In three weeks’ time ten of them will be erected. In the first six months there will be twelve hundred. In the course of a year, ten thousand. Our arrangements have gone as far as that already.”

      “And I tell you,” said the Bishop quietly and sweetly, “that at the end of that year not a single Karburator will be running.”

      “Why not?”

      “Because mankind, whether believers or unbelievers, cannot do with a real and active God. We simply cannot, gentlemen. It is out of the question.”

      “And I tell you,” Marek interposed vehemently, “that the Karburators shall be made. I’m in favour of them myself now. I mean to have them precisely because you don’t want them. In spite of you, my Lord Bishop, in spite of all superstition, in spite of all Rome! And I mean to be the first to cry”—here the engineer took breath, then burst out with unmelodious enthusiasm—“Success to the Perfect Karburator!”

      “We shall see,” said the Bishop with a sigh. “You gentlemen will live to be convinced that the venerable Consistory was right. In a year’s time you will stop the manufacture of the Absolute of your own accord. But, oh, the damage, the devastation it will bring to pass in the meantime! Gentlemen, in the name of Heaven, do not imagine that the Church brings God into the world. The Church merely confines Him and controls Him. And you two unbelievers are loosing Him upon the earth like a flood. The ship of Peter will survive even this deluge; like the Ark of Noah, it will ride out this inundation of the Absolute—but your modern society,” cried the Bishop with a mighty voice, “that will pay the price!”

      VI

      THE BOARD-MEETING

      “Gentlemen”—it was G.H. Bondy addressing the meeting of the Board of Directors of the M.E.C. (the Metallo-Electrical Company) held on February 20th—“I have to inform you that one building of our new group of factories at Vysočany has been completed and began production yesterday. In a very few days the standardized production of Karburators will be in full swing, beginning with eighteen finished machines per day. In April we expect to turn out sixty-five per day; by the end of July two hundred per day. We have laid down fifteen kilometres of private line, chiefly

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