“That was a mistake,” said Bondy dryly. “Perhaps you could come to some agreement with Him. A proper formal contract, in something like this style: ‘We guarantee to produce You discreetly and continuously to an extent to be fixed by mutual agreement; in return for which You pledge yourself to refrain from any divine manifestations within such and such a radius from the place of origin.’ What do you think—would He consider these terms?”

“I don’t know,” answered Marek uneasily. “He seems to have a decided inclination in favour of becoming independent of matter once more. Still, perhaps . . . in His own interests . . . He might be willing to listen. But don’t ask me to do it.”

“Very well, then!” Bondy agreed. “I’ll send my own solicitor. A very tactful and capable fellow. And then again . . . er . . . . one might perhaps offer Him some church or other. After all, a factory cellar and its surroundings are rather . . . well . . . undignified quarters for Him. We ought to ascertain His tastes. Have you tried yet?”

“No; it would suit me best to flood the cellar with water.”

“Gently, Marek, gently. I’m probably going to buy this invention. You understand, of course, that . . . I’ll send my experts over first . . . we’ll have to look into the business a little further. Perhaps it’s only poisonous fumes, after all. And if it actually turns out to be God Himself, that’s all right. So long as the Karburator really works.”

Marek got up. “And you wouldn’t be afraid to install the Karburator in the M.E.C. works?”

“I’m not afraid,” said Bondy, rising, “to manufacture Karburators wholesale. Karburators for trains and ships. Karburators for central heating, for houses, offices, factories, and schools. In ten years’ time all the heating in the world will be done by Karburators. I’ll give you three percent of the gross profits. The first year it will only be a few millions, perhaps. Meanwhile you can move out, so that I can send my men along. I’ll bring the Suffragan Bishop up to-morrow morning. See that you keep out of his way, Rudy. I don’t like seeing you about here in any case. You are rather abrupt, and I don’t want to offend the Absolute to start with.”

“Bondy,” Marek whispered, horror-stricken. “I warn you for the last time. It means letting God loose upon this world!”

“Then,” said G. H. Bondy, with dignity, “He will be personally indebted to me to that extent. And I hope that He won’t show me any ill-feeling.”

V. Bishop Linda

CHAPTER V

BISHOP LINDA

ABOUT a fortnight after New Year’s Day, Marek was sitting in Bondy’s business office.

“How far have you got?” Bondy had just asked, raising his head from some papers over which he was bending.

“I’ve finished,” said the engineer. “I’ve given your engineers detailed drawings of the Karburator. That bald-headed fellow—what’s his name——”