“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.”