“What did he say to that?” I asked.

“Do you know, I think it frightened him, if one could imagine Oro being frightened.  At any rate he remarked that the truth or falsity of what I said was an urgent matter for him, as he could not expect to live more than a few hundred years longer, though perhaps he might prolong the period by another spell of sleep.  Then he asked me why I thought him so wicked.  I replied because he himself said that he had drowned millions of people, which showed an evil heart and intention even if it were not a fact.  He thought a long while and asked what could be done in the circumstances.  I replied that repentance and reparation were the only courses open to him.”

“Reparation!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, reparation was what I said, though I think I made a mistake there, as you will see.  As nearly as I can remember, he answered that he was beginning to repent, as from all he had learned from us, he gathered that the races which had arisen as a consequence of his action, were worse than those which he had destroyed.  As regards reparation, what he had done once he could do again.  He would think the matter over seriously, and see if it were possible and advisable to raise those parts of the world which had been sunk, and sink those which had been raised.  If so, he thought that would make very handsome amends to the departed nations and set him quite right with any superior Power, if such a thing existed.  What are you laughing at, Bickley?  I don’t think it a laughing matter, since such remarks do not seem to me to indicate any real change in Oro’s heart, which is what I was trying to effect.”

Bickley, who was convulsed with merriment, wiped his eyes and said: 

“You dear old donkey, don’t you see what you have done, or rather would have done if there were a word of truth in all this ridiculous story about a deluge?  You would be in the way of making your precious pupil, who certainly is the most masterly old liar in the world, repeat his offence and send Europe to the bottom of the sea.”

“That did occur to me, but it doesn’t much matter as I am quite certain that such a thing would never be allowed.  Of course there was a real deluge once, but Oro had no more to do with it than I had.  Don’t you agree, Arbuthnot?”

“I think so,” I answered cautiously, “but really in this place I am beginning to lose count of what is or is not possible.  Also, of course, there may have been many deluges; indeed the history of the world shows that this was so; it is written in its geological strata.  What was the end of it?”

“The end was that he took the South Sea Bible and, after I had explained a little about our letters, seemed to be able to read it at once.  I suppose he was acquainted with the art of printing in his youth.  At any rate he said that he would study it, I don’t know how, unless he can read, and that in two days’ time he would let me know what he thought about the matter of my religion.  Then he told me to go.  I said that I did not know the way and was afraid of losing myself.  Thereupon he waved his hand, and I really can’t say what happened.”