The Second Deluge | Page 3

little man by both hands.
"Cosmo," he said, without wasting any time on preliminaries, "have

you worked it out?"
"I have just finished."
"And you find the worst?"
"Yes, worse than I ever dreamed it would be. The waters will be six
miles deep."
"Phew!" exclaimed the other, his smile fading. "That is indeed serious.
And when does it begin?"
"Inside of a year. We're within three hundred million miles of the
watery nebula now, and you know that the earth travels more than that
distance in twelve months."
"Have you seen it?"
"How could I see it--haven't I told you it is invisible? If it could be seen
all these stupid astronomers would have spotted it long ago. But I'll tell
you what I have seen."
Cosmo Versál's voice sank into a whisper, and he shuddered slightly as
he went on:
"Only last night I was sweeping the sky with the telescope when I
noticed, in Hercules and Lyra, and all that part of the heavens, a
dimming of some of the fainter stars. It was like the shadow of the
shroud of a ghost. Nobody else would have noticed it, and I wouldn't if
I had not been looking for it. It's knowledge that clarifies the eyes and
breeds knowledge, Joseph Smith. It was not truly visible, and yet I
could see that it was there. I tried to make out the shape of the
thing--but it was too indefinite. But I know very well what it is. See
here"--he suddenly broke off--"Look at that photograph." (He was
pointing at the Lord Rosse Nebula on the wall). "It's like that, only it's
coming edgewise toward us. We may miss some of the outer spirals,
but we're going smash into the center."

With fallen jaw, and black brows contracted, Joseph Smith stared at the
photograph.
"It doesn't shine like that," he said at last.
The little man snorted contemptuously.
"What have I told you about its invisibility?" he demanded.
"But how, then, do you know that it is of a watery nature?"
Cosmo Versál threw up his hands and waved them in an agony of
impatience. He climbed upon his stool to get nearer the level of the
other's eyes, and fixing him with his gaze, exclaimed:
"You know very well how I know it. I know it because I have
demonstrated with my new spectroscope, which analyzes extra-visual
rays, that all those dark nebulae that were photographed in the Milky
Way years ago are composed of watery vapor. They are far off, on the
limits of the universe. This one is one right at hand. It's a little one
compared with them--but it's enough, yes, it's enough! You know that
more than two years ago I began to correspond with astronomers all
over the world about this thing, and not one of them would listen to me.
Well, they'll listen when it's too late perhaps.
"They'll listen when the flood-gates are opened and the inundation
begins. It's not the first time that this thing has happened. I haven't a
doubt that the flood of Noah, that everybody pretends to laugh at now,
was caused by the earth passing through a watery nebula. But this will
be worse than that; there weren't two thousand million people to be
drowned then."
For five minutes neither spoke. Cosmo Versál swung on the stool, and
played with an ellipsograph; Joseph Smith dropped his chin on his
breast and nervously fingered the pockets of his long vest. At last he
raised his head and asked, in a low voice:
"What are you going to do, Cosmo?"

"I'm going to get ready," was the short reply.
"How?"
"Build an ark."
"But will you give no warning to others?"
"I'll do my best. I'll telephone to all the officials, scientific and
otherwise, in America, Europe, Africa, Asia, and Australia. I'll write in
every language to all the newspapers and magazines. I'll send out
circulars. I'll counsel everybody to drop every other occupation and
begin to build arks--but nobody will heed me. You'll see. My ark will
be the only one, but I'll save as many in it as I can. And I depend upon
you, Joseph, to help me. From all appearances, it's the only chance that
the human race has of survival.
"If I hadn't made this discovery they would all have been wiped out like
miners in a flooded pit. We may persuade a few to be saved--but what
an awful thing it is that when the truth is thrust into their very faces
people won't believe, won't listen, won't see, won't be helped, but will
die like dogs in their obstinate ignorance and blindness."
"But they will, they must, listen to you," said Joseph Smith eagerly.
"They won't, but I must make them," replied Cosmo