"Yes, he is here," answered Kuzenda in the voice of an angel. "Come right up, brethren of the police. I know that the innkeeper of Stechovice has laid information against me."
Two policemen mounted to the deck. "Which of you is Kuzenda?" asked the sergeant.
"I am, sir," said Kuzenda, rising higher in the air. "Kindly come up here to me, sergeant." And forthwith both police officers rose into the air and floated upwards towards Kuzenda. Their feet groped desperately for some support, their hands clutched wildly at the yielding air, and one could hear their quick and frightened breathing.
"Don't be afraid, officers," said Kuzenda beatifically, "and say after me this prayer: O God, our Father, who are incarnate in this vessel . . ."
"O God, our Father, who are incarnate in this vessel," repeated the sergeant in choking voice.
"O God, our Father, who are incarnate in this vessel," Mr. Hudec began in a loud voice, and he fell on his knees, and on the deck a chorus of voices mingled with his own.
