The old man pointed to a shelf.

“There,” he said.

* * * * *

Percy looked at the sheets a minute or two in silence, spreading them on his knees.

“It is all much simpler, certainly,” he murmured, glancing first at the old complicated colouring of the beginning of the twentieth century, and then at the three great washes of the twenty-first.

He moved his finger along Asia.  The words eastern Empire ran across the pale yellow, from the Ural Mountains on the left to the Behring Straits on the right, curling round in giant letters through India, Australia, and New Zealand.  He glanced at the red; it was considerably smaller, but still important enough, considering that it covered not only Europe proper, but all Russia up to the Ural Mountains, and Africa to the south.  The blue-labelled American republic swept over the whole of that continent, and disappeared right round to the left of the Western Hemisphere in a shower of blue sparks on the white sea.

“Yes, it’s simpler,” said the old man drily.

Percy shut the book and set it by his chair.

“And what next, sir?  What will happen?”

The old Tory statesman smiled.

“God knows,” he said.  “If the Eastern Empire chooses to move, we can do nothing.  I don’t know why they have not moved.  I suppose it is because of religious differences.”

“Europe will not split?” asked the priest.

“No, no.  We know our danger now.  And America would certainly help us. 
But, all the same, God help us—­or you, I should rather say—­if the
Empire does move!  She knows her strength at last.”

There was silence for a moment or two.  A faint vibration trembled through the deep-sunk room as some huge machine went past on the broad boulevard overhead.

“Prophesy, sir,” said Percy suddenly.  “I mean about religion.”

Mr. Templeton inhaled another long breath from his instrument.  Then again he took up his discourse.

“Briefly,” he said, “there are three forces—­Catholicism, Humanitarianism, and the Eastern religions.  About the third I cannot prophesy, though I think the Sufis will be victorious.  Anything may happen; Esotericism is making enormous strides—­and that means Pantheism; and the blending of the Chinese and Japanese dynasties throws out all our calculations.  But in Europe and America, there is no doubt that the struggle lies between the other two.  We can neglect everything else.  And, I think, if you wish me to say what I think, that, humanly speaking, Catholicism will decrease rapidly now.  It is perfectly true that Protestantism is dead.  Men do recognise at last that a supernatural Religion involves an absolute authority, and that Private Judgment in matters of faith is nothing else than the beginning of disintegration.  And it is also true that since the Catholic Church is the only institution that even claims supernatural authority, with all its