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Me, the godson of a bishop!" "I also am godson of a bishop!" sneered Kasheed. "A properly anointed bishop! Without Tartar blood." Sardi Babu grew purple. "Ptha! I would spit upon the beard of such a bishop!" he shrieked, beside himself. Hassoun slightly raised his eyebrows. "Spit, then, infamous one while thou art able!" "Here, here!" growled Burke in disgust. "Keep 'em still, can't you?
"I do not know, sir. But I suspect that my quest is ended, and that you are Koshchei the Deathless." The black gentleman nodded. "Something of the sort. Koshchei, or Ardnari, or Ptha, or Jaldalaoth, or Abraxas, it is all one what I may be called hereabouts. My real name you never heard: no man has ever heard my name. So that matter we need hardly go into." "Precisely, Prince.
"Well, but I have seen my notion embodied, seen it take breath, seen it depart from Morven in all respects, except for a little limping which, do you know, I thought rather graceful? in well-nigh all respects, I repeat, quite indistinguishable from the embodied notions of that master craftsman whom some call Ptha, and others Jahveh, and others Abraxas, and yet others Koshchei the Deathless.
The difference between them and us is that their gods are mortal, while Israel's God lives. Where is Zeus, the god of the Greeks? Where is the Romans' Jupiter? Where are the Egyptians' Isis, Osiris, and Ptha? Where is the Woutan of the Germans, the Teutates of the Gauls? They are all dead, but Israel's God lives; He cannot die.
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