Hedvig looked as red as fire.
The pastor and the other guests looked at each other, while I gazed fixedly at the young theologian, who was reflecting. M. d’Harcourt said that we should have to send for Voltaire to settle a question so difficult, but as Hedvig had collected her thoughts and seemed ready to speak everybody was silent.
“It would be absurd,” said she, “to suppose that a deity could perform such an action without its having any results. At the end of nine months a woman would be delivered a male child, which would be three parts man and one part god.”
At these words all the guests applauded, M. de Ximenes expressed his admiration of the way the question had been solved, adding,—
“Naturally, if the son of the woman married, his children would be seven-eighths men and one-eighth gods.”
“Yes,” said I, “unless he married a goddess, which would have made the proportion different.”
“Tell me exactly,” said Hedvig, “what proportion of divinity there would be in a child of the sixteenth generation.”
“Give me a pencil and I will soon tell you,” said M. de Ximenes.
“There is no need to calculate it,” said I; “the child would have some small share of the wit which you enjoy.”
Everybody applauded this gallant speech, which did not by any means offend the lady to whom it was addressed.