George flung himself on the sands and wept and swore he would call the boy Judas, because he had betrayed him. However, Siebenhaar protested, saying that, as the boy could not be christened, it was not right to give him a Biblical name. He said that he personally should call him Ultimus as he bade fair to be the last of his line, unless, as had happened before, the island should insist on its population being continued. For that was how, after much cogitation, the philosopher had come to explain the previous strange adventure. George was indifferent, but from hearing Siebenhaar call the boy Ultimus he also adopted the name, not knowing its sad significance. Bearing deeply imprinted in his soul the marks of his unhappy contact with the world, George forbade all mention of it in his son’s presence. Never was he to know of the hateful race who inhabited Fatland, and of the indomitable Fatters whose admiral had so shamefully treated his mother. However, Siebenhaar used to talk in his sleep, and he often slept in the middle of the day. When he was six years old little Ultimus came to his father and said:
“What is God? What is an engine? Is the world round? What is a mother? Who is Siebenhaar’s father? What is a professor? Why does Siebenhaar talk in two ways? If you helped me to be born why can’t I help some one else? Is a Bishop a kind of man? Did I kill my mother, and how did I do it if I never saw her? Is this your island? What is an island? Are there other sorts of land? Are the stars land? Is the moon land? Is the sun land? If you are my father, why isn’t Siebenhaar some one’s father? Are all big men fathers? How do they do it? There are two kinds of goats, why aren’t there two kinds of men? If there are she-goats, why aren’t there she-men? What is a ship? Siebenhaar is always talking about ships. What is money? Are you a King? There is a King in Fatland. When is a father grand?...”
George gave one despairing look at his son. He groaned:
“Arabella, my love, my love.”
Then he walked out into the sea and disappeared. A few hours later his body was washed up on the shore, and Siebenhaar had to explain to the boy that his father was dead. Ultimus said:
“He walked out into the sea.”
“To such peace,” replied Siebenhaar solemnly, “do we all come.”
II: QUESTIONS
If the boy’s questions were fatal to his father they were a delight to Siebenhaar, who had no further scruple about giving instruction, for, in the hardship and solitude which had been his fate since his encounter with George, his philosophy had matured and he saw that the remaining years of his life might be spent in the instruction and preparation of a disciple.
They would sit for hours together on the sands drawing maps and diagrams for illustration. Siebenhaar had no knowledge which he did not communicate to Ultimus, who by the time he was seventeen was a master of mathematics, German philosophy, the rudiments of physics, chemistry, geology, physiology, biology, psychology, botany, meteorology, astronomy. They made wind and stringed instruments and played duets composed of what Siebenhaar could remember of Beethoven. The boy was a good sculptor and painter, a carpenter, a cabinet-maker, a mason, a cook, an engineer, a weaver, a tailor, a cobbler. He could read and write five languages, was familiar with the geography of the whole world, and knew the situations of the best brothels in all the first-class ports. When he began to have needs which there was no means of satisfying, Siebenhaar explained them to him: