"Rubbish!" said the Devil. "That isn't the reason you want him. You want him because of the paternal instinct he displays. It flatters you!"
"Well," said God, "why not? The paternal instinct is another name for the great creative force of the universe. I have been known by many names in many countries... they called me Osiris, the All-Father, in Egypt, and they called me Jehovah in Palestine, and they called me Zeus and Brahm... but always they recognized me as the Father. And this instinct for fatherliness appeals to me. Old Man Murtrie shall come to Heaven."
"Such a pair as you two," said Death, gloomily, "I never did see! Discuss and discuss, but never get anywhere! And all the time Old Man Murtrie goes on living."
"Why not settle this matter once and for all, right now? Why not wake Old Man Murtrie up and let him decide?"
"Yes,--whether he wants to go to Hell or to Heaven."
"I imagine," said God, "that if we do that there can be no question as to which place he would rather go to."
"Oh, I don't know," said the Devil. "Some people come to Hell quite willingly. I've been to Heaven myself, you know, and I can quite understand why. Are you afraid to have Old Man Murtrie make the choice?"
"Wake him up, Death, wake him up," said God. "It's unusual to allow people to know that they are making their own decision--though all of them, in a sense, do make it--but wake him up, Death, and we'll see."
So Death prodded Old Man Murtrie in the ribs, and they asked him. For a long time he thought it was only opium, but when he finally understood that it was really God and Death and the Devil who were there, and that it was really they who had often been there before, he was very much frightened. He was so frightened he couldn't choose.
"I'll leave it to you, I'll leave it to you," said Old Man Murtrie. "Who am I that I should set myself up to decide?"
"Well," said God, getting a little angry, perhaps, "if you don't want to go to Heaven, Murtrie, you don't have to. But you've been, praying to go to Heaven, and all that sort of thing, for seventy or eighty years, and I naturally thought you were in earnest. But I'm through with you... you can go to Hell."
"No," said the Devil, "I've changed my mind, too. My distaste for Murtrie has returned to me. I don't want him around. I won't have him in Hell."