I want to welcome everyone back to part two of my reading of Camp of the Saints.

We got through the first four chapters in episode one and jump on into episode 2 right now.

Chapter 5.

If any logic at all can be found in the way

a popular myth gets its start,

then we have to go back to Calcutta

to the Consulate General of Belgium to look for the beginnings of the one we can call for the moment the myth of the newfound paradise.

A shabby little consulate set up in an old colonial villa on the edge of the diplomatic quarter waking one morning to find a silent throng milling around outside its door.

At daybreak, the seat guard had chained the front gate shut. From time to time he would point the

barrel of his antique rifle between the bars to urge back the ones who had pushed their way

up front. But since he was a decent sort and since there was really no threat to himself or the gate he was

guarding, he would tell them now and again, nicely as he could, look, maybe in a little way, maybe in a little while you can have some rice, but then you'll have to go.

It's no use standing around.

See the announcement?

It's signed by the Cons console himself.

What does it say?

The crowd would yell, since none of them could read.

Tell us, read it out loud.

As a matter of fact, it was hard to make out much of anything now

on the notice posted on the gate, smudged as it was with the

prince of a thousand hands that had pawed over it, never quite believing the bad news

it proclaimed.

...