“… And thus I gradually realized that the map of this region was not merely inaccurate, but that someone, for some reason, wanted either to misguide the traveler, or to guide him to an unsuspected place,” Tlön said feebly. He rearranged his arms carefully, and added: “Although I am still convinced that my hypothesis has been correct, the years I have searched for the clue have been in vain, as you can see.”

“No,” replied the old man coldly, “you have finally come to the place you have searched for, as it were. I am the author of the map.” He showed no sign of sympathy whatever. “Since there is no doubt that you will not live to see the morning, I can tell you now that the map is indeed wrong with a purpose. You have guessed correctly only one, and less important, aspect of this purpose, though. It is true that I wanted someone to make the hypothesis you actually made, but it is not true that there was something to either find or not find here.” He helped Tlön into a more comfortable position on the sofa, but he did not volunteer anything else.

Tlön finally uttered: “But why? Why did you decide to do something like this?” After an uncomfortable pause the old man said quietly and with indifference: “I wanted to prove that Einstein was wrong. I knew him since childhood… But, unfortunately, he is dead now.”

Seeing that the old man would refuse to say more than this, Tlön decided to abandon his inquiry. Very soon the old man left the overheated room and went to the yard in the back of the cottage to feed the geese. He could not hear Tlön whispering repeatedly toward the door: “… aber boshaft ist Er nicht!”