Part 25 (1/2)

”Nine would be too early, my dear,” said Mr. Sagittarius. ”Eleven p.m.

would be more to the purpose.”

”Eleven let it be then, punctually. Will you dot down, Mr. Vivian, that you have to be at the telescope to take observations at eleven p.m.

every night from now till the twentieth.”

”But I have had the telesc--”

”Kindly dot it down.”

The Prophet dotted it down with the wrong end of the pencil on the wrong side of the account-book.

”And what are his hours to be exactly, Jupiter?” continued Madame. ”From eleven till dawn, I suppose?”

The Prophet shuddered.

”Eleven till three will be sufficient, my love. The crab, you know, has pretty well done his London work by that time. And the old lady will have to depend very much on the crab for these few nights.”

At this point the Prophet's brain began to swim. Sparks seemed to float before his eyes, and amid these sparks, nebulous and fragmentary visions appeared, visions of his beloved grandmother companioned by scorpions and serpents, in close touch with camelopards and bovine monsters, and, in the last stress of terror and dismay, left entirely dependent upon crustaceans for that help and comfort which hitherto her devoted grandson had ever been thankful to afford.

”Oh, very well,” replied Madame. ”You will be able to get to bed at three, Mr. Vivian. Dot that down.”

”Thank you,” murmured the Prophet, making a minute pencil scratch in the midst of a bill for butcher's meat.

”During these hours--but you can tell him the rest, Jupiter.”

So saying, and with an air of one retiring from business upon a well-earned competence, Madame Sagittarius lay back in her chair, settled her bonnet-strings, flicked a crumb from the football of violets that decorated her left side, and, extending her kid boots towards the cheerful blaze that came from the fire, fell with a sigh into a comfortable meditation. Mr. Sagittarius, on the other hand, a.s.sumed a look of rather hectoring authority, and was about to utter what the Prophet had very little doubt was a command when there came a gentle tap to the door.

”Come in,” said the Prophet.

He thought he had spoken in his ordinary voice. In reality he had merely uttered a very small whisper. The tap was repeated.

”Louder, sir, louder!” said Mr. Sagittarius, encouragingly.

”Come in!” shrieked the Prophet.

Mr. Ferdinand appeared, looking more like the elderly spinster lady when confronted with the corporal in the Life Guards than ever.

”If you please, sir, I was to tell you that Lady Enid Thistle is with Mrs. Merillia taking tea. Mrs. Merillia thought you would wish to know.”

Madame Sagittarius took the kid boots from the blaze on hearing this aristocratic name. Mr. Sagittarius a.s.sumed a look of reverence, and the Prophet realised, more acutely than ever, that even well-born young women can be inquisitive.

”Very well,” he said. ”Say I'll--I'll”--he succeeded in making his voice sound absolutely firm--”I'll come in a moment.”

”Yes, sir.”

Mr. Ferdinand cast a glance of respectful, but unlimited, horror upon the Prophet's guests and retired, while the Prophet, calling upon all his manhood, turned to Mr. Sagittarius.

”I regret more than I can say that I shall be obliged now to obey my grandmother's summons,” he said courteously. ”Suppose we defer this--this pleasant little discussion to some future oc--”