Part 27 (2/2)

”Did you wish it to be taken to the drawing-room again, sir?”

The Prophet started.

”Certainly not,” he said. ”On no account. As you very rightly say--a butler's pantry is the place for a telescope. It can be of great service there.”

His fervour surprised Mr. Ferdinand, who began to wonder whether, by any chance, his master knew of the Lord Chancellor's agreeable-looking second-cook. After pausing a moment respectfully, Mr. Ferdinand was about to decamp when the Prophet checked him with a gesture.

”One moment, Mr. Ferdinand!”

”Sir?”

”One moment!”

Mr. Ferdinand stood still. The Prophet cleared his throat, arranged his tie, and then said, with an air of very elaborate nonchalance,--

”At what time do you generally go to bed, Mr. Ferdinand, when you don't sit up?”

”Sometimes at one time, sir, and sometimes at another.”

”That's rather ambiguous.”

”I beg pardon, sir.”

”What is your usual hour for being quite--that is, entirely in bed.”

”Entirely in bed, sir?”

Mr. Ferdinand's fine ba.s.s voice vibrated with surprise.

”Yes. Not partially in bed, but really and truly in bed?”

”Well, sir,” returned Mr. Ferdinand, with decided dignity, ”when I am in bed, sir, I am.”

”And when's that?”

”By twelve, sir.”

”I thought as much,” cried the Prophet, with slightly theatrical solicitude. ”You sit up too late, Mr. Ferdinand.”

”I hope, sir, that I--”

”That's what makes you so pale, Mr. Ferdinand, and delicate.”

”Delicate, sir!” cried Mr. Ferdinand, who had in fact been hopelessly robust from the cradle, totally incapable of acquiring even the most universal complaints, and, moreover, miraculously exempt from that well-recognised affliction of the members of his profession so widely known as ”butler's feet.”

”Yes,” said the Prophet, emphatically. ”You should be in bed, thoroughly in bed, by a quarter to eleven. And Gustavus too! He is young, and the young can't be too careful. Begin to-night, Mr. Ferdinand. I speak for your health's sake, believe me.”

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