The Prophet of Berkeley Square - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel The Prophet of Berkeley Square Part 27 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
The worthy couple, by mistake, no doubt, were proceeding towards the grand staircase, having missed the way to the hall door, and as the Prophet, following them up with almost unimaginable activity, drew near enough to drum the right direction into their backs, Lady Enid became visible on the landing above. Mr. Sagittarius perceived her.
"Why, it's Miss Minerv--" he began.
"This way, this way!" cried the Prophet, wheeling them round and driving them, but always like a thorough gentleman, towards the square.
"Then she leads a double life, too!" said Mr. Sagittarius, solemnly, fixing his strained eyes upon the Prophet.
"She? Who?" said Madame, sharply.
She had not seen Lady Enid.
"All of us, my love, all of us," returned her husband, as the Prophet succeeded in shepherding them on to the pavement.
"Good-bye," he cried.
With almost inconceivable rapidity he shut the door. As he did so two vague echoes seemed to faint on his ear. One was male, a dreamlike--"First post, Thursday!" The other was female, a fairylike--"_Jactum alea sunt_."
CHAPTER IX
THE PROPHET BEGINS TO CARRY OUT HIS DIRECTIONS
"Mr. Ferdinand," said the Prophet the same evening, after he had dressed for dinner, "what has become of the telescope?"
He spoke in a low voice, not unlike that of a confirmed conspirator, and glanced rather furtively around him, as if afraid of being overheard.
"I have removed it, sir, according to your orders," replied Mr.
Ferdinand, also displaying some uneasiness.
"Yes, yes. Where have you placed it?"
"Well, sir, I understood you to say I might throw it in Piccadilly, if I so wished."
The Prophet suddenly displayed relief.
"I see. You have done so."
"Well, no, sir."
The Prophet's face fell.
"Then where is it?"
"Well, sir, for the moment I have set it in the butler's pantry."
"Indeed!"
"I thought it might be of use there, sir," continued Mr. Ferdinand, in some confusion, which, however, was not noticed by the Prophet. "Of great use to--to Gustavus and me in--in our duties, sir."
"Quite so, quite so," returned the Prophet, abstractedly.
"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."