The Prophet of Berkeley Square Part 50

"This is a trap!" he stammered. "This is a rat-trap. This was planned."

"Really"--began the Prophet.

But Mr. Sagittarius did not heed the exclamation. Trembling very violently, he continued,--

"Sophy, my darling, you are in danger. Let us fly!"

And, clutching his wife by the arm, to the Prophet's unspeakable delight he endeavoured to lead, or rather to drag her to the door. But Madame now showed the metal she was made of.

"Jupiter," she exclaimed, in her deepest note, "if you are a Prophet you can surely at moments be also a man. Where is your _toga virilibus_?"

"I don't know, my love, I'm sure. Don't let us lose a moment. Come, my angel!"

"I shall not come," retorted Madame, whose leaping ambition had been fired by the sound of t.i.tled names. "The gentleman believes you to be an American syndicate."

"I know, my blessing, I know. But--"

"Very well. If you don't behave like one he will never suspect you."

The Prophet saw his chance slipping from him and hastened to interpose.

"He might divine the truth," he said. "One can never--"

But at this moment he was interrupted by Mr. Ferdinand who abruptly opened the door and observed,--

"If you please, sir, Mrs. Merillia has sent down orders that the police are to be fetched at once."

Mr. Sagittarius, now thoroughly unnerved, turned from white to grey.

"The police!" he vociferated. "Sophy, my angel, let us fly. This is no place for you!"

"The police!" cried the Prophet. "Why?"

"I believe it's Mrs. Fancy's doing, sir. If you would go to Mrs.

Merillia, sir, I think--"

The Prophet rushed from the room and hastened upstairs four steps at a time. He found his beloved grandmother in a state of grave agitation, and Mrs. Fancy, in floods of tears, reiterating her statement that there were robbers in the house.

"Oh, Hennessey!" cried Mrs. Merillia, on his entrance, "thank G.o.d that you are come. There are burglars in the house. Fancy has just encountered them in the hall. Go for the police, my dearest boy. Don't lose a moment."

"My dear grannie, they're not burglars."

"I can't speak different, Master Hennessey, nor--"

"Then who are they, Hennessey? Fancy declares--"

"They are two--two--well, two old and valued friends of mine."

"Old and valued friends of ours!"

"Of mine, grannie. Fancy, pray don't make such a noise!"

"Fancy," said Mrs. Merillia, "you can go to your room and lie down."

"Yes, ma'am. I say again, as I said afore, the house has been broke into and the robbers--"

At this point the Prophet shut the door on the faithful and persistent creature, who forthwith carried her determination and sobs to an upper storey.

"Hennessey, what is all this? Who is really here?"

"Grannie, dear, only two friends of mine," replied the Prophet, trying to look at ease, and feeling like a criminal.

"Friends of yours? But surely then I know them. I thought I knew all your friends."

"So you do, grannie, all except--except just these."

"And they are old and valued, you say?"

"No, no--that is, I mean yes."

Mrs. Merillia was too dignified to ask any further questions. She lay back on her sofa, and looked at her grandson with a s.h.i.+ning of mild reproach in her green eyes.

"Well, my dear," she said, "go back to your friends, but don't forget that Lady Julia and Sir Tiglath are dining here at half-past seven."

"Grannie," cried the Prophet, with a desperate feeling that Madame meant to stay, "you ought not to dine downstairs to-night. Let me send and put them off."

"No, Hennessey," she answered, with gentle decision. "I feel better, and I want cheering up. My morning was not altogether pleasant."

The Prophet understood that she was alluding to his questions, and felt cut to the heart. His home seemed crumbling about him, but he knew not what to do or what to say. Mrs. Merillia observed his agitation, but she did not choose to remark upon it, for she considered curiosity the most vulgar of all the vices.

"Go to your friends, dear," she said again. "But be in time for dinner."

"Yes, grannie."

The Prophet descended the stairs and met Mr. Ferdinand at the bottom.

"Am I to send for the police, sir?"

"No, no. I've explained matters."

"And about dinner, sir?"

"I'll tell you in a moment, Mr. Ferdinand," replied the Prophet, entering the library with the fixed intention of getting Madame and Mr.

Sagittarius out of the house without further delay.

The tableau that met his eyes, however, was not rea.s.suring. He found Madame, having laid aside her bonnet, and thrown the rabbit-skin cloak carelessly upon a settee, arranging her hair before a mirror, and shaking up the coffee-coloured lace fichu in a manner that suggested a permanent occupation of the house, while her husband, sunk in a deep armchair in an att.i.tude of complete nervous prostration, was gazing dejectedly into the fire. When the Prophet entered, the latter bounded with alarm, while Madame turned round, a couple of hairpins in her mouth and both hands to the back of her head.

"Ah," she remarked, through the pins, "_il a vous_! I am happy to say that I have induced Mr. Sagittarius to a.s.sume his _toga virilibus_, and that we have, therefore, great pleasure in yielding to your thoughtful pressure--"