The Prophet of Berkeley Square Part 55

"Certainly, sir, certainly!" said Mr. Sagittarius, with all the alacrity of supreme cowardice, and casting a terror-stricken glance towards Sir Tiglath, who was glowering at him with gla.s.sy eyes above a gla.s.s of port. "Mrs. Bridgeman will be expecting us!"

"I will a.s.sume my cloak," said Madame, fiercely. "Jupiter!"

"My darling!"

"Kindly seek my furs."

"Certainly, my love," replied Mr. Sagittarius, darting eagerly from the apartment to fetch the rabbit-skins.

"Lady Julia, I hope you will forgive us," said the Prophet, with pa.s.sionate contrition. "If I had had the slightest idea that we should have the pleasure of seeing you to-night, of course I should have given up this engagement. But it is such an old one--settled months ago--and I have promised Mrs. Bridgeman so faithfully that--"

"The old astronomer will go with you," cried Sir Tiglath at this moment, swallowing his gla.s.s of port at a gulp, and rolling out of his chair.

The Prophet turned cold, thinking of Miss Minerva, who would be present at Mrs. Bridgeman's living her secret double life. It was imperative to prevent the astronomer from accompanying them.

"I did not think you knew Mrs. Bridgeman, Sir Tiglath," the Prophet began, while Mrs. Merillia and Lady Julia stood blankly near the door, trying to look calm and dignified while everyone was ardently preparing to desert them.

"The old astronomer must know her before the evening is one hour more advanced. He must question her regarding the holy stars. He must examine her and this Sagittarius, who claims to be an outside broker and yet to have discovered oxygen in the fixed inhabitants of the sacred heavens.

My cloak!"

The last words were bellowed at Gustavus, who rushed forward with Sir Tiglath's Inverness.

The Prophet lowed his head, and metaphorically, threw up the sponge.

"Lady Julia," said Mrs. Merillia, in a soft voice that slightly trembled, "let us go upstairs."

The two old ladies bowed with tearful dignity, and retired with a sort of gentle majesty that cut the Prophet to the heart.

"One moment, if you please!" he said to his guests.

And he darted out of the room and leaped up the stairs. He found Mrs.

Merillia and Lady Julia just about to dispose themselves side by side upon a sofa near the fire. They turned and looked at him with reproachful doves' eyes.

"Grannie--Lady Julia!" he exclaimed, "I implore your forgiveness. Pardon me! Appearances are against me, I know. But some day you may understand how I am placed. My position is--my--my situation--I--you--do not wholly condemn me! Wait--wait a few days, I implore you!"

He rushed out of the room.

The two old ladies seated themselves upon the sofa, and tremblingly spread abroad their damask skirts. They looked at each other in silence, shaking their elegant heads. Then Mrs. Merillia said, in a fluttering voice,--

"Oh, Julia, you were a lady in waiting to Her Majesty, you were kissed by the great Duke--tell me--tell me what it all means!"

"Victoria," replied Lady Julia, "it means that your grandson has fallen into the clutches of a dangerous and determined ratcatcher."

And then the two old ladies mingled their damask skirts and their lace caps and wept.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE SILLY LIFE

"Call a cab for Sir Tiglath, Mr. Ferdinand," whispered the Prophet--"a four-wheeler with a lame horse. I'll take both Mr. and Madame Sagittarius in the brougham."

"Must the horse be lame, sir?"

"Yes. I absolutely decline to encourage the practice of using good horses in four-wheeled cabs. It's a disgrace to the poor animals. It must be a very lame horse."

"Yes, sir."

And Mr. Ferdinand, standing upon the doorstep, whistled to the night.

Strange to say, in about two minutes there appeared round the corner the very same cabman who had conveyed the Prophet and Lady Enid to the astronomer's on the previous day, driving the very same horse.

"This horse will do admirably," said the Prophet to Mr. Ferdinand.

"He isn't lame, sir."

"P'r'aps not; but he knows how to tumble down. Sir Tiglath, here is a cab for you. We shall go in the brougham. Zoological House, Regent's Park, is the direction. Let me help you in, Madame."

As the Prophet got in to sit bodkin between his old and valued friends, he whispered to the footman,--

"Tell Simkins to drive as fast as possible. We are very late."

The footman touched his hat. Just as the carriage moved off, the Prophet protruded his head from the window, and saw the astronomer rolling into the four-wheeler, the horse of which immediately fell down in a most satisfactory manner.

There was no general conversation in the brougham, but the Prophet, who was obliged to sit partly on Madame, and partly on Mr. Sagittarius and partly on air, occasionally heard in the darkness at his back terrible matrimonial whisperings, whose exact tenor he was unable to catch. Once only he heard Madame say sibilantly and with a vicious click,--

"I might have known what to expect when I married a Prophet--when I pa.s.sed over the _pons asinoribus_ to give myself to a _monstram horrendo_."

To this pathetic heart-cry Mr. Sagittarius made a very prolonged answer. The Prophet knew it was prolonged because Mr. Sagittarius always whispered in such a manner as to tickle the nape of his neck. But he could not hear anything except a sound like steam escaping from a small pipe. The steam went on escaping until the brougham pa.s.sed through a gate, rolled down a declivity, and drew up before an enormous mansion whose windows blazed with light.

"Is this the Zoological Gardens?" inquired Madame in a stern voice. "Is this the habitation of the woman Bridgeman?"

"I suppose this is Zoological House," replied the Prophet, sliding decorously off Madame's left knee in preparation for descent.

"My darling! my love!" said Mr. Sagittarius. "I swear upon the infant head of our Capricornus that Mrs. Bridgeman and I are--"

"Enough!" cried Madame. "_Jam satus_! Be sure that I will inquire into this matter."

The carriage door was opened and, with some struggling, the Prophet and his two valued friends emerged and speedily found themselves in a very large hall, which was nearly full of very large powdered footmen. In the distance there was the sound of united frivolities, a band of twenty guitars thrumming a wilful _seguidilla_. Roses bloomed on every side, and beyond the hall they beheld a vision of illuminated vistas, down which vague figures came and went.

Evidently when Mrs. Bridgeman let herself go she let herself go thoroughly.

Mr. Sagittarius gazed about him with awe-struck amazement, but Madame was equal to the occasion. She cast the rabbit-skins imperially to a neighbouring flunkey, arranged her hair and fichu before a gla.s.s, kicked out her skirt with the heel of one of the kid boots, nipped the green chiffon into prominence with decisive fingers, and then, turning to the Prophet with all the majesty of a suburban empress, said in a powerful voice,--

"Step forward, I beg. _J'ai pret_."

The Prophet, thus encouraged, stepped forward towards an aperture that on ordinary days contained a door, but that now contained a stout elderly lady, with henna-dyed hair, a powdered face, black eyebrows and a yellow gown, on which rested a large number of jewelled ornaments that looked like small bombs. At this lady's elbow stood a footman with an exceedingly powerful ba.s.s voice, who shouted the names of approaching guests in a manner so uncompromising as to be terrific. Each time he so shouted the stout lady first started and then smiled, the two operations succeeding one another with almost inconceivable rapidity and violence.