The Prophet of Berkeley Square Part 67

Gustavus stopped. The bell rang again.

"Gustavus," said the Prophet, "if that is a visitor I am not at home.

Mrs. Merillia is not at home either."

It was by this time between one and two in the morning.

"Not at home, sir. Yes, sir."

The Prophet concealed himself near the hat-rack, and Gustavus went softly to the door and opened it.

"Not at home, ma'am," the Prophet heard him say, formally.

"What d'you mean, young man?" replied the powerful voice of Madame.

"Where is my husband?"

"Ma'am?"

"Where, I say, is my husband?"

"I couldn't say, I'm sure, ma'am. But Mrs. Merillia and Mr. Vivian are not at home."

"Then all I can say is they ought to be in at this time of night. Permit me to pa.s.s. Are you aware that Mr. Vivian has invited me to spend the night here? _Noctes ambrosianes_."

"But, ma'am, Mr. Viv--"

"That'll do. If I have any more of your impertinence I'll make you repent of it. You are evidently not aware who I am."

The Prophet, by the hat-rack, did not fail to hear a new note in the deep contralto of Madame, a note of triumph, a trumpet note of profound conceit. His heart sank before this determined music, and it sank even lower towards his pumps when, a moment later, he found himself confronted by the lady, wrapped closely in the rabbit-skins, and absolutely bulging with vanity and self-appreciation.

"What! Mr. Vivian!" began the lady.

"Hus.h.!.+" said the Prophet, "for mercy's sake--hus.h.!.+"

And, acting upon the impulse of the moment, he suddenly seized Madame by the hand, and hurried her through the swinging door into the servants'

hall.

"Here's a go," murmured Gustavus in the greatest trepidation. "If they don't find the thin party I'm a josser."

Meanwhile the Prophet and Madame were standing face to face before the what-not of Gustavus.

"My grandmother is awake--that is asleep," said the Prophet. "We must not wake her on any account."

"Oh," returned Madame, with a toss of her head, "your grandmother seems to be a very fidgety old lady, I'm sure--although you do tell a parcel of lies about her."

"Lies!" said the Prophet, with some dignity.

"Yes--lies. She don't wear long clothes--"

"I beg your pardon!"

"She do not. She don't wear her hair down. She don't put her lips to the bottle. She don't. Where is Mr. Sagi--where is Malkiel the Second?"

"I have no idea. And now, Madame, I regret that I must conduct you to your carriage. The hour is late, my grandmother is seriously indisposed, and I myself need rest."

"Well, then, you can't have it," retorted the lady with authoritative spitefulness. "You can't have it, not till three o'clock."

"I beg your pardon!" said the Prophet, with trembling lips.

"What for?"

"I really regret that I must retire. Allow me--"

"I'll not allow you. Where is my husband? He's not at the Zoological Gardens."

"He has probably returned home."

"To the Mouse! Then he's a coward and an oath-breaker, and if Sir Tiglath was to catch him I shouldn't be sorry. Kindly lead me at once to the telescope. I will take his place. No one shall say that Madame Malkiel ever flinched at duty's call. _Praesto et persistibus_. Conduct me at once to the telescope."

"The telescope!" cried the Prophet. "What for?"

"Lawks!" cried Madame, with p.r.o.nounced temper. "Did we not journey from the Mouse a-purpose to go practically into the mystery of the dressed Crab?"

"I really--I really cannot consent without a chaperon," began the Prophet.

"The wife of Malkiel the Second needs no chaperone," retorted Madame.

"This night has altered my condition--I stand from henceforth far beyond the reach of etiquette. The world knows me now and will not dare to carp. _Carpe dies_."

During the foregoing colloquy her voice had become louder and louder, and the Prophet, dreading unspeakably lest his grandmother should be disturbed and affrighted once more, gave up the struggle, and, without more ado, conducted Madame into the butler's pantry in which the telescope still remained.

Meanwhile what had become of Malkiel the Second?

When Mrs. Merillia suddenly appeared before him in her night-bonnet and accused him of being a ratcatcher he had very naturally fled, his first impulse being to leave the house at once and continue his journey to the docks. But even a prophet is but mortal. Malkiel had pa.s.sed through an eventful day followed by a still more eventful evening. His mind was completely exhausted. Even so, however, he might have continued upon his journey towards Java had not his legs prosaically shown signs of giving way under him just as he once more gained the hall. This decided him. He must have some short repose at whatever cost. He therefore pushed feebly at the nearest door, and found himself promptly in the apartment of the upper servants. Staggering to the what-not of Gustavus, he sank down upon it and fell into a melancholy reverie, from which he was roused by the constant tingling cry of Mrs. Merillia's second bell, which rang close to where he was reposing. He tried to start up, but failed, and it was only when the hall door bell, attacked by the Prophet, added its voice to its companion's that his terror lent him sufficient strength to flee very slowly into the inner fastnesses of this unknown region. There was a light in the servant's hall, but darkness lay beyond and Malkiel knew not whither he was penetrating. He barked his s.h.i.+ns, but could not tell against what hard substance. He bruised his elbow, but could not know what piece of furniture had a.s.sailed it. On coming in contact with a dresser he saw a few sparks, but they speedily died out, and he was obliged to feel his way onward, till presently he came across a large leather chair in which Mrs. Merillia's cook was wont to sit while directing her subordinates at the basting machine. Into this he sank palpitating, and for a moment remained undisturbed. Then, to his horror, he heard in the adjoining room the strident voice of his loved and honoured wife apparently carrying on a decidedly vivacious argument with some person unknown. He bounded up. Possibly she was accompanied by Sir Tiglath, who must now be aware of his ident.i.ty. In any case, her wrath at his scarcely chivalrous desertion of her in the house of a stranger would, he knew, be terrible. He dared not face it. He dared not allow his project of flight at dawn to be interfered with, as it certainly would be if he came across Madame. He therefore proceeded to flee once more. Nor did he pause until he had gained Mr. Ferdinand's pantry, where stood the telescope. Now, in this pantry there was a large cupboard in which were kept the very numerous and magnificent pieces of plate, etc., possessed by Mrs. Merillia; tall silver candelabra, standard lamps of polished bronze, richly-chased cups, gigantic vases for containing flowers, oriental incense holders upon stands of ebony, Spanish charcoal dishes of burnished bra.s.s, and other treasures far too numerous to mention. This cupboard was always carefully locked at night, but on this occasion Mr. Ferdinand, totally disorganised by the frightful scenes which had taken place at his dinner table during the evening, had retired to bed in a condition of collapse, leaving it open. Malkiel the Second, feeling frantically about in the dark, came upon the door of this cupboard, pulled it, found that it yielded to his hand, and, hearing the rapidly approaching voices of Madame and the Prophet, stumbled into the cupboard and sank down on a large gold loving-cup, with one foot in a silver soup tureen, and the other in a priceless sugar basin, just as the light of the candle borne by the Prophet glimmered in the darkness of the adjacent corridor.

"This way, Madame," said the Prophet. "But I really think such a proceeding is calculated to cause a grave scandal in the square."

Malkiel the Second drew the cupboard door to, and grasped a silver candelabrum in each hand to sustain himself upon the rather sharp rim of the loving-cup.

"What is the square to me or I to the square?" returned Madame with ungrammatical majesty. "Madame Malkiel is not governed by any ordinary laws. _Lexes non scripta_ is her motto. To these alone she clings."

Her husband clung to the candelabra and burst into a violent perspiration. Through the keyhole of the cupboard a ray of light now shone, and he heard the frou-frou of his partner's skirt, the flump of the rabbit-skins as she cast them from her ample shoulders upon the floor. The Prophet's voice became audible again.

"What do you wish me to do?" he said, with a sort of embittered courtesy.

"Throw open the window, place yourself before the telescope, and proceed at once to your investigations," replied the lady.

"I am not in a condition to investigate," said the Prophet. "I am not indeed. If you will only let me get you a cab, to-morrow night--"

"It is useless to talk, Mr. Vivian," said Madame, very sharply. "The cab has not yet been made that will convey me to the Mouse to-night."