The Prophet of Berkeley Square Part 49

He and his companions spoke but little together as they journeyed.

Occasionally Madame and Mr. Sagittarius conversed in husky whispers, like brigands the Prophet thought, and the veiled click of Madame's contralto struck through the startled air. But mostly a silence prevailed--a silence alive with fate.

At the corner of Air Street they got out and began to walk down Piccadilly towards the Berkeley square. It was now evening. The lamps were lighted and the murmur of strolling crowds filled the gloomy air.

Madame stared feverishly about her, excited by the press, the flas.h.i.+ng hansoms and the gaily-illuminated shops. Once, as she pa.s.sed Benoist's, she murmured "_O festum dies_!" and again, by the Berkeley, when she was momentarily jostled by a very large and umbrageous tramp who had apparently been celebrating the joys of beggary--"_Acto profa.n.u.s vulgam_!" But generally she was silent, enwrapped, no doubt, in bookish thought. When, at length, they stood before the door of number one thousand she breathed a heavy sigh.

"Please," said the Prophet, in a trembling voice, "please enter quietly.

My grandmother is very unwell."

"Ankles seems to be a very painful complaint, sir," said Mr.

Sagittarius. "But Madame and self are not in the habit of creating uproar by our movements."

"No, no. Of course not. Still--on tiptoe if you don't mind."

"I cannot walk on tiptoe," said Madame, in a voice that sounded to the Prophet terrifically powerful. "The att.i.tude is precarious and undignified. As the great Juvenile--"

"Yes, yes. Ah! that's it!"

He managed to get his key into the door and very gingerly opened it.

Madame and Mr. Sagittarius stepped into the hall, followed closely by the Prophet, who was content on conveying them un.o.bserved to the library.

"This way," he whispered. "This way. Softly! Softly!"

He began to steal, like a shadow, across the hall, and, impressed by his surrept.i.tious manner, his old and valued friends instinctively followed his example. All three of them, then, with long steps and theatrical pauses, were stagily upon the move, when suddenly the door that led to the servants' quarters swung open and Mrs. Fancy Quinglet debouched into their midst, succeeded by Mr. Ferdinand, who carried in his hand a menu card in a silver holder. At the moment of their appearance the Prophet, holding his finger to his lips, was taking a soft and secret stride in the direction of the library door, his body bent forward and his head protruded towards the sanctum he longed to gain, and Madame and Mr.

Sagittarius, true to the instinct of imitation that dwells in our monkey race, were in precisely similar att.i.tudes behind him. The hall being rather dark, and the gait of the trio it contained thus tragically surrept.i.tious, it was perhaps not unnatural that Mrs. Fancy should give vent to a piercing cry of terror, and that Mr. Ferdinand should drop the menu and crouch back against the wall in a hunched position expressive of alarm. At any rate, such were their actions, while--for their part--the Prophet and his two old and valued friends uttered a united exclamation and struck three att.i.tudes that were pregnant with defensive amazement.

Having uttered herself, Mrs. Fancy, according to her invariable custom when completely terrified, displayed all the semblance of clear-sighted composure and explanatory discrimination. While Mr. Ferdinand remained by the wall, with his face to it and his large white hands spread out upon his shut eyes, the lady's maid advanced upon Madame, and, addressing herself apparently to some hidden universe in need of information, remarked in rather a piecing voice,--

"I say again, as I said afore, the house has been broke into and the robbers are upon us. I can't speak different nor mean other."

On hearing these words Madame's large and rippling countenance became suffused with indignant scarlet, and a preliminary click rang through the hall. The Prophet bounded forward.

"Hush, Fancy," he cried. "What are you saying?"

"What I mean, Master Hennessey. The house has been broke--"

"Hus.h.!.+ Hus.h.!.+ This lady and gentleman are--"

"Two old and valued friends--" boomed Madame.

"Two old and valued friends of mine. Mr. Ferdinand! Mr. Ferdinand, take your face from the wall, if you please. There is no cause for alarm.

Now, Fancy--now!"

For Mrs. Fancy had, as usual, broken into tears on learning the rea.s.suring truth, and was now displaying every symptom of distress and enervation. The Prophet, unable to calm her, was obliged to a.s.sist her upstairs and place her upon the landing, where he hurriedly left her uttering broken moans and murmurs, and repeating again and again her statement of affairs and a.s.sertion of inability to conceal the revealed obvious. On his return he found Madame, Mr. Sagittarius and Mr.

Ferdinand grouped statuesquely in the hall as if to represent "Perturbation."

"Mr. Ferdinand," he said rather severely, "I did not expect this conduct of you, shrinking from guests in this extraordinary manner. A butler who shows terror at the sight of visitors does not conduce to the popularity of his employers."

"I beg pardon, sir. I was not prepared."

"Please be prepared another time. You will serve dinner for three to-night, very quietly, in the inner dining-room. I do not wish Mrs.

Merillia to be disturbed in her illness, and--"

"If you please, sir, Mrs. Merillia feels herself so much better that she is coming down to dinner to-night."

"Coming down to dinner!" said the Prophet, aghast.

"Yes, sir. And she has asked in Sir Tiglath b.u.t.t and the Lady Julia Postlethwaite to join her. I was about to show Mrs. Merillia the menu, sir, when--"

"Good Heavens! Merciful Powers!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the Prophet.

"Sir?"

"What on earth is to be done?" continued the Prophet, lost for the moment to all sense of propriety.

Mr. Ferdinand looked at the old and valued friends.

"I can't say, sir, I'm sure," he replied, pursing up his lips.

"What is the meaning--" began Mr. Sagittarius.

"I'm not aware that--" started Madame.

The Prophet darted to the library door and opened it.

"Pray, pray come in here," he hissed. "My grandmother! Softly!"

"But the old la--"

"Hush, please!"

"I must remark, Mr. Viv--"

"Ts.h.!.+ Ts.h.!.+ Mr. Ferdinand, wait in the hall. I shall want to speak to you in a moment."

"Yes, sir."

The Prophet closed the door and turned to this indignant visitors.

"This is terrible," he said. "Terrible!"

"Pray why?" cried Madame.

"Why," cried the Prophet, "why?"

He sought frantically for some excuse. Suddenly a bright idea occurred to him.

"Why," he said, impressively. "Because Sir Tiglath b.u.t.t, the gentleman who is coming to dinner, is the person who for five-and-forty years has been seeking Mr. Sagittarius with the firm intention of a.s.saulting, perhaps of killing, him."

Mr. Sagittarius turned deathly pale, and made a movement as if to get out of the nearest window.