He seemed lost to his surroundings, and rapt by some great vision of enchanted architects, busy in drawing plans of the magic buildings of the future ages.The Prophet felt that it would be impious to disturb him.Malkiel's reverie was long, and indeed the two prophets might well have been sitting in Jellybrand's parlour now, had not a violent sneeze called for the pink assistance of the flight of storks, and brought the sneezer down to the level of ordinary humanity.
"Yes, sir--I give you my word Capricornus is to be an architect,"repeated Malkiel."What do you say to that?""Is it--is it really a better profession than that of prophecy?" asked the Prophet, rather nervously.
Malkiel smiled mournfully.
"Sir, it may not be more lucrative, but it is more select.Madame will not mix with prophets, but she has a 'day,' sir, on the banks of the Mouse, and she has gathered around her a very pleasant and select little circle.""Indeed."
"Yes, sir.Architects and their wives.You understand?""Quite," rejoined the Prophet, "quite."
Under the mesmeric influence of Malkiel he began to feel as if architects were some strange race of sacred beings set apart, denizens of some holy isle or blessed nook of mediaeval legend.Would he ever meet them? Would he ever encounter one ranging unfettered where flowed the waters of the River Mouse?
"They do not know who we are, sir," continued Malkiel, furtively."To them and to the whole world--excepting Jellybrand's and you--we are the Sagittariuses of Sagittarius Lodge, people at ease, sir, living upon our competence beside the Mouse.They do not see the telescope, sir, in the locked studio at the top of the lodge.They do not know why sometimes, on Madame's 'Wednesdays,' I am pale--with sitting up on behalf of the /Almanac/.For Capricornus's sake and for Corona's all this is hid from the world.Madame and I are the victims of a double life.Yes, sir, for the children's sake we have never dared to let it be known what I really am."Suddenly he began to grow excited.
"And now," he cried, "after all these years of secrecy, after all these years of avoiding the central districts--in which Madame longs to live --after all these years of seclusion beyond the beat even of the buses, do you come here to me, and search yourself and say upon your oath that a prophet can live and be a prophet in the Berkeley Square, that he can read the stars with Gunter's just opposite, ay, and bring out an almanac if he likes within a shilling fare of the Circus? If this is so"--he struck the deal table violently with his clenched fist--"of what use are the sacrifices of myself and Madame? Of what use is it to live under a modest name such as Sagittarius, when I might be Malkiel the Second to the whole world? Of what use to flee from W.and dwell perpetually in N.? Why, if what you say is true, we might leave the Mouse to-morrow and Madame could pop in and out of the Stores just like any lady of pleasure."At the thought of this so long foregone enchantment Malkiel's emotion completely overcame him, his voice died away, overborne by a violent fit of choking, and he sat back in his cane chair trembling in every limb.The Prophet was deeply moved by his emotion, and longed most sincerely to assuage it.But his deep and growing conviction of his own power rendered him useless as a comforter.He could not lie.He could not deny that he was a prophet.He could only say, in his firmest voice,--"Malkiel the Second, be brave.You must see this thing through."On hearing these original and noble words Malkiel lifted up his marred countenance.
"I know it, sir, I know it," he answered."One moment.The thought of Madame--the Stores--I--of all that might perhaps have been--"He choked again.The Prophet looked away.A strong man's emotion is always very scared and very terrible.Three minutes swept by, then the Prophet heard a calm and hollow voice say,--"And now, sir, to business."
The Prophet looked up, and perceived that Malkiel's overcoat was tightly buttoned and that his mouth was tightly set in an expression of indomitable, though tragic, resolution.
"What business?" asked the Propet.
"Mine," replied Malkiel."Mine, sir, and yours.You have chosen to enter my life.You cannot deny that.You cannot deny that I sought to avoid--I might even say to dodge you."With the remembrance of the recent circus performance in the library still strong upon him the Prophet could not.He bowed his head.
"Very well, sir.You have chosen to enter my life.That act has given me the right to enter yours.Am I correct?""I suppose--I mean--yes, you are," answered the Prophet, overwhelmed by the pitiless logic of his companion, and wondering what was coming next.
"I have been forced--I think I may say that--to reveal myself to you, sir.Nothing can ever alter that.Nothing can ever take from you the knowledge--denied by Madame to the very architects--of who I really am.
You have told me, sir, that I must see this thing through.I tell you now, at this table, in this parlour, that I intend to see it through--and through."
As Malkiel said the last words he gazed at the Prophet with eyes that seemed suddenly to have taken on the peculiar properties of the gimlet.
The Prophet began to feel extremely uneasy.But he said nothing.He felt that there was more to come.And he was right.
