"Well, I never! What gentleman!" he exclaimed."And me blue and black all over, to say nothing of the bookcase and the new paint that'll be wanted for the door!""Can you chatter about trifles at such a moment?" cried the Prophet.
"Don't you see the lady's been poisoned?""What--by the old gent?" returned the young librarian."Then what does she come to a library for? Why don't she go to a chemist?"The lady turned her agonised eyes upon the Prophet.
"Take me to one," she whispered through pale lips.
She tottered towards him and leaned upon his arm.
"Trust me, trust me, I will," said the Prophet."Direct me!" he added to the young librarian.
"There's one on the other side of the rabbit shop," said that worthy, who had suddenly become exceedingly glum in manner and morose in appearance.
"Thank you.Kindly unlock the door."
The young librarian did so, lethargically, and the lady and the Prophet began to move slowly into the street.Just as they were gaining it Malkiel the Second cried out,--"One moment, sir!"
"Not one," retorted the Prophet, firmly."Not one till this lady has had an antidote."He walked on with determination.Supporting the lady.But ere he got quite out of earshot he caught these fragments of a shattered speech, hurtling through the symphony of London noises:--"Banks of the Mouse--Madame--sake of Capricor--be sure I--probe--quick --search--the very core--hear from me--architects--marrow--almanac--the last day--the Berkeley square--"The final ejaculation melted away into the somewhat powerful discord produced by the impact of a brewer's dray with a runaway omnibus at the corner of Greek Street, which was eventually resolved by the bursting of a motor car--containing two bookmakers and an acting manager--which mingled with them at the rate of perhaps forty miles an hour.
"Yes, please, a hansom," said Lady Enid Thistle, some five minutes later, as she and the Prophet stood together upon the kerb in front of the rabbit shop."I feel much better now."The Prophet hailed a hansom and handed her into it.
"Which way are you going?" he asked.
Lady Enid looked doubtful.
"I ought to be going back to Jellybrand's," she said."I had an appointment.But really--you see Mr.Sagittarius is there, and altogether--I don't know."She was obviously still upset by the "creaming foam," and the other incidents of the afternoon.
"Come to tea with grannie," said the Prophet.
"She's at home?"
"Yes.She's twisted her ankle."
"Oh, I'm so sorry."
"Let me escort you."
"Thanks.I think I will."
"You won't mind stopping for a moment at Hollings's?" said the Prophet, in Piccadilly Circus."I promised to buy some roses.Somebody is coming in to tea.""On, no.But who is it?"
"I don't know.Only one person, I think.An old friend, no doubt.
Probably the Central American Ambassador's grandfather.""Oh, if that's all! I feel a little shaky still.""Naturally."
The Prophet bought the roses and they drove on.
"It's very nice of you not to ask any questions," observed Lady Enid, presently.
The Prophet had been thinking it was, but he only said,--"Oh, not at all."
"I'm a woman," promised Lady Enid, "and I don't know whether I can be so nice."The Prophet glanced at her and met her curious grey eyes.
"Try--please," he replied very gently, thinking of the oath which he had just taken.
Lady Enid was silent for two minutes, then she remarked,--"I have tried, but I can't succeed.Why on earth were you closeted in the parlour--at my time, too--with Mr.Sagittarius this afternoon?""Then you really are Miss Minerva Partridge? And it was really you who had--had--well, 'bespoke' the parlour at half-past three?""Certainly.Now we are neither of us nice, but we're both of us human.""There were some letters for you," said the Prophet.
Lady Enid wrinkled her smooth, young, healthy-looking forehead.
"How stupid of me! I'll fetch them to-morrow.Well?"She looked at the Prophet with obvious expectation.
"I'm so sorry I can't tell you," he replied with gentle firmness.
"Oh, all right," she rejoined."But now I'm at a disadvantage.You know I'm Miss Minerva.""Yes.But I don't know why you are, or why you go to Jellybrand's, or why you rushed into the parlour, or who the old gentleman was that--"The cab stopped before Mrs.Merillia's house.
In the hall, upon an oaken bench, they perceived a very broad-brimmed top hat standing on its head.Beside it lay two pieces of a stout and knobbly walking stick which had been broken in half.Lady Enid started violently.
"Good Heavens!" she cried.
She picked up the walking stick, examined it, and laid it down.
"I don't think I want any tea," she murmured.
"I'm sure you do," said the Prophet, with some pressure.
She stood still for a moment.Then, catching the attentive round eye of Gustavus, who was waiting by the hall door, she shrugged her shoulders and walked towards the staircase.
"It's very hard lines," she murmured as she began to ascend: "all the questions you wanted to ask are being answered.You know I'm Miss Minerva already.In another minute you'll know who the old gentleman was that--"The Prophet could tell from the expression of her straight, slightly Scottish, back that she was pouting as she entered the drawing-room where Mrs.Merillia was having tea with--somebody.
