"The Chancellor of the Exchequer, ma'am, desires his compliments, and he begs you to last out, if possible, till he has fetched Sir William Broadbent to see you.He is going there on his bike, ma'am, and had no conception you was dying till he knew it this moment, ma'am.""Thank the Chancellor, Mr.Ferdinand, and say that though we must all go out some day I have no desire for a dissolution at present, and shall do my best to prove myself worthy of my constitution.""Yes, ma'am."
Mr.Ferdinand retired, brushing away a tear.
"It would not be feasible, I suppose, Hennessey, to station Gustavus permanently at the telegraph office with a small hamper, so that he might collect the wires in it as they arrive and convey them here, once an hour or so, entering by the area door.I thought perhaps that might obviate--"Mr.Ferdinand once more appeared, looking very puffy about the eyes.
"If you please, ma'am, La--ady Julia Pos--ostlethwaite is below, and asks whe--ether you are truly going ma'am?""Going? Where to, Mr.Ferdinand?"
"The other pla--ace, ma'am.Her ladyship is crying something terrible, ma'am, and says, till she no--no--noticed the fact she had no--no--notion you was leaving us so soon, ma'am."Here Mr.Ferdinand uttered a very strange and heartrending sound that was rather like the bark of a dog with a bad cold in its head.
"It is really very odd so many people finding out so soon!" said Mrs.
Merillia in some surprise."Tell her ladyship, Mr.Ferdinand, that--"But at this moment there was the sound of feet on the stairs, and Lady Enid Thistle hurried into the room, closely followed by Mr.Robert Green.Lady Enid went up at once to Mrs.Merillia.
"I am so shocked and distressed to see your news, dear Mrs.Merillia,"she cried affectionately."But," she added, with much inquisitiveness, "is it really true that if anyone tapped on the door you would certainly die? How can you be so sure of yourself.""What do you mean? Ah, Mr.Green, how d'you do? See my news!""Yes, written up on the front door.Everyone's shocked.""Rather!" said Mr.Green, gazing at Mrs.Merillia with confused mournfulness."One doesn't see death on a front door every day, don't you know, in big round hand too, and then one of those modern words.""Death on the front door in big round hand!" said Mrs.Merillia in the greatest perplexity.
"I put it there, grannie," said the Prophet, humbly."I wrote that if another boy knocked, death would certainly ensue.""Ensue.That's it.I knew it was one of those modern words," said Mr.
Green.
"Another boy?" said Lady Enid."Why should another boy knock?""Hennessey receives about nine telegrams an hour," answered Mrs.
Merillia.
"Really!"
Lady Enid looked at him with keen interest, while Mrs.Merillia continued,--"You had better take death off the door now, Mr.Ferdinand.I feel more myself.Please thank her ladyship and tell her so.""Yes, ma'am."
"Nine telegrams an hour!" repeated Lady Enid."Mr.Vivian, would you mind just seeing me as far as Hill Street? Bob has to go to Tattersall's.""Have I, Niddy?" asked Mr.Green, with evident surprise.
"Yes, to pick up a polo pony.Don't you recollect?""A polo pony, was it? By Jove!"
"I will come with pleasure," said the poor Prophet, who felt fit only to lie down quietly in his grave."If you don't mind being left, grannie?"Mrs.Merillia was looking pleased.
"No, no.Go with Lady Enid, my dear boy.If any telegrams come shall Iopen--"
"No," cried the Prophet, with sudden fierce energy."For mercy's sake--I mean, grannie, dear; that none will come.If they should"--his ordinary gentle eyes flamed almost furiously--"Mr.Ferdinand is to burn them unread--yes, to ashes.I will tell him." And he escorted Lady Enid tumultuously downstairs, missing his footing at every second step.
In the square they parted from Mr.Green, who said,--"Good-bye, Niddy, old girl.What do I want to pick up at Tattersall's?""A polo pony, Bob," she answered firmly.
"Oh, a polo pony.Thanks, Chin, chin, Hen.Polo pony is it?"He strode off, whistling "She wore a wreath of roses" in a puzzled manner, but still preserving the accepted demeanour of a bulwark.
As soon as Mr.Green was out of sight Lady Enid said,--"We aren't going to Hill Street."
"Aren't we?" replied the Prophet, feebly.
"No.I must see Sir Tiglath Butt to-day.I want you to take me to his door.""Where is his door?"
"In Kensington Square.Do you mind hailing a four-wheeler.We can talk privately there.No one will hear us."The Prophet hailed a growler, wondering whether they would be able to hear each other.As they got in Lady Enid, after giving the direction, said to the cabman, who was a short person, with curling ebon whiskers, a broken-up expression and a broken-down manner:
"Drive slowly, please and I'll give you an extra six-pence.""Lydy?"
"Drive slowly, and I'll give you another six-pence.""How did yer think I was gawing to drive, lydy?""I wonder why cabmen are always so interested in one's inmost thoughts," said Lady Enid, as the horse fell down preparatory to starting.
"I wonder."
"I hope he will go slowly."
"He seems to be doing so."
At this point the horse, after knocking on the front of the cab with his hind feet ten or a dozen times, got up, hung his head, and drew a large number of deep and dejected breaths.
"Am I gawing slowly enough, lydy?" asked the cabman, anxiously.
"Yes, but you can let him trot along now.""Right, lydy, I ain't preventing of him."As eventually they scrambled slowly forward in the Kensington direction, Lady Enid remarked,--"Why don't you have them sent to Jellybrand's?""Have what?" asked the Prophet.
"Your telegrams.The messages from your double life.I do.""But I assure you--"
"Mr.Vivian, it's useless really.I find you hidden away in the inner room of Jellybrand's with Mr.Sagittarius, closely guarded by Frederick Smith; fourpenny champagne--""Four bob--shilling, I mean."
