t," he said. "On no account. As you very rightly say--a
butler's pantry is the place for a telescope. It can be of great service
there."

His fervour surprised Mr. Ferdinand, who began to wonder whether, by
any chance, his master knew of the Lord Chancellor's agreeable-looking
second-cook. After pausing a moment respectfully, Mr. Ferdinand was
about to decamp when the Prophet checked him with a gesture.

"One moment, Mr. Ferdinand!"

"Sir?"

"One moment!"

Mr. Ferdinand stood still. The Prophet cleared his throat, arranged his
tie, and then said, with an air of very elaborate nonchalance,--

"At what time do you generally go to bed, Mr. Ferdinand, when you don't
sit up?"

"Sometimes at one time, sir, and sometimes at another."

"That's rather ambiguous."

"I beg pardon, sir."

"What is your usual hour for being quite--that is, entirely in bed."

"Entirely in bed, sir?"

Mr. Ferdinand's fine bass voice vibrated with surprise.

"Yes. Not partially in bed, but really and truly in bed?"

"Well, sir," returned Mr. Ferdinand, with decided dignity, "when I am in
bed, sir, I am."

"And when's that?"

"By twelve, sir."

"I thought as much," cried the Prophet, with slightly theatrical
solicitude. "You sit up too late, Mr. Ferdinand."

"I hope, sir, that I--"

"That's what makes you so pale, Mr. Ferdinand, and delicate."

"Delicate, sir!" cried Mr. Ferdinand, who had in fact been hopelessly
robust from the cradle, totally incapable of acquiring even the most
universal complaints, and, moreover, miraculously exempt from that
well-recognised affliction of the members of his profession so widely
known as "butler's feet."

"Yes," said the Prophet, emphatically. "You should be in bed, thoroughly
in bed, by a quarter to eleven. And Gustavus too! He is young, and the
young can't be too careful. Begin to-night, Mr. Ferdinand. I speak for
your health's sake, believe me."

So saying the Prophet hurried away, leaving Mr. Ferdinand almost as
firmly rooted to the Turkey carpet with surprise as if he had been woven
into the pattern at birth, and never unpicked in later years.

At ten that evening the Prophet, having escaped early from his dinner on
some extravagant plea of sudden illness or second gaiety, stood in the
small and sober passage of the celebrated Tintack Club and inquired
anxiously for Mr. Robert Green.

"Yes, sir. Mr. Green is upstairs in the smoke-room," said the
functionary whom the club grew und