p and, very gently indeed, inserted his latchkey into the door.
A shaded lamp was burning in the deserted hall, where profound silence
reigned. Clear was the night and starry. As the Prophet turned to close
the door he perceived the busy crab, and the thought of his beloved
grandmother, sinking now to rest on the second floor all unconscious of
the propinquity of the scorpion, the contiguity of the serpent, filled
his expressive eyes with tears. He shut the door, stood in the hall and
listened. He heard a chair crack, the ticking of a clock. There was no
other sound, and he felt certain that Mr. Ferdinand and Gustavus had
heeded his anxious medical directions and gone entirely to bed betimes,
leaving the butler's pantry free for the nocturnal operations of the
victim of Madame. For he recognised that she was the guiding spirit of
the family that dwelt beside the Mouse. He might have escaped out of
the snare of Mr. Sagittarius, but Madame was a fowler who would hold
him fast till she had satisfied herself once and for all whether it were
indeed possible to dwell in the central districts, within reach of the
Army and Navy heaven in Victoria Street, and yet remain a prophet. Yes,
he must now work for the information of her ambitious soul. He sighed
deeply and went softly up the stairs. His chamber was on the same floor
as Mrs. Merillia's, and, as he neared her door, he rose instinctively
upon his toes and, grasping the tails of his evening coat firmly with
his left hand, to prevent any chance rustling of their satin lining, and
bearing his George the Third silver candlestick steadily to control any
clattering of its extinguisher, he moved on rather like a thief who
was also a trained ballerina, holding his breath and pressing his lips
together in a supreme agony of dumbness.

Unluckily he tripped in the raised pattern of the carpet, the
candlestick uttered a silver note, his pent-in breath escaped with a
loud gulp, and Mrs. Merillia's delicate voice cried out from behind her
shut door,--

"Hennessey! Hennessey!"

The Prophet bit his lip and went at once into her room.

Mrs. Merillia looked simply charming in bed, with her long and elegant
head shaded by a beautiful muslin helmet trimmed with lace, and a
delicious embroidered wrapper round her shoulders. The Prophet stood
beside her, shading the candle-flame with his hand.

"Well, grannie, dear," he said, "what is it? You ought to be asleep."

"I never sleep before tw