"Merciful Heavens!" cried the Prophet, pressing his hands to his throbbing brow. "Merciful Heavens! who can that be?"
There was no answer, and the bell pealed again.
"Grannie will be disturbed!" exclaimed the Prophet, addressing himself, passionately to the darkness. "Grannie will be killed by all this uproar."
"This must cease," cried the Prophet. "This must and shall cease. I will bring it all to an end once and for ever!"
And, with sudden desperate decision, he shut the window, burst out of the pantry and came upon Madame, who was standing in a somewhat furtive manner by the door that opened into the cellars of the mansion.
"Mr. Vivian," she began, in a rather subdued voice, "that isn't a comet, that's a copper!"
"D'you think--d'you think that can be my husband?" continued Madame, still seeming subdued. "I should like him--Do you think it's him?"
"I will very soon see," replied the Prophet, in a most determined manner.
"Don't hold me, if you please. Kindly let me pass!"
And, breaking from the lady's anxious grasp, the Prophet rushed into the hall just as Gustavus appeared, descending the front stairs from the landing before Mrs. Merillia's door, where he had been in close conference with Mrs. Fancy.
"Stand back, Gustavus," said the Prophet.
"I know there is. I am about to answer the door myself."
"If you please, sir, Mrs. Merillia is greatly alarmed by the constant ringing, and Mrs. Fancy thinks--"
"Gustavus," said the Prophet in an awful voice, "you may retire, but first let me tell you one thing."
"Certainly, sir," said the footman, beginning to tremble.
"The circumstances that have rendered a hitherto peaceful household more disordered than an abode of madmen are about to be brought to an end for ever. There is a point at which a gentleman must either cease to be a gentleman or cease to be a man. I have reached that point, Gustavus, and I am about to cease to be a gentleman."
And, with this terrible statement, the Prophet advanced with a sort of appalling deliberation and threw the front door wide open.
Upon the doorstep stood Lady Enid wrapped in a pink opera cloak and Sir Tiglath Butt shrouded in the Inverness. The Prophet faced them with a marble demeanour.
"I thought you'd be here, Mr. Vivian," began Lady Enid in a bright manner.