gentleman
who is coming to dinner, is the person who for five-and-forty years
has been seeking Mr. Sagittarius with the firm intention of assaulting,
perhaps of killing, him."

Mr. Sagittarius turned deathly pale, and made a movement as if to get
out of the nearest window.

"This is a trap!" he stammered. "This is a rat-trap. This was planned."

"Really"--began the Prophet.

But Mr. Sagittarius did not heed the exclamation. Trembling very
violently, he continued,--

"Sophy, my darling, you are in danger. Let us fly!"

And, clutching his wife by the arm, to the Prophet's unspeakable delight
he endeavoured to lead, or rather to drag her to the door. But Madame
now showed the metal she was made of.

"Jupiter," she exclaimed, in her deepest note, "if you are a Prophet you
can surely at moments be also a man. Where is your _toga virilibus_?"

"I don't know, my love, I'm sure. Don't let us lose a moment. Come, my
angel!"

"I shall not come," retorted Madame, whose leaping ambition had been
fired by the sound of titled names. "The gentleman believes you to be an
American syndicate."

"I know, my blessing, I know. But--"

"Very well. If you don't behave like one he will never suspect you."

The Prophet saw his chance slipping from him and hastened to interpose.

"He might divine the truth," he said. "One can never--"

But at this moment he was interrupted by Mr. Ferdinand who abruptly
opened the door and observed,--

"If you please, sir, Mrs. Merillia has sent down orders that the police
are to be fetched at once."

Mr. Sagittarius, now thoroughly unnerved, turned from white to grey.

"The police!" he vociferated. "Sophy, my angel, let us fly. This is no
place for you!"

"The police!" cried the Prophet. "Why?"

"I believe it's Mrs. Fancy's doing, sir. If you would go to Mrs.
Merillia, sir, I think--"

The Prophet rushed from the room and hastened upstairs four steps at a
time. He found his beloved grandmother in a state of grave agitation,
and Mrs. Fancy, in floods of tears, reiterating her statement that there
were robbers in the house.

"Oh, Hennessey!" cried Mrs. Merillia, on his entrance, "thank God
that you are come. There are burglars in the house. Fancy has just
encountered them in the hall. Go for the police, my dearest boy. Don't
lose a moment."

"My dear grannie, they're not burglars."

"I can't speak different, Master Hennessey, nor--"

"Then who are they, Hennessey? Fancy declares--"