man dressed in a mask that was unable
to deceive. His lean face was almost absurd in its irregularity, its
high cheek-bones and deep depressions, its sharp nose, extensive mouth
and nervous chin. But the pale blue eyes that were its soul shone
plaintively beneath their shaggy, blonde eyebrows, and even an
application of pomade almost hysterically lavish could not entirely
conceal the curling gloom of the heavy, matted hair.

"Yes, two, Mr. Sagittarius," cried the young librarian, approaching from
the rack.

The gentleman held out a hand covered with a yellow dogskin glove.

"Thank you, Frederick Smith," he said.

And he turned to leave the building. But the Prophet intercepted him.

"Excuse me," said the Prophet. "I beg your pardon, but--but--" he looked
at the young librarian and accidentally let the half sovereign fall on
the counter. It gave the true ring. "I believe I heard you mention--let
drop the name Mr. Sagittarius."

"I don't know about let drop," began the youth in his usual revising
manner. "But I--"

At this point the gentleman in question began to move rather hastily
sideways towards the door. The Prophet followed him up and got before
him near the letter rack, while the young librarian retrieved the half
sovereign and bit it with his teeth.

"I really beg your pardon," said the Prophet, while Mr. Sagittarius
stood still in the violent attitude of one determined to dodge so long
as he has breath. "I am not at all in the habit of"--Mr. Sagittarius
dodged--"of intruding upon strangers--" Mr. Sagittarius dodged again
with such extraordinary abruptness and determination that he nearly
caused the young librarian to swallow the Prophet's golden bribe. "I see
you don't believe me," the Prophet continued, flushing pink but still
holding his ground, and indeed trying to turn Mr. Sagittarius's flank by
a strategic movement of almost military precision. "I see that plainly,
but--" Mr. Sagittarius ducked to the left, endeavouring to cover the
manoeuvre by an almost simultaneous and extremely passionate feint
towards the Prophet's centre, which was immediately withdrawn in good
order--"but your remark--arkable name, Saag--itt-ittarius, suggested to
me that you are rea-eally the man I seek."

He had now got Mr. Sagittarius into a very awkward bit of country
between the letter P. in the rack, under which reposed Miss Partridge's
correspondence, and the newspaper bureau, with the counter immediately
on his rear