phet, recovering his
composure as he approached his _coup_, "my grandmother did have an
accident, as I foretold."

"Did she have it in the square, sir?" asked Malkiel.

"And what if she did?" cried the Prophet with considerable testiness.

He was beginning to conceive a perfect hatred of the admirable
neighbourhood, which he had loved so well.

"I merely ask for information, sir."

"The accident did take place in the square certainly, and on the very
night for which I predicted it."

Malkiel the Second looked very thoughtful, even morose. He poured out
another glass of champagne, drank it slowly in sips, and when the glass
was empty ran the forefinger of his right hand slowly round and round
its edge.

"Can Madame be wrong?" he ejaculated at length, in a muffled voice of
meditation. "Can Madame be wrong?"

The Prophet gazed at him with profound curiosity, fascinated by the
circular movement of the yellow dogskin finger, and by the inward
murmur--so acutely mental--that accompanied it.

"Madame?" whispered the Prophet, drawing his cane chair noiselessly
forward.

"Ah!" rejoined Malkiel, gazing upon him with an eye whose pupil seemed
suddenly dilated to a most preternatural size. "Can she have been wrong
all these many years?"

"What--what about?" murmured the Prophet.

Malkiel the Second leaned his matted head in his hands and replied, as
if to himself,--

"Can it be that a prophet should live in Berkeley Square--not
Kimmins's"--here he raised his head, and raked his companion with a
glance that was almost fierce in its fervour of inquiry--"not Kimmins's
but--the Berkeley Square?"

CHAPTER IV

THE SECRET WATERS OF THE RIVER MOUSE

To this question the Prophet could offer no answer other than a bodily
one. He silently presented himself to the gaze of Malkiel, instinctively
squaring his shoulders, opening out his chest, and expanding his
nostrils in an effort to fill as large a space in the atmosphere of
the parlour as possible. And Malkiel continued to regard him with the
staring eyes of one whose mind is seething with strange, upheaving
thoughts and alarming apprehensions. Mutely the Prophet swelled and
mutely Malkiel observed him swell, till a point was reached from which
further progress--at least on the Prophet's part--was impossible. The
Prophet was now as big as the structure of his frame permitted him to
be, and apparently Malkiel realised the fact, for he suddenly dropped
his eyes and ex