The Prophet was resolved to dare all, and he, therefore, answered
boldly,--

"Malkiel the Second, I wish to speak to you as one prophet to another."

At this remark Malkiel started violently, and darted a searching glance
from beneath his blonde eyebrows at Hennessey.

"Do you live in the Berkeley Square, sir," he said, "and claim to be a
prophet?"

"I do," said Hennessey, with modest determination.

Malkiel smiled, a long and wreathed smile that was full of luscious
melancholy and tragic sweetness.

"The assumption seems rather ridiculous--forgive me," he exclaimed. "The
Berkeley Square! Whatever would Madame say?"

"Madame?" said the Prophet, inquiringly.

"Madame Malkiel, or Madame Sagittarius, as she always passes."

"Your wife?"

"My honoured lady," said Malkiel, with pride. "More to me almost than
any lunar guide or starry monitor. What, oh, what would she say to a
prophet from the Berkeley Square?"

He burst into hollow laughter, shaking upon the cane chair till its very