"Wait till the children are grown up. Wait till Capricornus has got his
Latin by heart and gone to Oxford. Then, and only then, you will know
whether Malkiel the Second is the exception to the rule of prophets.
Yes, and Madame shall know it, too. She trusted me, sir, as only a woman
can. She knew I was a prophet and had a prophet for a father before me.
And yet she trusted me. It was a daring thing to do. Many would call it
foolhardy. Wouldn't they, sir?"

The dogskin glove was raised. The Prophet hastened to reply,--

"I daresay they would."

"But she was not afraid, and she shall have her reward. Corona shall
never set foot in Drakeman's Villas, nor breathe the air of Hagglin's. I
must have a glass of water, I must, sir, indeed."

He gasped heavily and was about to rise, when the Prophet said:

"Join me in a glass of wine."

"I should be delighted," Malkiel answered. "Delighted, I'm sure, but I
doubt whether Jellybrand's--"

"Could not Frederick Smith go out and fetch us a--a pint bottle of
champagne?" said the Prophet, playing a desperate card in the prophetic
game.

An expression almost of joviality overspread the tragic farce of
Malkiel's appearance.