"We'll see," he answered, opening the deal door. "Frederick Smith!"

"Here, Mr. Sagittarius," cried the soprano voice of the young librarian.

"Can you leave the library for a moment, Frederick Smith?"

The Prophet held up a sovereign over Malkiel the Second's narrow
shoulder.

"Yes, Mr. Sagittarius, for half a mo!"

"Ah! Where is the nearest champagne, Frederick Smith?"

"The nearest--"

"Champagne, I said, Frederick Smith."

"I daresay I could get a dozen at Gillow's next the rabbit shop,"
replied the young librarian, thoughtfully.

The Prophet shuddered to the depths of his being, but he was now
embarked upon his enterprise and must crowd all sail.

"Go to Gillow's," he exclaimed, with an assumption of feverish
geniality, "and bring back a couple of rabbits--I mean bottles. They
must be dry. You understand?"

The young librarian looked out of the window.

"Oh, I'll manage that, sir. It ain't raining," he replied carelessly.