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 exclaimed,--

"This matter must be threshed out thoroughly, Madame herself would wish
it so."

He paused, drew his chair nearer to the Prophet's, took off a glove and
continued,--

"Sir, you may be a prophet. You may have prophesied correctly in the
Berkeley Square. But if you are, and if you have, remember this--that
you have proved the self-sacrifice, the privation, the denial, the