the right to enter yours. Am I correct?"

"I suppose--I mean--yes, you are," answered the Prophet, overwhelmed by
the pitiless logic of his companion, and wondering what was coming next.

"I have been forced--I think I may say that--to reveal myself to you,
sir. Nothing can ever alter that. Nothing can ever take from you the
knowledge--denied by Madame to the very architects--of who I really am.
You have told me, sir, that I must see this thing through. I tell
you now, at this table, in this parlour, that I intend to see it
through--and through."

As Malkiel said the last words he gazed at the Prophet with eyes that
seemed suddenly to have taken on the peculiar properties of the gimlet.
The Prophet began to feel extremely uneasy. But he said nothing. He felt
that there was more to come. And he was right.

"It is my duty," continued Malkiel, in a louder voice, "my sacred duty
to Madame--to say nothing of Corona and Capricornus--to probe you to
the core"--here the Prophet could not resist a startled movement of
protest--"and to search you to the quick."

"Oh, really!" cried the Prophet.

"This duty I shall carry out unflinchingly," pursued Malkiel, "at
whatever cost to myself. This will not be our last interview. Do not
think it."

"I assure you," inserted the Prophet, endeavouring vainly to seem at
ease, "I do not wish to think it."