“I have wondered,” said the Prophet, gazing at the couple before him with shining eyes.  “But it was dressed last night, and that made it exceptionally dangerous in some way.  Something seemed to tell me so.  Something did tell me so.”

“What told you?” inquired Madame, with more excitement and a certain respect which had been quite absent from her manner before.

“Something that came in the night.  I don’t know what it was.  Light flashed from it.”

“It sounds like a sort of comet, my darling,” said Mr. Sagittarius, considerably perturbed.  “We didn’t observe that the Crab was specially dressed, did we?”

“It had nothing on at all when we saw it,” said Madame with growing agitation.  “But whatever was this comet that flashed light?  That’s what I want to get at.”

“It was a dark thing that told me the Crab was dressed, that my grandmother had been with it and that its influence was inimical to her.”

“A dark thing!  That’s not a comet!” said Mr. Sagittarius.

“It vanished with a flash of light into the square.”

“At what time did you observe it, sir?” asked Mr. Sagittarius, while Madame leaned forward, gazing with goggling eyes at the Prophet.

“At exactly half-past one.”

“Did it stay long?”

“A few minutes only—­but it made an impression upon me that I can never forget.”

It had apparently also made a very great impression upon Mr. and Madame
Sagittarius, who remained for some seconds staring fixedly at the
Prophet without uttering a word.  At last Mr. Sagittarius turned to
Madame and said in a voice that shook with seriousness,—­

“Can it be, Sophronia, that prophets ought to live in the central districts?  Can it really be that the nearer they are to the Circus, and even to the Stores—­”

“O beatus illa!” interjected Madame upon the pinions of a sigh.

“Yes, Sophronia, the Stores, the more clearly is the knowledge of the future vouchsafed to them?  If it should prove to be so!”

Madame stared again upon the Prophet with a fixity and strained inquiry which made him shift in his seat.

“If it should!” she repeated, upon the lowest note of her lower register, which sounded, at that solemn moment, like the keynote of a dreamer.  Then, with a sudden change of manner, she cried sharply,—­

“Jupiter, you must accompany this gentleman back to the square to-day.”

The Prophet started.  So did Mr. Sagittarius.

“But—­” they cried simultaneously.

“And you must share his night watch.”

“But, my darling—­”

“Or I will,” cried Madame.  “Which is it to be?”

“Mr. Sagittarius!” exclaimed the Prophet.