“Oh, Hennessey!” cried Mrs. Merillia, on his entrance, “thank God that you are come.  There are burglars in the house.  Fancy has just encountered them in the hall.  Go for the police, my dearest boy.  Don’t lose a moment.”

“My dear grannie, they’re not burglars.”

“I can’t speak different, Master Hennessey, nor—­”

“Then who are they, Hennessey?  Fancy declares—­”

“They are two—­two—­well, two old and valued friends of mine.”

“Old and valued friends of ours!”

“Of mine, grannie.  Fancy, pray don’t make such a noise!”

“Fancy,” said Mrs. Merillia, “you can go to your room and lie down.”

“Yes, ma’am.  I say again, as I said afore, the house has been broke into and the robbers—­”

At this point the Prophet shut the door on the faithful and persistent creature, who forthwith carried her determination and sobs to an upper storey.

“Hennessey, what is all this?  Who is really here?”

“Grannie, dear, only two friends of mine,” replied the Prophet, trying to look at ease, and feeling like a criminal.

“Friends of yours?  But surely then I know them.  I thought I knew all your friends.”

“So you do, grannie, all except—­except just these.”

“And they are old and valued, you say?”

“No, no—­that is, I mean yes.”

Mrs. Merillia was too dignified to ask any further questions.  She lay back on her sofa, and looked at her grandson with a shining of mild reproach in her green eyes.

“Well, my dear,” she said, “go back to your friends, but don’t forget that Lady Julia and Sir Tiglath are dining here at half-past seven.”

“Grannie,” cried the Prophet, with a desperate feeling that Madame meant to stay, “you ought not to dine downstairs to-night.  Let me send and put them off.”

“No, Hennessey,” she answered, with gentle decision.  “I feel better, and I want cheering up.  My morning was not altogether pleasant.”

The Prophet understood that she was alluding to his questions, and felt cut to the heart.  His home seemed crumbling about him, but he knew not what to do or what to say.  Mrs. Merillia observed his agitation, but she did not choose to remark upon it, for she considered curiosity the most vulgar of all the vices.

“Go to your friends, dear,” she said again.  “But be in time for dinner.”

“Yes, grannie.”

The Prophet descended the stairs and met Mr. Ferdinand at the bottom.

“Am I to send for the police, sir?”

“No, no.  I’ve explained matters.”

“And about dinner, sir?”

“I’ll tell you in a moment, Mr. Ferdinand,” replied the Prophet, entering the library with the fixed intention of getting Madame and Mr. Sagittarius out of the house without further delay.