“Rest, Crampton Vale, N. I lose them in the shadows.  The next day I call and find your grandmother is dying from the noise made by boys bringing you private telegrams.  And then you tell me, me—­Minerva Partridge—­that you have no double life!  Yes, you can let him get up now, please.”

The cabman permitted the horse to do so and they again struggled funereally forward.  The Prophet was still very pale.

“I suppose it is useless to—­very well,” he said.  “My life is double.”

“Ah!”

“But only lately, quite lately.”

“Never mind that.  Oh!  How glad I am that you have had the courage too!  You will soon get into it, as I did.  But you should have all your telegrams and so forth directed to Jellybrand’s.”

“It’s too late,” replied the Prophet, dejectedly.  “Too late.  I do wish that horse wouldn’t fall down so continually!  It’s most monotonous.”

“The poor man naturally wants the extra sixpence.  I think I shall give him a shilling.  But now who is Mr. Sagittarius?”

“Who is he?”

“Yes.  I’ve seen him several times at Jellybrand’s, and when I first met him I though he was an outside broker.”

“You!  Was it on the pier at Margate?”

“Certainly not!  Really, Mr. Vivian! even in my double life I occasionally draw the line.”

“I beg your pardon.  I—­the horse confuses me.”

“Well, he’s stopped knocking now and will be up in another minute.  Who did you say Mr. Sagittarius was?”

“I didn’t say he was anybody, but he’s a man.”

“I’d guessed that.”

“And an acquaintance of mine.”

“Yes?”

“I’m afraid it’s going to rain.”

“It generally does in Knightsbridge.  Yes?”

“Is Sir Tiglath likely to be in?”

“He knows I’m coming.  Well, you haven’t told me who Mr. Sagittarius is.”

“Lady Enid,” said the Prophet, desperately, “I know very little of Mr. Sagittarius beyond the fact that he’s a man, which I’ve already informed you of.”

“Is he an outside broker?”

“No.”

“Then he’s Malkiel.  You can’t deny it.”

“I can deny anything,” said the Prophet, who, already upset by the events of the day, was now goaded almost to desperation.  “I can and—­and must.  There’s the horse down again!”

“I shall have to give the man one and sixpence.  Are your going to keep your promise to Mrs. Merillia and Sir Tiglath?”

To this question the Prophet determined to give a direct answer, in order to draw Lady Enid away from the more dangerous subjects.

“No,” he said, with a spasm of pain.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to.”

“Why?”

“Because when one’s once been really and truly silly it’s impossible not to repeat the act, absolutely impossible.  You’ll never stop now.  You’ll go on from one thing to another, as I do.”