Merillia. "Go away--and let me hear you
going."
A sudden idea struck the Prophet. He did not say another word, but
immediately walked downstairs, tramping heavily and shaking the wood
balusters violently at every step he took. His ruse succeeded. Hearing
the intruder depart, Mrs. Merillia's curious courage deserted her, she
dropped the poker into the grate, and once more set both bells going
with all her might and main. The Prophet let her ring for nearly five
minutes, then he bounded once more upstairs and tapped very gently on
the door.
"Grannie," he cried, "are you ringing? What is it?"
This time Mrs. Merillia recognised his voice, tottered to the door,
unlocked it, and fell, trembling, into his anxious arms.
"Oh, Hennessey!" she gasped. "Oh--Hennessey!"
"Grannie, what is it? What on earth is the matter?"
"The ratcatcher! The ratcatcher!"
"The ratcatcher!" cried the Prophet.
"He has come back. He is here. He has been trying to break into my
room."
"What ratcatcher?"
"The one that dined to-night--the one you called your old and--and
valued--friend."
"Mr. Sagittarius?" exclaimed the Prophet.
"He is here."
"Here!"
"I have seen him.
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