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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"The Prophet of Berkeley Square"

You must
find the Crab. Look again."
The Prophet did so. But his eye blinked with fatigue and the heavens
swam before it.
"There is no Crab to-night," he said. "I assure you on my honour there
is none."
Exactly as he finished making this statement a low whistle rang through
the silence of the night. The Prophet started, Madame jumped, and
Malkiel bounded on the loving-cup.
The whistle was repeated.
"It's the thing!" whispered the Prophet.
"What thing?" inquired Madame, who had become rather pale.
"The dark thing that told me the Crab was dressed. It has come again."
"My word!" ejaculated Madame, looking uneasily around. "Where is it?"
Just then Malkiel the Second's feet once more began to tremble among the
plate of Mrs. Merillia.
"You hear it!" said the Prophet, much impressed.
"Did it rattle like that the other night?" gasped Madame, seizing the
Prophet by the arm.
The Prophet told a lie with his head.
"Address it, I beg," said Madame, in a great state of excitement.
"Meanwhile I will retire a few paces."
So saying, she backed into the passage, bearing the candle with her
for company, and leaving the Prophet in total darkness.


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