The figure approached.
"What's up now?" it said familiarly, emphasising the question with
a sharp contraction of the left eyelid. "You're having a nice game
to-night, and no mistake."
"Game!" replied the Prophet, sternly. "This is no game. Stand there, by
the area gate, and if anyone should run out, knock him down with your
truncheon. Do you hear me?"
With these impressive words he entered the house and shut the door,
leaving the policeman to whistle inquiringly to the stars that were
watching over this house, once peaceful, but now the abode of violence
and tragedy.
In the hall he found Gustavus still on his knees between Lady Enid and
Sir Tiglath.
"Lady Enid," he said, even in this hour mindful of the proprieties, "you
have heard what this villain is doing here, and must be sensible that
you can take no part in this search."
"Oh, but I particularly want--" began Lady Enid, hastily.
"Pardon me," said the Prophet, with more firmness than Napoleon ever
showed to his marshals. "You must retire. Please come this way. Mrs.
Fancy will look after you."
"Oh, but really, Mr. Vivian, I--"
"Kindly follow me."
Lady Enid hesitated for a moment, but the Prophet's manner was too much
for her, and when he stepped, like a clockwork automaton with a steel
interior, towards the staircase, she crept mildly in his wake.
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