"Where is the old astronomer to search?" he asked, in a low voice.
"Oh-h-h-h!"
The final exclamation sounded remarkably tremulous.
"Anywhere--except in my grandmother's bedroom. That of course is sacred.
Well, why don't you begin?"
Sir Tiglath eyed the Prophet furtively.
"I'm--I'm going to," he murmured hoarsely. "The old astronomer does not
know the meaning of the word--fear."
Exactly as he uttered these inspiring words the hall clock growled, like
a very large dog, and struck two. Sir Tiglath started and caught hold
of Gustavus, who started in his turn and shrank away. The Prophet alone
stood up to the clock, which finished its remark with a click, and
resumed its habitual occupation of ticking.
"Pray begin, Sir Tiglath," said the Prophet.
"The old astronomer--must have a--a--a--candle."
"Here is one," said the Prophet, handing the desired article.
"A lighted candle."
"Why lighted? Oh, so that you can see to murder him! Gustavus, light the
candle."
Gustavus, who was trembling a good deal more than an autumn leaf,
complied after about fifteen unavailing attempts.
"There, Sir Tiglath," said the Prophet. "Now you can begin.
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