“Is she telling the truth?”
“I beg your pardon,” said the Prophet, bounding on the instruments.
“Get off those precious tools, young man, far more valuable than your finite carcase! Get off them this moment and answer me—is this young female speaking the truth?”
The Prophet got off the instruments and, in answer to a firm, Scottish gesture from Lady Enid, nodded his head twice.
“What!” continued Sir Tiglath, puffing out his cheeks, “a woman be a pioneer among the Heavenly Bodies!”
The Prophet nodded again, as mechanically as a penny toy.
“The old astronomer is exercised,” bawled Sir Tiglath, with every symptom of acute perturbation. “He is greatly exercised by the narrative of the young female!”
So saying, he heaved himself up out of his chair and began to roll rapidly up and down the room, alternately distending his cheeks and permitting them to collapse.
“I should tell you also, Sir Tiglath,” interposed Lady Enid, as if struck by a sudden idea, “that Mrs. Bridgeman’s original adviser and assistant in her astronomical researches was a certain Mr. Sagittarius, who is also an intimate friend of Mr. Vivian’s.”
The Prophet sat down again upon the instruments with a thud.