“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. The low whistle sounded again, and a husky voice said,—
“Are you there?”
“Yes,” replied the Prophet, summoning all his courage. “I am.”
“What ‘a’ you put out the light for?” said the voice, which seemed to come from far away.
“I haven’t put it out,” returned the Prophet. “It’s gone away.”
At this juncture Malkiel, impelled by curiosity, ceased from trembling, and, leaning forward upon the loving-cup, glued his ear to the key-hole of the cupboard.
“Why was you so late to-night?” proceeded the voice. “She’s been in a rare taking, I can tell you.”