The Prophet nodded surreptitiously. He felt that she was curious to her finger-tips as he gently pressed them.
When he and his grandmother were alone together he rang the drawing-room bell. Mr. Ferdinand appeared.
“Mr. Ferdinand,” said the Prophet, “kindly call Gustavus to your aid and take away the telescope.”
“Sir!” said Mr. Ferdinand in great astonishment.
“Take away the telescope.”
“Certainly, sir. Where shall we place it, sir?”
“Anywhere,” said the Prophet. “In the pantry—the square—in Piccadilly if you like—it’s all the same to me.”
And, unable to trust himself to say more, he hurried almost tumultuously from the room.
“Here’s a go, Gustavus,” remarked Mr. Ferdinand a moment later as he entered the servants’ hall.
“Where, Mr. Ferdinand?” replied Gustavus, glancing up from a dish of tea and a couple of Worthing shrimps with which he was solacing an idle moment.