CHAPTER XII

THE ELABORATE MIND OF MISS MINERVA

On being shown, by an elderly housekeeper with a Berlin wool fringe, into an old-fashioned oval book-room, Lady Enid and the Prophet discovered the astronomer sitting there tete-a-tete with a muffin, which lay on a china plate surrounded by manuscripts, letters, pamphlets, books and blotting-paper.  He was engaged in tracing lines upon an immense sheet of foolscap with the aid of a ruler and a pair of compasses, and when he perceived his visitors, he merely rolled his glassy eyes at them, shook his large head as if in rebuke, and then returned to his occupation without uttering a word.

Lady Enid was in nowise abashed.  She looked more sensible even than usual, and at once commenced her campaign by the remark,—­

“I know you wonder why I wanted to see you this afternoon, Sir Tiglath.  Well, I’ll tell you at once.  Mr. Vivian has persuaded me to act as his ambassador.”

At this very unexpected statement the Prophet started, and was about to utter what might, perhaps, have taken the form of a carefully-worded denial, when Lady Enid made a violent face at him, and proceeded, in a calm manner.

“He wishes you to do something for him, and he has confessed to me that he does not quite like to ask you himself.”

On hearing these words the Prophet’s brain, already sorely tried by the tragic duel which had taken place between himself and the couple who lived beside the Mouse, temporarily collapsed.  He attempted no protest.  His mind indeed was not in a condition to invent one.  He simply sat down on a small pile of astronomical instruments which, with some scientific works, an encyclopaedia and a pair of carpet slippers, occupied the nearest chair, and waited in a dazed manner for what would happen next.

Sir Tiglath continued measuring and drawing lines with a very thin pen, and Lady Enid proceeded further to develop her campaign.

“Mr. Vivian tells me,” she said, “that he has a very old and dear friend who is most anxious to make your acquaintance—­not, of course, for any idle social purpose, but in order to consult you on some obscure point connected with astronomy that only you can render clear.  Isn’t this so, Mr. Vivian?”

The Prophet shifted uneasily on the astronomical instruments, and, grasping the carpet slippers with one hand to steady himself, in answer to an authoritative sign from Lady Enid, feebly nodded his head.

“But,” Lady Enid continued, apparently warming to her lies, “Mr. Vivian and his friend, knowing how much your time is taken up by astronomical research and how intensely valuable it is to the world at large, have not hitherto dared to intrude upon it, although they have wished to do so for a very long time, and have even made one attempt—­at the Colley Cibber Club.”

The Prophet gasped.  Sir Tiglath took a bit out of the muffin and returned to his tracing and measuring.