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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/30689-8.txt b/30689-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..63d88ae --- /dev/null +++ b/30689-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8736 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Brass Bottle, by F. Anstey + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Brass Bottle + + +Author: F. Anstey + + + +Release Date: December 16, 2009 [eBook #30689] +[Last updated: April 13, 2011] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BRASS BOTTLE*** + + +E-text prepared by David Clarke, Martin Pettit, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) + + + +THE BRASS BOTTLE + +by + +F. ANSTEY + +First Published, October, 1900 + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER PAGE + + I. HORACE VENTIMORE RECEIVES A COMMISSION 1 + + II. A CHEAP LOT 12 + + III. AN UNEXPECTED OPENING 18 + + IV. AT LARGE 31 + + V. CARTE BLANCHE 36 + + VI. EMBARRAS DE RICHESSES 51 + + VII. "GRATITUDE--A LIVELY SENSE OF FAVOURS TO COME" 62 + + VIII. BACHELOR'S QUARTERS 75 + + IX. "PERSICOS ODI, PUER, APPARATUS" 85 + + X. NO PLACE LIKE HOME! 107 + + XI. A FOOL'S PARADISE 115 + + XII. THE MESSENGER OF HOPE 132 + + XIII. A CHOICE OF EVILS 143 + + XIV. "SINCE THERE'S NO HELP, COME, LET US KISS + AND PART!" 158 + + XV. BLUSHING HONOURS 174 + + XVI. A KILLING FROST 182 + + XVII. HIGH WORDS 193 + +XVIII. A GAME OF BLUFF 204 + + THE EPILOGUE 222 + + + + +THE BRASS BOTTLE + + + + +CHAPTER I + +HORACE VENTIMORE RECEIVES A COMMISSION + + +"This day six weeks--just six weeks ago!" Horace Ventimore said, half +aloud, to himself, and pulled out his watch. "Half-past twelve--what was +I doing at half-past twelve?" + +As he sat at the window of his office in Great Cloister Street, +Westminster, he made his thoughts travel back to a certain glorious +morning in August which now seemed so remote and irrecoverable. At this +precise time he was waiting on the balcony of the Hôtel de la Plage--the +sole hostelry of St. Luc-en-Port, the tiny Normandy watering-place upon +which, by some happy inspiration, he had lighted during a solitary +cycling tour--waiting until She should appear. + +He could see the whole scene: the tiny cove, with the violet shadow of +the cliff sleeping on the green water; the swell of the waves lazily +lapping against the diving-board from which he had plunged half an hour +before; he remembered the long swim out to the buoy; the exhilarated +anticipation with which he had dressed and climbed the steep path to the +hotel terrace. + +For was he not to pass the whole remainder of that blissful day in +Sylvia Futvoye's society? Were they not to cycle together (there were, +of course, others of the party--but they did not count), to cycle over +to Veulettes, to picnic there under the cliff, and ride back--always +together--in the sweet-scented dusk, over the slopes, between the +poplars or the cornfields glowing golden against a sky of warm purple? + +Now he saw himself going round to the gravelled courtyard in front of +the hotel with a sudden dread of missing her. There was nothing there +but the little low cart, with its canvas tilt which was to convey +Professor Futvoye and his wife to the place of _rendezvous_. + +There was Sylvia at last, distractingly fair and fresh in her cool pink +blouse and cream-coloured skirt; how gracious and friendly and generally +delightful she had been throughout that unforgettable day, which was +supreme amongst others only a little less perfect, and all now fled for +ever! + +They had had drawbacks, it was true. Old Futvoye was perhaps the least +bit of a bore at times, with his interminable disquisitions on Egyptian +art and ancient Oriental character-writing, in which he seemed convinced +that Horace must feel a perfervid interest, as, indeed, he thought it +politic to affect. The Professor was a most learned archæologist, and +positively bulged with information on his favourite subjects; but it is +just possible that Horace might have been less curious concerning the +distinction between Cuneiform and Aramæan or Kufic and Arabic +inscriptions if his informant had happened to be the father of anybody +else. However, such insincerities as these are but so many evidences of +sincerity. + +So with self-tormenting ingenuity Horace conjured up various pictures +from that Norman holiday of his: the little half-timbered cottages with +their faded blue shutters and the rushes growing out of their thatch +roofs; the spires of village churches gleaming above the bronze-green +beeches; the bold headlands, their ochre and yellow cliffs contrasting +grimly with the soft ridges of the turf above them; the tethered +black-and-white cattle grazing peacefully against a background of lapis +lazuli and malachite sea, and in every scene the sensation of Sylvia's +near presence, the sound of her voice in his ears. And now?... He looked +up from the papers and tracing-cloth on his desk, and round the small +panelled room which served him as an office, at the framed plans and +photographs, the set squares and T squares on the walls, and felt a dull +resentment against his surroundings. From his window he commanded a +cheerful view of a tall, mouldering wall, once part of the Abbey +boundaries, surmounted by _chevaux-de-frise_, above whose +rust-attenuated spikes some plane trees stretched their yellowing +branches. + +"She would have come to care for me," Horace's thoughts ran on, +disjointedly. "I could have sworn that that last day of all--and her +people didn't seem to object to me. Her mother asked me cordially enough +to call on them when they were back in town. When I did----" + +When he had called, there had been a difference--not an unusual sequel +to an acquaintanceship begun in a Continental watering-place. It was +difficult to define, but unmistakable--a certain formality and +constraint on Mrs. Futvoye's part, and even on Sylvia's, which seemed +intended to warn him that it is not every friendship that survives the +Channel passage. So he had gone away sore at heart, but fully +recognising that any advances in future must come from their side. They +might ask him to dinner, or at least to call again; but more than a +month had passed, and they had made no sign. No, it was all over; he +must consider himself dropped. + +"After all," he told himself, with a short and anything but mirthful +laugh, "it's natural enough. Mrs. Futvoye has probably been making +inquiries about my professional prospects. It's better as it is. What +earthly chance have I got of marrying unless I can get work of my own? +It's all I can do to keep myself decently. I've no right to dream of +asking any one--to say nothing of Sylvia--to marry me. I should only be +rushing into temptation if I saw any more of her. She's not for a poor +beggar like me, who was born unlucky. Well, whining won't do any +good--let's have a look at Beevor's latest performance." + +He spread out a large coloured plan, in a corner of which appeared the +name of "William Beevor, Architect," and began to study it in a spirit +of anything but appreciation. + +"Beevor gets on," he said to himself. "Heaven knows that I don't grudge +him his success. He's a good fellow--though he _does_ build +architectural atrocities, and seem to like 'em. Who am I to give myself +airs? He's successful--I'm not. Yet if I only had his opportunities, +what wouldn't I make of them!" + +Let it be said here that this was not the ordinary self-delusion of an +incompetent. Ventimore really had talent above the average, with ideals +and ambitions which might under better conditions have attained +recognition and fulfilment before this. + +But he was not quite energetic enough, besides being too proud, to push +himself into notice, and hitherto he had met with persistent ill-luck. + +So Horace had no other occupation now but to give Beevor, whose offices +and clerk he shared, such slight assistance as he might require, and it +was by no means cheering to feel that every year of this enforced +semi-idleness left him further handicapped in the race for wealth and +fame, for he had already passed his twenty-eighth birthday. + +If Miss Sylvia Futvoye had indeed felt attracted towards him at one time +it was not altogether incomprehensible. Horace Ventimore was not a model +of manly beauty--models of manly beauty are rare out of novels, and +seldom interesting in them; but his clear-cut, clean-shaven face +possessed a certain distinction, and if there were faint satirical lines +about the mouth, they were redeemed by the expression of the grey-blue +eyes, which were remarkably frank and pleasant. He was well made, and +tall enough to escape all danger of being described as short; +fair-haired and pale, without being unhealthily pallid, in complexion, +and he gave the impression of being a man who took life as it came, and +whose sense of humour would serve as a lining for most clouds that might +darken his horizon. + +There was a rap at the door which communicated with Beevor's office, and +Beevor himself, a florid, thick-set man, with small side-whiskers, burst +in. + +"I say, Ventimore, you didn't run off with the plans for that house I'm +building at Larchmere, did you? Because--ah, I see you're looking over +them. Sorry to deprive you, but----" + +"Thanks, old fellow, take them, by all means. I've seen all I wanted to +see." + +"Well, I'm just off to Larchmere now. Want to be there to check the +quantities, and there's my other house at Fittlesdon. I must go on +afterwards and set it out, so I shall probably be away some days. I'm +taking Harrison down, too. You won't be wanting him, eh?" + +Ventimore laughed. "I can manage to do nothing without a clerk to help +me. Your necessity is greater than mine. Here are the plans." + +"I'm rather pleased with 'em myself, you know," said Beevor; "that roof +ought to look well, eh? Good idea of mine lightening the slate with that +ornamental tile-work along the top. You saw I put in one of your windows +with just a trifling addition. I was almost inclined to keep both gables +alike, as you suggested, but it struck me a little variety--one red +brick and the other 'parged'--would be more out-of-the-way." + +"Oh, much," agreed Ventimore, knowing that to disagree was useless. + +"Not, mind you," continued Beevor, "that I believe in going in for too +much originality in domestic architecture. The average client no more +wants an original house than he wants an original hat; he wants +something he won't feel a fool in. I've often thought, old man, that +perhaps the reason why you haven't got on----you don't mind my speaking +candidly, do you?" + +"Not a bit," said Ventimore, cheerfully. "Candour's the cement of +friendship. Dab it on." + +"Well, I was only going to say that you do yourself no good by all those +confoundedly unconventional ideas of yours. If you had your chance +to-morrow, it's my belief you'd throw it away by insisting on some +fantastic fad or other." + +"These speculations are a trifle premature, considering that there +doesn't seem the remotest prospect of my ever getting a chance at all." + +"I got mine before I'd set up six months," said Beevor. "The great +thing, however," he went on, with a flavour of personal application, "is +to know how to use it when it _does_ come. Well, I must be off if I mean +to catch that one o'clock from Waterloo. You'll see to anything that may +come in for me while I'm away, won't you, and let me know? Oh, by the +way, the quantity surveyor has just sent in the quantities for that +schoolroom at Woodford--do you mind running through them and seeing +they're right? And there's the specification for the new wing at +Tusculum Lodge--you might draft that some time when you've nothing else +to do. You'll find all the papers on my desk. Thanks awfully, old chap." + +And Beevor hurried back to his own room, where for the next few minutes +he could be heard bustling Harrison, the clerk, to make haste; then a +hansom was whistled for, there were footsteps down the old stairs, the +sounds of a departing vehicle on the uneven stones, and after that +silence and solitude. + +It was not in Nature to avoid feeling a little envious. Beevor had work +to do in the world: even if it chiefly consisted in profaning sylvan +retreats by smug or pretentious villas, it was still work which +entitled him to consideration and respect in the eyes of all +right-minded persons. + +And nobody believed in Horace; as yet he had never known the +satisfaction of seeing the work of his brain realised in stone and brick +and mortar; no building stood anywhere to bear testimony to his +existence and capability long after he himself should have passed away. + +It was not a profitable train of thought, and, to escape from it, he +went into Beevor's room and fetched the documents he had mentioned--at +least they would keep him occupied until it was time to go to his club +and lunch. He had no sooner settled down to his calculations, however, +when he heard a shuffling step on the landing, followed by a knock at +Beevor's office-door. "More work for Beevor," he thought; "what luck the +fellow has! I'd better go in and explain that he's just left town on +business." + +But on entering the adjoining room he heard the knocking repeated--this +time at his own door; and hastening back to put an end to this somewhat +undignified form of hide-and-seek, he discovered that this visitor at +least was legitimately his, and was, in fact, no other than Professor +Anthony Futvoye himself. + +The Professor was standing in the doorway peering short-sightedly +through his convex glasses, his head protruded from his loosely-fitting +great-coat with an irresistible suggestion of an inquiring tortoise. To +Horace his appearance was more welcome than that of the wealthiest +client--for why should Sylvia's father take the trouble to pay him this +visit unless he still wished to continue the acquaintanceship? It might +even be that he was the bearer of some message or invitation. + +So, although to an impartial eye the Professor might not seem the kind +of elderly gentleman whose society would produce any wild degree of +exhilaration, Horace was unfeignedly delighted to see him. + +"Extremely kind of you to come and see me like this, sir," he said +warmly, after establishing him in the solitary armchair reserved for +hypothetical clients. + +"Not at all. I'm afraid your visit to Cottesmore Gardens some time ago +was somewhat of a disappointment." + +"A disappointment?" echoed Horace, at a loss to know what was coming +next. + +"I refer to the fact--which possibly, however, escaped your +notice"--explained the Professor, scratching his scanty patch of +grizzled whisker with a touch of irascibility, "that I myself was not at +home on that occasion." + +"Indeed, I was greatly disappointed," said Horace, "though of course I +know how much you are engaged. It's all the more good of you to spare +time to drop in for a chat just now." + +"I've not come to chat, Mr. Ventimore. I never chat. I wanted to see you +about a matter which I thought you might be so obliging as to---- But I +observe you are busy--probably too busy to attend to such a small +affair." + +It was clear enough now; the Professor was going to build, and had +decided--could it be at Sylvia's suggestion?--to entrust the work to +him! But he contrived to subdue any self-betraying eagerness, and reply +(as he could with perfect truth) that he had nothing on hand just then +which he could not lay aside, and that if the Professor would let him +know what he required, he would take it up at once. + +"So much the better," said the Professor; "so much the better. Both my +wife and daughter declared that it was making far too great a demand +upon your good nature; but, as I told them, 'I am much mistaken,' I +said, 'if Mr. Ventimore's practice is so extensive that he cannot leave +it for one afternoon----'" + +Evidently it was not a house. Could he be needed to escort them +somewhere that afternoon? Even that was more than he had hoped for a few +minutes since. He hastened to repeat that he was perfectly free that +afternoon. + +"In that case," said the Professor, beginning to fumble in all his +pockets--was he searching for a note in Sylvia's handwriting?--"in that +case, you will be conferring a real favour on me if you can make it +convenient to attend a sale at Hammond's Auction Rooms in Covent Garden, +and just bid for one or two articles on my behalf." + +Whatever disappointment Ventimore felt, it may be said to his credit +that he allowed no sign of it to appear. "Of course I'll go, with +pleasure," he said, "if I can be of any use." + +"I knew I shouldn't come to you in vain," said the Professor. "I +remembered your wonderful good nature, sir, in accompanying my wife and +daughter on all sorts of expeditions in the blazing hot weather we had +at St. Luc--when you might have remained quietly at the hotel with me. +Not that I should trouble you now, only I have to lunch at the Oriental +Club, and I've an appointment afterwards to examine and report on a +recently-discovered inscribed cylinder for the Museum, which will fully +occupy the rest of the afternoon, so that it's physically impossible for +me to go to Hammond's myself, and I strongly object to employing a +broker when I can avoid it. Where did I put that catalogue?... Ah, here +it is. This was sent to me by the executors of my old friend, General +Collingham, who died the other day. I met him at Nakada when I was out +excavating some years ago. He was something of a collector in his way, +though he knew very little about it, and, of course, was taken in right +and left. Most of his things are downright rubbish, but there are just a +few lots that are worth securing, at a reasonable figure, by some one +who knew what he was about." + +"But, my dear Professor," remonstrated Horace, not relishing this +responsibility, "I'm afraid I'm as likely as not to pick up some of the +rubbish. I've no special knowledge of Oriental curios." + +"At St. Luc," said the Professor, "you impressed me as having, for an +amateur, an exceptionally accurate and comprehensive acquaintance with +Egyptian and Arabian art from the earliest period." (If this were so, +Horace could only feel with shame what a fearful humbug he must have +been.) "However, I've no wish to lay too heavy a burden on you, and, as +you will see from this catalogue, I have ticked off the lots in which I +am chiefly interested, and made a note of the limit to which I am +prepared to bid, so you'll have no difficulty." + +"Very well," said Horace; "I'll go straight to Covent Garden, and slip +out and get some lunch later on." + +"Well, perhaps, if you don't mind. The lots I have marked seem to come +on at rather frequent intervals, but don't let that consideration deter +you from getting your lunch, and if you _should_ miss anything by not +being on the spot, why, it's of no consequence, though I don't say it +mightn't be a pity. In any case, you won't forget to mark what each lot +fetches, and perhaps you wouldn't mind dropping me a line when you +return the catalogue--or stay, could you look in some time after dinner +this evening, and let me know how you got on?--that would be better." + +Horace thought it would be decidedly better, and undertook to call and +render an account of his stewardship that evening. There remained the +question of a deposit, should one or more of the lots be knocked down to +him; and, as he was obliged to own that he had not so much as ten pounds +about him at that particular moment, the Professor extracted a note for +that amount from his case, and handed it to him with the air of a +benevolent person relieving a deserving object. "Don't exceed my +limits," he said, "for I can't afford more just now; and mind you give +Hammond your own name, not mine. If the dealers get to know I'm after +the things, they'll run you up. And now, I don't think I need detain you +any longer, especially as time is running on. I'm sure I can trust you +to do the best you can for me. Till this evening, then." + +A few minutes later Horace was driving up to Covent Garden behind the +best-looking horse he could pick out. + +The Professor might have required from him rather more than was strictly +justified by their acquaintanceship, and taken his acquiescence too much +as a matter of course--but what of that? After all, he was Sylvia's +parent. + +"Even with _my_ luck," he was thinking, "I ought to succeed in getting +at least one or two of the lots he's marked; and if I can only please +him, something may come of it." + +And in this sanguine mood Horace entered Messrs. Hammond's well-known +auction rooms. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +A CHEAP LOT + + +In spite of the fact that it was the luncheon hour when Ventimore +reached Hammond's Auction Rooms, he found the big, skylighted gallery +where the sale of the furniture and effects of the late General +Collingham was proceeding crowded to a degree which showed that the +deceased officer had some reputation as a _connoisseur_. + +The narrow green baize tables below the auctioneer's rostrum were +occupied by professional dealers, one or two of them women, who sat, +paper and pencil in hand, with much the same air of apparent apathy and +real vigilance that may be noticed in the Casino at Monte Carlo. Around +them stood a decorous and businesslike crowd, mostly dealers, of various +types. On a magisterial-looking bench sat the auctioneer, conducting the +sale with a judicial impartiality and dignity which forbade him, even in +his most laudatory comments, the faintest accent of enthusiasm. + +The October sunshine, striking through the glazed roof, re-gilded the +tarnished gas-stars, and suffused the dusty atmosphere with palest gold. +But somehow the utter absence of excitement in the crowd, the calm, +methodical tone of the auctioneer, and the occasional mournful cry of +"Lot here, gentlemen!" from the porter when any article was too large to +move, all served to depress Ventimore's usually mercurial spirits. + +For all Horace knew, the collection as a whole might be of little value, +but it very soon became clear that others besides Professor Futvoye had +singled out such gems as there were, also that the Professor had +considerably under-rated the prices they were likely to fetch. + +Ventimore made his bids with all possible discretion, but time after +time he found the competition for some perforated mosque lantern, +engraved ewer, or ancient porcelain tile so great that his limit was +soon reached, and his sole consolation was that the article eventually +changed hands for sums which were very nearly double the Professor's +estimate. + +Several dealers and brokers, despairing of a bargain that day, left, +murmuring profanities; most of those who remained ceased to take a +serious interest in the proceedings, and consoled themselves with cheap +witticisms at every favourable occasion. + +The sale dragged slowly on, and, what with continual disappointment and +want of food, Horace began to feel so weary that he was glad, as the +crowd thinned, to get a seat at one of the green baize tables, by which +time the skylights had already changed from livid grey to slate colour +in the deepening dusk. + +A couple of meek Burmese Buddhas had just been put up, and bore the +indignity of being knocked down for nine-and-sixpence the pair with +dreamy, inscrutable simpers; Horace only waited for the final lot marked +by the Professor--an old Persian copper bowl, inlaid with silver and +engraved round the rim with an inscription from Hafiz. + +The limit to which he was authorised to go was two pounds ten; but, so +desperately anxious was Ventimore not to return empty-handed, that he +had made up his mind to bid an extra sovereign if necessary, and say +nothing about it. + +However, the bowl was put up, and the bidding soon rose to three pounds +ten, four pounds, four pounds ten, five pounds, five guineas, for which +last sum it was acquired by a bearded man on Horace's right, who +immediately began to regard his purchase with a more indulgent eye. + +Ventimore had done his best, and failed; there was no reason now why he +should stay a moment longer--and yet he sat on, from sheer fatigue and +disinclination to move. + +"Now we come to Lot 254, gentlemen," he heard the auctioneer saying, +mechanically; "a capital Egyptian mummy-case in fine con---- No, I beg +pardon, I'm wrong. This is an article which by some mistake has been +omitted from the catalogue, though it ought to have been in it. +Everything on sale to-day, gentlemen, belonged to the late General +Collingham. We'll call this No. 253_a_. Antique brass bottle. Very +curious." + +One of the porters carried the bottle in between the tables, and set it +down before the dealers at the farther end with a tired nonchalance. + +It was an old, squat, pot-bellied vessel, about two feet high, with a +long thick neck, the mouth of which was closed by a sort of metal +stopper or cap; there was no visible decoration on its sides, which were +rough and pitted by some incrustation that had formed on them, and been +partially scraped off. As a piece of _bric-à-brac_ it certainly +possessed few attractions, and there was a marked tendency to "guy" it +among the more frivolous brethren. + +"What do you call this, sir?" inquired one of the auctioneer, with the +manner of a cheeky boy trying to get a rise out of his form-master. "Is +it as 'unique' as the others?" + +"You're as well able to judge as I am," was the guarded reply. "Any one +can see for himself it's not modern rubbish." + +"Make a pretty little ornament for the mantelpiece!" remarked a wag. + +"Is the top made to unscrew, or what, sir?" asked a third. "Seems fixed +on pretty tight." + +"I can't say. Probably it has not been removed for some time." + +"It's a goodish weight," said the chief humorist, after handling it. +"What's inside of it, sir--sardines?" + +"I don't represent it as having anything inside it," said the +auctioneer. "If you want to know my opinion, I think there's money in +it." + +"'Ow much?" + +"Don't misunderstand me, gentlemen. When I say I consider there's money +in it, I'm not alluding to its contents. I've no reason to believe that +it contains anything. I'm merely suggesting the thing itself may be +worth more than it looks." + +"Ah, it might be _that_ without 'urting itself!" + +"Well, well, don't let us waste time. Look upon it as a pure +speculation, and make me an offer for it, some of you. Come." + +"Tuppence-'ap'ny!" cried the comic man, affecting to brace himself for a +mighty effort. + +"Pray be serious, gentlemen. We want to get on, you know. Anything to +make a start. Five shillings? It's not the value of the metal, but I'll +take the bid. Six. Look at it well. It's not an article you come across +every day of your lives." + +The bottle was still being passed round with disrespectful raps and +slaps, and it had now come to Ventimore's right-hand neighbour, who +scrutinised it carefully, but made no bid. + +"That's all _right_, you know," he whispered in Horace's ear. "That's +good stuff, that is. If I was you, I'd _'ave_ that." + +"Seven shillings--eight--nine bid for it over there in the corner," said +the auctioneer. + +"If you think it's so good, why don't you have it yourself?" Horace +asked his neighbour. + +"Me? Oh, well, it ain't exactly in my line, and getting this last lot +pretty near cleaned me out. I've done for to-day, I 'ave. All the same, +it is a curiosity; dunno as I've seen a brass vawse just that shape +before, and it's genuine old, though all these fellers are too ignorant +to know the value of it. So I don't mind giving you the tip." + +Horace rose, the better to examine the top. As far as he could make out +in the flickering light of one of the gas-stars, which the auctioneer +had just ordered to be lit, there were half-erased scratches and +triangular marks on the cap that might possibly be an inscription. If +so, might there not be the means here of regaining the Professor's +favour, which he felt that, as it was, he should probably forfeit, +justly or not, by his ill-success? + +He could hardly spend the Professor's money on it, since it was not in +the catalogue, and he had no authority to bid for it, but he had a few +shillings of his own to spare. Why not bid for it on his own account as +long as he could afford to do so? If he were outbid, as usual, it would +not particularly matter. + +"Thirteen shillings," the auctioneer was saying, in his dispassionate +tones. Horace caught his eye, and slightly raised his catalogue, while +another man nodded at the same time. "Fourteen in two places." Horace +raised his catalogue again. "I won't go beyond fifteen," he thought. + +"Fifteen. It's _against_ you, sir. Any advance on fifteen? Sixteen--this +very quaint old Oriental bottle going for only sixteen shillings. + +"After all," thought Horace, "I don't mind anything under a pound for +it." And he bid seventeen shillings. "Eighteen," cried his rival, a +short, cheery, cherub-faced little dealer, whose neighbours adjured him +to "sit quiet like a good little boy and not waste his pocket-money." + +"Nineteen!" said Horace. "Pound!" answered the cherubic man. + +"A pound only bid for this grand brass vessel," said the auctioneer, +indifferently. "All done at a pound?" + +Horace thought another shilling or two would not ruin him, and nodded. + +"A guinea. For the last time. You'll _lose_ it, sir," said the +auctioneer to the little man. + +"Go on, Tommy. Don't you be beat. Spring another bob on it, Tommy," his +friends advised him ironically; but Tommy shook his head, with the air +of a man who knows when to draw the line. "One guinea--and that's not +half its value! Gentleman on my left," said the auctioneer, more in +sorrow than in anger--and the brass bottle became Ventimore's property. + +He paid for it, and, since he could hardly walk home nursing a large +metal bottle without attracting an inconvenient amount of attention, +directed that it should be sent to his lodgings at Vincent Square. + +But when he was out in the fresh air, walking westward to his club, he +found himself wondering more and more what could have possessed him to +throw away a guinea--when he had few enough for legitimate expenses--on +an article of such exceedingly problematical value. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +AN UNEXPECTED OPENING + + +Ventimore made his way to Cottesmore Gardens that evening in a highly +inconsistent, not to say chaotic, state of mind. The thought that he +would presently see Sylvia again made his blood course quicker, while he +was fully determined to say no more to her than civility demanded. + +At one moment he was blessing Professor Futvoye for his happy thought in +making use of him; at another he was bitterly recognising that it would +have been better for his peace of mind if he had been left alone. Sylvia +and her mother had no desire to see more of him; if they had, they would +have asked him to come before this. No doubt they would tolerate him now +for the Professor's sake; but who would not rather be ignored than +tolerated? + +The more often he saw Sylvia the more she would make his heart ache with +vain longing--whereas he was getting almost reconciled to her +indifference; he would very soon be cured if he didn't see her. + +Why _should_ he see her? He need not go in at all. He had merely to +leave the catalogue with his compliments, and the Professor would learn +all he wanted to know. + +On second thoughts he must go in--if only to return the bank-note. But +he would ask to see the Professor in private. Most probably he would not +be invited to join his wife and daughter, but if he were, he could make +some excuse. They might think it a little odd--a little discourteous, +perhaps; but they would be too relieved to care much about that. + +When he got to Cottesmore Gardens, and was actually at the door of the +Futvoyes' house, one of the neatest and demurest in that retired and +irreproachable quarter, he began to feel a craven hope that the +Professor might be out, in which case he need only leave the catalogue +and write a letter when he got home, reporting his non-success at the +sale, and returning the note. + +And, as it happened, the Professor _was_ out, and Horace was not so glad +as he thought he should be. The maid told him that the ladies were in +the drawing-room, and seemed to take it for granted that he was coming +in, so he had himself announced. He would not stay long--just long +enough to explain his business there, and make it clear that he had no +wish to force his acquaintance upon them. He found Mrs. Futvoye in the +farther part of the pretty double drawing-room, writing letters, and +Sylvia, more dazzlingly fair than ever in some sort of gauzy black frock +with a heliotrope sash and a bunch of Parma violets on her breast, was +comfortably established with a book in the front room, and seemed +surprised, if not resentful, at having to disturb herself. + +"I must apologise," he began, with an involuntary stiffness, "for +calling at this very unceremonious time; but the fact is, the +Professor----" + +"I know all about it," interrupted Mrs. Futvoye, brusquely, while her +shrewd, light-grey eyes took him in with a cool stare that was +humorously observant without being aggressive. "We heard how shamefully +my husband abused your good-nature. Really, it was too bad of him to ask +a busy man like you to put aside his work and go and spend a whole day +at that stupid auction!" + +"Oh, I'd nothing particular to do. I can't call myself a busy +man--unfortunately," said Horace, with that frankness which scorns to +conceal what other people know perfectly well already. + +"Ah, well, it's very nice of you to make light of it; but he ought not +to have done it--after so short an acquaintance, too. And to make it +worse, he has had to go out unexpectedly this evening, but he'll be back +before very long if you don't mind waiting." + +"There's really no need to wait," said Horace, "because this catalogue +will tell him everything, and, as the particular things he wanted went +for much more than he thought, I wasn't able to get any of them." + +"I'm sure I'm very glad of it," said Mrs. Futvoye, "for his study is +crammed with odds and ends as it is, and I don't want the whole house to +look like a museum or an antiquity shop. I'd all the trouble in the +world to persuade him that a great gaudy gilded mummy-case was not quite +the thing for a drawing-room. But, please sit down, Mr. Ventimore." + +"Thanks," stammered Horace, "but--but I mustn't stay. If you will tell +the Professor how sorry I was to miss him, and--and give him back this +note which he left with me to cover any deposit, I--I won't interrupt +you any longer." + +He was, as a rule, imperturbable in most social emergencies, but just +now he was seized with a wild desire to escape, which, to his infinite +mortification, made him behave like a shy schoolboy. + +"Nonsense!" said Mrs. Futvoye; "I am sure my husband would be most +annoyed if we didn't keep you till he came." + +"I really ought to go," he declared, wistfully enough. + +"We mustn't tease Mr. Ventimore to stay, mother, when he so evidently +wants to go," said Sylvia, cruelly. + +"Well, I won't detain you--at least, not long. I wonder if you would +mind posting a letter for me as you pass the pillar-box? I've almost +finished it, and it ought to go to-night, and my maid Jessie has such a +bad cold I really don't like sending her out with it." + +It would have been impossible to refuse to stay after that--even if he +had wished. It would only be for a few minutes. Sylvia might spare him +that much of her time. He should not trouble her again. So Mrs. Futvoye +went back to her bureau, and Sylvia and he were practically alone. + +She had taken a seat not far from his, and made a few constrained +remarks, obviously out of sheer civility. He returned mechanical +replies, with a dreary wonder whether this could really be the girl who +had talked to him with such charming friendliness and confidence only a +few weeks ago in Normandy. + +And the worst of it was, she was looking more bewitching than ever; her +slim arms gleaming through the black lace of her sleeves, and the gold +threads in her soft masses of chestnut hair sparkling in the light of +the shaded lamp behind her. The slight contraction of her eyebrows and +the mutinous downward curve of her mouth seemed expressive of boredom. + +"What a dreadfully long time mamma is over that letter!" she said at +last. "I think I'd better go and hurry her up." + +"Please don't--unless you are particularly anxious to get rid of me." + +"I thought you seemed particularly anxious to escape," she said coldly. +"And, as a family, we have certainly taken up quite enough of your time +for one day." + +"That is not the way you used to talk at St. Luc!" he said. + +"At St. Luc? Perhaps not. But in London everything is so different, you +see." + +"Very different." + +"When one meets people abroad who--who seem at all inclined to be +sociable," she continued, "one is so apt to think them pleasanter than +they really are. Then one meets them again, and--and wonders what one +ever saw to like in them. And it's no use pretending one feels the same, +because they generally understand sooner or later. Don't you find that?" + +"I do, indeed," he said, wincing, "though I don't know what I've done to +deserve that you should tell me so!" + +"Oh, I was not blaming you. You have been most angelic. I can't think +how papa could have expected you to take all that trouble for +him--still, you did, though you must have simply hated it." + +"But, good heavens! don't you know I should be only too delighted to be +of the least service to him--or to any of you?" + +"You looked anything but delighted when you came in just now; you looked +as if your one idea was to get it over as soon as you could. You know +perfectly well you're longing now for mother to finish her letter and +set you free. Do you really think I can't see that?" + +"If all that is true, or partly true," said Horace, "can't you guess +why?" + +"I guessed how it was when you called here first that afternoon. Mamma +had asked you to, and you thought you might as well be civil; perhaps +you really did think it would be pleasant to see us again--but it wasn't +the same thing. Oh, I saw it in your face directly--you became +conventional and distant and horrid, and it made me horrid too; and you +went away determined that you wouldn't see any more of us than you could +help. That's why I was so furious when I heard that papa had been to see +you, and with such an object." + +All this was so near the truth, and yet missed it with such perverse +ingenuity, that Horace felt bound to put himself right. + +"Perhaps I ought to leave things as they are," he said, "but I can't. +It's no earthly use, I know; but may I tell you why it really was +painful to me to meet you again? I thought _you_ were changed, that you +wished to forget, and wished me to forget--only I can't--that we had +been friends for a short time. And though I never blamed you--it was +natural enough--it hit me pretty hard--so hard that I didn't feel +anxious to repeat the experience." + +"Did it hit you hard?" said Sylvia, softly. "Perhaps I minded too, just +a very little. However," she added, with a sudden smile, that made two +enchanting dimples in her cheeks, "it only shows how much more sensible +it is to have things out. _Now_ perhaps you won't persist in keeping +away from us?" + +"I believe," said Horace, gloomily, still determined not to let any +direct avowal pass his lips, "it would be best that I _should_ keep +away." + +Her half-closed eyes shone through their long lashes; the violets on her +breast rose and fell. "I don't think I understand," she said, in a tone +that was both hurt and offended. + +There is a pleasure in yielding to some temptations that more than +compensates for the pain of any previous resistance. Come what might, he +was not going to be misunderstood any longer. + +"If I must tell you," he said, "I've fallen desperately, hopelessly, in +love with you. Now you know the reason." + +"It doesn't seem a very good reason for wanting to go away and never see +me again. _Does_ it?" + +"Not when I've no right to speak to you of love?" + +"But you've done that!" + +"I know," he said penitently; "I couldn't help it. But I never meant to. +It slipped out. I quite understand how hopeless it is." + +"Of course, if you are so sure as all that, you are quite right not to +try." + +"Sylvia! You can't mean that--that you do care, after all?" + +"Didn't you really see?" she said, with a low, happy laugh. "How stupid +of you! And how dear!" + +He caught her hand, which she allowed to rest contentedly in his. "Oh, +Sylvia! Then you do--you do! But, my God, what a selfish brute I am! For +we can't marry. It may be years before I can ask you to come to me. You +father and mother wouldn't hear of your being engaged to me." + +"_Need_ they hear of it just yet, Horace?" + +"Yes, they must. I should feel a cur if I didn't tell your mother, at +all events." + +"Then you shan't feel a cur, for we'll go and tell her together." And +Sylvia rose and went into the farther room, and put her arms round her +mother's neck. "Mother darling," she said, in a half whisper, "it's +really all your fault for writing such very long letters, but--but--we +don't exactly know how we came to do it--but Horace and I have got +engaged somehow. You aren't _very_ angry, are you?" + +"I think you're both extremely foolish," said Mrs. Futvoye, as she +extricated herself from Sylvia's arms and turned to face Horace. "From +all I hear, Mr. Ventimore, you're not in a position to marry at +present." + +"Unfortunately, no" said Horace; "I'm making nothing as yet. But my +chance must come some day. I don't ask you to give me Sylvia till then." + +"And you know you like Horace, mother!" pleaded Sylvia. "And I'm ready +to wait for him, any time. Nothing will induce me to give him up, and I +shall never, never care for anybody else. So you see you may just as +well give us your consent!" + +"I'm afraid I've been to blame," said Mrs. Futvoye. "I ought to have +foreseen this at St. Luc. Sylvia is our only child, Mr. Ventimore, and I +would far rather see her happily married than making what is called a +'grand match.' Still, this really does seem _rather_ hopeless. I am +quite sure her father would never approve of it. Indeed, it must not be +mentioned to him--he would only be irritated." + +"So long as you are not against us," said Horace, "you won't forbid me +to see her?" + +"I believe I ought to," said Mrs. Futvoye; "but I don't object to your +coming here occasionally, as an ordinary visitor. Only understand +this--until you can prove to my husband's satisfaction that you are able +to support Sylvia in the manner she has been accustomed to, there must +be no formal engagement. I think I am entitled to ask _that_ of you." + +She was so clearly within her rights, and so much more indulgent than +Horace had expected--for he had always considered her an unsentimental +and rather worldly woman--that he accepted her conditions almost +gratefully. After all, it was enough for him that Sylvia returned his +love, and that he should be allowed to see her from time to time. + +"It's rather a pity," said Sylvia, meditatively, a little later, when +her mother had gone back to her letter-writing, and she and Horace were +discussing the future; "it's rather a pity that you didn't manage to get +_something_ at that sale. It might have helped you with papa." + +"Well, I did get something on my own account," he said, "though I don't +know whether it is likely to do me any good with your father." And he +told her how he had come to acquire the brass bottle. + +"And you actually gave a guinea for it?" said Sylvia, "when you could +probably get exactly the same thing, only better, at Liberty's for about +seven-and-sixpence! Nothing of that sort has any charms for papa, unless +it's dirty and dingy and centuries old." + +"This looks all that. I only bought it because, though it wasn't down on +the catalogue, I had a fancy that it might interest the Professor." + +"Oh!" cried Sylvia, clasping her pretty hands, "if only it does, Horace! +If it turns out to be tremendously rare and valuable! I do believe dad +would be so delighted that he'd consent to anything. Ah, that's his step +outside ... he's letting himself in. Now mind you don't forget to tell +him about that bottle." + +The Professor did not seem in the sweetest of humours as he entered the +drawing-room. "Sorry I was obliged to be from home, and there was nobody +but my wife and daughter here to entertain you. But I am glad you +stayed--yes, I'm rather glad you stayed." + +"So am I, sir," said Horace, and proceeded to give his account of the +sale, which did not serve to improve the Professor's temper. He thrust +out his under lip at certain items in the catalogue. "I wish I'd gone +myself," he said; "that bowl, a really fine example of sixteenth-century +Persian work, going for only five guineas! I'd willingly have given ten +for it. There, there, I thought I could have depended on you to use your +judgment better than that!" + +"If you remember, sir, you strictly limited me to the sums you marked." + +"Nothing of the sort," said the Professor, testily; "my marginal notes +were merely intended as indications, no more. You might have known that +if you had secured one of the things at any price I should have +approved." + +Horace had no grounds for knowing anything of the kind, and much reason +for believing the contrary, but he saw no use in arguing the matter +further, and merely said he was sorry to have misunderstood. + +"No doubt the fault was mine," said the Professor, in a tone that +implied the opposite. "Still, making every allowance for inexperience in +these matters, I should have thought it impossible for any one to spend +a whole day bidding at a place like Hammond's without even securing a +single article." + +"But, dad," put in Sylvia, "Mr. Ventimore did get _one_ thing--on his +own account. It's a brass bottle, not down in the catalogue, but he +thinks it may be worth something perhaps. And he'd very much like to +have your opinion." + +"Tchah!" said the Professor. "Some modern bazaar work, most probably. +He'd better have kept his money. What was this bottle of yours like, +now, eh?" + +Horace described it. + +"H'm. Seems to be what the Arabs call a 'kum-kum,' probably used as a +sprinkler, or to hold rose-water. Hundreds of 'em about," commented the +Professor, crustily. + +"It had a lid, riveted or soldered on," said Horace; "the general shape +was something like this ..." And he made a rapid sketch from memory, +which the Professor took reluctantly, and then adjusted his glasses with +some increase of interest. + +"Ha--the form is antique, certainly. And the top hermetically fastened, +eh? That looks as if it might contain something." + +"You don't think it has a genie inside, like the sealed jar the +fisherman found in the 'Arabian Nights'?" cried Sylvia. "What fun if it +had!" + +"By genie, I presume you mean a _Jinnee_, which is the more correct and +scholarly term," said the Professor. "Female, _Jinneeyeh_, and plural +_Jinn_. No, I do _not_ contemplate that as a probable contingency. But +it is not quite impossible that a vessel closed as Mr. Ventimore +describes may have been designed as a receptacle for papyri or other +records of archæological interest, which may be still in preservation. I +should recommend you, sir, to use the greatest precaution in removing +the lid--don't expose the documents, if any, too suddenly to the outer +air, and it would be better if you did not handle them yourself. I shall +be rather curious to hear whether it really does contain anything, and +if so, what." + +"I will open it as carefully as possible," said Horace, "and whatever it +may contain, you may rely upon my letting you know at once." + +He left shortly afterwards, encouraged by the radiant trust in Sylvia's +eyes, and thrilled by the secret pressure of her hand at parting. + +He had been amply repaid for all the hours he had spent in the close +sale-room. His luck had turned at last: he was going to succeed; he felt +it in the air, as if he were already fanned by Fortune's pinions. + +Still thinking of Sylvia, he let himself into the semi-detached, +old-fashioned house on the north side of Vincent Square, where he had +lodged for some years. It was nearly twelve o'clock, and his landlady, +Mrs. Rapkin, and her husband had already gone to bed. + +Ventimore went up to his sitting-room, a comfortable apartment with two +long windows opening on to a trellised verandah and balcony--a room +which, as he had furnished and decorated it himself to suit his own +tastes, had none of the depressing ugliness of typical lodgings. + +It was quite dark, for the season was too mild for a fire, and he had to +grope for the matches before he could light his lamp. After he had done +so and turned up the wicks, the first object he saw was the bulbous, +long-necked jar which he had bought that afternoon, and which now stood +on the stained boards near the mantelpiece. It had been delivered with +unusual promptitude! + +Somehow he felt a sort of repulsion at the sight of it. "It's a +beastlier-looking object than I thought," he said to himself +disgustedly. "A chimney-pot would be about as decorative and appropriate +in my room. What a thundering ass I was to waste a guinea on it! I +wonder if there really is anything inside it. It is so infernally ugly +that it _ought_ to be useful. The Professor seemed to fancy it might +hold documents, and he ought to know. Anyway, I'll find out before I +turn in." + +He grasped it by its long, thick neck, and tried to twist the cap off; +but it remained firm, which was not surprising, seeing that it was +thickly coated with a lava-like crust. + +"I must get some of that off first, and then try again," he decided; and +after foraging downstairs, he returned with a hammer and chisel, with +which he chipped away the crust till the line of the cap was revealed, +and an uncouth metal knob that seemed to be a catch. + +This he tapped sharply for some time, and again attempted to wrench off +the lid. Then he gripped the vessel between his knees and put forth all +his strength, while the bottle seemed to rock and heave under him in +sympathy. The cap was beginning to give way, very slightly; one last +wrench--and it came off in his hand with such suddenness that he was +flung violently backwards, and hit the back of his head smartly against +an angle of the wainscot. + +He had a vague impression of the bottle lying on its side, with dense +volumes of hissing, black smoke pouring out of its mouth and towering up +in a gigantic column to the ceiling; he was conscious, too, of a pungent +and peculiarly overpowering perfume. "I've got hold of some sort of +infernal machine," he thought, "and I shall be all over the square in +less than a second!" And, just as he arrived at this cheerful +conclusion, he lost consciousness altogether. + +He could not have been unconscious for more than a few seconds, for when +he opened his eyes the room was still thick with smoke, through which he +dimly discerned the figure of a stranger, who seemed of abnormal and +almost colossal height. But this must have been an optical illusion +caused by the magnifying effects of the smoke; for, as it cleared, his +visitor proved to be of no more than ordinary stature. He was elderly, +and, indeed, venerable of appearance, and wore an Eastern robe and +head-dress of a dark-green hue. He stood there with uplifted hands, +uttering something in a loud tone and a language unknown to Horace. + +Ventimore, being still somewhat dazed, felt no surprise at seeing him. +Mrs. Rapkin must have let her second floor at last--to some Oriental. He +would have preferred an Englishman as a fellow-lodger, but this +foreigner must have noticed the smoke and rushed in to offer assistance, +which was both neighbourly and plucky of him. + +"Awfully good of you to come in, sir," he said, as he scrambled to his +feet. "I don't know what's happened exactly, but there's no harm done. +I'm only a trifle shaken, that's all. By the way, I suppose you can +speak English?" + +"Assuredly I can speak so as to be understood by all whom I address," +answered the stranger. + +"Dost thou not understand my speech?" + +"Perfectly, now," said Horace. "But you made a remark just now which I +didn't follow--would you mind repeating it?" + +"I said: 'Repentance, O Prophet of God! I will not return to the like +conduct ever.'" + +"Ah," said Horace. "I dare say you _were_ rather startled. So was I when +I opened that bottle." + +"Tell me--was it indeed thy hand that removed the seal, O young man of +kindness and good works?" + +"I certainly did open it," said Ventimore, "though I don't know where +the kindness comes in--for I've no notion what was inside the thing." + +"I was inside it," said the stranger, calmly. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +AT LARGE + + +"So _you_ were inside that bottle, were you?" said Horace, blandly. "How +singular!" He began to realise that he had to deal with an Oriental +lunatic, and must humour him to some extent. Fortunately he did not seem +at all dangerous, though undeniably eccentric-looking. His hair fell in +disorderly profusion from under his high turban about his cheeks, which +were of a uniform pale rhubarb tint; his grey beard streamed out in +three thin strands, and his long, narrow eyes, opal in hue, and set +rather wide apart and at a slight angle, had a curious expression, part +slyness and part childlike simplicity. + +"Dost thou doubt that I speak truth? I tell thee that I have been +confined in that accursed vessel for countless centuries--how long, I +know not, for it is beyond calculation." + +"I should hardly have thought from your appearance, sir, that you had +been so many years in bottle as all that," said Horace, politely, "but +it's certainly time you had a change. May I, if it isn't indiscreet, ask +how you came into such a very uncomfortable position? But probably you +have forgotten by this time." + +"Forgotten!" said the other, with a sombre red glow in his opal eyes. +"Wisely was it written: 'Let him that desireth oblivion confer +benefits--but the memory of an injury endureth for ever.' _I_ forget +neither benefits nor injuries." + +"An old gentleman with a grievance," thought Ventimore. "And mad into +the bargain. Nice person to have staying in the same house with one!" + +"Know, O best of mankind," continued the stranger, "that he who now +addresses thee is Fakrash-el-Aamash, one of the Green Jinn. And I dwelt +in the Palace of the Mountain of the Clouds above the City of Babel in +the Garden of Irem, which thou doubtless knowest by repute?" + +"I fancy I _have_ heard of it," said Horace, as if it were an address in +the Court Directory. "Delightful neighbourhood." + +"I had a kinswoman, Bedeea-el-Jemal, who possessed incomparable beauty +and manifold accomplishments. And seeing that, though a Jinneeyeh, she +was of the believing Jinn, I despatched messengers to Suleyman the +Great, the son of Daood, offering him her hand in marriage. But a +certain Jarjarees, the son of Rejmoos, the son of Iblees--may he be for +ever accursed!--looked with favour upon the maiden, and, going secretly +unto Suleyman, persuaded him that I was preparing a crafty snare for the +King's undoing." + +"And, of course, _you_ never thought of such a thing?" said Ventimore. + +"By a venomous tongue the fairest motives may be rendered foul," was the +somewhat evasive reply. "Thus it came to pass that Suleyman--on whom be +peace!--listened unto the voice of Jarjarees and refused to receive the +maiden. Moreover, he commanded that I should be seized and imprisoned in +a bottle of brass and cast into the Sea of El-Karkar, there to abide the +Day of Doom." + +"Too bad--really too bad!" murmured Horace, in a tone that he could only +hope was sufficiently sympathetic. + +"But now, by thy means, O thou of noble ancestors and gentle +disposition, my deliverance hath been accomplished; and if I were to +serve thee for a thousand years, regarding nothing else, even thus could +I not requite thee, and my so doing would be a small thing according to +thy desserts!" + +"Pray don't mention it," said Horace; "only too pleased if I've been of +any use to you." + +"In the sky it is written upon the pages of the air: 'He who doth kind +actions shall experience the like.' Am I not an Efreet of the Jinn? +Demand, therefore, and thou shalt receive." + +"Poor old chap!" thought Horace, "he's very cracked indeed. He'll be +wanting to give me a present of some sort soon--and of course I can't +have that.... My dear Mr. Fakrash," he said aloud, "I've done +nothing--nothing at all--and if I had, I couldn't possibly accept any +reward for it." + +"What are thy names, and what calling dost thou follow?" + +"I ought to have introduced myself before--let me give you my card;" and +Ventimore gave him one, which the other took and placed in his girdle. +"That's my business address. I'm an architect, if you know what that +is--a man who builds houses and churches--mosques, you know--in fact, +anything, when he can get it to build." + +"A useful calling indeed--and one to be rewarded with fine gold." + +"In my case," Horace confessed, "the reward has been too fine to be +perceived. In other words, I've never _been_ rewarded, because I've +never yet had the luck to get a client." + +"And what is this client of whom thou speakest?" + +"Oh, well, some well-to-do merchant who wants a house built for him and +doesn't care how much he spends on it. There must be lots of them +about--but they never seem to come in _my_ direction." + +"Grant me a period of delay, and, if it be possible, I will procure thee +such a client." + +Horace could not help thinking that any recommendation from such a +quarter would hardly carry much weight; but, as the poor old man +evidently imagined himself under an obligation, which he was anxious to +discharge, it would have been unkind to throw cold water on his good +intentions. + +"My dear sir," he said lightly, "if you _should_ come across that +particular type of client, and can contrive to impress him with the +belief that I'm just the architect he's looking out for--which, between +ourselves, I am, though nobody's discovered it yet--if you can get him +to come to me, you will do me the very greatest service I could ever +hope for. But don't give yourself any trouble over it." + +"It will be one of the easiest things that can be," said his visitor, +"that is" (and here a shade of rather pathetic doubt crossed his face) +"provided that anything of my former power yet remains unto me." + +"Well, never mind, sir," said Horace; "if you can't, I shall take the +will for the deed." + +"First of all, it will be prudent to learn where Suleyman is, that I may +humble myself before him and make my peace." + +"Yes," said Horace, gently, "I would. I should make a point of that, +sir. Not _now_, you know. He might be in bed. To-morrow morning." + +"This is a strange place that I am in, and I know not yet in what +direction I should seek him. But till I have found him, and justified +myself in his sight, and had my revenge upon Jarjarees, mine enemy, I +shall know no rest." + +"Well, but go to bed now, like a sensible old chap," said Horace, +soothingly, anxious to prevent this poor demented Asiatic from falling +into the hands of the police. "Plenty of time to go and call on Suleyman +to-morrow." + +"I will search for him, even unto the uttermost ends of the earth!" + +"That's right--you're sure to find him in one of them. Only, don't you +see, it's no use starting to-night--the last trains have gone long ago." +As he spoke, the night wind bore across the square the sound of Big Ben +striking the quarters in Westminster Clock Tower, and then, after a +pause, the solemn boom that announced the first of the small hours. +"To-morrow," thought Ventimore, "I'll speak to Mrs. Rapkin, and get her +to send for a doctor and have him put under proper care--the poor old +boy really isn't fit to go about alone!" + +"I will start now--at once," insisted the stranger "for there is no time +to be lost." + +"Oh, come!" said Horace, "after so many thousand years, a few hours more +or less won't make any serious difference. And you _can't_ go out +now--they've shut up the house. Do let me take you upstairs to your +room, sir." + +"Not so, for I must leave thee for a season, O young man of kind +conduct. But may thy days be fortunate, and the gate never cease to be +repaired, and the nose of him that envieth thee be rubbed in the dust, +for love for thee hath entered into my heart, and if it be permitted +unto me, I will cover thee with the veils of my protection!" + +As he finished this harangue the speaker seemed, to Ventimore's +speechless amazement, to slip through the wall behind him. At all +events, he had left the room somehow--and Horace found himself alone. + +He rubbed the back of his head, which began to be painful. "He can't +really have vanished through the wall," he said to himself. "That's too +absurd. The fact is, I'm over-excited this evening--and no wonder, after +all that's happened. The best thing I can do is to go to bed at once." + +Which he accordingly proceeded to do. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +CARTE BLANCHE + + +When Ventimore woke next morning his headache had gone, and with it the +recollection of everything but the wondrous and delightful fact that +Sylvia loved him and had promised to be his some day. Her mother, too, +was on his side; why should he despair of anything after that? There was +the Professor, to be sure--but even he might be brought to consent to an +engagement, especially if it turned out that the brass bottle ... and +here Horace began to recall an extraordinary dream in connection with +that extremely speculative purchase of his. He had dreamed that he had +forced the bottle open, and that it proved to contain, not manuscripts, +but an elderly Jinnee who alleged that he had been imprisoned there by +the order of King Solomon! + +What, he wondered, could have put so grotesque a fancy into his head? +and then he smiled as he traced it to Sylvia's playful suggestion that +the bottle might contain a "genie," as did the famous jar in the +"Arabian Nights," and to her father's pedantic correction of the word to +"Jinnee." Upon that slight foundation his sleeping brain had built up +all that elaborate fabric--a scene so vivid and a story so +circumstantial and plausible that, in spite of its extravagance, he +could hardly even now persuade himself that it was entirely imaginary. +The psychology of dreams is a subject which has a fascinating mystery, +even for the least serious student. + +As he entered the sitting-room, where his breakfast awaited him, he +looked round, half expecting to find the bottle lying with its lid off +in the corner, as he had last seen it in his dream. + +Of course, it was not there, and he felt an odd relief. The +auction-room people had not delivered it yet, and so much the better, +for he had still to ascertain if it had anything inside it; and who knew +that it might not contain something more to his advantage than a +maundering old Jinnee with a grievance several thousands of years old? + +Breakfast over, he rang for his landlady, who presently appeared. Mrs. +Rapkin was a superior type of her much-abused class. She was +scrupulously clean and neat in her person; her sandy hair was so smooth +and tightly knotted that it gave her head the colour and shape of a +Barcelona nut; she had sharp, beady eyes, nostrils that seemed to smell +battle afar off, a wide, thin mouth that apparently closed with a snap, +and a dry, whity-brown complexion suggestive of bran. + +But if somewhat grim of aspect, she was a good soul and devoted to +Horace, in whom she took almost a maternal interest, while regretting +that he was not what she called "serious-minded enough" to get on in the +world. Rapkin had wooed and married her when they were both in service, +and he still took occasional jobs as an outdoor butler, though Horace +suspected that his more staple form of industry was the consumption of +gin-and-water and remarkably full-flavoured cigars in the basement +parlour. + +"Shall you be dining in this evening, sir?" inquired Mrs. Rapkin. + +"I don't know. Don't get anything in for me; I shall most probably dine +at the club," said Horace; and Mrs. Rapkin, who had a confirmed belief +that all clubs were hotbeds of vice and extravagance, sniffed +disapproval. "By the way," he added, "if a kind of brass pot is sent +here, it's all right. I bought it at a sale yesterday. Be careful how +you handle it--it's rather old." + +"There _was_ a vawse come late last night, sir; I don't know if it's +that, it's old-fashioned enough." + +"Then will you bring it up at once, please? I want to see it." + +Mrs. Rapkin retired, to reappear presently with the brass bottle. "I +thought you'd have noticed it when you come in last night, sir," she +explained, "for I stood it in the corner, and when I see it this morning +it was layin' o' one side and looking that dirty and disrespectable I +took it down to give it a good clean, which it wanted it." + +It certainly looked rather the better for it, and the marks or scratches +on the cap were more distinguishable, but Horace was somewhat +disconcerted to find that part of his dream was true--the bottle had +been there. + +"I hope I've done nothing wrong," said Mrs. Rapkin, observing his +expression; "I only used a little warm ale to it, which is a capital +thing for brass-work, and gave it a scrub with 'Vitrolia' soap--but it +would take more than that to get all the muck off of it." + +"It is all right, so long as you didn't try to get the top off," said +Horace. + +"Why, the top _was_ off it, sir. I thought you'd done it with the 'ammer +and chisel when you got 'ome," said his landlady, staring. "I found them +'ere on the carpet." + +Horace started. Then _that_ part was true, too! "Oh, ah," he said, "I +believe I did. I'd forgotten. That reminds me. Haven't you let the room +above to--to an Oriental gentleman--a native, you know--wears a green +turban?" + +"That I most certainly 'ave _not_, Mr. Ventimore," said Mrs. Rapkin, +with emphasis, "nor wouldn't. Not if his turbin was all the colours of +the rainbow--for I don't 'old with such. Why, there was Rapkin's own +sister-in-law let her parlour floor to a Horiental--a Parsee _he_ was, +or _one_ o' them Hafrican tribes--and reason she 'ad to repent of it, +for all his gold spectacles! Whatever made you fancy I should let to a +blackamoor?" + +"Oh, I thought I saw somebody about--er--answering that description, +and I wondered if----" + +"Never in _this_ 'ouse, sir. Mrs. Steggars, next door but one, might let +to such, for all I can say to the contrary, not being what you might +call particular, and her rooms more suitable to savage notions--but I've +enough on _my_ hands, Mr. Ventimore, attending to you--not keeping a +girl to do the waiting, as why should I while I'm well able to do it +better myself?" + +As soon as she relieved him of her presence, he examined the bottle: +there was nothing whatever inside it, which disposed of all the hopes he +had entertained from that quarter. + +It was not difficult to account for the visionary Oriental as an +hallucination probably inspired by the heavy fumes (for he now believed +in the fumes) which had doubtless resulted from the rapid decomposition +of some long-buried spices or similar substances suddenly exposed to the +air. + +If any further explanation were needed, the accidental blow to the back +of his head, together with the latent suggestion from the "Arabian +Nights," would amply provide it. + +So, having settled these points to his entire satisfaction, he went to +his office in Great Cloister Street, which he now had entirely to +himself, and was soon engaged in drafting the specification for Beevor +on which he had been working when so fortunately interrupted the day +before by the Professor. + +The work was more or less mechanical, and could bring him no credit and +little thanks, but Horace had the happy faculty of doing thoroughly +whatever he undertook, and as he sat there by his wide-open window he +soon became entirely oblivious of all but the task before him. + +So much so that, even when the light became obscured for a moment, as if +by some large and opaque body in passing, he did not look up +immediately, and, when he did, was surprised to find the only armchair +occupied by a portly person, who seemed to be trying to recover his +breath. + +"I beg your pardon," said Ventimore; "I never heard you come in." + +His visitor could only wave his head in courteous deprecation, under +which there seemed a suspicion of bewildered embarrassment. He was a +rosy-gilled, spotlessly clean, elderly gentleman, with white whiskers; +his eyes, just then slightly protuberant, were shrewd, but genial; he +had a wide, jolly mouth and a double chin. He was dressed like a man who +is above disguising his prosperity; he wore a large, pear-shaped pearl +in his crimson scarf, and had probably only lately discarded his summer +white hat and white waistcoat. + +"My dear sir," he began, in a rich, throaty voice, as soon as he could +speak; "my dear sir, you must think this is a most unceremonious way +of--ah!--dropping in on you--of invading your privacy." + +"Not at all," said Horace, wondering whether he could possibly intend +him to understand that he had come in by the window. "I'm afraid there +was no one to show you in--my clerk is away just now." + +"No matter, sir, no matter. I found my way up, as you perceive. The +important, I may say the essential, fact is that I _am_ here." + +"Quite so," said Horace, "and may I ask what brought you?" + +"What brought----" The stranger's eyes grew fish-like for the moment. +"Allow me, I--I shall come to that--in good time. I am still a +little--as you can see." He glanced round the room. "You are, I think, +an architect, Mr. ah--Mr. um----?" + +"Ventimore is my name," said Horace, "and I _am_ an architect." + +"Ventimore, to be sure!" he put his hand in his pocket and produced a +card: "Yes, it's all quite correct: I see I have the name here. And an +architect, Mr. Ventimore, so I--I am given to understand, of immense +ability." + +"I'm afraid I can't claim to be that," said Horace, "but I may call +myself fairly competent." + +"Competent? Why, of _course_ you're competent. Do you suppose, sir, that +I, a practical business man, should come to any one who was _not_ +competent?" he said, with exactly the air of a man trying to convince +himself--against his own judgment--that he was acting with the utmost +prudence. + +"Am I to understand that some one has been good enough to recommend me +to you?" inquired Horace. + +"Certainly not, sir, certainly not. _I_ need no recommendation but my +own judgment. I--ah--have a tolerable acquaintance with all that is +going on in the art world, and I have come to the conclusion, +Mr.--eh--ah--Ventimore, I repeat, the deliberate and unassisted +conclusion, that you are the one man living who can do what I want." + +"Delighted to hear it," said Horace, genuinely gratified. "When did you +see any of my designs?" + +"Never mind, sir. I don't decide without very good grounds. It +doesn't take me long to make up my mind, and when my mind is made +up, I act, sir, I act. And, to come to the point, I have a small +commission--unworthy, I am quite aware, of your--ah--distinguished +talent--which I should like to put in your hands." + +"Is _he_ going to ask me to attend a sale for him?" thought Horace. "I'm +hanged if I do." + +"I'm rather busy at present," he said dubiously, "as you may see. I'm +not sure whether----" + +"I'll put the matter in a nutshell, sir--in a nutshell. My name is +Wackerbath, Samuel Wackerbath--tolerably well known, if I may say so, in +City circles." Horace, of course, concealed the fact that his visitor's +name and fame were unfamiliar to him. "I've lately bought a few acres on +the Hampshire border, near the house I'm living in just now; and I've +been thinking--as I was saying to a friend only just now, as we were +crossing Westminster Bridge--I've been thinking of building myself a +little place there, just a humble, unpretentious home, where I could run +down for the weekend and entertain a friend or two in a quiet way, and +perhaps live some part of the year. Hitherto I've rented places as I +wanted 'em--old family seats and ancestral mansions and so forth: very +nice in their way, but I want to feel under a roof of my own. I want to +surround myself with the simple comforts, the--ah--unassuming elegance +of an English country home. And you're the man--I feel more convinced of +it with every word you say--you're the man to do the job in +style--ah--to execute the work as it should be done." + +Here was the long-wished-for client at last! And it was satisfactory to +feel that he had arrived in the most ordinary and commonplace course, +for no one could look at Mr. Samuel Wackerbath and believe for a moment +that he was capable of floating through an upper window; he was not in +the least that kind of person. + +"I shall be happy to do my best," said Horace, with a calmness that +surprised himself. "Could you give me some idea of the amount you are +prepared to spend?" + +"Well, I'm no Croesus--though I won't say I'm a pauper precisely--and, +as I remarked before, I prefer comfort to splendour. I don't think I +should be justified in going beyond--well, say sixty thousand." + +"Sixty thousand!" exclaimed Horace, who had expected about a tenth of +that sum. "Oh, not _more_ than sixty thousand? I see." + +"I mean, on the house itself," explained Mr. Wackerbath; "there will be +outbuildings, lodges, cottages, and so forth, and then some of the rooms +I should want specially decorated. Altogether, before we are finished, +it may work out at about a hundred thousand. I take it that, with such a +margin, you could--ah--run me up something that in a modest way would +take the shine out of--I mean to say eclipse--anything in the adjoining +counties?" + +"I certainly think," said Horace, "that for such a sum as that I can +undertake that you shall have a home which will satisfy you." And he +proceeded to put the usual questions as to site, soil, available +building materials, the accommodation that would be required, and so on. + +"You're young, sir," said Mr. Wackerbath, at the end of the interview, +"but I perceive you are up to all the tricks of the--I _should_ say, +versed in the _minutiæ_ of your profession. You would like to run down +and look at the ground, eh? Well, that's only reasonable; and my wife +and daughters will want to have _their_ say in the matter--no getting on +without pleasing the ladies, hey? Now, let me see. To-morrow's Sunday. +Why not come down by the 8.45 a.m. to Lipsfield? I'll have a trap, or a +brougham and pair, or something, waiting for you--take you over the +ground myself, bring you back to lunch with us at Oriel Court, and talk +the whole thing thoroughly over. Then we'll send you up to town in the +evening, and you can start work the first thing on Monday. That suit +you? Very well, then. We'll expect you to-morrow." + +With this Mr. Wackerbath departed, leaving Horace, as may be imagined, +absolutely overwhelmed by the suddenness and completeness of his good +fortune. He was no longer one of the unemployed: he had work to do, and, +better still, work that would interest him, give him all the scope and +opportunity he could wish for. With a client who seemed tractable, and +to whom money was clearly no object, he might carry out some of his most +ambitious ideas. + +Moreover, he would now be in a position to speak to Sylvia's father +without fear of a repulse. His commission on £60,000 would be £3,000, +and that on the decorations and other work at least as much +again--probably more. In a year he could marry without imprudence; in +two or three years he might be making a handsome income, for he felt +confident that, with such a start, he would soon have as much work as he +could undertake. + +He was ashamed of himself for ever having lost heart. What were the last +few years of weary waiting but probation and preparation for this +splendid chance, which had come just when he really needed it, and in +the most simple and natural manner? + +He loyally completed the work he had promised to do for Beevor, who +would have to dispense with his assistance in future, and then he felt +too excited and restless to stay in the office, and, after lunching at +his club as usual, he promised himself the pleasure of going to +Cottesmore Gardens and telling Sylvia his good news. + +It was still early, and he walked the whole way, as some vent for his +high spirits, enjoying everything with a new zest--the dappled grey and +salmon sky before him, the amber, russet, and yellow of the scanty +foliage in Kensington Gardens, the pungent scent of fallen chestnuts and +acorns and burning leaves, the blue-grey mist stealing between the +distant tree-trunks, and then the cheery bustle and brilliancy of the +High Street. Finally came the joy of finding Sylvia all alone, and +witnessing her frank delight at what he had come to tell her, of feeling +her hands on his shoulders, and holding her in his arms, as their lips +met for the first time. If on that Saturday afternoon there was a +happier man than Horace Ventimore, he would have done well to dissemble +his felicity, for fear of incurring the jealousy of the high gods. + +When Mrs. Futvoye returned, as she did only too soon, to find her +daughter and Horace seated on the same sofa, she did not pretend to be +gratified. "This is taking a most unfair advantage of what I was weak +enough to say last night, Mr. Ventimore," she began. "I thought I could +have trusted you!" + +"I shouldn't have come so soon," he said, "if my position were what it +was only yesterday. But it's changed since then, and I venture to hope +that even the Professor won't object now to our being regularly +engaged." And he told her of the sudden alteration in his prospects. + +"Well," said Mrs. Futvoye, "you had better speak to my husband about +it." + +The Professor came in shortly afterwards, and Horace immediately +requested a few minutes' conversation with him in the study, which was +readily granted. + +The study to which the Professor led the way was built out at the back +of the house, and crowded with Oriental curios of every age and kind; +the furniture had been made by Cairene cabinet-makers, and along the +cornices of the book-cases were texts from the Koran, while every chair +bore the Arabic for "Welcome" in a gilded firework on its leather back; +the lamp was a perforated mosque lantern with long pendent glass tubes +like hyacinth glasses; a mummy-case smiled from a corner with laboured +_bonhomie_. + +"Well," began the Professor, as soon as they were seated, "so I was not +mistaken--there was something in the brass bottle after all, then? Let's +have a look at it, whatever it is." + +For the moment Horace had almost forgotten the bottle. "Oh!" he said, +"I--I got it open; but there was nothing in it." + +"Just as I anticipated, sir," said the Professor. "I told you there +couldn't be anything in a bottle of that description; it was simply +throwing money away to buy it." + +"I dare say it was, but I wished to speak to you on a much more +important matter;" and Horace briefly explained his object. + +"Dear me," said the Professor, rubbing up his hair irritably, "dear me! +I'd no idea of this--no idea at all. I was under the impression that you +volunteered to act as escort to my wife and daughter at St. Luc purely +out of good nature to relieve me from what--to a man of my habits in +that extreme heat--would have been an arduous and distasteful duty." + +"I was not wholly unselfish, I admit," said Horace. "I fell in love with +your daughter, sir, the first day I met her--only I felt I had no right, +as a poor man with no prospects, to speak to her or you at that time." + +"A very creditable feeling--but I've yet to learn why you should have +overcome it." + +So, for the third time, Ventimore told the story of the sudden turn in +his fortunes. + +"I know this Mr. Samuel Wackerbath by name," said the Professor; "one of +the chief partners in the firm of Akers and Coverdale, the great estate +agents--a most influential man, if you can only succeed in satisfying +him." + +"Oh, I don't feel any misgivings about that, sir," said Horace. "I mean +to build him a house that will be beyond his wildest expectations, and +you see that in a year I shall have earned several thousands, and I need +not say that I will make any settlement you think proper when I +marry----" + +"When you are in possession of those thousands," remarked the Professor, +dryly, "it will be time enough to talk of marrying and making +settlements. Meanwhile, if you and Sylvia choose to consider yourselves +engaged, I won't object--only I must insist on having your promise that +you won't persuade her to marry you without her mother's and my +consent." + +Ventimore gave this undertaking willingly enough, and they returned to +the drawing-room. Mrs. Futvoye could hardly avoid asking Horace, in his +new character of _fiancé_, to stay and dine, which it need not be said +he was only too delighted to do. + +"There is one thing, my dear--er--Horace," said the Professor, solemnly, +after dinner, when the neat parlourmaid had left them at dessert, "one +thing on which I think it my duty to caution you. If you are to justify +the confidence we have shown in sanctioning your engagement to Sylvia, +you must curb this propensity of yours to needless extravagance." + +"Papa!" cried Sylvia. "What _could_ have made you think Horace +extravagant?" + +"Really," said Horace, "I shouldn't have called myself particularly so." + +"Nobody ever _does_ call himself particularly extravagant," retorted the +Professor; "but I observed at St. Luc that you habitually gave fifty +centimes as a _pourboire_ when twopence, or even a penny, would have +been handsome. And no one with any regard for the value of money would +have given a guinea for a worthless brass vessel on the bare chance that +it might contain manuscripts, which (as any one could have foreseen) it +did not." + +"But it's not a bad sort of bottle, sir," pleaded Horace. "If you +remember, you said yourself the shape was unusual. Why shouldn't it be +worth all the money, and more?" + +"To a collector, perhaps," said the Professor, with his wonted +amiability, "which you are not. No, I can only call it a senseless and +reprehensible waste of money." + +"Well, the truth is," said Horace, "I bought it with some idea that it +might interest _you_." + +"Then you were mistaken, sir. It does _not_ interest me. Why should I be +interested in a metal jar which, for anything that appears to the +contrary, may have been cast the other day at Birmingham?" + +"But there _is_ something," said Horace; "a seal or inscription of some +sort engraved on the cap. Didn't I mention it?" + +"You said nothing about an inscription before," replied the Professor, +with rather more interest. "What is the character--Arabic? Persian? +Kufic?" + +"I really couldn't say--it's almost rubbed out--queer little triangular +marks, something like birds' footprints." + +"That sounds like Cuneiform," said the Professor, "which would seem to +point to a Phoenician origin. And, as I am acquainted with no Oriental +brass earlier than the ninth century of our era, I should regard your +description as, _à priori_, distinctly unlikely. However, I should +certainly like to have an opportunity of examining the bottle for myself +some day." + +"Whenever you please, Professor. When can you come?" + +"Why, I'm so much occupied all day that I can't say for certain when I +can get up to your office again." + +"My own days will be fairly full now," said Horace; "and the thing's not +at the office, but in my rooms at Vincent Square. Why shouldn't you all +come and dine quietly there some evening next week, and then you could +examine the inscription comfortably afterwards, you know, Professor, and +find out what it really is? Do say you will." He was eager to have the +privilege of entertaining Sylvia in his own rooms for the first time. + +"No, no," said the Professor; "I see no reason why you should be +troubled with the entire family. I may drop in alone some evening and +take the luck of the pot, sir." + +"Thank you, papa," put in Sylvia; "but _I_ should like to come too, +please, and hear what you think of Horace's bottle. And I'm dying to see +his rooms. I believe they're fearfully luxurious." + +"I trust," observed her father, "that they are far indeed from answering +that description. If they did, I should consider it a most +unsatisfactory indication of Horace's character." + +"There's nothing magnificent about them, I assure you," said Horace. +"Though it's true I've had them done up, and all that sort of thing, at +my own expense--but quite simply. I couldn't afford to spend much on +them. But do come and see them. I must have a little dinner, to +celebrate my good fortune--it will be so jolly if you'll all three +come." + +"If we do come," stipulated the Professor, "it must be on the distinct +understanding that you don't provide an elaborate banquet. Plain, +simple, wholesome food, well cooked, such as we have had this evening, +is all that is necessary. More would be ostentatious." + +"My _dear_ dad!" protested Sylvia, in distress at this somewhat +dictatorial speech. "Surely you can leave all that to Horace!" + +"Horace, my dear, understands that, in speaking as I did, I was simply +treating him as a potential member of my family." Here Sylvia made a +private little grimace. "No young man who contemplates marrying should +allow himself to launch into extravagance on the strength of prospects +which, for all he can tell," said the Professor, genially, "may prove +fallacious. On the contrary, if his affection is sincere, he will incur +as little expense as possible, put by every penny he can save, rather +than subject the girl he professes to love to the ordeal of a long +engagement. In other words, the truest lover is the best economist." + +"I quite understand, sir," said Horace, good-temperedly; "it would be +foolish of me to attempt any ambitious form of entertainment--especially +as my landlady, though an excellent plain cook, is not exactly a _cordon +bleu_. So you can come to my modest board without misgivings." + +Before he left, a provisional date for the dinner was fixed for an +evening towards the end of the next week, and Horace walked home, +treading on air rather than hard paving-stones, and "striking the stars +with his uplifted head." + +The next day he went down to Lipsfield and made the acquaintance of the +whole Wackerbath family, who were all enthusiastic about the proposed +country house. The site was everything that the most exacting architect +could desire, and he came back to town the same evening, having spent a +pleasant day and learnt enough of his client's requirements, and--what +was even more important--those of his client's wife and daughters, to +enable him to begin work upon the sketch-plans the next morning. + +He had not been long in his rooms at Vincent Square, and was still +agreeably engaged in recalling the docility and ready appreciation with +which the Wackerbaths had received his suggestions and rough sketches, +their compliments and absolute confidence in his skill, when he had a +shock which was as disagreeable as it was certainly unexpected. + +For the wall before him parted like a film, and through it stepped, +smiling benignantly, the green-robed figure of Fakrash-el-Aamash, the +Jinnee. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +EMBARRAS DE RICHESSES + + +Ventimore had so thoroughly convinced himself that the released Jinnee +was purely a creature of his own imagination, that he rubbed his eyes +with a start, hoping that they had deceived him. + +"Stroke thy head, O merciful and meritorious one," said his visitor, +"and recover thy faculties to receive good tidings. For it is indeed +I--Fakrash-el-Aamash--whom thou beholdest." + +"I--I'm delighted to see you," said Horace, as cordially as he could. +"Is there anything I can do for you?" + +"Nay, for hast thou not done me the greatest of all services by setting +me free? To escape out of a bottle is pleasant. And to thee I owe my +deliverance." + +It was all true, then: he had really let an imprisoned Genius or Jinnee, +or whatever it was, out of that bottle! He knew he could not be dreaming +now--he only wished he were. However, since it was done, his best course +seemed to be to put a good face on it, and persuade this uncanny being +somehow to go away and leave him in peace for the future. + +"Oh, that's all right, my dear sir," he said, "don't think any more +about it. I--I rather understood you to say that you were starting on a +journey in search of Solomon?" + +"I have been, and returned. For I visited sundry cities in his +dominions, hoping that by chance I might hear news of him, but I +refrained from asking directly lest thereby I should engender suspicion, +and so Suleyman should learn of my escape before I could obtain an +audience of him and implore justice." + +"Oh, I shouldn't think that was likely," said Horace. "If I were you, I +should go straight back and go on travelling till I _did_ find +Suleyman." + +"Well was it said: 'Pass not any door without knocking, lest haply that +which thou seekest should be behind it.'" + +"Exactly," said Horace. "Do each city thoroughly, house by house, and +don't neglect the smallest clue. 'If at first you don't succeed, try, +try, try, again!' as one of our own poets teaches." + +"'Try, try, try again,'" echoed the Jinnee, with an admiration that was +almost fatuous. "Divinely gifted truly was he who composed such a +verse!" + +"He has a great reputation as a sage," said Horace, "and the maxim is +considered one of his happiest efforts. Don't you think that, as the +East is rather thickly populated, the less time you lose in following +the poet's recommendation the better?" + +"It may be as thou sayest. But know this, O my son, that wheresoever I +may wander, I shall never cease to study how I may most fitly reward +thee for thy kindness towards me. For nobly it was said: 'If I be +possessed of wealth and be not liberal, may my head never be extended!'" + +"My good sir," said Horace, "do please understand that if you were to +offer me any reward for--for a very ordinary act of courtesy, I should +be obliged to decline it." + +"But didst thou not say that thou wast sorely in need of a client?" + +"That was so at the time," said Horace; "but since I last had the +pleasure of seeing you, I have met with one who is all I could possibly +wish for." + +"I am indeed rejoiced to hear it," returned the Jinnee, "for thou +showest me that I have succeeded in performing the first service which +thou hast demanded of me." + +Horace staggered under this severe blow to his pride; for the moment he +could only gasp: "You--_you_ sent him to me?" + +"I, and no other," said the Jinnee, beaming with satisfaction; "for +while, unseen of men, I was circling in air, resolved to attend to thy +affair before beginning my search for Suleyman (on whom be peace!), it +chanced that I overheard a human being of prosperous appearance say +aloud upon a bridge that he desired to erect for himself a palace if he +could but find an architect. So, perceiving thee afar off seated at an +open casement, I immediately transported him to the place and delivered +him into thy hands." + +"But he knew my name--he had my card in his pocket," said Horace. + +"I furnished him with the paper containing thy names and abode, lest he +should be ignorant of them." + +"Well, look here, Mr. Fakrash," said the unfortunate Horace, "I know you +meant well--but _never_ do a thing like that again! If my +brother-architects came to know of it I should be accused of most +unprofessional behaviour. I'd no idea you would take that way of +introducing a client to me, or I should have stopped it at once!" + +"It was an error," said Fakrash. "No matter. I will undo this affair, +and devise some other and better means of serving thee." + +"No, no," he said, "for Heaven's sake, leave things alone--you'll only +make them worse. Forgive me, my dear Mr. Fakrash, I'm afraid I must seem +most ungrateful; but--but I was so taken by surprise. And really, I am +extremely obliged to you. For, though the means you took were----were a +little irregular, you have done me a very great service." + +"It is naught," said the Jinnee, "compared to those I hope to render so +great a benefactor." + +"But, indeed, you mustn't think of trying to do any more for me," urged +Horace, who felt the absolute necessity of expelling any scheme of +further benevolence from the Jinnee's head once and for all. "You have +done enough. Why, thanks to you, I am engaged to build a palace that +will keep me hard at work and happy for ever so long." + +"Are human beings, then, so enamoured of hard labour?" asked Fakrash, in +wonder. "It is not thus with the Jinn." + +"I love my work for its own sake," said Horace, "and then, when I have +finished it, I shall have earned a very fair amount of money--which is +particularly important to me just now." + +"And why, my son, art thou so desirous of obtaining riches?" + +"Because," said Horace, "unless a man is tolerably well off in these +days he cannot hope to marry." + +Fakrash smiled with indulgent compassion. "How excellent is the saying +of one of old: 'He that adventureth upon matrimony is like unto one who +thrusteth his hand into a sack containing many thousands of serpents and +one eel. Yet, if Fate so decree, he _may_ draw forth the eel.' And thou +art comely, and of an age when it is natural to desire the love of a +maiden. Therefore be of good heart and a cheerful eye, and it may be +that, when I am more at leisure, I shall find thee a helpmate who shall +rejoice thy soul." + +"Please don't trouble to find me anything of the sort!" said Horace, +hastily, with a mental vision of some helpless and scandalised stranger +being shot into his dwelling like coals. "I assure you I would much +rather win a wife for myself in the ordinary way--as, thanks to your +kindness, I have every hope of doing before long." + +"Is there already some damsel for whom thy heart pineth? If so, fear not +to tell me her names and dwelling place, and I will assuredly obtain her +for thee." + +But Ventimore had seen enough of the Jinnee's Oriental methods to doubt +his tact and discretion where Sylvia was concerned. "No, no; of course +not. I spoke generally," he said. "It's exceedingly kind of you--but I +_do_ wish I could make you understand that I am overpaid as it is. You +have put me in the way to make a name and fortune for myself. If I fail, +it will be my own fault. And, at all events, I want nothing more from +you. If you mean to find Suleyman (on whom be peace!) you must go and +live in the East altogether--for he certainly isn't over here; you must +give up your whole time to it, keep as quiet as possible, and don't be +discouraged by any reports you may hear. Above all, never trouble your +head about me or my affairs again!" + +"O thou of wisdom and eloquence," said Fakrash, "this is most excellent +advice. I will go, then; but may I drink the cup of perdition if I +become unmindful of thy benevolence!" + +And, raising his joined hands above his head as he spoke, he sank, feet +foremost, through the carpet and was gone. + +"Thank Heaven," thought Ventimore, "he's taken the hint at last. I don't +think I'm likely to see any more of him. I feel an ungrateful brute for +saying so, but I can't help it. I can _not_ stand being under any +obligation to a Jinnee who's been shut up in a beastly brass bottle ever +since the days of Solomon, who probably had very good reasons for +putting him there." + +Horace next asked himself whether he was bound in honour to disclose the +facts to Mr. Wackerbath, and give him the opportunity of withdrawing +from the agreement if he thought fit. + +On the whole, he saw no necessity for telling him anything; the only +possible result would be to make his client suspect his sanity; and who +would care to employ an insane architect? Then, if he retired from the +undertaking without any explanations, what could he say to Sylvia? What +would Sylvia's father say to _him_? There would certainly be an end to +his engagement. + +After all, he had not been to blame; the Wackerbaths were quite +satisfied. He felt perfectly sure that he could justify their selection +of him; he would wrong nobody by accepting the commission, while he +would only offend them, injure himself irretrievably, and lose all hope +of gaining Sylvia if he made any attempt to undeceive them. + +And Fakrash was gone, never to return. So, on all these considerations, +Horace decided that silence was his only possible policy, and, though +some moralists may condemn his conduct as disingenuous and wanting in +true moral courage, I venture to doubt whether any reader, however +independent, straightforward, and indifferent to notoriety and ridicule, +would have behaved otherwise in Ventimore's extremely delicate and +difficult position. + +Some days passed, every working hour of which was spent by Horace in the +rapture of creation. To every man with the soul of an artist in him +there comes at times--only too seldom in most cases--a revelation of +latent power that he had not dared to hope for. And now with Ventimore +years of study and theorising which he had often been tempted to think +wasted began to bear golden fruit. He designed and drew with a rapidity +and originality, a sense of perfect mastery of the various problems to +be dealt with, and a delight in the working out of mass and detail, so +intoxicating that he almost dreaded lest he should be the victim of some +self-delusion. + +His evenings were of course spent with the Futvoyes, in discovering +Sylvia in some new and yet more adorable aspect. Altogether, he was very +much in love, very happy, and very busy--three states not invariably +found in combination. + +And, as he had foreseen, he had effectually got rid of Fakrash, who was +evidently too engrossed in the pursuit of Solomon to think of anything +else. And there seemed no reason why he should abandon his search for a +generation or two, for it would probably take all that time to convince +him that that mighty monarch was no longer on the throne. + +"It would have been too brutal to tell him myself," thought Horace, +"when he was so keen on having his case reheard. And it gives him an +object, poor old buffer, and keeps him from interfering in my affairs, +so it's best for both of us." + +Horace's little dinner-party had been twice postponed, till he had begun +to have a superstitious fear that it would never come off; but at length +the Professor had been induced to give an absolute promise for a certain +evening. + +On the day before, after breakfast, Horace had summoned his landlady to +a consultation on the _menu_. "Nothing elaborate, you know, Mrs. +Rapkin," said Horace, who, though he would have liked to provide a feast +of all procurable delicacies for Sylvia's refection, was obliged to +respect her father's prejudices. "Just a simple dinner, thoroughly well +cooked, and nicely served--as you know so well how to do it." + +"I suppose, sir, you would require Rapkin to wait?" + +As the ex-butler was liable to trances on these occasions during which +he could do nothing but smile and bow with speechless politeness as he +dropped sauce-boats and plates, Horace replied that he thought of having +someone in to avoid troubling Mr. Rapkin; but his wife expressed such +confidence in her husband's proving equal to all emergencies, that +Ventimore waived the point, and left it to her to hire extra help if she +thought fit. + +"Now, what soup can you give us?" he inquired, as Mrs. Rapkin stood at +attention and quite unmollified. + +After protracted mental conflict, she grudgingly suggested gravy +soup--which Horace thought too unenterprising, and rejected in favour of +mock turtle. "Well then, fish?" he continued; "how about fish?" + +Mrs. Rapkin dragged the depths of her culinary resources for several +seconds, and finally brought to the surface what she called "a nice +fried sole." Horace would not hear of it, and urged her to aspire to +salmon; she substituted smelts, which he opposed by a happy inspiration +of turbot and lobster sauce. The sauce, however, presented insuperable +difficulties to her mind, and she offered a compromise in the form of +cod--which he finally accepted as a fish which the Professor could +hardly censure for ostentation. + +Next came the no less difficult questions of _entrée_ or no _entrée_, of +joint and bird. "What's in season just now?" said Horace; "let me +see"--and glanced out of the window as he spoke, as though in search of +some outside suggestion.... "Camels, by Jove!" he suddenly exclaimed. + +"_Camels_, Mr. Ventimore, sir?" repeated Mrs. Rapkin, in some +bewilderment; and then, remembering that he was given to untimely +flippancy, she gave a tolerant little cough. + +"I'll be shot if they _aren't_ camels!" said Horace. "What do _you_ make +of 'em, Mrs. Rapkin?" + +Out of the faint mist which hung over the farther end of the square +advanced a procession of tall, dust-coloured animals, with long, +delicately poised necks and a mincing gait. Even Mrs. Rapkin could not +succeed in making anything of them except camels. + +"What the deuce does a caravan of camels want in Vincent Square?" said +Horace, with a sudden qualm for which he could not account. + +"Most likely they belong to the Barnum Show, sir," suggested his +landlady. "I did hear they were coming to Olympia again this year." + +"Why, of course," cried Horace, intensely relieved. "It's on their way +from the Docks--at least, it isn't _out_ of their way. Or probably the +main road's up for repairs. That's it--they'll turn off to the left at +the corner. See, they've got Arab drivers with them. Wonderful how the +fellows manage them." + +"It seems to me, sir," said Mrs. Rapkin, "that they're coming _our_ +way--they seem to be stopping outside." + +"Don't talk such infernal---- I beg your pardon, Mrs. Rapkin; but why +on earth should Barnum and Bailey's camels come out of their way to call +on _me_? It's ridiculous, you know!" said Horace, irritably. + +"Ridicklous it _may_ be, sir," she retorted, "but they're all layin' +down on the road opposite our door, as you can see--and them niggers is +making signs to you to come out and speak to 'em." + +It was true enough. One by one the camels, which were apparently of the +purest breed, folded themselves up in a row like campstools at a sign +from their attendants, who were now making profound salaams towards the +window where Ventimore was standing. + +"I suppose I'd better go down and see what they want," he said, with +rather a sickly smile. "They may have lost the way to Olympia.... I only +hope Fakrash isn't at the bottom of this," he thought, as he went +downstairs. "But he'd come himself--at all events, he wouldn't send me a +message on such a lot of camels!" As he appeared on the doorstep, all +the drivers flopped down and rubbed their flat, black noses on the +curbstone. + +"For Heaven's sake get up!" said Horace angrily. "This isn't +Hammersmith. Turn to the left, into the Vauxhall Bridge Road, and ask a +policeman the nearest way to Olympia." + +"Be not angry with thy slaves!" said the head driver, in excellent +English. "We are here by command of Fakrash-el-Aamash, our lord, whom we +are bound to obey. And we have brought thee these as gifts." + +"My compliments to your master," said Horace, between his teeth, "and +tell him that a London architect has no sort of occasion for camels. Say +that I am extremely obliged--but am compelled to decline them." + +"O highly born one," explained the driver, "the camels are not a +gift--but the loads which are upon the camels. Suffer us, therefore, +since we dare not disobey our lord's commands, to carry these trifling +tokens of his good will into thy dwelling and depart in peace." + +Horace had not noticed till then that every camel bore a heavy burden, +which the attendants were now unloading. "Oh, if you _must_!" he said, +not too graciously; "only do look sharp about it--there's a crowd +collecting already, and I don't want to have a constable here." + +He returned to his rooms, where he found Mrs. Rapkin paralysed with +amazement. "It's--it's all right," he said; "I'd forgotten--it's only a +few Oriental things from the place where that brass bottle came from, +you know. They've left them here--on approval." + +"Seems funny their sending their goods 'ome on camels, sir, doesn't it?" +said Mrs. Rapkin. + +"Not at all funny!" said Horace; "they--they're an enterprising +firm--their way of advertising." + +One after another, a train of dusky attendants entered, each of whom +deposited his load on the floor with a guttural grunt and returned +backward, until the sitting-room was blocked with piles of sacks, and +bales, and chests, whereupon the head driver appeared and intimated that +the tale of gifts was complete. + +"I wonder what sort of tip this fellow expects," thought Horace; "a +sovereign seems shabby--but it's all I can run to. I'll try him with +that." + +But the overseer repudiated all idea of a gratuity with stately dignity, +and as Horace saw him to the gate, he found a stolid constable by the +railings. + +"This won't _do_, you know," said the constable; "these 'ere camels must +move on--or I shall 'ave to interfere." + +"It's all right, constable," said Horace, pressing into his hand the +sovereign the head driver had rejected; "they're going to move on now. +They've brought me a few presents from--from a friend of mine in the +East." + +By this time the attendants had mounted the kneeling camels, which rose +with them, and swung off round the square in a long, swaying trot that +soon left the crowd far behind, staring blankly after the caravan as +camel after camel disappeared into the haze. + +"I shouldn't mind knowin' that friend o' yours, sir," said the +constable; "open-hearted sort o' gentleman, I should think?" + +"Very!" said Horace, savagely, and returned to his room, which Mrs. +Rapkin had now left. + +His hands shook, though not with joy, as he untied some of the sacks and +bales and forced open the outlandish-looking chests, the contents of +which almost took away his breath. + +For in the bales were carpets and tissues which he saw at a glance must +be of fabulous antiquity and beyond all price; the sacks held golden +ewers and vessels of strange workmanship and pantomimic proportions; the +chests were full of jewels--ropes of creamy-pink pearls as large as +average onions, strings of uncut rubies and emeralds, the smallest of +which would have been a tight fit in an ordinary collar-box, and +diamonds, roughly facetted and polished, each the size of a coconut, in +whose hearts quivered a liquid and prismatic radiance. + +On the most moderate computation, the total value of these gifts could +hardly be less than several hundred millions; never probably in the +world's history had any treasury contained so rich a store. + +It would have been difficult for anybody, on suddenly finding himself +the possessor of this immense incalculable wealth, to make any comment +quite worthy of the situation, but, surely, none could have been more +inadequate and indeed inappropriate than Horace's--which, heartfelt as +it was, was couched in the simple monosyllable--"Damn!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +"GRATITUDE--A LIVELY SENSE OF FAVOURS TO COME" + + +Most men on suddenly finding themselves in possession of such enormous +wealth would have felt some elation. Ventimore, as we have seen, was +merely exasperated. And, although this attitude of his may strike the +reader as incomprehensible or absolutely wrong-headed, he had more +reason on his side than might appear at a first view. + +It was undoubtedly the fact that, with the money these treasures +represented, he would be in a position to convulse the money markets of +Europe and America, bring society to his feet, make and unmake +kingdoms--dominate, in short, the entire world. + +"But, then," as Horace told himself with a groan, "it wouldn't amuse me +in the least to convulse money markets. Do I want to see the smartest +people in London grovelling for anything they think they're likely to +get out of me? As I should be perfectly well aware that their homage was +not paid to any personal merit of mine, I could hardly consider it +flattering. And why should I make kingdoms? The only thing I understand +and care about is making houses. Then, am I likely to be a better hand +at dominating the world than all the others who have tried the +experiment? I doubt it." + +He called to mind all the millionaires he had ever read or heard of; +they didn't seem to get much fun out of their riches. The majority of +them were martyrs to dyspepsia. They were often weighed down by the +cares and responsibilities of their position; the only people who were +unable to obtain an audience of them at any time were their friends; +they lived in a glare of publicity, and every post brought them +hundreds of begging letters, and a few threats; their children were in +constant danger from kidnappers, and they themselves, after knowing no +rest in life, could not be certain that even their tombs would be +undisturbed. Whether they were extravagant or thrifty, they were equally +maligned, and, whatever the fortune they left behind them, they could be +absolutely certain that, in a couple of generations, it would be +entirely dissipated. + +"And the biggest millionaire living," concluded Horace, "is a pauper +compared with me!" + +But there was another consideration--how was he to realise all this +wealth? He knew enough about precious stones to be aware that a ruby, +for instance, of the true "pigeon's blood" colour and the size of a +melon, as most of these rubies were, would be worth, even when cut, +considerably over a million; but who would buy it? + +"I think I see myself," he reflected grimly, "calling on some diamond +merchant in Hatton Garden with half a dozen assorted jewels in a +Gladstone bag. If he believed they were genuine, he'd probably have a +fit; but most likely he'd think I'd invented some dodge for +manufacturing them, and had been fool enough to overdo the size. Anyhow, +he'd want to know how they came into my possession, and what could I +say? That they were part of a little present made to me by a Jinnee in +grateful acknowledgment of my having relieved him from a brass bottle in +which he'd been shut up for nearly three thousand years? Look at it how +you will, it's _not_ convincing. I fancy I can guess what he'd say. And +what an ass I should look! Then suppose the thing got into the papers?" + +Got into the papers? Why, of course it would get into the papers. As if +it were possible in these days for a young and hitherto unemployed +architect suddenly to surround himself with wondrous carpets, and gold +vessels, and gigantic jewels without attracting the notice of some +enterprising journalist. He would be interviewed; the story of his +curiously acquired riches would go the round of the papers; he would +find himself the object of incredulity, suspicion, ridicule. In +imagination he could already see the headlines on the news-sheets: + + + BOTTLED BILLIONS + + AMAZING ARABESQUES BY AN ARCHITECT + + HE SAYS THE JAR CONTAINED A JINNEE + + SENSATIONAL STORY + + DIVERTING DETAILS + + +And so on, through every phrase of alliterative ingenuity. He ground his +teeth at the mere thought of it. Then Sylvia would come to hear of it, +and what would _she_ think? She would naturally be repelled, as any +nice-minded girl would be, by the idea that her lover was in secret +alliance with a supernatural being. And her father and mother--would +they allow her to marry a man, however rich, whose wealth came from such +a questionable source? No one would believe that he had not made some +unholy bargain before consenting to set this incarcerated spirit +free--he, who had acted in absolute ignorance, who had persistently +declined all reward after realising what he had done! + +No, it was too much. Try as he might to do justice to the Jinnee's +gratitude and generosity, he could not restrain a bitter resentment at +the utter want of consideration shown in overloading him with gifts so +useless and so compromising. No Jinnee--however old, however unfamiliar +with the world as it is now--had any right to be such a fool! + +And at this, above the ramparts of sacks and bales, which occupied all +the available space in the room, appeared Mrs. Rapkin's face. + +"I was going to ask you, sir, before them parcels came," she began, +with a dry cough of disapproval, "what you would like in the way of +ongtray to-morrow night. I thought if I could find a sweetbread at all +reasonable----" + +To Horace--surrounded as he was by incalculable riches--sweetbreads +seemed incongruous just then; the transition of thought was too violent. + +"I can't bother about that now, Mrs. Rapkin," he said; "we'll settle it +to-morrow. I'm too busy." + +"I suppose most of these things will have to go back, sir, if they're +only sent on approval like?" + +If he only knew where and how he could send them back! "I--I'm not +sure," he said; "I may have to keep them." + +"Well, sir, bargain or none, I wouldn't have 'em as a gift myself, being +so dirty and fusty; they can't be no use to anybody, not to mention +there being no room to move with them blocking up all the place. I'd +better tell Rapkin to carry 'em all upstairs out of people's way." + +"Certainly not," said Horace, sharply, by no means anxious for the +Rapkins to discover the real nature of his treasures. "Don't touch them, +either of you. Leave them exactly as they are, do you understand?" + +"As you please, Mr. Ventimore, sir; only, if they're not to be +interfered with, I don't see myself how you're going to set your friends +down to dinner to-morrow, that's all." + +And, indeed, considering that the table and every available chair, and +even the floor, were heaped so high with valuables that Horace himself +could only just squeeze his way between the piles, it seemed as if his +guests might find themselves inconveniently cramped. + +"It will be all right," he said, with an optimism he was very far from +feeling; "we'll manage somehow--leave it to me." + +Before he left for his office he took the precaution to baffle any +inquisitiveness on the part of his landlady by locking his sitting-room +door and carrying away the key, but it was in a very different mood from +his former light-hearted confidence that he sat down to his +drawing-board in Great Cloister Street that morning. He could not +concentrate his mind; his enthusiasm and his ideas had alike deserted +him. + +He flung down the dividers he had been using and pushed away the nest of +saucers of Indian ink and colours in a fit of petulance. "It's no good," +he exclaimed aloud; "I feel a perfect duffer this morning. I couldn't +even design a decent dog-kennel!" + +Even as he spoke he became conscious of a presence in the room, and, +looking round, saw Fakrash the Jinnee standing at his elbow, smiling +down on him more benevolently than ever, and with a serene expectation +of being warmly welcomed and thanked, which made Horace rather ashamed +of his own inability to meet it. + +"He's a thoroughly good-natured old chap," he thought, +self-reproachfully. "He means well, and I'm a beast not to feel more +glad to see him. And yet, hang it all! I can't have him popping in and +out of the office like a rabbit whenever the fancy takes him!" + +"Peace be upon thee," said Fakrash. "Moderate the trouble of thy heart, +and impart thy difficulties to me." + +"Oh, they're nothing, thanks," said Horace, feeling decidedly +embarrassed. "I got stuck over my work for the moment, and it worried me +a little--that's all." + +"Then thou hast not yet received the gifts which I commanded should be +delivered at thy dwelling-place?" + +"Oh, indeed I have!" replied Horace; "and--and I really don't know how +to thank you for them." + +"A few trifling presents," answered the Jinnee, "and by no means suited +to thy dignity--yet the best in my power to bestow upon thee for the +time being." + +"My dear sir, they simply overwhelm me with their magnificence! They're +beyond all price, and--and I've no idea what to do with such a +superabundance." + +"A superfluity of good things is good," was the Jinnee's sententious +reply. + +"Not in my particular case. I--I quite feel your goodness and +generosity; but, indeed, as I told you before, it's really impossible +for me to accept any such reward." + +Fakrash's brows contracted slightly. "How sayest thou that it is +impossible--seeing that these things are already in thy possession?" + +"I know," said Horace; "but--you won't be offended if I speak quite +plainly?" + +"Art thou not even as a son to me, and can I be angered at any words of +thine?" + +"Well," said Horace, with sudden hope, "honestly, then, I would very +much rather--if you're sure you don't mind--that you would take them all +back again." + +"What? Dost thou demand that I, Fakrash-el-Aamash, should consent to +receive back the gifts I have bestowed? Are they, then, of so little +value in thy sight?" + +"They're of too much value. If I took such a reward for--for a very +ordinary service, I should never be able to respect myself again." + +"This is not the reasoning of an intelligent person," said the Jinnee, +coldly. + +"If you think me a fool, I can't help it. I'm not an ungrateful fool, at +all events. But I feel very strongly that I can't keep these gifts of +yours." + +"So thou wouldst have me break the oath which I swore to reward thee +fitly for thy kind action?" + +"But you _have_ rewarded me already," said Horace, "by contriving that a +wealthy merchant should engage me to build him a residence. And--forgive +my plain speaking--if you truly desire my happiness (as I am sure you +do) you will relieve me of all these precious gems and merchandise, +because, to be frank, they will _not_ make me happy. On the contrary, +they are making me extremely uncomfortable." + +"In the days of old," said Fakrash, "all men pursued wealth; nor could +any amass enough to satisfy his desires. Have riches, then, become so +contemptible in mortal eyes that thou findest them but an encumbrance? +Explain the matter." + +Horace felt a natural delicacy in giving his real reasons. "I can't +answer for other men," he said. "All I know is that I've never been +accustomed to being rich, and I'd rather get used to it gradually, and +be able to feel that I owed it, as far as possible, to my own exertions. +For, as I needn't tell _you_, Mr. Fakrash, riches alone don't make any +fellow happy. You must have observed that they're apt to--well, to land +him in all kinds of messes and worries.... I'm talking like a confounded +copybook," he thought, "but I don't care how priggish I am if I can only +get my way!" + +Fakrash was deeply impressed. "O young man of marvellous moderation!" he +cried. "Thy sentiments are not inferior to those of the Great Suleyman +himself (on whom be peace!). Yet even he doth not utterly despise them, +for he hath gold and ivory and precious stones in abundance. Nor +hitherto have I ever met a human being capable of rejecting them when +offered. But, since thou seemest sincere in holding that my poor and +paltry gifts will not advance thy welfare, and since I would do thee +good and not evil--be it even as thou wouldst. For excellently was it +said: 'The worth of a present depends not on itself, nor on the giver, +but on the receiver alone.'" + +Horace could hardly believe that he had really prevailed. "It's +extremely good of you, sir," he said, "to take it so well. And if you +_could_ let that caravan call for them as soon as possible, it would be +a great convenience to me. I mean--er--the fact is, I'm expecting a few +friends to dine with me to-morrow, and, as my rooms are rather small at +the best of times, I don't quite know how I can manage to entertain +them at all unless something is done." + +"It will be the easiest of actions," replied Fakrash; "therefore, have +no fear that, when the time cometh, thou wilt not be able to entertain +thy friends in a fitting manner. And for the caravan, it shall set out +without delay." + +"By Jove, though, I'd forgotten one thing," said Horace: "I've locked up +the room where your presents are--they won't be able to get in without +the key." + +"Against the servants of the Jinn neither bolts nor bars can prevail. +They shall enter therein and remove all that they brought thee, since it +is thy desire." + +"Very many thanks," said Horace. "And you do _really_ understand that +I'm every bit as grateful as if I could keep the things? You see, I want +all my time and all my energies to complete the designs for this +building, which," he added gracefully, "I should never be in a position +to do at all, but for your assistance." + +"On my arrival," said Fakrash, "I heard thee lamenting the difficulties +of the task; wherein do they consist?" + +"Oh," said Horace, "it's a little difficult to please all the different +people concerned, and myself too. I want to make something of it that I +shall be proud of, and that will give me a reputation. It's a large +house, and there will be a good deal of work in it; but I shall manage +it all right." + +"This is a great undertaking indeed," remarked the Jinnee, after he had +asked various by no means unintelligent questions and received the +answers. "But be persuaded that it shall all turn out most fortunately +and thou shalt obtain great renown. And now," he concluded, "I am +compelled to take leave of thee, for I am still without any certain +tidings of Suleyman." + +"You mustn't let me keep you," said Horace, who had been on thorns for +some minutes lest Beevor should return and find him with his mysterious +visitor. "You see," he added instructively, "so long as you _will_ +neglect your own much more important affairs to look after mine, you can +hardly expect to make _much_ progress, can you?" + +"How excellent is the saying," replied the Jinnee: "'The time which is +spent in doing kindnesses, call it not wasted.'" + +"Yes, that's very good," said Horace, feeling driven to silence this +maxim, if possible, with one of his own invention. "But _we_ have a +saying too--how does it go? Ah, I remember. 'It is possible for a +kindness to be more inconvenient than an injury.'" + +"Marvellously gifted was he who discovered such a saying!" cried +Fakrash. + +"I imagine," said Horace, "he learnt it from his own experience. By the +way, what place were you thinking of drawing--I mean trying--next for +Suleyman?" + +"I purpose to repair to Nineveh, and inquire there." + +"Capital," said Ventimore, with hearty approval, for he hoped that this +would take the Jinnee some little time. "Wonderful city, Nineveh, from +all I've heard--though not quite what it used to be, perhaps. Then +there's Babylon--you might go on there. And if you shouldn't hear of him +there, why not strike down into Central Africa, and do that thoroughly? +Or South America; it's a pity to lose any chance--you've never been to +South America yet?" + +"I have not so much as heard of such a country, and how should Suleyman +be there?" + +"Pardon me, I didn't say he _was_ there. All I meant to convey was, that +he's quite as likely to be there as anywhere else. But if you're going +to Nineveh first, you'd better lose no more time, for I've always +understood that it's rather an awkward place to get at--though probably +_you_ won't find it very difficult." + +"I care not," said Fakrash, "though the search be long, for in travel +there are five advantages----" + +"I know," interrupted Horace, "so don't stop to describe them now. I +should like to see you fairly started, and you really mustn't think it +necessary to break off your search again on my account, because, thanks +to you, I shall get on splendidly alone for the future--if you'll kindly +see that that merchandise is removed." + +"Thine abode shall not be encumbered with it for another hour," said the +Jinnee. "O thou judicious one, in whose estimation wealth is of no +value, know that I have never encountered a mortal who pleased me as +thou hast; and moreover, be assured that such magnanimity as thine shall +not go without a recompense!" + +"How often must I tell you," said Horace, in a glow of impatience, "that +I am already much more than recompensed? Now, my kind, generous old +friend," he added, with an emotion that was not wholly insincere, "the +time has come to bid you farewell--for ever. Let me picture you as +revisiting your former haunts, penetrating to quarters of the globe +(for, whether you are aware of it or not, this earth of ours _is_ a +globe) hitherto unknown to you, refreshing your mind by foreign travel +and the study of mankind--but never, never for a moment losing sight of +your main object, the eventual discovery of and reconciliation with +Suleyman (on whom be peace!). That is the greatest, the only happiness +you can give me now. Good-bye, and _bon voyage_!" + +"May Allah never deprive thy friends of thy presence!" returned the +Jinnee, who was apparently touched by this exordium, "for truly thou art +a most excellent young man!" + +And stepping back into the fireplace, he was gone in an instant. + +Ventimore sank back in his chair with a sigh of relief. He had begun to +fear that the Jinnee never would take himself off, but he had gone at +last--and for good. + +He was half ashamed of himself for feeling so glad, for Fakrash was a +good-natured old thing enough in his way. Only he _would_ overdo things: +he had no sense of proportion. "Why," thought Horace, "if a fellow +expressed a modest wish for a canary in a cage he's just the sort of old +Jinnee to bring him a whole covey of rocs in an aviary about ten times +the size of the Crystal Palace. However, he _does_ understand now that I +can't take anything more from him, and he isn't offended either, so +_that's_ all settled. Now I can set to work and knock off these plans in +peace and quietness." + +But he had not done much before he heard sounds in the next room which +told him that Beevor had returned at last. He had been expected back +from the country for the last day or two, and it was fortunate that he +had delayed so long, thought Ventimore, as he went in to see him and to +tell him the unexpected piece of good fortune that he himself had met +with since they last met. It is needless to say that, in giving his +account, he abstained from any mention of the brass bottle or the +Jinnee, as unessential elements in his story. + +Beevor's congratulations were quite as cordial as could be expected, as +soon as he fully understood that no hoax was intended. "Well, old man," +he said, "I _am_ glad. I really am, you know. To think of a prize like +that coming to you the very first time! And you don't even know how this +Mr. Wackerbath came to hear of you--just happened to see your name up +outside and came in, I expect. Why, I dare say, if I hadn't chanced to +go away as I did--and about a couple of paltry two thousand pound +houses, too! Ah, well, I don't grudge you your luck, though it _does_ +seem rather---- It was worth waiting for; you'll be cutting _me_ out +before long--if you don't make a mess of this job. I mean, you know, old +chap, if you don't go and give your City man a Gothic castle when what +he wants is something with plenty of plate-glass windows and a +Corinthian portico. That's the rock I see ahead of _you_. You mustn't +mind my giving you a word of warning!" + +"Oh no," said Ventimore; "but I shan't give him either a Gothic castle +or plenty of plate-glass. I venture to think he'll be pleased with the +general idea as I'm working it out." + +"Let's hope so," said Beevor. "If you get into any difficulty, you +know," he added, with a touch of patronage, "just you come to me." + +"Thanks," said Horace, "I will. But I'm getting on very fairly at +present." + +"I should rather like to see what you've made of it. I might be able to +give you a wrinkle here and there." + +"It's awfully good of you, but I think I'd rather you didn't see the +plans till they're quite finished," said Horace. The truth was that he +was perfectly aware that the other would not be in sympathy with his +ideas; and Horace, who had just been suffering from a cold fit of +depression about his work, rather shrank from any kind of criticism. + +"Oh, just as you please!" said Beevor, a little stiffly; "you always +_were_ an obstinate beggar. I've had a certain amount of experience, you +know, in my poor little pottering way, and I thought I might possibly +have saved you a cropper or two. But if you think you can manage better +alone--only don't get bolted with by one of those architectural hobbies +of yours, that's all." + +"All right, old fellow. I'll ride my hobby on the curb," said Horace, +laughing, as he went back to his own office, where he found that all his +former certainty and enjoyment of his work had returned to him, and by +the end of the day he had made so much progress that his designs needed +only a few finishing touches to be complete enough for his client's +inspection. + +Better still, on returning to his rooms that evening to change before +going to Kensington, he found that the admirable Fakrash had kept his +promise--every chest, sack, and bale had been cleared away. + +"Them camels come back for the things this afternoon, sir," said Mrs. +Rapkin, "and it put me in a fluster at first, for I made sure you'd +locked your door and took the key. But I must have been +mistook--leastways, them Arabs got in somehow. I hope you meant +everything to go back?" + +"Quite," said Horace; "I saw the--the person who sent them this morning, +and told him there was nothing I cared for enough to keep." + +"And like his impidence sending you a lot o' rubbish like that on +approval--and on camels, too!" declared Mrs. Rapkin. "I'm sure I don't +know what them advertising firms will try next--pushing, _I_ call it." + +Now that everything was gone, Horace felt a little natural regret and +doubt whether he need have been quite so uncompromising in his refusal +of the treasures. "I might have kept some of those tissues and things +for Sylvia," he thought; "and she loves pearls. And a prayer-carpet +would have pleased the Professor tremendously. But no, after all, it +wouldn't have done. Sylvia couldn't go about in pearls the size of new +potatoes, and the Professor would only have ragged me for more reckless +extravagance. Besides, if I'd taken any of the Jinnee's gifts, he might +keep on pouring more in, till I should be just where I was before--or +worse off, really, because I couldn't decently refuse them, then. So +it's best as it is." + +And really, considering his temperament and the peculiar nature of his +position, it is not easy to see how he could have arrived at any other +conclusion. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +BACHELOR'S QUARTERS + + +Horace was feeling particularly happy as he walked back the next evening +to Vincent Square. He had the consciousness of having done a good day's +work, for the sketch-plans for Mr. Wackerbath's mansion were actually +completed and despatched to his business address, while Ventimore now +felt a comfortable assurance that his designs would more than satisfy +his client. + +But it was not that which made him so light of heart. That night his +rooms were to be honoured for the first time by Sylvia's presence. She +would tread upon his carpet, sit in his chairs, comment upon, and +perhaps even handle, his books and ornaments--and all of them would +retain something of her charm for ever after. If she only came! For even +now he could not quite believe that she really would; that some untoward +event would not make a point of happening to prevent her, as he +sometimes doubted whether his engagement was not too sweet and wonderful +to be true--or, at all events, to last. + +As to the dinner, his mind was tolerably easy, for he had settled the +remaining details of the _menu_ with his landlady that morning, and he +could hope that without being so sumptuous as to excite the Professor's +wrath, it would still be not altogether unworthy--and what goods could +be rare and dainty enough?--to be set before Sylvia. + +He would have liked to provide champagne, but he knew that wine would +savour of ostentation in the Professor's judgment, so he had contented +himself instead with claret, a sound vintage which he knew he could +depend upon. Flowers, he thought, were clearly permissible, and he had +called at a florist's on his way and got some chrysanthemums of palest +yellow and deepest terra-cotta, the finest he could see. Some of them +would look well on the centre of the table in an old Nankin +blue-and-white bowl he had; the rest he could arrange about the room: +there would just be time to see to all that before dressing. + +Occupied with these thoughts, he turned into Vincent Square, which +looked vaster than ever with the murky haze, enclosed by its high +railings, and under a wide expanse of steel-blue sky, across which the +clouds were driving fast like ships in full sail scudding for harbour +before a storm. Against the mist below, the young and nearly leafless +trees showed flat, black profiles as of pressed seaweed, and the sky +immediately above the house-tops was tinged with a sullen red from miles +of lighted streets; from the river came the long-drawn tooting of tugs, +mingled with the more distant wail and hysterical shrieks of railway +engines on the Lambeth lines. + +And now he reached the old semi-detached house in which he lodged, and +noticed for the first time how the trellis-work of the veranda made, +with the bared creepers and hanging baskets, a kind of decorative +pattern against the windows, which were suffused with a roseate glow +that looked warm and comfortable and hospitable. He wondered whether +Sylvia would notice it when she arrived. + +He passed under the old wrought-iron arch that once held an oil-lamp, +and up a short but rather steep flight of steps, which led to a brick +porch built out at the side. Then he let himself in, and stood +spellbound with perplexed amazement,--for he was in a strange house. + +In place of the modest passage with the yellow marble wall-paper, the +mahogany hat-stand, and the elderly barometer in a state of chronic +depression which he knew so well, he found an arched octagonal +entrance-hall with arabesques of blue, crimson, and gold, and +richly-embroidered hangings; the floor was marble, and from a shallow +basin of alabaster in the centre a perfumed fountain rose and fell with +a lulling patter. + +"I must have mistaken the number," he thought, quite forgetting that his +latch-key had fitted, and he was just about to retreat before his +intrusion was discovered, when the hangings parted, and Mrs. Rapkin +presented herself, making so deplorably incongruous a figure in such +surroundings, and looking so bewildered and woebegone, that Horace, in +spite of his own increasing uneasiness, had some difficulty in keeping +his gravity. + +"Oh, Mr. Ventimore, sir," she lamented; "whatever _will_ you go and do +next, I wonder? To think of your going and having the whole place done +up and altered out of knowledge like this, without a word of warning! If +any halterations were required, I _do_ think as me and Rapkin had the +right to be consulted." + +Horace let all his chrysanthemums drop unheeded into the fountain. He +understood now: indeed, he seemed in some way to have understood almost +from the first, only he would not admit it even to himself. + +The irrepressible Jinnee was at the bottom of this, of course. He +remembered now having made that unfortunate remark the day before about +the limited accommodation his rooms afforded. + +Clearly Fakrash must have taken a mental note of it, and, with that +insatiable munificence which was one of his worst failings, had +determined, by way of a pleasant surprise, to entirely refurnish and +redecorate the apartments according to his own ideas. + +It was extremely kind of him; it showed a truly grateful +disposition--"but, oh!" as Horace thought, in the bitterness of his +soul, "if he would only learn to let well alone and mind his own +business!" + +However, the thing was done now, and he must accept the responsibility +for it, since he could hardly disclose the truth. "Didn't I mention I +was having some alterations made?" he said carelessly. "They've got the +work done rather sooner than I expected. Were--were they long over it?" + +"I'm sure I can't tell you, sir, having stepped out to get some things I +wanted in for to-night; and Rapkin, he was round the corner at his +reading-room; and when I come back it was all done and the workmen gone +'ome; and how they could have finished such a job in the time beats me +altogether, for when we 'ad the men in to do the back kitchen they took +ten days over it." + +"Well," said Horace, evading this point, "however they've done this, +they've done it remarkably well--you'll admit that, Mrs. Rapkin?" + +"That's as may be sir," said Mrs. Rapkin, with a sniff, "but it ain't +_my_ taste, nor yet I don't think it will be Rapkin's taste when he +comes to see it." + +It was not Ventimore's taste either, though he was not going to confess +it. "Sorry for that, Mrs. Rapkin," he said, "but I've no time to talk +about it now. I must rush upstairs and dress." + +"Begging your pardon, sir, but that's a total unpossibility--for they've +been and took away the staircase.' + +"Taken away the staircase? Nonsense!" cried Horace. + +"So _I_ think, Mr. Ventimore--but it's what them men have done, and if +you don't believe me, come and see for yourself!" + +She drew the hangings aside, and revealed to Ventimore's astonished gaze +a vast pillared hall with a lofty domed roof, from which hung several +lamps, diffusing a subdued radiance. High up in the wall, on his left, +were the two windows which he judged to have formerly belonged to his +sitting-room (for either from delicacy or inability, or simply because +it had not occurred to him, the Jinnee had not interfered with the +external structure), but the windows were now masked by a perforated +and gilded lattice, which accounted for the pattern Horace had noticed +from without. The walls were covered with blue-and-white Oriental tiles, +and a raised platform of alabaster on which were divans ran round two +sides of the hall, while the side opposite to him was pierced with +horseshoe-shaped arches, apparently leading to other apartments. The +centre of the marble floor was spread with costly rugs and piles of +cushions, their rich hues glowing through the gold with which they were +intricately embroidered. + +"Well," said the unhappy Horace, scarcely knowing what he was saying, +"it--it all looks very _cosy_, Mrs. Rapkin." + +"It's not for me to say, sir; but I should like to know where you +thought of dining?" + +"Where?" said Horace. "Why, here, of course. There's plenty of room." + +"There isn't a table left in the house," said Mrs. Rapkin; "so, unless +you'd wish the cloth laid on the floor----" + +"Oh, there must be a table somewhere," said Horace, impatiently, "or you +can borrow one. Don't _make_ difficulties, Mrs. Rapkin. Rig up anything +you like.... Now I must be off and dress." + +He got rid of her, and, on entering one of the archways, discovered a +smaller room, in cedar-wood encrusted with ivory and mother-o'-pearl, +which was evidently his bedroom. A gorgeous robe, stiff with gold and +glittering with ancient gems, was laid out for him--for the Jinnee had +thought of everything--but Ventimore, naturally, preferred his own +evening clothes. + +"Mr. Rapkin!" he shouted, going to another arch that seemed to +communicate with the basement. + +"Sir?" replied his landlord, who had just returned from his +"reading-room," and now appeared, without a tie and in his +shirt-sleeves, looking pale and wild, as was, perhaps, intelligible in +the circumstances. As he entered his unfamiliar marble halls he +staggered, and his red eyes rolled and his mouth gaped in a cod-like +fashion. "They've been at it 'ere, too, seemin'ly," he remarked huskily. + +"There have been a few changes," said Horace, quietly, "as you can see. +You don't happen to know where they've put my dress-clothes, do you?" + +"I don't 'appen to know where they've put nothink. Your dress clothes? +Why, I dunno where they've bin and put our little parler where me and +Maria 'ave set of a hevenin' all these years regular. I dunno where +they've put the pantry, nor yet the bath-room, with 'ot and cold water +laid on at my own expense. And you arsk me to find your hevenin' soot! I +consider, sir, I consider that a unwall--that a most unwarrant-terrible +liberty have bin took at my expense." + +"My good man, don't talk rubbish!" said Horace. + +"I'm talking to you about what _I know_, and I assert that an +Englishman's 'ome is his cashle, and nobody's got the right when his +backsh turned to go and make a 'Ummums of it. Not _nobody_ 'asn't!" + +"Make a _what_ of it?" cried Ventimore. + +"A 'Ummums--that's English, ain't it? A bloomin' Turkish baths! Who do +you suppose is goin' to take apartments furnished in this 'ere +ridic'loush style? What am I goin' to say to my landlord? It'll about +ruing me, this will; and after you bein' a lodger 'ere for five year and +more, and regarded by me and Maria in the light of one of the family. +It's 'ard--it's damned 'ard!" + +"Now, look here," said Ventimore, sharply--for it was obvious that Mr. +Rapkin's studies had been lightened by copious refreshment--"pull +yourself together, man, and listen to me." + +"I respeckfully decline to pull myshelf togerrer f'r anybody livin'," +said Mr. Rapkin, with a noble air. "I shtan' 'ere upon my dignity as a +man, sir. I shay, I shtand 'ere upon----" Here he waved his hand, and +sat down suddenly upon the marble floor. + +"You can stand on anything you like--or can," said Horace; "but hear +what I've got to say. The--the people who made all these alterations +went beyond my instructions. I never wanted the house interfered with +like this. Still, if your landlord doesn't see that its value is +immensely improved, he's a fool, that's all. Anyway, I'll take care +_you_ shan't suffer. If I have to put everything back in its former +state, I will, at my own expense. So don't bother any more about +_that_." + +"You're a gen'l'man, Mr. Ventimore," said Rapkin, cautiously regaining +his feet. "There's no mishtaking a gen'l'man. _I'm_ a gen'l'man." + +"Of course you are," said Horace genially, "and I'll tell you how you're +going to show it. You're going straight downstairs to get your good wife +to pour some cold water over your head; and then you will finish +dressing, see what you can do to get a table of some sort and lay it for +dinner, and be ready to announce my friends when they arrive, and wait +afterwards. Do you see?" + +"That will be all ri', Mr. Ventimore," said Rapkin, who was not far gone +enough to be beyond understanding or obeying. "You leave it entirely to +me. I'll unnertake that your friends shall be made comforrable, perfelly +comforrable. I've lived as butler in the besht, the mosht ecxlu--most +arishto--you know the sort o' fam'lies I'm tryin' to r'member--and--and +everything was always all ri', and _I_ shall be all ri' in a few +minutes." + +With this assurance he stumbled downstairs, leaving Horace relieved to +some extent. Rapkin would be sober enough after his head had been under +the tap for a few minutes, and in any case there would be the hired +waiter to rely upon. + +If he could only find out where his evening clothes were! He returned to +his room and made another frantic search--but they were nowhere to be +found; and as he could not bring himself to receive his guests in his +ordinary morning costume--which the Professor would probably construe as +a deliberate slight, and which would certainly seem a solecism in Mrs. +Futvoye's eyes, if not in her daughter's--he decided to put on the +Eastern robes, with the exception of a turban, which he could not manage +to wind round his head. + +Thus arrayed he re-entered the domed hall, where he was annoyed to find +that no attempt had been made as yet to prepare a dinner-table, and he +was just looking forlornly round for a bell when Rapkin appeared. He had +apparently followed Horace's advice, for his hair looked wet and sleek, +and he was comparatively sober. + +"This is too bad!" cried Horace; "my friends may be here at any moment +now--and nothing done. You don't propose to wait at table like that, do +you?" he added, as he noted the man's overcoat and the comforter round +his throat. + +"I do not propose to wait in any garments whatsoever," said Rapkin; "I'm +a-goin' out, I am." + +"Very well," said Horace; "then send the waiter up--I suppose he's +come?" + +"He come--but he went away again--I told him as he wouldn't be +required." + +"You told him that!" Horace said angrily, and then controlled himself. +"Come, Rapkin, be reasonable. You can't really mean to leave your wife +to cook the dinner, and serve it too!" + +"She ain't intending to do neither; she've left the house already." + +"You must fetch her back," cried Horace. "Good heavens, man, _can't_ you +see what a fix you're leaving me in? My friends have started long +ago--it's too late to wire to them, or make any other arrangements." + +There was a knock, as he spoke, at the front door; and odd enough was +the familiar sound of the cast-iron knocker in that Arabian hall. + +"There they are!" he said, and the idea of meeting them at the door and +proposing an instant adjournment to a restaurant occurred to him--till +he suddenly recollected that he would have to change and try to find +some money, even for that. "For the last time, Rapkin," he cried in +despair, "do you mean to tell me there's no dinner ready?" + +"Oh," said Rapkin, "there's dinner right enough, and a lot o' barbarious +furriners downstairs a cookin' of it--that's what broke Maria's 'art--to +see it all took out of her 'ands, after the trouble she'd gone to." + +"But I must have somebody to wait," exclaimed Horace. + +"You've got waiters enough, as far as that goes. But if you expect a +hordinary Christian man to wait along of a lot o' narsty niggers, and be +at their beck and call, you're mistook, sir, for I'm going to sleep the +night at my brother-in-law's and take his advice, he bein' a doorkeeper +at a solicitor's orfice and knowing the law, about this 'ere business, +and so I wish you a good hevening, and 'oping your dinner will be to +your liking and satisfaction." + +He went out by the farther archway, while from the entrance-hall Horace +could hear voices he knew only too well. The Futvoyes had come; well, at +all events, it seemed that there would be something for them to eat, +since Fakrash, in his anxiety to do the thing thoroughly, had furnished +both the feast and attendance himself--but who was there to announce the +guests? Where were these waiters Rapkin had spoken of? Ought he to go +and bring in his visitors himself? + +These questions answered themselves the next instant, for, as he stood +there under the dome, the curtains of the central arch were drawn with a +rattle, and disclosed a double line of tall slaves in rich raiment, +their onyx eyes rolling and their teeth flashing in their chocolate-hued +countenances, as they salaamed. + +Between this double line stood Professor and Mrs. Futvoye and Sylvia, +who had just removed their wraps and were gazing in undisguised +astonishment on the splendours which met their view. + +Horace advanced to receive them; he felt he was in for it now, and the +only course left him was to put as good a face as he could on the +matter, and trust to luck to pull him through without discovery or +disaster. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +"PERSICOS ODI, PUER, APPARATUS" + + +"So you've found your way here at last?" said Horace, as he shook hands +heartily with the Professor and Mrs. Futvoye. "I can't tell you how +delighted I am to see you." + +As a matter of fact, he was very far from being at ease, which made him +rather over-effusive, but he was determined that, if he could help it, +he would not betray the slightest consciousness of anything _bizarre_ or +unusual in his domestic arrangements. + +"And these," said Mrs. Futvoye, who was extremely stately in black, +with old lace and steel embroidery--"these are the bachelor lodgings you +were so modest about! Really," she added, with a humorous twinkle in her +shrewd eyes, "you young men seem to understand how to make yourselves +comfortable--don't they, Anthony?" + +"They do, indeed," said the Professor, dryly, though it manifestly cost +him some effort to conceal his appreciation. "To produce such results as +these must, if I mistake not, have entailed infinite research--and +considerable expense." + +"No," said Horace, "no. You--you'd be surprised if you knew how little." + +"I should have imagined," retorted the Professor, "that _any_ outlay on +apartments which I presume you do not contemplate occupying for an +extended period must be money thrown away. But, doubtless, you know +best." + +"But your rooms are quite wonderful, Horace!" cried Sylvia, her charming +eyes dilating with admiration. "And where, _where_ did you get that +magnificent dressing-gown? I never saw anything so lovely in my life!" + +She herself was lovely enough in a billowy, shimmering frock of a +delicate apple-green hue, her only ornament a deep-blue Egyptian scarab +with spread wings, which was suspended from her neck by a slender gold +chain. + +"I--I ought to apologise for receiving you in this costume," said +Horace, with embarrassment; "but the fact is, I couldn't find my evening +clothes anywhere, so--so I put on the first things that came to hand." + +"It is hardly necessary," said the Professor, conscious of being +correctly clad, and unconscious that his shirt-front was bulging and his +long-eared white tie beginning to work up towards his left jaw--"hardly +necessary to offer any apology for the simplicity of your costume--which +is entirely in keeping with the--ah--strictly Oriental character of your +interior." + +"_I_ feel dreadfully out of keeping!" said Sylvia, "for there's nothing +in the least Oriental about _me_--unless it's my scarab--and he's I +don't know how many centuries behind the time, poor dear!" + +"If you said 'thousands of years,' my dear," corrected the Professor, +"you would be more accurate. That scarab was taken out of a tomb of the +thirteenth dynasty." + +"Well, I'm sure he'd rather be where he is," said Sylvia, and Ventimore +entirely agreed with her. "Horace, I _must_ look at everything. How +clever and original of you to transform an ordinary London house into +this!" + +"Oh, well, you see," explained Horace, "it--it wasn't exactly done by +me." + +"Whoever did it," said the Professor, "must have devoted considerable +study to Eastern art and architecture. May I ask the name of the firm +who executed the alterations?" + +"I really couldn't tell you, sir," answered Horace, who was beginning +to understand how very bad a _mauvais quart d'heure_ can be. + +"You can't tell me!" exclaimed the Professor. "You order these +extensive, and _I_ should say expensive, decorations, and you don't know +the firm you selected to carry them out!" + +"Of course I _know_," said Horace, "only I don't happen to remember at +this moment. Let me see, now. Was it Liberty? No, I'm almost certain it +wasn't Liberty. It might have been Maple, but I'm not sure. Whoever did +do it, they were marvellously cheap." + +"I am glad to hear it," said the Professor, in his most unpleasant tone. +"Where is your dining-room?" + +"Why, I rather think," said Horace, helplessly, as he saw a train of +attendants laying a round cloth on the floor, "I rather think _this_ is +the dining-room." + +"You appear to be in some doubt?" said the Professor. + +"I leave it to them--it depends where they choose to lay the cloth," +said Horace. "Sometimes in one place; sometimes in another. There's a +great charm in uncertainty," he faltered. + +"Doubtless," said the Professor. + +By this time two of the slaves, under the direction of a tall and +turbaned black, had set a low ebony stool, inlaid with silver and +tortoiseshell in strange devices, on the round carpet, when other +attendants followed with a circular silver tray containing covered +dishes, which they placed on the stool and salaamed. + +"Your--ah--groom of the chambers," said the Professor, "seems to have +decided that we should dine here. I observe they are making signs to you +that the food is on the table." + +"So it is," said Ventimore. "Shall we sit down?" + +"But, my dear Horace," said Mrs. Futvoye, "your butler has forgotten the +chairs." + +"You don't appear to realise, my dear," said the Professor, "that in +such an interior as this chairs would be hopelessly incongruous." + +"I'm afraid there aren't any," said Horace, for there was nothing but +four fat cushions. "Let's sit down on these," he proposed. "It--it's +more fun!" + +"At my time of life," said the Professor, irritably, as he let himself +down on the plumpest cushion, "such fun as may be derived from eating +one's meals on the floor fails to appeal to my sense of humour. However, +I admit that it is thoroughly Oriental." + +"_I_ think it's delightful," said Sylvia; "ever so much nicer than a +stiff, conventional dinner-party." + +"One may be unconventional," remarked her father, "without escaping the +penalty of stiffness. Go away, sir! go away!" he added snappishly, to +one of the slaves, who was attempting to pour water over his hands. +"Your servant, Ventimore, appears to imagine that I go out to dinner +without taking the trouble to wash my hands previously. This, I may +mention, is _not_ the case." + +"It's only an Eastern ceremony, Professor," said Horace. + +"I am perfectly well aware of what is customary in the East," retorted +the Professor; "it does not follow that such--ah--hygienic precautions +are either necessary or desirable at a Western table." + +Horace made no reply; he was too much occupied in gazing blankly at the +silver dish-covers and wondering what in the world might be underneath; +nor was his perplexity relieved when the covers were removed, for he was +quite at a loss to guess how he was supposed to help the contents +without so much as a fork. + +The chief attendant, however, solved that difficulty by intimating in +pantomime that the guests were expected to use their fingers. + +Sylvia accomplished this daintily and with intense amusement, but her +father and mother made no secret of their repugnance. "If I were dining +in the desert with a Sheik, sir," observed the Professor, "I should, I +hope, know how to conform to his habits and prejudices. Here, in the +heart of London, I confess all this strikes me as a piece of needless +pedantry." + +"I'm very sorry," said Horace; "I'd have some knives and forks if I +could--but I'm afraid these fellows don't even understand what they are, +so it's useless to order any. We--we must rough it a little, that's all. +I hope that--er--fish is all right, Professor?" + +He did not know precisely what kind of fish it was, but it was fried in +oil of sesame and flavoured with a mixture of cinnamon and ginger, and +the Professor did not appear to be making much progress with it. +Ventimore himself would have infinitely preferred the original cod and +oyster sauce, but that could not be helped now. + +"Thank you," said the Professor, "it is curious--but characteristic. Not +_any_ more, thank you." + +Horace could only trust that the next course would be more of a success. +It was a dish of mutton, stewed with peaches, jujubes and sugar, which +Sylvia declared was delicious. Her parents made no comment. + +"Might I ask for something to drink?" said the Professor, presently; +whereupon a cupbearer poured him a goblet of iced sherbet perfumed with +conserve of violets. + +"I'm very sorry, my dear fellow," he said, after sipping it, "but if I +drink this I shall be ill all next day. If I might have a glass of +wine----" + +Another slave instantly handed him a cup of wine, which he tasted and +set down with a wry face and a shudder. Horace tried some afterwards, +and was not surprised. It was a strong, harsh wine, in which goatskin +and resin struggled for predominance. + +"It's an old and, I make no doubt, a fine wine," observed the Professor, +with studied politeness, "but I fancy it must have suffered in +transportation. I really think that, with my gouty tendency, a little +whisky and Apollinaris would be better for me--if you keep such +occidental fluids in the house?" + +Horace felt convinced that it would be useless to order the slaves to +bring whisky or Apollinaris, which were of course, unknown in the +Jinnee's time, so he could do nothing but apologise for their absence. + +"No matter," said the Professor; "I am not so thirsty that I cannot wait +till I get home." + +It was some consolation that both Sylvia and her mother commended the +sherbet, and even appreciated--or were so obliging as to say they +appreciated--the _entrée_, which consisted of rice and mincemeat wrapped +in vine-leaves, and certainly was not appetising in appearance, besides +being difficult to dispose of gracefully. + +It was followed by a whole lamb fried in oil, stuffed with pounded +pistachio nuts, pepper, nutmeg, and coriander seeds, and liberally +besprinkled with rose-water and musk. + +Only Horace had sufficient courage to attack the lamb--and he found +reason to regret it. Afterwards came fowls stuffed with raisins, +parsley, and crumbled bread, and the banquet ended with pastry of weird +forms and repellent aspect. + +"I hope," said Horace, anxiously, "you don't find this Eastern cookery +very--er--unpalatable?"--he himself was feeling distinctly unwell: "it's +rather a change from the ordinary routine." + +"I have made a truly wonderful dinner, thank you," replied the +Professor, not, it is to be feared, without intention. "Even in the East +I have eaten nothing approaching this." + +"But where did your landlady pick up this extraordinary cooking, my dear +Horace?" said Mrs. Futvoye. "I thought you said she was merely a plain +cook. Has she ever lived in the East?" + +"Not exactly _in_ the East," exclaimed Horace; "not what you would call +_living_ there. The fact is," he continued, feeling that he was in +danger of drivelling, and that he had better be as candid as he could, +"this dinner _wasn't_ cooked by her. She--she was obliged to go away +quite suddenly. So the dinner was all sent in by--by a sort of +contractor, you know. He supplies the whole thing, waiters and all." + +"I was thinking," said the Professor, "that for a bachelor--an _engaged_ +bachelor--you seemed to maintain rather a large establishment." + +"Oh, they're only here for the evening, sir," said Horace. "Capital +fellows--more picturesque than the local greengrocer--and they don't +breathe on the top of your head." + +"They're perfect dears, Horace," remarked Sylvia; "only--well, just a +_little_ creepy-crawly to look at!" + +"It would ill become me to criticise the style and method of our +entertainment," put in the Professor, acidly, "otherwise I might be +tempted to observe that it scarcely showed that regard for economy which +I should have----" + +"Now, Anthony," put in his wife, "don't let us have any fault-finding. +I'm sure Horace has done it all delightfully--yes, delightfully; and +even if he _has_ been just a little extravagant, it's not as if he was +obliged to be as economical _now_, you know!" + +"My dear," said the Professor, "I have yet to learn that the prospect of +an increased income in the remote future is any justification for +reckless profusion in the present." + +"If you only knew," said Horace, "you wouldn't call it profusion. +It--it's not at all the dinner I meant it to be, and I'm afraid it +wasn't particularly nice--but it's certainly not expensive." + +"Expensive is, of course, a very relative term. But I think I have the +right to ask whether this is the footing on which you propose to begin +your married life?" + +It was an extremely awkward question, as the reader will perceive. If +Ventimore replied--as he might with truth--that he had no intention +whatever of maintaining his wife in luxury such as that, he stood +convicted of selfish indulgence as a bachelor; if, on the other hand, he +declared that he _did_ propose to maintain his wife in the same +fantastic and exaggerated splendour as the present, it would certainly +confirm her father's disbelief in his prudence and economy. + +And it was that egregious old ass of a Jinnee, as Horace thought, with +suppressed rage, who had let him in for all this, and who was now far +beyond all remonstrance or reproach! + +Before he could bring himself to answer the question, the attendants had +noiselessly removed the tray and stool, and were handing round rosewater +in a silver ewer and basin, the character of which, luckily or +otherwise, turned the Professor's inquisitiveness into a different +channel. + +"These are not bad--really not bad at all," he said, inspecting the +design. "Where did you manage to pick them up?" + +"I didn't," said Horace; "they're provided by the--the person who +supplies the dinner." + +"Can you give me his address?" said the Professor, scenting a bargain; +"because really, you know, these things are probably antiques--much too +good to be used for business purposes." + +"I'm wrong," said Horace, lamely; "these particular things are--are lent +by an eccentric Oriental gentleman, as a great favour." + +"Do I know him? Is he a collector of such things?" + +"You wouldn't have met him; he--he's lived a very retired life of late." + +"I should very much like to see his collection. If you could give me a +letter of introduction----" + +"No," said Horace, in a state of prickly heat; "it wouldn't be any use. +His collection is never shown. He--he's a most peculiar man. And just +now he's abroad." + +"Ah! pardon me if I've been indiscreet; but I concluded from what you +said that this--ah--banquet was furnished by a professional caterer." + +"Oh, the banquet? Yes, _that_ came from the Stores," said Horace, +mendaciously. "The--the Oriental Cookery Department. They've just +started it, you know; so--so I thought I'd give them a trial. But it's +not what I call properly organised yet." + +The slaves were now, with low obeisances, inviting them to seat +themselves on the divan which lined part of the hall. + +"Ha!" said the Professor, as he rose from his cushion, cracking audibly, +"so we're to have our coffee and what not over there, hey?... Well, my +boy, I shan't be sorry, I confess, to have something to lean my back +against--and a cigar, a mild cigar, will--ah--aid digestion. You _do_ +smoke here?" + +"Smoke?" said Horace, "Why, of course! All over the place. Here," he +said, clapping his hands, which brought an obsequious slave instantly to +his side; "just bring coffee and cigars, will you?" + +The slave rolled his brandy-ball eyes in obvious perplexity. + +"Coffee," said Horace; "you must know what coffee is. And cigarettes. +Well, _chibouks_, then--'hubble-bubbles'--if that's what you call them." + +But the slave clearly did not understand, and it suddenly struck Horace +that, since 'tobacco and coffee were not introduced, even in the East, +till long after the Jinnee's time, he, as the founder of the feast, +would naturally be unaware how indispensable they had become at the +present day. + +"I'm really awfully sorry," he said; "but they don't seem to have +provided any. I shall speak to the manager about it. And, unfortunately, +I don't know where my own cigars are." + +"It's of no consequence," said the Professor, with the sort of stoicism +that minds very much. "I am a moderate smoker at best, and Turkish +coffee, though delicious, is apt to keep me awake. But if you could let +me have a look at that brass bottle you got at poor Collingham's sale, I +should be obliged to you." + +Horace had no idea where it was then, nor could he, until the Professor +came to the rescue with a few words of Arabic, manage to make the slaves +comprehend what he wished them to find. + +At length, however, two of them appeared, bearing the brass bottle with +every sign of awe, and depositing it at Ventimore's feet. + +Professor Futvoye, after wiping and adjusting his glasses, proceeded to +examine the vessel. "It certainly is a most unusual type of brassware," +he said, "as unique in its way as the silver ewer and basin; and, as you +thought, there does seem to be something resembling an inscription on +the cap, though in this dim light it is almost impossible to be sure." + +While he was poring over it, Horace seated himself on the divan by +Sylvia's side, hoping for one of the whispered conversations permitted +to affianced lovers; he had pulled through the banquet somehow, and on +the whole he felt thankful things had not gone off worse. The noiseless +and uncanny attendants, whom he did not know whether to regard as +Efreets, or demons, or simply illusions, but whose services he had no +wish to retain, had all withdrawn. Mrs. Futvoye was peacefully +slumbering, and her husband was in a better humour than he had been all +the evening. + +Suddenly from behind the hangings of one of the archways came strange, +discordant sounds, barbaric janglings and thumpings, varied by yowls as +of impassioned cats. + +Sylvia drew involuntarily closer to Horace; her mother woke with a +start, and the Professor looked up from the brass bottle with returning +irritation. + +"What's this? What's this?" he demanded; "some fresh surprise in store +for us?" + +It was quite as much of a surprise for Horace, but he was spared the +humiliation of owning it by the entrance of some half-dozen dusky +musicians swathed in white and carrying various strangely fashioned +instruments, with which they squatted down in a semi-circle by the +opposite wall, and began to twang, and drub, and squall with the +complacent cacophony of an Eastern orchestra. Clearly Fakrash was +determined that nothing should be wanting to make the entertainment a +complete success. + +"What a very extraordinary noise!" said Mrs. Futvoye; "surely they can't +mean it for music?" + +"Yes, they do," said Horace; "it--it's really more harmonious than it +sounds--you have to get accustomed to the--er--notation. When you do, +it's rather soothing than otherwise." + +"I dare say," said the poor lady. "And do _they_ come from the Stores, +too?" + +"No," said Horace, with a fine assumption of candour, "they don't; they +come from--the Arab Encampment at Earl's Court--parties and _fêtes_ +attended, you know. But they play _here_ for nothing; they--they want to +get their name known, you see; very deserving and respectable set of +fellows." + +"My dear Horace!" remarked Mrs. Futvoye, "if they expect to get +engagements for parties and so on, they really ought to try and learn a +tune of _some_ sort." + +"I understand, Horace," whispered Sylvia, "it's very naughty of you to +have gone to all this trouble and expense (for, of course, it _has_ cost +you a lot) just to please us; but, whatever, dad may say, I love you all +the better for doing it!" + +And her hand stole softly into his, and he felt that he could forgive +Fakrash everything, even--even the orchestra. + +But there was something unpleasantly spectral about their shadowy forms, +which showed in grotesquely baggy and bulgy shapes in the uncertain +light. Some of them wore immense and curious white head-dresses, which +gave them the appearance of poulticed thumbs; and they all went on +scraping and twiddling and caterwauling with a doleful monotony that +Horace felt must be getting on his guests' nerves, as it certainly was +on his own. + +He did not know how to get rid of them, but he sketched a kind of +gesture in the air, intended to intimate that, while their efforts had +afforded the keenest pleasure to the company generally, they were +unwilling to monopolise them any longer, and the artists were at liberty +to retire. + +Perhaps there is no art more liable to misconstruction than pantomime; +certainly, Ventimore's efforts in this direction were misunderstood, for +the music became wilder, louder, more aggressively and abominably out of +tune--and then a worse thing happened. + +For the curtains separated, and, heralded by sharp yelps from the +performers, a female figure floated into the hall and began to dance +with a slow and sinuous grace. + +Her beauty, though of a pronounced Oriental type, was unmistakable, even +in the subdued light which fell on her; her diaphanous robe indicated a +faultless form; her dark tresses were braided with sequins; she had the +long, lustrous eyes, the dusky cheeks artificially whitened, and the +fixed scarlet smile of the Eastern dancing-girl of all time. + +And she paced the floor with her tinkling feet, writhing and undulating +like some beautiful cobra, while the players worked themselves up to yet +higher and higher stages of frenzy. + +Ventimore, as he sat there looking helplessly on, felt a return of his +resentment against the Jinnee. It was really too bad of him; he ought, +at his age, to have known better! + +Not that there was anything objectionable in the performance itself; but +still, it was _not_ the kind of entertainment for such an occasion. +Horace wished now he had mentioned to Fakrash who the guests were whom +he expected, and then perhaps even the Jinnee would have exercised more +tact in his arrangements. + +"And does this girl come from Earl's Court?" inquired Mrs. Futvoye, who +was now thoroughly awake. + +"Oh dear, no," said Horace; "I engaged _her_ at--at Harrod's--the +Entertainment Bureau. They told me there she was rather good--struck out +a line of her own, don't you know. But perfectly correct; she--she only +does this to support an invalid aunt." + +These statements were, as he felt even in making them, not only +gratuitous, but utterly unconvincing, but he had arrived at that +condition in which a man discovers with terror the unsuspected amount of +mendacity latent in his system. + +"I should have thought there were other ways of supporting invalid +aunts," remarked Mrs. Futvoye. "What is this young lady's name?" + +"Tinkler," said Horace, on the spur of the moment. "Miss Clementine +Tinkler." + +"But surely she is a foreigner?" + +"Mademoiselle, I ought to have said. And Tinkla--with an 'a,' you know. +I believe her mother was of Arabian extraction--but I really don't +know," explained Horace, conscious that Sylvia had withdrawn her hand +from his, and was regarding him with covert anxiety. + +"I really _must_ put a stop to this," he thought. + +"You're getting bored by all this, darling," he said aloud; "so am I. +I'll tell them to go." And he rose and held out his hand as a sign that +the dance should cease. + +It ceased at once; but, to his unspeakable horror, the dancer crossed +the floor with a swift jingling rush, and sank in a gauzy heap at his +feet, seizing his hand in both hers and covering it with kisses, while +she murmured speeches in some tongue unknown to him. + +"Is this a usual feature in Miss Tinkla's entertainments, may I ask?" +said Mrs. Futvoye, bristling with not unnatural indignation. + +"I really don't know," said the unhappy Horace; "I can't make out what +she's saying." + +"If I understand her rightly," said the Professor, "she is addressing +you as the 'light of her eyes and the vital spirit of her heart.'" + +"Oh!" said Horace, "she's quite mistaken, you know. It--it's the +emotional artist temperament--they don't _mean_ anything by it. My--my +dear young lady," he added, "you've danced most delightfully, and I'm +sure we're all most deeply indebted to you; but we won't detain you any +longer. Professor," he added, as she made no offer to rise, "_will_ you +kindly explain to them in Arabic that I should be obliged by their going +at once?" + +The Professor said a few words, which had the desired effect. The girl +gave a little scream and scudded through the archway, and the musicians +seized their instruments and scuttled after her. + +"I am so sorry," said Horace, whose evening seemed to him to have been +chiefly spent in apologies; "it's not at all the kind of entertainment +one would expect from a place like Whiteley's." + +"By no means," agreed the Professor; "but I understood you to say Miss +Tinkla was recommended to you by Harrod's?" + +"Very likely, sir," said Horace; "but that doesn't affect the case. I +shouldn't expect it from _them_." + +"Probably they don't know how shamelessly that young person conducts +herself," said Mrs. Futvoye. "And I think it only right that they should +be told." + +"I shall complain, of course," said Horace. "I shall put it very +strongly." + +"A protest would have more weight coming from a woman," said Mrs. +Futvoye; "and, as a shareholder in the company, I shall feel bound----" + +"No, I wouldn't," said Horace; "in fact, you mustn't. For, now I come to +think of it, she didn't come from Harrod's, after all, or Whiteley's +either." + +"Then perhaps you will be good enough to inform us where she _did_ come +from?" + +"I would if I knew," said Horace; "but I don't." + +"What!" cried the Professor, sharply, "do you mean to say you can't +account for the existence of a dancing-girl who--in my daughter's +presence--kisses your hand and addresses you by endearing epithets?" + +"Oriental metaphor!" said Horace. "She was a little overstrung. Of +course, if I had had any idea she would make such a scene as that---- +Sylvia," he broke off, "_you_ don't doubt me?" + +"No, Horace," said Sylvia, simply, "I'm sure you must have _some_ +explanation--only I do think it would be better if you gave it." + +"If I _told_ you the truth," said Horace, slowly, "you would none of you +believe me!" + +"Then you admit," put in the Professor, "that hitherto you have _not_ +been telling the truth?" + +"Not as invariably as I could have wished," Horace confessed. + +"So I suspected. Then, unless you can bring yourself to be perfectly +candid, you can hardly wonder at our asking you to consider your +engagement as broken off?" + +"Broken off!" echoed Horace. "Sylvia, you won't give me up! You _know_ I +wouldn't do anything unworthy of you!" + +"I'm certain that you can't have done anything which would make me love +you one bit the less if I knew it. So why not be quite open with us?" + +"Because, darling," said Horace, "I'm in such a fix that it would only +make matters worse." + +"In that case," said the Professor, "and as it is already rather late, +perhaps you will allow one of your numerous retinue to call a +four-wheeler?" + +Horace clapped his hands, but no one answered the summons, and he could +not find any of the slaves in the antechamber. + +"I'm afraid all the servants have left," he explained; and it is to be +feared he would have added that they were all obliged to return to the +contractor by eleven, only he caught the Professor's eye and decided +that he had better refrain. "If you will wait here, I'll go out and +fetch a cab," he added. + +"There is no occasion to trouble you," said the Professor; "my wife and +daughter have already got their things on, and we will walk until we +find a cab. Now, Mr. Ventimore, we will bid you good-night and good-bye. +For, after what has happened, you will, I trust, have the good taste to +discontinue your visits and make no attempt to see Sylvia again." + +"Upon my honour," protested Horace, "I have done nothing to warrant you +in shutting your doors against me." + +"I am unable to agree with you. I have never thoroughly approved of your +engagement, because, as I told you at the time, I suspected you of +recklessness in money matters. Even in accepting your invitation +to-night I warned you, as you may remember, not to make the occasion an +excuse for foolish extravagance. I come here, and find you in apartments +furnished and decorated (as you informed us) by yourself, and on a scale +which would be prodigal in a millionaire. You have a suite of retainers +which (except for their nationality and imperfect discipline) a prince +might envy. You provide a banquet of--hem!--delicacies which must have +cost you infinite trouble and unlimited expense--this, after I had +expressly stipulated for a quiet family dinner! Not content with that, +you procure for our diversion Arab music and dancing of a--of a highly +recondite character. I should be unworthy of the name of father, sir, +if I were to entrust my only daughter's happiness to a young man with so +little common sense, so little self-restraint. And she will understand +my motives and obey my wishes." + +"You're right, Professor, according to your lights," admitted Horace. +"And yet--confound it all!--you're utterly wrong, too!" + +"Oh, Horace," cried Sylvia; "if you had only listened to dad, and not +gone to all this foolish, foolish expense, we might have been so happy!" + +"But I have gone to no expense. All this hasn't cost me a penny!" + +"Ah, there _is_ some mystery! Horace, if you love me, you will +explain--here, now, before it's too late!" + +"My darling," groaned Horace, "I would, like a shot, if I thought it +would be of the least use!" + +"Hitherto," said the Professor, "you cannot be said to have been happy +in your explanations--and I should advise you not to venture on any +more. Good-night, once more. I only wish it were possible, without +needless irony, to make the customary acknowledgments for a pleasant +evening." + +Mrs. Futvoye had already hurried her daughter away, and, though she had +left her husband to express his sentiments unaided, she made it +sufficiently clear that she entirely agreed with them. + +Horace stood in the outer hall by the fountain, in which his drowned +chrysanthemums were still floating, and gazed in stupefied despair after +his guests as they went down the path to the gate. He knew only too well +that they would never cross his threshold, nor he theirs, again. + +Suddenly he came to himself with a start. "I'll try it!" he cried. "I +can't and won't stand this!" And he rushed after them bareheaded. + +"Professor!" he said breathlessly, as he caught him up, "one moment. On +second thoughts, I _will_ tell you my secret, if you will promise me a +patient hearing." + +"The pavement is hardly the place for confidences," replied the +Professor, "and, if it were, your costume is calculated to attract more +remark than is desirable. My wife and daughter have gone on--if you will +permit me, I will overtake them--I shall be at home to-morrow morning, +should you wish to see me." + +"No--to-night, to-night!" urged Horace. "I can't sleep in that infernal +place with this on my mind. Put Mrs. Futvoye and Sylvia into a cab, +Professor, and come back. It's not late, and I won't keep you long--but +for Heaven's sake, let me tell you my story at once." + +Probably the Professor was not without some curiosity on the subject; at +all events he yielded. "Very well," he said, "go into the house and I +will rejoin you presently. Only remember," he added, "that I shall +accept no statement without the fullest proof. Otherwise you will merely +be wasting your time and mine." + +"Proof!" thought Horace, gloomily, as he returned to his Arabian halls, +"The only decent proof I could produce would be old Fakrash, and he's +not likely to turn up again--especially now I want him." + +A little later the Professor returned, having found a cab and despatched +his women-folk home. "Now, young man," he said, as he unwound his +wrapper and seated himself on the divan by Horace's side, "I can give +you just ten minutes to tell your story in, so let me beg you to make it +as brief and as comprehensible as you can." + +It was not exactly an encouraging invitation in the circumstances, but +Horace took his courage in both hands and told him everything, just as +it had happened. + +"And that's your story?" said the Professor, after listening to the +narrative with the utmost attention, when Horace came to the end. + +"That's my story, sir," said Horace. "And I hope it has altered your +opinion of me." + +"It has," replied the Professor, in an altered tone; "it has indeed. +Yours is a sad case--a very sad case." + +"It's rather awkward, isn't it? But I don't mind so long as you +understand. And you'll tell Sylvia--as much as you think proper?" + +"Yes--yes; I must tell Sylvia." + +"And I may go on seeing her as usual?" + +"Well--will you be guided by my advice--the advice of one who has lived +more than double your years?" + +"Certainly," said Horace. + +"Then, if I were you, I should go away at once, for a complete change of +air and scene." + +"That's impossible, sir--you forget my work!" + +"Never mind your work, my boy: leave it for a while, try a sea-voyage, +go round the world, get quite away from these associations." + +"But I might come across the Jinnee again," objected Horace; "_he's_ +travelling, as I told you." + +"Yes, yes, to be sure. Still, I should go away. Consult any doctor, and +he'll tell you the same thing." + +"Consult any---- Good God!" cried Horace; "I see what it is--you think +I'm mad!" + +"No, no, my dear boy," said the Professor, soothingly, "not mad--nothing +of the sort; perhaps your mental equilibrium is just a trifle--it's +quite intelligible. You see, the sudden turn in your professional +prospects, coupled with your engagement to Sylvia--I've known stronger +minds than yours thrown off their balance--temporarily, of course, quite +temporarily--by less than that." + +"You believe I am suffering from delusions?" + +"I don't say that. I think you may see ordinary things in a distorted +light." + +"Anyhow, you don't believe there really was a Jinnee inside that +bottle?" + +"Remember, you yourself assured me at the time you opened it that you +found nothing whatever inside it. Isn't it more credible that you were +right then than that you should be right now?" + +"Well," said Horace, "you saw all those black slaves; you ate, or tried +to eat, that unutterably beastly banquet; you heard that music--and then +there was the dancing-girl. And this hall we're in, this robe I've got +on--are _they_ delusions? Because if they are, I'm afraid you will have +to admit that _you're_ mad too." + +"Ingeniously put," said the Professor. "I fear it is unwise to argue +with you. Still, I will venture to assert that a strong imagination like +yours, over-heated and saturated with Oriental ideas--to which I fear I +may have contributed--is not incapable of unconsciously assisting in its +own deception. In other words, I think that you may have provided all +this yourself from various quarters without any clear recollection of +the fact." + +"That's very scientific and satisfactory as far as it goes, my dear +Professor," said Horace; "but there's one piece of evidence which may +upset your theory--and that's this brass bottle." + +"If your reasoning powers were in their normal condition," said the +Professor, compassionately, "you would see that the mere production of +an empty bottle can be no proof of what it contained--or, for that +matter, that it ever contained anything at all!" + +"Oh, I see _that_," said Horace; "but _this_ bottle has a stopper with +what you yourself admit to be an inscription of some sort. Suppose that +inscription confirms my story--what then? All I ask you to do is to make +it out for yourself before you decide that I'm either a liar or a +lunatic." + +"I warn you," said the Professor, "that if you are trusting to my being +unable to decipher the inscription, you are deceiving yourself. You +represent that this bottle belongs to the period of Solomon--that is, +about a thousand years B.C. Probably you are not aware that the earliest +specimens of Oriental metal-work in existence are not older than the +tenth century of our era. But, granting that it is as old as you allege, +I shall certainly be able to read any inscription there may be on it. I +have made out clay tablets in Cuneiform which were certainly written a +thousand years before Solomon's time." + +"So much the better," said Horace. "I'm as certain as I can be that, +whatever is written on that lid--whether it's Phoenician, or Cuneiform, +or anything else--must have some reference to a Jinnee confined in the +bottle, or at least bear the seal of Solomon. But there the thing +is--examine it for yourself." + +"Not now," said the Professor; "it's too late, and the light here is not +strong enough. But I'll tell you what I will do. I'll take this stopper +thing home with me, and examine it carefully to-morrow--on one +condition." + +"You have only to name it," said Horace. + +"My condition is, that if I, and one or two other Orientalists to whom I +may submit it, come to the conclusion that there is no real inscription +at all--or, if any, that a date and meaning must be assigned to it +totally inconsistent with your story--you will accept our finding and +acknowledge that you have been under a delusion, and dismiss the whole +affair from your mind." + +"Oh, I don't mind agreeing to _that_," said Horace, "particularly as +it's my only chance." + +"Very well, then," said the Professor, as he removed the metal cap and +put it in his pocket; "you may depend upon hearing from me in a day or +two. Meantime, my boy," he continued, almost affectionately, "why not +try a short bicycle tour somewhere, hey? You're a cyclist, I +know--anything but allow yourself to dwell on Oriental subjects." + +"It's not so easy to avoid dwelling on them as you think!" said Horace, +with rather a dreary laugh. "And I fancy, Professor, that--whether you +like it or not--you'll have to believe in that Jinnee of mine sooner or +later." + +"I can scarcely conceive," replied the Professor, who was by this time +at the outer door, "any degree of evidence which could succeed in +convincing me that your brass bottle had ever contained an Arabian +Jinnee. However, I shall endeavour to preserve an open mind on the +subject. Good evening to you." + +As soon as he was alone, Horace paced up and down his deserted halls in +a state of simmering rage as he thought how eagerly he had looked +forward to his little dinner-party; how intimate and delightful it might +have been, and what a monstrous and prolonged nightmare it had actually +proved. And at the end of it there he was--in a fantastic, impossible +dwelling, deserted by every one, his chances of setting himself right +with Sylvia hanging on the slenderest thread; unknown difficulties and +complications threatening him from every side! + +He owed all this to Fakrash. Yes, that incorrigibly grateful Jinnee, +with his antiquated notions and his high-flown professions, had +contrived to ruin him more disastrously than if he had been his +bitterest foe! Ah! if he could be face to face with him once more--if +only for five minutes--he would be restrained by no false delicacy: he +would tell him fairly and plainly what a meddling, blundering old fool +he was. But Fakrash had taken his flight for ever: there were no means +of calling him back--nothing to be done now but go to bed and sleep--if +he could! + +Exasperated by the sense of his utter helplessness, Ventimore went to +the arch which led to his bed-chamber and drew the curtain back with a +furious pull. And just within the archway, standing erect with folded +arms and the smile of fatuous benignity which Ventimore was beginning to +know and dread, was the form of Fakrash-el-Aamash, the Jinnee! + + + + +CHAPTER X + +NO PLACE LIKE HOME! + + +"May thy head long survive!" said Fakrash, by way of salutation, as he +stepped through the archway. + +"You're very good," said Horace, whose anger had almost evaporated in +the relief of the Jinnee's unexpected return, "but I don't think any +head can survive this sort of thing long." + +"Art thou content with this dwelling I have provided for thee?" inquired +the Jinnee, glancing around the stately hall with perceptible +complacency. + +It would have been positively brutal to say how very far from contented +he felt, so Horace could only mumble that he had never been lodged like +that before in all his life. + +"It is far below thy deserts," Fakrash observed graciously. "And were +thy friends amazed at the manner of their entertainment?" + +"They were," said Horace. + +"A sure method of preserving friends is to feast them with liberality," +remarked the Jinnee. + +This was rather more than Horace's temper could stand. "You were kind +enough to provide my friends with such a feast," he said, "that they'll +never come _here_ again." + +"How so? Were not the meats choice and abounding in fatness? Was not the +wine sweet, and the sherbet like unto perfumed snow?" + +"Oh, everything was--er--as nice as possible," said Horace. "Couldn't +have been better." + +"Yet thou sayest that thy friends will return no more--for what reason?" + +"Well, you see," explained Horace, reluctantly, "there's such a thing +as doing people _too_ well. I mean, it isn't everybody that appreciates +Arabian cooking. But they might have stood that. It was the dancing-girl +that did for me." + +"I commanded that a houri, lovelier than the full moon, and graceful as +a young gazelle, should appear for the delight of thy guests." + +"She came," said Horace, gloomily. + +"Acquaint me with that which hath occurred--for I perceive plainly that +something hath fallen out contrary to thy desires." + +"Well," said Horace, "if it had been a bachelor party, there would have +been no harm in the houri; but, as it happened, two of my guests were +ladies, and they--well, they not unnaturally put a wrong construction on +it all." + +"Verily," exclaimed the Jinnee, "thy words are totally incomprehensible +to me." + +"I don't know what the custom may be in Arabia," said Horace, "but with +us it is not usual for a man to engage a houri to dance after dinner to +amuse the lady he is proposing to marry. It's the kind of attention +she'd be most unlikely to appreciate. + +"Then was one of thy guests the damsel whom thou art seeking to marry?" + +"She was," said Horace, "and the other two were her father and mother. +From which you may imagine that it was not altogether agreeable for me +when your gazelle threw herself at my feet and hugged my knees and +declared that I was the light of her eyes. Of course, it all meant +nothing--it's probably the conventional behaviour for a gazelle, and I'm +not reflecting upon her in the least. But, in the circumstances, it +_was_ compromising." + +"I thought," said Fakrash, "that thou assuredst me that thou wast not +contracted to any damsel?" + +"I think I only said that there was no one whom I would trouble you to +procure as a wife for me," replied Horace; "I certainly was +engaged--though, after this evening, my engagement is at an end--unless +... that reminds me, do you happen to know whether there really _was_ an +inscription on the seal of your bottle, and what it said?" + +"I know naught of any inscription," said the Jinnee; "bring me the seal +that I may see it." + +"I haven't got it by me at this moment," said Horace; "I lent it to my +friend--the father of this young lady I told you of. You see, Mr. +Fakrash, you got me into--I mean, I was in such a hole over this affair +that I was obliged to make a clean breast of it to him. And he wouldn't +believe it, so it struck me that there might be an inscription of some +sort on the seal, saying who you were, and why Solomon had you confined +in the bottle. Then the Professor would be obliged to admit that there's +something in my story." + +"Truly, I wonder at thee and at the smallness of thy penetration," the +Jinnee commented; "for if there were indeed any writing upon this seal, +it is not possible that one of thy race should be able to decipher it." + +"Oh, I beg your pardon," said Horace; "Professor Futvoye is an Oriental +scholar; he can make out any inscription, no matter how many thousands +of years old it may be. If anything's there, he'll decipher it. The +question is whether anything _is_ there." + +The effect of this speech on Fakrash was as unexpected as it was +inexplicable: the Jinnee's features, usually so mild, began to work +convulsively until they became terrible to look at, and suddenly, with a +fierce howl, he shot up to nearly double his ordinary stature. + +"O thou of little sense and breeding!" he cried, in a loud voice; "how +camest thou to deliver the bottle in which I was confined into the hands +of this learned man?" + +Ventimore, startled as he was, did not lose his self-possession. "My +dear sir," he said, "I did not suppose you could have any further use +for it. And, as a matter of fact, I didn't give Professor Futvoye the +bottle--which is over there in the corner--but merely the stopper. I +wish you wouldn't tower over me like that--it gives me a crick in the +neck to talk to you. Why on earth should you make such a fuss about my +lending the seal; what possible difference can it make to you even if it +does confirm my story? And it's of immense importance to _me_ that the +Professor should believe I told the truth." + +"I spoke in haste," said the Jinnee, slowly resuming his normal size, +and looking slightly ashamed of his recent outburst as well as +uncommonly foolish. "The bottle truly is of no value; and as for the +stopper, since it is but lent, it is no great matter. If there be any +legend upon the seal, perchance this learned man of whom thou speakest +will by this time have deciphered it?" + +"No," said Horace, "he won't tackle it till to-morrow. And it's as +likely as not that when he does he won't find any reference to +_you_--and I shall be up a taller tree than ever!" + +"Art thou so desirous that he should receive proof that thy story is +true?" + +"Why, of course I am! Haven't I been saying so all this time?" + +"Who can satisfy him so surely as I?" + +"You!" cried Horace. "Do you mean to say you really would? Mr. Fakrash, +you _are_ an old brick! That would be the very thing!" + +"There is naught," said the Jinnee, smiling indulgently, "that I would +not do to promote thy welfare, for thou hast rendered me inestimable +service. Acquaint me therefore with the abode of this sage, and I will +present myself before him, and if haply he should find no inscription +upon the seal, or its purport should be hidden from him, then will I +convince him that thou hast spoken the truth and no lie." + +Horace very willingly gave him the Professor's address. "Only don't +drop in on him to-night, you know," he thought it prudent to add, "or +you might startle him. Call any time after breakfast to-morrow, and +you'll find him in." + +"To-night," said Fakrash, "I return to pursue my search after Suleyman +(on whom be peace!). For not yet have I found him." + +"If you _will_ try to do so many things at once," said Horace, "I don't +see how you can expect much result." + +"At Nineveh they knew him not--for where I left a city I found but a +heap of ruins, tenanted by owls and bats." + +"_They say the lion and the lizard keep the Courts_----" murmured +Horace, half to himself. "I was afraid you might be disappointed with +Nineveh myself. Why not run over to Sheba? You might hear of him there." + +"Seba of El-Yemen--the country of Bilkees, the Queen beloved of +Suleyman," said the Jinnee. "It is an excellent suggestion, and I will +follow it without delay." + +"But you won't forget to look in on Professor Futvoye to-morrow, will +you?" + +"Assuredly I will not. And now, ere I depart, tell me if there be any +other service I may render thee." + +Horace hesitated. "There _is_ just one," he said, "only I'm afraid +you'll be offended if I mention it." + +"On the head and the eye be thy commands!" said the Jinnee; "for +whatsoever thou desirest shall be accomplished, provided that it lie +within my power to perform it." + +"Well," said Horace, "if you're sure you don't mind, I'll tell you. +You've transformed this house into a wonderful place, more like the +Alhambra--I don't mean the one in Leicester Square--than a London +lodging-house. But then I am only a lodger here, and the people the +house belongs to--excellent people in their way--would very much rather +have the house as it was. They have a sort of idea that they won't be +able to let these rooms as easily as the others." + +"Base and sordid dogs!" said the Jinnee, with contempt. + +"Possibly," said Horace, "it's narrow-minded of them--but that's the way +they look at it. They've actually left rather than stay here. And it's +_their_ house--not mine." + +"If they abandon this dwelling, thou wilt remain in the more secure +possession." + +"Oh, _shall_ I, though? They'll go to law and have me turned out, and I +shall have to pay ruinous damages into the bargain. So, you see, what +you intended as a kindness will only bring me bad luck." + +"Come--without more words--to the statement of thy request," said +Fakrash, "for I am in haste." + +"All I want you to do," replied Horace, in some anxiety as to what the +effect of his request would be, "is to put everything here back to what +it was before. It won't take you a minute." + +"Of a truth," exclaimed Fakrash, "to bestow a favour upon thee is but a +thankless undertaking, for not once, but twice, hast thou rejected my +benefits--and now, behold, I am at a loss to devise means to gratify +thee!" + +"I know I've abused your good nature," said Horace; "but if you'll only +do this, and then convince the Professor that my story is true, I shall +be more than satisfied. I'll never ask another favour of you!" + +"My benevolence towards thee hath no bounds--as thou shalt see; and I +can deny thee nothing, for truly thou art a worthy and temperate young +man. Farewell, then, and be it according to thy desire." + +He raised his arms above his head, and shot up like a rocket towards the +lofty dome, which split asunder to let him pass. Horace, as he gazed +after him, had a momentary glimpse of deep blue sky, with a star or two +that seemed to be hurrying through the transparent opal scud, before +the roof closed in once more. + +Then came a low, rumbling sound, with a shock like a mild earthquake: +the slender pillars swayed under their horseshoe arches; the big +hanging-lanterns went out; the walls narrowed, and the floor heaved and +rose--till Ventimore found himself up in his own familiar sitting-room +once more, in the dark. Outside he could see the great square still +shrouded in grey haze--the street lamps flickering in the wind; a +belated reveller was beguiling his homeward way by rattling his stick +against the railings as he passed. + +Inside the room everything was exactly as before, and Horace found it +difficult to believe that a few minutes earlier he had been standing on +that same site, but twenty feet or so below his present level, in a +spacious blue-tiled hall, with a domed ceiling and gaudy pillared +arches. + +But he was very far from regretting his short-lived splendour; he burnt +with shame and resentment whenever he thought of that nightmare banquet, +which was so unlike the quiet, unpretentious little dinner he had looked +forward to. + +However, it was over now, and it was useless to worry himself about what +could not be helped. Besides, fortunately, there was no great harm done; +the Jinnee had been brought to see his mistake, and, to do him justice, +had shown himself willing enough to put it right. He had promised to go +and see the Professor next day, and the result of the interview could +not fail to be satisfactory. And after this, Ventimore thought, Fakrash +would have the sense and good feeling not to interfere in his affairs +again. + +Meanwhile he could sleep now with a mind free from his worst anxieties, +and he went to his room in a spirit of intense thankfulness that he had +a Christian bed to sleep in. He took off his gorgeous robes--the only +things that remained to prove to him that the events of that evening had +been no delusion--and locked them in his wardrobe with a sense of +relief that he would never be required to wear them again, and his last +conscious thought before he fell asleep was the comforting reflection +that, if there were any barrier between Sylvia and himself, it would be +removed in the course of a very few more hours. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A FOOL'S PARADISE + + +Ventimore found next morning that his bath and shaving-water had been +brought up, from which he inferred, quite correctly, that his landlady +must have returned. + +Secretly he was by no means looking forward to his next interview with +her, but she appeared with his bacon and coffee in a spirit so evidently +chastened that he saw that he would have no difficulty so far as she was +concerned. + +"I'm sure, Mr. Ventimore, sir," she began, apologetically, "I don't know +what you must have thought of me and Rapkin last night, leaving the +house like we did!" + +"It was extremely inconvenient," said Horace, "and not at all what I +should have expected from you. But possibly you had some reason for it?" + +"Why, sir," said Mrs. Rapkin, running her hand nervously along the back +of a chair, "the fact is, something come over me, and come over Rapkin, +as we couldn't stop here another minute not if it was ever so." + +"Ah!" said Horace, raising his eyebrows, "restlessness--eh, Mrs. Rapkin? +Awkward that it should come on just then, though, wasn't it?" + +"It was the look of the place, somehow," said Mrs. Rapkin. "If you'll +believe me, sir, it was all changed like--nothing in it the same from +top to bottom!" + +"Really?" said Horace. "I don't notice any difference myself." + +"No more don't I, sir, not by daylight; but last night it was all domes +and harches and marble fountings let into the floor, with parties +moving about downstairs all silent and as black as your hat--which +Rapkin saw them as well as what I did." + +"From the state your husband was in last night," said Horace, "I should +say he was capable of seeing anything--and double of most things." + +"I won't deny, sir, that Rapkin mayn't have been quite hisself, as a +very little upsets him after he's spent an afternoon studying the papers +and what-not at the libery. But I see the niggers too, Mr. Ventimore, +and no one can say _I_ ever take more than is good for me." + +"I don't suggest that for a moment, Mrs. Rapkin," said Horace; "only, if +the house was as you describe last night, how do you account for its +being all right this morning?" + +Mrs. Rapkin in her embarrassment was reduced to folding her apron into +small pleats. "It's not for me to say, sir," she replied, "but, if I was +to give my opinion, it would be as them parties as called 'ere on camels +the other day was at the bottom of it." + +"I shouldn't wonder if you were right, Mrs. Rapkin," said Horace +blandly; "you see, you had been exerting yourself over the cooking, and +no doubt were in an over-excited state, and, as you say, those camels +had taken hold of your imagination until you were ready to see anything +that Rapkin saw, and _he_ was ready to see anything _you_ did. It's not +at all uncommon. Scientific people, I believe, call it 'Collective +Hallucination.'" + +"Law, sir!" said the good woman, considerably impressed by this +diagnosis, "you don't mean to say I had _that_? I was always fanciful +from a girl, and could see things in coffee-grounds as nobody else +could--but I never was took like that before. And to think of me leaving +my dinner half cooked, and you expecting your young lady and her pa and +ma! Well, _there_, now, I _am_ sorry. Whatever did you do, sir?" + +"We managed to get food of sorts from somewhere," said Horace, "but it +was most uncomfortable for me, and I trust, Mrs. Rapkin--I sincerely +trust that it will not occur again." + +"That I'll answer for it shan't, sir. And you won't take no notice to +Rapkin, sir, will you? Though it was his seein' the niggers and that as +put it into my 'ed; but I 'ave spoke to him pretty severe already, and +he's truly sorry and ashamed for forgetting hisself as he did." + +"Very well, Mrs. Rapkin," said Horace; "we will understand that last +night's--hem--rather painful experience is not to be alluded to +again--on either side." + +He felt sincerely thankful to have got out of it so easily, for it was +impossible to say what gossip might not have been set on foot if the +Rapkins had not been brought to see the advisability of reticence on the +subject. + +"There's one more thing, sir, I wished for to speak to you about," said +Mrs. Rapkin; "that great brass vawse as you bought at an oction some +time back. I dunno if you remember it?" + +"I remember it," said Horace. "Well, what about it?" + +"Why, sir, I found it in the coal-cellar this morning, and I thought I'd +ask if that was where you wished it kep' in future. For, though no +amount o' polish could make it what I call a tasty thing, it's neither +horniment nor yet useful where it is at present." + +"Oh," said Horace, rather relieved, for he had an ill-defined dread from +her opening words that the bottle might have been misbehaving itself in +some way. "Put it wherever you please, Mrs. Rapkin; do whatever you like +with it--so long as I don't see the thing again!" + +"Very good, sir; I on'y thought I'd ask the question," said Mrs. Rapkin, +as she closed the door upon herself. + +Altogether, Horace walked to Great Cloister Street that morning in a +fairly cheerful mood and amiably disposed, even towards the Jinnee. With +all his many faults, he was a thoroughly good-natured old devil--very +superior in every way to the one the Arabian Nights fisherman found in +_his_ bottle. + +"Ninety-nine Jinn out of a hundred," thought Horace, "would have turned +nasty on finding benefit after benefit 'declined with thanks.' But one +good point in Fakrash is that he _does_ take a hint in good part, and, +as soon as he can be made to see where he's wrong, he's always ready to +set things right. And he thoroughly understands now that these Oriental +dodges of his won't do nowadays, and that when people see a penniless +man suddenly wallowing in riches they naturally want to know how he came +by them. I don't suppose he will trouble me much in future. If he should +look in now and then, I must put up with it. Perhaps, if I suggested it, +he wouldn't mind coming in some form that would look less outlandish. If +he would get himself up as a banker, or a bishop--the Bishop of Bagdad, +say--I shouldn't care how often he called. Only, I can't have him coming +down the chimney in either capacity. But he'll see that himself. And +he's done me one real service--I mustn't let myself forget that. He sent +me old Wackerbath. By the way, I wonder if he's seen my designs yet, and +what he thinks of them." + +He was at his table, engaged in jotting down some rough ideas for the +decoration of the reception-rooms in the projected house, when Beevor +came in. + +"I've got nothing doing just now," he said; "so I thought I'd come in +and have a squint at those plans of yours, if they're forward enough to +be seen yet." + +Ventimore had to explain that even the imperfect method of examination +proposed was not possible, as he had despatched the drawings to his +client the night before. + +"Phew!" said Beevor; "that's sharp work, isn't it?" + +"I don't know. I've been sticking hard at it for over a fortnight." + +"Well, you might have given me a chance of seeing what you've made of +it. I let you see all _my_ work!" + +"To tell you the honest truth, old fellow, I wasn't at all sure you'd +like it, and I was afraid you'd put me out of conceit with what I'd +done, and Wackerbath was in a frantic hurry to have the plans--so there +it was." + +"And do you think he'll be satisfied with them?" + +"He ought to be. I don't like to be cock-sure, but I believe--I really +do believe--that I've given him rather more than he expected. It's going +to be a devilish good house, though I say it myself." + +"Something new-fangled and fantastic, eh? Well, he mayn't care about it, +you know. When you've had my experience, you'll realise that a client is +a rum bird to satisfy." + +"I shall satisfy _my_ old bird," said Horace, gaily. "He'll have a cage +he can hop about in to his heart's content." + +"You're a clever chap enough," said Beevor; "but to carry a big job like +this through you want one thing--and that's ballast." + +"Not while you heave yours at my head! Come, old fellow, you aren't +really riled because I sent off those plans without showing them to you? +I shall soon have them back, and then you can pitch into 'em as much as +you please. Seriously, though, I shall want all the help you can spare +when I come to the completed designs." + +"'Um," said Beevor, "you've got along very well alone so far--at least, +by your own account; so I dare say you'll be able to manage without me +to the end. Only, you know," he added, as he left the room, "you haven't +won your spurs yet. A fellow isn't necessarily a Gilbert Scott, or a +Norman Shaw, or a Waterhouse just because he happens to get a +sixty-thousand pound job the first go off!" + +"Poor old Beevor!" thought Horace, repentantly, "I've put his back up. +I might just as well have shown him the plans, after all; it wouldn't +have hurt me and it would have pleased _him_. Never mind, I'll make my +peace with him after lunch. I'll ask him to give me his idea for a--no, +hang it all, even friendship has its limits!" + +He returned from lunch to hear what sounded like an altercation of some +sort in his office, in which, as he neared his door, Beevor's voice was +distinctly audible. + +"My dear sir," he was saying, "I have already told you that it is no +affair of mine." + +"But I ask you, sir, as a brother architect," said another voice, +"whether you consider it professional or reasonable----?" + +"As a brother architect," replied Beevor, as Ventimore opened the door, +"I would rather be excused from giving an opinion.... Ah, here is Mr. +Ventimore himself." + +Horace entered, to find himself confronted by Mr. Wackerbath, whose face +was purple and whose white whiskers were bristling with rage. "So, sir!" +he began. "So, sir!----" and choked ignominiously. + +"There appears to have been some misunderstanding, my dear Ventimore," +explained Beevor, with a studious correctness which was only a shade +less offensive than open triumph. "I think I'd better leave you and this +gentleman to talk it over quietly." + +"Quietly?" exclaimed Mr. Wackerbath, with an apoplectic snort; +"_quietly!!_" + +"I've no idea what you are so excited about, sir," said Horace. "Perhaps +you will explain?" + +"Explain!" Mr. Wackerbath gasped; "why--no, if I speak just now, I shall +be ill: _you_ tell him," he added, waving a plump hand in Beevor's +direction. + +"I'm not in possession of all the facts," said Beevor, smoothly; "but, +so far as I can gather, this gentleman thinks that, considering the +importance of the work he intrusted to your hands, you have given less +time to it than he might have expected. As I have told him, that is a +matter which does not concern me, and which he must discuss with you." + +So saying, Beevor retired to his own room, and shut the door with the +same irreproachable discretion, which conveyed that he was not in the +least surprised, but was too much of a gentleman to show it. + +"Well, Mr. Wackerbath," began Horace, when they were alone, "so you're +disappointed with the house?" + +"Disappointed!" said Mr. Wackerbath, furiously. "I am disgusted, sir, +disgusted!" + +Horace's heart sank lower still; had he deceived himself after all, +then? Had he been nothing but a conceited fool, and--most galling +thought of all--had Beevor judged him only too accurately? And yet, no, +he could not believe it--he _knew_ his work was good! + +"This is plain speaking with a vengeance," he said; "I'm sorry you're +dissatisfied. I did my best to carry out your instructions." + +"Oh, you did?" sputtered Mr. Wackerbath. "That's what you call--but go +on, sir, _go_ on!" + +"I got it done as quickly as possible," continued Horace, "because I +understood you wished no time to be lost." + +"No one can accuse you of dawdling over it. What I should like to know +is how the devil you managed to get it done in the time?" + +"I worked incessantly all day and every day," said Horace. "That's how I +managed it--and this is all the thanks I get for it!" + +"Thanks?" Mr. Wackerbath well-nigh howled. "You--you insolent young +charlatan; you expect thanks!" + +"Now look here, Mr. Wackerbath," said Horace, whose own temper was +getting a little frayed. "I'm not accustomed to being treated like this, +and I don't intend to submit to it. Just tell me--in as moderate +language as you can command--what you object to?" + +"I object to the whole damned thing, sir! I mean, I repudiate the entire +concern. It's the work of a raving lunatic--a place that no English +gentleman, sir, with any self-respect or--ah!--consideration for his +reputation and position in the county, could consent to occupy for a +single hour!" + +"Oh," said Horace, feeling deathly sick, "in that case it is useless, of +course, to suggest any modifications." + +"Absolutely!" said Mr. Wackerbath. + +"Very well, then; there's no more to be said," replied Horace. "You will +have no difficulty in finding an architect who will be more successful +in realising your intentions. Mr. Beevor, the gentleman you met just +now," he added, with a touch of bitterness, "would probably be just your +man. Of course I retire altogether. And really, if any one is the +sufferer over this, I fancy it's myself. I can't see how you are any the +worse." + +"Not any the worse?" cried Mr. Wackerbath, "when the infernal place is +built!" + +"Built!" echoed Horace feebly. + +"I tell you, sir, I saw it with my own eyes driving to the station this +morning; my coachman and footman saw it; my wife saw it--damn it, sir, +we _all_ saw it!" + +Then Horace understood. His indefatigable Jinnee had been at work again! +Of course, for Fakrash it must have been what he would term "the easiest +of affairs"--especially after a glance at the plans (and Ventimore +remembered that the Jinnee had surprised him at work upon them, and even +requested to have them explained to him)--to dispense with contractors +and bricklayers and carpenters, and construct the entire building in the +course of a single night. + +It was a generous and spirited action--but, particularly now that the +original designs had been found faulty and rejected, it placed the +unfortunate architect in a most invidious position. + +"Well, sir," said Mr. Wackerbath, with elaborate irony, "I presume it +is you whom I have to thank for improving my land by erecting this +precious palace on it?" + +"I--I----" began Horace, utterly broken down; and then he saw, with +emotions that may be imagined, the Jinnee himself, in his green robes, +standing immediately behind Mr. Wackerbath. + +"Greeting to you," said Fakrash, coming forward with his smile of +amiable cunning. "If I mistake not," he added, addressing the startled +estate agent, who had jumped visibly, "thou art the merchant for whom my +son here," and he laid a hand on Horace's shrinking shoulder, "undertook +to construct a mansion?" + +"I am," said Mr. Wackerbath, in some mystification. "Have I the pleasure +of addressing Mr. Ventimore, senior?" + +"No, no," put in Horace; "no relation. He's a sort of informal partner." + +"Hast thou not found him an architect of divine gifts?" inquired the +Jinnee, beaming with pride. "Is not the palace that he hath raised for +thee by his transcendent accomplishments a marvel of beauty and +stateliness, and one that Sultans might envy?" + +"No, sir!" shouted the infuriated Mr. Wackerbath; "since you ask my +opinion, it's nothing of the sort! It's a ridiculous tom-fool cross +between the palm-house at Kew and the Brighton Pavilion! There's no +billiard-room, and not a decent bedroom in the house. I've been all over +it, so I ought to know; and as for drainage, there isn't a sign of it. +And he has the brass--ah, I should say, the unblushing effrontery--to +call that a country house!" + +Horace's dismay was curiously shot with relief. The Jinnee, who was +certainly very far from being a genius except by courtesy, had taken it +upon himself to erect the palace according to his own notions of Arabian +domestic luxury--and Horace, taught by bitter experience, could +sympathise to some extent with his unfortunate client. On the other +hand, it was balm to his smarting self-respect to find that it was not +his own plans, after all, which had been found so preposterous; and, by +some obscure mental process, which I do not propose to explain, he +became reconciled, and almost grateful, to the officious Fakrash. And +then, too, he was _his_ Jinnee, and Horace had no intention of letting +him be bullied by an outsider. + +"Let me explain, Mr. Wackerbath," he said. "Personally I've had nothing +to do with this. This gentleman, wishing to spare me the trouble, has +taken upon himself to build your house for you, without consulting +either of us, and, from what I know of his powers in the direction, I've +no doubt that--that it's a devilish fine place, in its way. Anyhow, we +make no charge for it--he presents it to you as a free gift. Why not +accept it as such and make the best of it?" + +"Make the best of it?" stormed Mr. Wackerbath. "Stand by and see the +best site in three counties defaced by a jimcrack Moorish nightmare like +that! Why, they'll call it 'Wackerbath's Folly,' sir. I shall be the +laughing-stock of the neighbourhood. I can't live in the beastly +building. I couldn't afford to keep it up, and I won't have it cumbering +my land. Do you hear? _I won't!_ I'll go to law, cost me what it may, +and compel you and your Arabian friends there to pull the thing down. +I'll take the case up to the House of Lords, if necessary, and fight you +as long as I can stand!" + +"As long as thou canst stand!" repeated Fakrash, gently. "That is a long +time truly, O thou litigious one!... On all fours, ungrateful dog that +thou art!" he cried, with an abrupt and entire change of manner, "and +crawl henceforth for the remainder of thy days. I, Fakrash-el-Aamash, +command thee!" + +It was both painful and grotesque to see the portly and intensely +respectable Mr. Wackerbath suddenly drop forward on his hands while +desperately striving to preserve his dignity. "How dare you, sir?" he +almost barked, "how _dare_ you, I say? Are you aware that I could summon +you for this? Let me up. I _insist_ upon getting up!" + +"O contemptible in aspect!" replied the Jinnee, throwing open the door. +"Begone to thy kennel." + +"I won't! I can't!" whimpered the unhappy man. "How do you expect +me--me!--to cross Westminster Bridge on all fours? What will the +officials think at Waterloo, where I have been known and respected for +years? How am I to face my family in--in this position? Do, for mercy's +sake, let me get up!" + +Horace had been too shocked and startled to speak before, but now +humanity, coupled with disgust for the Jinnee's high-handed methods, +compelled him to interfere. "Mr. Fakrash," he said, "this has gone far +enough. Unless you stop tormenting this unfortunate gentleman, I've done +with you." + +"Never," said Fakrash. "He hath dared to abuse my palace, which is far +too sumptuous a dwelling for such a son of a burnt dog as he. Therefore, +I will make his abode to be in the dust for ever." + +"But I _don't_ find fault," yelped poor Mr. Wackerbath. "You--you +entirely misunderstood the--the few comments I ventured to make. It's a +capital mansion, handsome, and yet 'homey,' too. I'll never say another +word against it. I'll--yes, I'll _live_ in it--if only you'll let me +up?" + +"Do as he asks you," said Horace to the Jinnee, "or I swear I'll never +speak to you again." + +"Thou art the arbiter of this matter," was the reply. "And if I yield, +it is at thy intercession, and not his. Rise then," he said to the +humiliated client; "depart, and show us the breadth of thy shoulders." + +It was this precise moment which Beevor, who was probably unable to +restrain his curiosity any longer, chose to re-enter the room. "Oh, +Ventimore," he began, "did I leave my----?... I beg your pardon. I +thought you were alone again." + +"Don't go, sir," said Mr. Wackerbath, as he scrambled awkwardly to his +feet, his usually florid face mottled in grey and lilac. "I--I should +like you to know that, after talking things quietly over with your +friend Mr. Ventimore and his partner here, I am thoroughly convinced +that my objections were quite untenable. I retract all I said. +The house is--ah--admirably planned: _most_ convenient, roomy, +and--ah--unconventional. The--the entire freedom from all sanitary +appliances is a particular recommendation. In short, I am more than +satisfied. Pray forget anything I may have said which might be taken to +imply the contrary.... Gentlemen, good afternoon!" + +He bowed himself past the Jinnee in a state of deference and +apprehension, and was heard stumbling down the staircase. Horace hardly +dared to meet Beevor's eyes, which were fixed upon the green-turbaned +Jinnee, as he stood apart in dreamy abstraction, smiling placidly to +himself. + +"I say," Beevor said to Horace, at last, in an undertone, "you never +told me you had gone into partnership." + +"He's not a regular partner," whispered Ventimore; "he does odd things +for me occasionally, that's all." + +"He soon managed to smooth your client down," remarked Beevor. + +"Yes," said Horace; "he's an Oriental, you see, and, he has a--a very +persuasive manner. Would you like to be introduced?" + +"If it's all the same to you," replied Beevor, still below his voice, +"I'd rather be excused. To tell you the truth, old fellow, I don't +altogether fancy the looks of him, and it's my opinion," he added, "that +the less you have to do with him the better. He strikes me as a +wrong'un, old man." + +"No, no," said Horace; "eccentric, that's all--you don't understand +him." + +"Receive news!" began the Jinnee, after Beevor, with suspicion and +disapproval evident even on his back and shoulders, had retreated to +his own room, "Suleyman, the son of Daood, sleeps with his fathers." + +"I know," retorted Horace, whose nerves were unequal to much reference +to Solomon just then. "So does Queen Anne." + +"I have not heard of her. But art thou not astounded, then, by my +tidings?" + +"I have matters nearer home to think about," said Horace, dryly. "I must +say, Mr. Fakrash, you have landed me in a pretty mess!" + +"Explain thyself more fully, for I comprehend thee not." + +"Why on earth," Horace groaned, "couldn't you let me build that house my +own way?" + +"Did I not hear thee with my own ears lament thy inability to perform +the task? Thereupon, I determined that no disgrace should fall upon thee +by reason of such incompetence, since I myself would erect a palace so +splendid that it should cause thy name to live for ever. And, behold, it +is done." + +"It is," said Horace. "And so am I. I don't want to reproach you. I +quite feel that you have acted with the best intentions; but, oh, hang +it all! _can't_ you see that you've absolutely wrecked my career as an +architect?" + +"That is a thing that cannot be," returned the Jinnee, "seeing that thou +hast all the credit." + +"The credit! This is England, not Arabia. What credit can I gain from +being supposed to be the architect of an Oriental pavilion, which might +be all very well for Haroun-al-Raschid, but I can assure you is +preposterous as a home for an average Briton?" + +"Yet that overfed hound," remarked the Jinnee, "expressed much +gratification therewith." + +"Naturally, after he had found that he could not give a candid opinion +except on all-fours. A valuable testimonial, that! And how do you +suppose I can take his money? No, Mr. Fakrash, if I have to go on +all-fours myself for it, I must say, and I will say, that you've made a +most frightful muddle of it!" + +"Acquaint me with thy wishes," said Fakrash, a little abashed, "for thou +knowest that I can refuse thee naught." + +"Then," said Horace, boldly, "couldn't you remove that palace--dissipate +it into space or something?" + +"Verily," said the Jinnee, in an aggravated tone, "to do good acts unto +such as thee is but wasted time, for thou givest me no peace till they +are undone!" + +"This is the last time," urged Horace; "I promise never to ask you for +anything again." + +"Not for the first time hast thou made such a promise," said Fakrash. +"And save for the magnitude of thy service unto me, I would not hearken +to this caprice of thine, nor wilt thou find me so indulgent on another +occasion. But for this once"--and he muttered some words and made a +sweeping gesture with his right hand--"thy desire is granted unto thee. +Of the palace and all that is therein there remaineth no trace!" + +"Another surprise for poor old Wackerbath," thought Horace, "but a +pleasant one this time. My dear Mr. Fakrash," he said aloud, "I really +can't say how grateful I am to you. And now--I hate bothering you like +this, but if you _could_ manage to look in on Professor Futvoye----" + +"What!" cried the Jinnee, "yet another request? Already!" + +"Well, you promised you'd do that before, you know!" said Horace. + +"For that matter," remarked Fakrash, "I have already fulfilled my +promise." + +"You have?" Horace exclaimed. "And does he believe now that it's all +true about that bottle?" + +"When I left him," answered the Jinnee, "all his doubts were removed." + +"By Jove, you _are_ a trump!" cried Horace, only too glad to be able to +commend with sincerity. "And do you think, if I went to him now, I +should find him the same as usual?" + +"Nay," said Fakrash, with his weak and yet inscrutable smile, "that is +more than I can promise thee." + +"But why?" asked Horace, "if he knows all?" + +There was the oddest expression in the Jinnee's furtive eyes: a kind of +elfin mischief combined with a sense of wrong-doing, like a naughty +child whose palate is still reminiscent of illicit jam. "Because," he +replied, with a sound between a giggle and a chuckle, "because, in order +to overcome his unbelief, it was necessary to transform him into a +one-eyed mule of hideous appearance." + +"_What!_" cried Horace. But, whether to avoid thanks or explanations, +the Jinnee had disappeared with his customary abruptness. + +"Fakrash!" shouted Horace, "Mr. Fakrash! Come back! Do you hear? I +_must_ speak to you!" There was no answer; the Jinnee might be well on +his way to Lake Chad, or Jericho, by that time--he was certainly far +enough from Great Cloister Street. + +Horace sat down at his drawing-table, and, his head buried in his hands, +tried to think out this latest complication. Fakrash had transformed +Professor Futvoye into a one-eyed mule. It would have seemed incredible, +almost unthinkable, once, but so many impossibilities had happened to +Horace of late that one more made little or no strain upon his +credulity. + +What he felt chiefly was the new barrier that this event must raise +between himself and Sylvia; to do him justice, the mere fact that the +father of his _fiancée_ was a mule did not lessen his ardour in the +slightest. Even if he had felt no personal responsibility for the +calamity, he loved Sylvia far too well to be deterred by it, and few +family cupboards are without a skeleton of some sort. + +With courage and the determination to look only on the bright side of +things, almost any domestic drawback can be lived down. + +But the real point, as he instantly recognised, was whether in the +changed condition of circumstances Sylvia would consent to marry _him_. +Might she not, after the experiences of that abominable dinner of his +the night before, connect him in some way with her poor father's +transformation? She might even suspect him of employing this means of +compelling the Professor to renew their engagement; and, indeed, Horace +was by no means certain himself that the Jinnee might not have acted +from some muddle-headed motive of this kind. It was likely enough that +the Professor, after learning the truth, should have refused to allow +his daughter to marry the _protégé_ of so dubious a patron, and that +Fakrash had then resorted to pressure. + +In any case, Ventimore knew Sylvia well enough to feel sure that pride +would steel her heart against him so long as this obstacle remained. + +It would be unseemly to set down here all that Horace said and thought +of the person who had brought all this upon them, but after some wild +and futile raving he became calm enough to recognise that his proper +place was by Sylvia's side. Perhaps he ought to have told her at first, +and then she would have been less unprepared for this--and yet how could +he trouble her mind so long as he could cling to the hope that the +Jinnee would cease to interfere? + +But now he could be silent no longer; naturally the prospect of calling +at Cottesmore Gardens just then was anything but agreeable, but he felt +it would be cowardly to keep away. + +Besides, he could cheer them up; he could bring with him a message of +hope. No doubt they believed that the Professor's transformation would +be permanent--a harrowing prospect for so united a family; but, +fortunately, Horace would be able to reassure them on this point. + +Fakrash had always revoked his previous performances as soon as he could +be brought to understand their fatuity--and Ventimore would take good +care that he revoked this. + +Nevertheless, it was with a sinking heart and an unsteady hand that he +pulled the visitors' bell at the Futvoyes' house that afternoon, for he +neither knew in what state he should find that afflicted family, nor how +they would regard his intrusion at such a time. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE MESSENGER OF HOPE + + +Jessie, the neat and pretty parlour-maid, opened the door with a smile +of welcome which Horace found reassuring. No girl, he thought, whose +master had suddenly been transformed into a mule could possibly smile +like that. The Professor, she told him, was not at home, which again was +comforting. For a _savant_, however careless about his personal +appearance, would scarcely venture to brave public opinion in the +semblance of a quadruped. + +"Is the Professor out?" he inquired, to make sure. + +"Not exactly out, sir," said the maid, "but particularly engaged, +working hard in his study, and not to be disturbed on no account." + +This was encouraging, too, since a mule could hardly engage in literary +labour of any kind. Evidently the Jinnee must either have overrated his +supernatural powers, or else have been deliberately amusing himself at +Horace's expense. + +"Then I will see Miss Futvoye," he said. + +"Miss Sylvia is with the master, sir," said the girl; "but if you'll +come into the drawing-room I'll let Mrs. Futvoye know you are here." + +He had not been in the drawing-room long before Mrs. Futvoye appeared, +and one glance at her face confirmed Ventimore's worst fears. Outwardly +she was calm enough, but it was only too obvious that her calmness was +the result of severe self-repression; her eyes, usually so shrewdly and +placidly observant, had a haggard and hunted look; her ears seemed on +the strain to catch some distant sound. + +"I hardly thought we should see you to-day," she began, in a tone of +studied reserve; "but perhaps you came to offer some explanation of the +extraordinary manner in which you thought fit to entertain us last +night? If so----" + +"The fact is," said Horace, looking into his hat, "I came because I was +rather anxious about the Professor. + +"About my husband?" said the poor lady, with a really heroic effort to +appear surprised. "He is--as well as could be expected. Why should you +suppose otherwise?" she asked, with a flash of suspicion. + +"I fancied perhaps that--that he mightn't be quite himself to-day," said +Horace, with his eyes on the carpet. + +"I see," said Mrs. Futvoye, regaining her composure; "you were afraid +that all those foreign dishes might not have agreed with him. +But--except that he is a little irritable this afternoon--he is much as +usual." + +"I'm delighted to hear it," said Horace, with reviving hope. "Do you +think he would see me for a moment?" + +"Great heavens, no!" cried Mrs. Futvoye, with an irrepressible start; "I +mean," she explained, "that, after what took place last night, +Anthony--my husband--very properly feels that an interview would be too +painful." + +"But when we parted he was perfectly friendly." + +"I can only say," replied the courageous woman, "that you would find him +considerably altered now." + +Horace had no difficulty in believing it. + +"At least, I may see Sylvia?" he pleaded. + +"No," said Mrs. Futvoye; "I really can't have Sylvia disturbed just now. +She is very busy, helping her father. Anthony has to read a paper at one +of his societies to-morrow night, and she is writing it out from his +dictation." + +If any departure from strict truth can ever be excusable, this surely +was one; unfortunately, just then Sylvia herself burst into the room. + +"Mother," she cried, without seeing Horace in her agitation, "do come +to papa, quick! He has just begun kicking again, and I can't manage him +alone.... Oh, _you_ here?" she broke off, as she saw who was in the +room. "Why do you come here now, Horace? Please, _please_ go away! Papa +is rather unwell--nothing serious, only--oh, _do_ go away!" + +"Darling!" said Horace, going to her and taking both her hands, "I know +all--do you understand?--_all_!" + +"Mamma!" cried Sylvia, reproachfully, "have you told him--already? When +we settled that even Horace wasn't to know till--till papa recovers!" + +"I have told him nothing, my dear," replied her mother. "He can't +possibly know, unless--but no, that isn't possible. And, after all," she +added, with a warning glance at her daughter, "I don't know why we +should make any mystery about a mere attack of gout. But I had better go +and see if your father wants anything." And she hurried out of the room. + +Sylvia sat down and gazed silently into the fire. "I dare say you don't +know how dreadfully people kick when they've got gout," she remarked +presently. + +"Oh yes, I do," said Horace, sympathetically; "at least, I can guess." + +"Especially when it's in both legs," continued Sylvia. + +"Or," said Horace gently, "in all four." + +"Ah, you _do_ know!" cried Sylvia. "Then it's all the more horrid of you +to come!" + +"Dearest," said Horace, "is not this just the time when my place should +be near you--and him?" + +"Not near papa, Horace!" she put in anxiously; "it wouldn't be at all +safe." + +"Do you really think I have any fear for myself?" + +"Are you sure you quite know--what he is like now?" + +"I understand," said Horace, trying to put it as considerately as +possible, "that a casual observer, who didn't know your father, might +mistake him, at first sight, for--for some sort of quadruped." + +"He's a mule," sobbed Sylvia, breaking down entirely. "I could bear it +better if he had been a _nice_ mule.... B--but he isn't!" + +"Whatever he may be," declared Horace, as he knelt by her chair +endeavouring to comfort her, "nothing can alter my profound respect for +him. And you must let me see him, Sylvia; because I fully believe I +shall be able to cheer him up." + +"If you imagine you can persuade him to--to laugh it off!" said Sylvia, +tearfully. + +"I wasn't proposing to try to make him see the humorous side of his +situation," Horace mildly explained. "I trust I have more tact than +that. But he may be glad to know that, at the worst, it is only a +temporary inconvenience. I'll take care that he's all right again before +very long." + +She started up and looked at him, her eyes widened with dawning dread +and mistrust. + +"If you can speak like that," she said, "it must have been _you_ +who--no, I can't believe it--that would be too horrible!" + +"I who did _what_, Sylvia? Weren't you there when--when it happened?" + +"No," she replied. "I was only told of it afterwards. Mother heard papa +talking loudly in his study this morning, as if he was angry with +somebody, and at last she grew so uneasy she couldn't bear it any +longer, and went in to see what was the matter with him. Dad was quite +alone and looked as usual, only a little excited; and then, without the +slightest warning, just as she entered the room, he--he changed slowly +into a mule before her eyes! Anybody but mamma would have lost her head +and roused the whole house." + +"Thank Heaven she didn't!" said Horace, fervently. "That was what I was +most afraid of." + +"Then--oh, Horace, it _was_ you! It's no use denying it. I feel more +certain of it every moment!" + +"Now, Sylvia!" he protested, still anxious, if possible, to keep the +worst from her, "what could have put such an idea as that into your +head?" + +"I don't know," she said slowly. "Several things last night. No one who +was really nice, and like everybody else, would live in such queer rooms +like those, and dine on cushions, with dreadful black slaves, and--and +dancing-girls and things. You pretended you were quite poor." + +"So I am, darling. And as for my rooms, and--and the rest, they're all +gone, Sylvia. If you went to Vincent Square to-day, you wouldn't find a +trace of them!" + +"That only shows!" said Sylvia. "But why should you play such a cruel, +and--and ungentlemanly trick on poor dad? If you had ever really loved +me----!" + +"But I do, Sylvia, you can't really believe me capable of such an +outrage! Look at me and tell me so." + +"No, Horace," said Sylvia frankly. "I don't believe _you_ did it. But I +believe you know who _did_. And you had better tell me at once!" + +"If you're quite sure you can stand it," he replied, "I'll tell you +everything." And, as briefly as possible, he told her how he had +unsealed the brass bottle, and all that had come of it. + +She bore it, on the whole, better than he had expected; perhaps, being a +woman, it was some consolation to her to remind him that she had +foretold something of this kind from the very first. + +"But, of course, I never really thought it would be so awful as this!" +she said. "Horace, how _could_ you be so careless as to let a great +wicked thing like that escape out of its bottle?" + +"I had a notion it was a manuscript," said Horace--"till he came out. +But he isn't a great wicked thing, Sylvia. He's an amiable old Jinnee +enough. And he'd do anything for me. Nobody could be more grateful and +generous than he has been." + +"Do you call it generous to change the poor, dear dad into a mule?" +inquired Sylvia, with a little curl of her upper lip. + +"That was an oversight," said Horace; "he meant no harm by it. In Arabia +they do these things--or used to in his day. Not that that's much excuse +for him. Still, he's not so young as he was, and besides, being bottled +up for all those centuries must have narrowed him rather. You must try +and make allowances for him, darling." + +"I shan't," said Sylvia, "unless he apologises to poor father, and puts +him right at once." + +"Why, of course, he'll do that," Horace answered confidently. "I'll see +that he does. I don't mean to stand any more of his nonsense. I'm afraid +I've been just a little too slack for fear of hurting his feelings; but +this time he's gone too far, and I shall talk to him like a Dutch uncle. +He's always ready to do the right thing when he's once shown where he +has gone wrong--only he takes such a lot of showing, poor old chap!" + +"But when do you think he'll--do the right thing?" + +"Oh, as soon as I see him again." + +"Yes; but when _will_ you see him again?" + +"That's more than I can say. He's away just now--in China, or Peru, or +somewhere." + +"Horace! Then he won't be back for months and months!" + +"Oh yes, he will. He can do the whole trip, _aller et retour_, you know, +in a few hours. He's an active old beggar for his age. In the meantime, +dearest, the chief thing is to keep up your father's spirits. So I think +I'd better---- I was just telling Sylvia, Mrs. Futvoye," he said, as +that lady re-entered the room, "that I should like to see the Professor +at once." + +"It's quite, _quite_ impossible!" was the nervous reply. "He's in such a +state that he's unable to see any one. You don't know how fractious gout +makes him!" + +"Dear Mrs. Futvoye," said Horace, "believe me, I know more than you +suppose." + +"Yes, mother, dear," put in Sylvia, "he knows everything--_really_ +everything. And perhaps it might do dad good to see him." + +Mrs. Futvoye sank helplessly down on a settee. "Oh, dear me!" she said. +"I don't know _what_ to say. I really don't. If you had seen him plunge +at the mere suggestion of a doctor!" + +Privately, though naturally he could not say so, Horace thought a vet. +might be more appropriate, but eventually he persuaded Mrs. Futvoye to +conduct him to her husband's study. + +"Anthony, love," she said, as she knocked gently at the door, "I've +brought Horace Ventimore to see you for a few moments, if he may." + +It seemed from the sounds of furious snorting and stamping within, that +the Professor resented this intrusion on his privacy. "My dear Anthony," +said his devoted wife, as she unlocked the door and turned the key on +the inside after admitting Horace, "try to be calm. Think of the +servants downstairs. Horace is _so_ anxious to help." + +As for Ventimore, he was speechless--so inexpressibly shocked was he by +the alteration in the Professor's appearance. He had never seen a mule +in sorrier condition or in so vicious a temper. Most of the lighter +furniture had been already reduced to matchwood; the glass doors of the +bookcase were starred or shivered; precious Egyptian pottery and glass +were strewn in fragments on the carpets, and even the mummy, though it +still smiled with the same enigmatic cheerfulness, seemed to have +suffered severely from the Professorial hoofs. + +Horace instinctively felt that any words of conventional sympathy would +jar here; indeed, the Professor's attitude and expression reminded him +irresistibly of a certain "Blondin Donkey" he had seen enacted by +music-hall artists, at the point where it becomes sullen and defiant. +Only, he had laughed helplessly at the Blondin Donkey, and somehow he +felt no inclination to laugh now. + +"Believe me, sir," he began, "I would not disturb you like this +unless--steady there, for Heaven's sake Professor, don't kick till +you've heard me out!" For, the mule, in a clumsy, shambling way which +betrayed the novice, was slowly revolving on his own axis so as to bring +his hind-quarters into action, while still keeping his only serviceable +eye upon his unwelcome visitor. + +"Listen to me, sir," said Horace, manoeuvring in his turn. "I'm not to +blame for this, and if you brain me, as you seem to be endeavouring to +do, you'll simply destroy the only living man who can get you out of +this." + +The mule appeared impressed by this, and backed cumbrously into a +corner, from which he regarded Horace with a mistrustful, but attentive, +eye. "If, as I imagine, sir," continued Horace, "you are, though +temporarily deprived of speech, perfectly capable of following an +argument, will you kindly signify it by raising your right ear?" The +mule's right ear rose with a sharp twitch. + +"Now we can get on," said Horace. "First let me tell you that I +repudiate all responsibility for the proceedings of that infernal +Jinnee.... I wouldn't stamp like that--you might go through the floor, +you know.... Now, if you will only exercise a little patience----" + +At this the exasperated animal made a sudden run at him with his mouth +open, which obliged Horace to shelter himself behind a large leather +arm-chair. "You really _must_ keep cool, sir," he remonstrated; "your +nerves are naturally upset. If I might suggest a little champagne--you +could manage it in--in a bucket, and it would help you to pull yourself +together. A whisk of your--er--tail would imply consent." The +Professor's tail instantly swept some rare Arabian glass lamps and vases +from a shelf at his rear, whereupon Mrs. Futvoye went out, and returned +presently with a bottle of champagne and a large china _jardinière_, as +the best substitute she could find for a bucket. + +When the mule had drained the flower-pot greedily and appeared +refreshed, Horace proceeded: "I have every hope, sir," he said, "that +before many hours you will be smiling--pray don't prance like that, I +mean what I say--smiling over what now seems to you, very justly, a most +annoying and serious catastrophe. I shall speak seriously to Fakrash +(the Jinnee, you know), and I am sure that, as soon as he realises what +a frightful blunder he has made, he will be the first to offer you every +reparation in his power. For, old foozle as he is, he's thoroughly +good-hearted." + +The Professor drooped his ears at this, and shook his head with a +doleful incredulity that made him look more like the Pantomime Donkey +than ever. + +"I think I understand him fairly well by this time, sir," said Horace, +"and I'll answer for it that there's no real harm in him. I give you my +word of honour that, if you'll only remain quiet and leave everything to +me, you shall very soon be released from this absurd position. That's +all I came to tell you, and now I won't trouble you any longer. If you +_could_ bring yourself, as a sign that you bear me no ill-feeling, to +give me your--your off-foreleg at parting, I----" + +But the Professor turned his back in so pointed and ominous a manner +that Horace judged it better to withdraw without insisting further. "I'm +afraid," he said to Mrs. Futvoye, after they had rejoined Sylvia in the +drawing-room--"I'm afraid your husband is still a little sore with me +about this miserable business." + +"I don't know what else you can expect," replied the lady, rather +tartly; "he can't help feeling--as we all must and do, after what you +said just now--that, but for you, this would never have happened!" + +"If you mean it was all through my attending that sale," said Horace, +"you might remember that I only went there at the Professor's request. +You know that, Sylvia." + +"Yes, Horace," said Sylvia; "but papa never asked you to buy a hideous +brass bottle with a nasty Genius in it. And any one with ordinary common +sense would have kept it properly corked!" + +"What, you against me too, Sylvia!" cried Horace, cut to the quick. + +"No, Horace, never against you. I didn't mean to say what I did. Only it +_is_ such a relief to put the blame on somebody. I know, I _know_ you +feel it almost as much as we do. But so long as poor, dear papa remains +as he is, we can never be anything to one another. You must see that, +Horace!" + +"Yes, I see that," he said; "but trust me, Sylvia, he shall _not_ remain +as he is. I swear he shall not. In another day or two, at the outside, +you will see him his own self once more. And then--oh, darling, darling, +you won't let anything or anybody separate us? Promise me that!" + +He would have held her in his arms, but she kept him at a distance. +"When papa is himself again," she said, "I shall know better what to +say. I can't promise anything now, Horace." + +Horace recognised that no appeal would draw a more definite answer from +her just then; so he took his leave, with the feeling that, after all, +matters must improve before very long, and in the meantime he must bear +the suspense with patience. + +He got through dinner as well as he could in his own rooms, for he did +not like to go to his club lest the Jinnee should suddenly return during +his absence. + +"If he wants me he'd be quite equal to coming on to the club after me," +he reflected, "for he has about as much sense of the fitness of things +as Mary's lamb. I shouldn't care about seeing him suddenly bursting +through the floor of the smoking-room. Nor would the committee." + +He sat up late, in the hope that Fakrash would appear; but the Jinnee +made no sign, and Horace began to get uneasy. "I wish there was some +way of ringing him up," he thought. "If he were only the slave of a ring +or a lamp, I'd rub it; but it wouldn't be any use to rub that +bottle--and, besides, he isn't a slave. Probably he has a suspicion that +he has not exactly distinguished himself over his latest feat, and +thinks it prudent to keep out of my way for the present. But if he +fancies he'll make things any better for himself by that he'll find +himself mistaken." + +It was maddening to think of the unhappy Professor still fretting away +hour after hour in the uncongenial form of a mule, waiting impatiently +for the relief that never came. If it lingered much longer, he might +actually starve, unless his family thought of getting in some oats for +him, and he could be prevailed upon to touch them. And how much longer +could they succeed in concealing the nature of his affliction? How long +before all Kensington, and the whole civilised world, would know that +one of the leading Orientalists in Europe was restlessly prancing on +four legs around his study in Cottesmore Gardens? + +Racked by speculations such as these, Ventimore lay awake till well into +the small hours, when he dropped off into troubled dreams that, wild as +they were, could not be more grotesquely fantastic than the realities to +which they were the alternative. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +A CHOICE OF EVILS + + +Not even his morning tub could brace Ventimore's spirits to their usual +cheerfulness. After sending away his breakfast almost untasted he stood +at his window, looking drearily out over the crude green turf of Vincent +Square at the indigo masses of the Abbey and the Victoria Tower and the +huge gasometers to the right which loomed faintly through a dun-coloured +haze. + +He felt a positive loathing for his office, to which he had gone with +such high hopes and enthusiasm of late. There was no work for him to do +there any longer, and the sight of his drawing-table and materials +would, he knew, be intolerable in their mute mockery. + +Nor could he with any decency present himself again at Cottesmore +Gardens while the situation still remained unchanged, as it must do +until he had seen Fakrash. + +When would the Jinnee return, or--horrible suspicion!--did he never +intend to return at all? + +"Fakrash!" he groaned aloud, "you _can't_ really mean to leave me in +such a regular deuce of a hole as this?" + +"At thy service!" said a well-known voice behind him, and he turned to +see the Jinnee standing smiling on the hearthrug--and at this +accomplishment of his dearest desire all his indignation surged back. + +"Oh, _there_ you are!" he said irritably. "Where on earth have you been +all this time?" + +"Nowhere on earth," was the bland reply; "but in the regions of the air, +seeking to promote thy welfare." + +"If you have been as brilliantly successful up there as you have down +here," retorted Horace, "I have much to thank you for." + +"I am more than repaid," answered the Jinnee, who, like many highly +estimable persons, was almost impervious to irony, "by such assurances +of thy gratitude." + +"I'm _not_ grateful," said Horace, fuming. "I'm devilish annoyed!" + +"Well hath it been written," replied the Jinnee:-- + + + "'Be disregardful of thine affairs, and commit them to the course + of Fate, + For often a thing that enrages thee may eventually be to thee + pleasing.'" + + +"I don't see the remotest chance of that, in my case," said Horace. + +"Why is thy countenance thus troubled, and what new complaint hast thou +against me?" + +"What the devil do you mean by turning a distinguished and perfectly +inoffensive scholar into a wall-eyed mule?" Horace broke out. "If that +is your idea of a practical joke----!" + +"It is one of the easiest affairs possible," said the Jinnee, +complacently running his fingers through the thin strands of his beard. +"I have accomplished such transformations on several occasions." + +"Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself, that's all. The question is +now--how do you propose to restore him again?" + +"Far from undoing be that which is accomplished!" was the sententious +answer. + +"What?" cried Horace, hardly believing his ears; "you surely don't mean +to allow that unhappy Professor to remain like that for ever, do you?" + +"None can alter what is predestined." + +"Very likely not. But it wasn't decreed that a learned man should be +suddenly degraded to a beastly mule for the rest of his life. Destiny +wouldn't be such a fool!" + +"Despise not mules, for they are useful and valuable animals in the +household." + +"But, confound it all, have you no imagination? Can't you enter +at all into the feelings of a man--a man of wide learning and +reputation--suddenly plunged into such a humiliating condition?" + +"Upon his own head be it," said Fakrash, coldly. "For he hath brought +this fate upon himself." + +"Well, how do you suppose that you have helped _me_ by this performance? +Will it make him any the more disposed to consent to my marrying his +daughter? Is that all you know of the world?" + +"It is not my intention that thou shouldst take his daughter to wife." + +"Whether you approve or not, it's my intention to marry her." + +"Assuredly she will not marry thee so long as her father remaineth a +mule." + +"There I agree with you. But is that your notion of doing me a good +turn?" + +"I did not consider thy interest in this matter." + +"Then will you be good enough to consider it now? I have pledged my word +that he shall be restored to his original form. Not only my happiness is +at stake, but my honour." + +"By failure to perform the impossible none can lose honour. And this is +a thing that cannot be undone." + +"Cannot be undone?" repeated Horace, feeling a cold clutch at his heart. +"Why?" + +"Because," said the Jinnee, sullenly, "I have forgotten the way." + +"Nonsense!" retorted Horace; "I don't believe it. Why," he urged, +descending to flattery, "you're such a clever old Johnny--I beg your +pardon, I meant such a clever old _Jinnee_--you can do anything, if you +only give your mind to it. Just look at the way you changed this house +back again to what it was. Marvellous!" + +"That was the veriest trifle," said Fakrash, though he was obviously +pleased by this tribute to his talent; "this would be a different affair +altogether." + +"But child's play to _you_!" insinuated Horace. "Come, you know very +well you can do it if you only choose." + +"It may be as thou sayest. But I do not choose." + +"Then I think," said Horace, "that, considering the obligation you admit +yourself you are under to me, I have a right to know the reason--the +_real_ reason--why you refuse." + +"Thy claim is not without justice," answered the Jinnee, after a pause, +"nor can I decline to gratify thee." + +"That's right," cried Horace; "I knew you'd see it in the proper light +when it was once put to you. Now, don't lose any more time, but restore +that unfortunate man at once, as you've promised." + +"Not so," said the Jinnee; "I promised thee a reason for my refusal--and +that thou shalt have. Know then, O my son, that this indiscreet one had, +by some vile and unhallowed arts, divined the hidden meaning of what was +written upon the seal of the bottle wherein I was confined, and was +preparing to reveal the same unto all men." + +"What would it matter to you if he did?" + +"Much--for the writing contained a false and lying record of my +actions." + +"If it is all lies, it can't do you any harm. Why not treat them with +the contempt they deserve?" + +"They are not _all_ lies," the Jinnee admitted reluctantly. + +"Well, never mind. Whatever you've done, you've expiated it by this +time." + +"Now that Suleyman is no more, it is my desire to seek out my kinsmen of +the Green Jinn, and live out my days in amity and honour. How can that +be if they hear my name execrated by all mortals?" + +"Nobody would think of execrating you about an affair three thousand +years old. It's too stale a scandal." + +"Thou speakest without understanding. I tell thee that if men knew but +the half of my misdoings," said Fakrash, in a tone not altogether free +from a kind of sombre complacency, "the noise of them would rise even +unto the uppermost regions, and scorn and loathing would be my portion." + +"Oh, it's not so bad as all that," said Horace, who had a private +impression that the Jinnee's "past" would probably turn out to be +chiefly made up of peccadilloes. "But, anyway, I'm sure the Professor +will readily agree to keep silence about it; and, as you have of course, +got the seal in your own possession again----" + +"Nay; the seal is still in his possession, and it is naught to me where +it is deposited," said Fakrash, "since the only mortal who hath +deciphered it is now a dumb animal." + +"Not at all," said Horace. "There are several friends of his who could +decipher that inscription quite as easily as he did." + +"Is this the truth?" said the Jinnee, in visible alarm. + +"Certainly," said Horace. "Within the last quarter of a century +archæology has made great strides. Our learned men can now read +Babylonian bricks and Chaldean tablets as easily as if they were +advertisements on galvanised iron. You may think you've been extremely +clever in turning the Professor into an animal, but you'll probably find +you've only made another mistake." + +"How so?" inquired Fakrash. + +"Well," said Horace, seeing his advantage, and pushing it +unscrupulously, "now, that, in your infinite wisdom, you have ordained +that he should be a mule, he naturally can't possess property. Therefore +all his effects will have to be sold, and amongst them will be that seal +of yours, which, like many other things in his collection, will probably +be bought up by the British Museum, where it will be examined and +commented upon by every Orientalist in Europe. I suppose you've thought +of all that?" + +"O young man of marvellous sagacity!" said the Jinnee; "truly I had +omitted to consider these things, and thou hast opened my eyes in time. +For I will present myself unto this man-mule and adjure him to reveal +where he hath bestowed this seal, so that I may regain it." + +"He can't do that, you know, so long as he remains a mule." + +"I will endow him with speech for the purpose." + +"Let me tell you this," said Horace: "he's in a very nasty temper just +now, naturally enough, and you won't get anything out of him until you +have restored him to human form. If you do that, he'll agree to +anything." + +"Whether I restore him or not will depend not on me, but on the damsel +who is his daughter, and to whom thou art contracted in marriage. For +first of all I must speak with her." + +"So long as I am present and you promise not to play any tricks," said +Horace, "I've no objection, for I believe, if you once saw her and heard +her plead for her poor father, you wouldn't have the heart to hold out +any longer. But you must give me your word that you'll behave yourself." + +"Thou hast it," said the Jinnee; "I do but desire to see her on thine +account." + +"Very well," agreed Horace; "but I really can't introduce you in that +turban--she'd be terrified. Couldn't you contrive to get yourself up in +commonplace English clothes, just for once--something that wouldn't +attract so much attention?" + +"Will this satisfy thee?" inquired the Jinnee, as his green turban and +flowing robes suddenly resolved themselves into the conventional +chimney-pot hat, frock-coat, and trousers of modern civilisation. + +He bore a painful resemblance in them to the kind of elderly gentleman +who comes on in the harlequinade to be bonneted by the clown; but Horace +was in no mood to be critical just then. + +"That's better," he said encouragingly; "much better. Now," he added, as +he led the way to the hall and put on his own hat and overcoat, "we'll +go out and find a hansom and be at Kensington in less than twenty +minutes." + +"We shall be there in less than twenty seconds," said the Jinnee, +seizing him by the arm above the elbow; and Horace found himself +suddenly carried up into the air and set down, gasping with surprise and +want of breath, on the pavement opposite the Futvoyes' door. + +"I should just like to observe," he said, as soon as he could speak, +"that if we've been seen, we shall probably cause a sensation. Londoners +are not accustomed to seeing people skimming over the chimney-pots like +amateur rooks." + +"Trouble not for that," said Fakrash, "for no mortal eyes are capable of +following our flight." + +"I hope not," said Horace, "or I shall lose any reputation I have left. +I think," he added, "I'd better go in alone first and prepare them, if +you don't mind waiting outside. I'll come to the window and wave my +pocket-handkerchief when they're ready. And _do_ come in by the door +like an ordinary person, and ask the maidservant if you may see me." + +"I will bear it in mind," answered the Jinnee, and suddenly sank, or +seemed to sink, through a chink in the pavement. + +Horace, after ringing at the Futvoyes' door, was admitted and shown into +the drawing-room, where Sylvia presently came to him, looking as lovely +as ever, in spite of the pallor due to sleeplessness and anxiety. "It is +kind of you to call and inquire," she said, with the unnatural calm of +suppressed hysteria. "Dad is much the same this morning. He had a fairly +good night, and was able to take part of a carrot for breakfast--but +I'm afraid he has just remembered that he has to read a paper on +'Oriental Occultism' before the Asiatic Society this evening, and it's +worrying him a little.... Oh, Horace," she broke out, unexpectedly, "how +perfectly awful all this is! How _are_ we to bear it?" + +"Don't give way, darling!" said Horace; "you will not have to bear it +much longer." + +"It's all very well, Horace, but unless something is done _soon_ it will +be too late. We can't go _on_ keeping a mule in the study without the +servants suspecting something, and where are we to put poor, dear papa? +It's too ghastly to think of his having to be sent away to--to a Home of +Rest for Horses--and yet what _is_ to be done with him?... Why do you +come if you can't do anything?" + +"I shouldn't be here unless I could bring you good news. You remember +what I told you about the Jinnee?" + +"Remember!" cried Sylvia. "As if I could forget! Has he really come +back, Horace?" + +"Yes. I think I have brought him to see that he has made a foolish +mistake in enchanting your unfortunate father, and he seems willing to +undo it on certain conditions. He is somewhere within call at this +moment, and will come in whenever I give the signal. But he wishes to +speak to you first." + +"To _me_? Oh, no, Horace!" exclaimed Sylvia, recoiling. "I'd so much +rather not. I don't like things that have come out of brass bottles. I +shouldn't know what to say, and it would frighten me horribly." + +"You must be brave, darling!" said Horace. "Remember that it depends on +you whether the Professor is to be restored or not. And there's nothing +alarming about old Fakrash, either, I've got him to put on ordinary +things, and he really doesn't look so bad in them. He's quite a mild, +amiable old noodle, and he'll do anything for you, if you'll only stroke +him down the right way. You _will_ see him, won't you, for your father's +sake?" + +"If I must," said Sylvia, with a shudder, "I--I'll be as nice to him as +I can." + +Horace went to the window and gave the signal, though there was no one +in sight. However, it was evidently seen, for the next moment there was +a resounding blow at the front door, and a little later Jessie, the +parlour-maid, announced "Mr. Fatrasher Larmash--to see Mr. Ventimore," +and the Jinnee stalked gravely in, with his tall hat on his head. + +"You are probably not aware of it, sir," said Horace, "but it is the +custom here to uncover in the presence of a lady." The Jinnee removed +his hat with both hands, and stood silent and impassive. + +"Let me present you to Miss Sylvia Futvoye," Ventimore continued, "the +lady whose name you have already heard." + +There was a momentary gleam in Fakrash's odd, slanting eyes as they +lighted on Sylvia's shrinking figure, but he made no acknowledgment of +the introduction. + +"The damsel is not without comeliness," he remarked to Horace; "but +there are lovelier far than she." + +"I didn't ask you for either criticisms or comparisons," said Ventimore, +sharply; "there is nobody in the world equal to Miss Futvoye, in my +opinion, and you will be good enough to remember that fact. She is +exceedingly distressed (as any dutiful daughter would be) by the cruel +and senseless trick you have played her father, and she begs that you +will rectify it at once. Don't you, Sylvia?" + +"Yes, indeed!" said Sylvia, almost in a whisper, "if--if it isn't +troubling you too much!" + +"I have been turning over thy words in my mind," said Fakrash to Horace, +still ignoring Sylvia, "and I am convinced that thou art right. Even if +the contents of the seal were known of all men, they would raise no +clamour about affairs that concern them not. Therefore it is nothing to +me in whose hands the seal may be. Dost thou not agree with me in this?" + +"Of course I do," said Horace. "And it naturally follows that----" + +"It naturally follows, as thou sayest," said the Jinnee, with a cunning +assumption of indifference, "that I have naught to gain by demanding +back the seal as the price of restoring this damsel's father to his +original form. Wherefore, so far as I am concerned, let him remain a +mule for ever; unless, indeed, thou art ready to comply with my +conditions." + +"Conditions!" cried Horace, utterly unprepared for this conclusion. +"What can you possibly want from me? But state them. I'll agree to +anything, in reason!" + +"I demand that thou shouldst renounce the hand of this damsel." + +"That's out of all reason," said Horace, "and you know it. I will never +give her up, so long as she is willing to keep me." + +"Maiden," said the Jinnee, addressing Sylvia for the first time, "the +matter rests with thee. Wilt thou release this my son from his contract, +since thou art no fit wife for such as he?" + +"How can I," cried Sylvia, "when I love him and he loves me? What a +wicked tyrannical old thing you must be to expect it! I _can't_ give him +up." + +"It is but giving up what can never be thine," said Fakrash. "And be not +anxious for him, for I will reward and console him a thousandfold for +the loss of thy society. A little while, and he shall remember thee no +more." + +"Don't believe him, darling," said Horace; "you know me better than +that." + +"Remember," said the Jinnee, "that by thy refusal thou wilt condemn thy +parent to remain a mule throughout all his days. Art thou so unnatural +and hard-hearted a daughter as to do this thing?" + +"Oh, I couldn't!" cried Sylvia. "I can't let poor father remain a mule +all his life when one word--and yet what _am_ I to do? Horace, what +shall I say? Advise me.... Advise me!" + +"Heaven help us both!" groaned Ventimore. "If I could only see the +right thing to do. Look here, Mr. Fakrash," he added, "this is a matter +that requires consideration. Will you relieve us of your presence for a +short time, while we talk it over?" + +"With all my heart," said the Jinnee, in the most obliging manner in the +world, and vanished instantly. + +"Now, darling," began Horace, after he had gone, "if that unspeakable +old scoundrel is really in earnest, there's no denying that he's got us +in an extremely tight place. But I can't bring myself to believe that he +_does_ mean it. I fancy he's only trying us. And what I want you to do +is not to consider me in the matter at all." + +"How can I help it?" said poor Sylvia. "Horace, you--you don't _want_ to +be released, do you?" + +"I?" said Horace, "when you are all I have in the world! That's so +likely, Sylvia! But we are bound to look facts in the face. To begin +with, even if this hadn't happened, your people wouldn't let our +engagement continue. For my prospects have changed again, dearest. I'm +even worse off than when we first met, for that confounded Jinnee has +contrived to lose my first and only client for me--the one thing worth +having he ever gave me." And he told her the story of the mushroom +palace and Mr. Wackerbath's withdrawal. "So you see, darling," he +concluded, "I haven't even a home to offer you; and if I had, it would +be miserably uncomfortable for you with that old Marplot continually +dropping in on us--especially if, as I'm afraid he has, he's taken some +unreasonable dislike to you." + +"But surely you can talk him over?" said Sylvia; "you said you could do +anything you liked with him." + +"I'm beginning to find," he replied, ruefully enough, "that he's not so +easily managed as I thought. And for the present, I'm afraid, if we are +to get the Professor out of this, that there's nothing for it but to +humour old Fakrash." + +"Then you actually advise me to--to break it off?" she cried; "I never +thought you would do that!" + +"For your own sake," said Horace; "for your father's sake. If _you_ +won't, Sylvia, I _must_. And you will spare me that? Let us both agree +to part and--and trust that we shall be united some day." + +"Don't try to deceive me or yourself, Horace," she said; "if we part +now, it will be for ever." + +He had a dismal conviction that she was right. "We must hope for the +best," he said drearily; "Fakrash may have some motive in all this we +don't understand. Or he may relent. But part we must, for the present." + +"Very well," she said. "If he restores dad, I will give you up. But not +unless." + +"Hath the damsel decided?" asked the Jinnee, suddenly re-appearing; "for +the period of deliberation is past." + +"Miss Futvoye and I," Horace answered for her, "are willing to consider +our engagement at an end, until you approve of its renewal, on condition +that you restore her father at once." + +"Agreed!" said Fakrash. "Conduct me to him, and we will arrange the +matter without delay." + +Outside they met Mrs. Futvoye on her way from the study. "You here, +Horace?" she exclaimed. "And who is this--gentleman?" + +"This," said Horace, "is the--er--author of the Professor's misfortunes, +and he had come here at my request to undo his work." + +"It _would_ be so kind of him!" exclaimed the distressed lady, who was +by this time far beyond either surprise or resentment. "I'm sure, if he +knew all we have gone through----!" and she led the way to her husband's +room. + +As soon as the door was opened the Professor seemed to recognise his +tormentor in spite of his changed raiment, and was so powerfully +agitated that he actually reeled on his four legs, and "stood over" in +a lamentable fashion. + +"O man of distinguished attainments!" began the Jinnee, "whom I have +caused, for reasons that are known unto thee, to assume the shape of a +mule, speak, I adjure thee, and tell me where thou hast deposited the +inscribed seal which is in thy possession." + +The Professor spoke; and the effect of articulate speech proceeding from +the mouth of what was to all outward seeming an ordinary mule was +strange beyond description. "I'll see you damned first," he said +sullenly. "You can't do worse to me than you've done already!" + +"As thou wilt," said Fakrash; "but unless I regain it, I will not +restore thee to what thou wast." + +"Well, then," said the mule, savagely, "you'll find it in the top +right-hand drawer of my writing-table: the key is in that diorite bowl +on the mantelpiece." + +The Jinnee unlocked the drawer, and took out the metal cap, which he +placed in the breast pocket of his incongruous frock-coat. "So far, +well," he said; "next thou must deliver up to me the transcription thou +hast made, and swear to preserve an inviolable secrecy regarding the +meaning thereof." + +"Do you know what you're asking, sir?" said the mule, laying back his +ears viciously. "Do you think that to oblige you I'm going to suppress +one of the most remarkable discoveries of my whole scientific career? +Never, sir--never!" + +"Since if thou refusest I shall assuredly deprive thee of speech once +more and leave thee a mule, as thou art now, of hideous appearance," +said the Jinnee, "thou art like to gain little by a discovery which thou +wilt be unable to impart. However, the choice rests with thee." + +The mule rolled his one eye, and showed all his teeth in a vicious +snarl. "You've got the whip-hand of me," he said, "and I may as well +give in. There's a transcript inside my blotting-case--it's the only +copy I've made." + +Fakrash found the paper, which he rubbed into invisibility between his +palms, as any ordinary conjurer might do. + +"Now raise thy right forefoot," he said, "and swear by all thou holdest +sacred never to divulge what thou hast learnt"--which oath the +Professor, in the vilest of tempers, took, clumsily enough. + +"Good," said the Jinnee, with a grim smile. "Now let one of thy women +bring me a cup of fair water." + +Sylvia went out, and came back with a cup of water. "It's filtered," she +said anxiously; "I don't know if that will do?" + +"It will suffice," said Fakrash. "Let both the women withdraw." + +"Surely," remonstrated Mrs. Futvoye, "you don't mean to turn his wife +and daughter out of the room at such a moment as this? We shall be +perfectly quiet, and we may even be of some help." + +"Do as you're told, my dear!" snapped the ungrateful mule; "do as you're +told. You'll only be in the way here. Do you suppose he doesn't know his +own beastly business?" + +They left accordingly; whereupon Fakrash took the cup--an ordinary +breakfast cup with a Greek key-border pattern in pale blue round the +top--and, drenching the mule with the contents, exclaimed, "Quit this +form and return to the form in which thou wast!" + +For a dreadful moment or two it seemed as if no effect was to be +produced; the animal simply stood and shivered, and Ventimore began to +feel an agonising suspicion that the Jinnee really had, as he had first +asserted, forgotten how to perform this particular incantation. + +All at once the mule reared, and began to beat the air frantically with +his fore-hoofs; after which he fell heavily backward into the nearest +armchair (which was, fortunately, a solid and capacious piece of +furniture) with his fore-legs hanging limply at his side, in a +semi-human fashion. There was a brief convulsion, and then, by some +gradual process unspeakably impressive to witness, the man seemed to +break through the mule, the mule became merged in the man--and Professor +Futvoye, restored to his own natural form and habit, sat gasping and +trembling in the chair before them. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +"SINCE THERE'S NO HELP, COME, LET US KISS AND PART!" + + +As soon as the Professor seemed to have regained his faculties, Horace +opened the door and called in Sylvia and her mother, who were, as was +only to be expected, overcome with joy on seeing the head of the family +released from his ignoble condition of a singularly ill-favoured +quadruped. + +"There, there," said the Professor, as he submitted to their embraces +and incoherent congratulations, "it's nothing to make a fuss about. I'm +quite myself again, as you can see. And," he added, with an unreasonable +outburst of ill-temper, "if one of you had only had the common sense to +think of such a simple remedy as sprinkling a little cold water over me +when I was first taken like that, I should have been spared a great deal +of unnecessary inconvenience. But that's always the way with women--lose +their heads the moment anything goes wrong! If I had not kept perfectly +cool myself--" + +"It was very, very stupid of us not to think of it, papa," said Sylvia, +tactfully ignoring the fact that there was scarcely an undamaged article +in the room; "still, you know, if _we_ had thrown the water it mightn't +have had the same effect." + +"I'm not in a condition to argue now," said her father; "you didn't +trouble to try it, and there's no more to be said." + +"No more to be said!" exclaimed Fakrash. "O thou monster of ingratitude, +hast thou no thanks for him who hath delivered thee from thy +predicament?" + +"As I am already indebted to you, sir," said the Professor, "for about +twenty-four hours of the most poignant and humiliating mental and bodily +anguish a human being can endure, inflicted for no valid reason that I +can discover, except the wanton indulgence of your unholy powers, I can +only say that any gratitude of which I am conscious is of a very +qualified description. As for you, Ventimore," he added, turning to +Horace, "I don't know--I can only guess at--the part you have played in +this wretched business; but in any case you will understand, once for +all, that all relations between us must cease." + +"Papa," said Sylvia, tremulously, "Horace and I have already agreed +that--that we must separate." + +"At my bidding," explained Fakrash, suavely; "for such an alliance would +be totally unworthy of his merits and condition." + +This frankness was rather too much for the Professor, whose temper had +not been improved by his recent trials. + +"Nobody asked for your opinion, sir!" he snapped. "A person who has only +recently been released from a term of long and, from all I have been +able to ascertain, well-deserved imprisonment, is scarcely entitled to +pose as an authority on social rank. Have the decency not to interfere +again with my domestic affairs." + +"Excellent is the saying," remarked the imperturbable Jinnee, "'Let the +rat that is between the paws of the leopard observe rigidly all the +rules of politeness and refrain from words of provocation.' For to +return thee to the form of a mule once more would be no difficult +undertaking." + +"I think I failed to make myself clear," the Professor hastened to +observe--"failed to make myself clear. I--I merely meant to congratulate +you on your fortunate escape from the consequences of what I--I don't +doubt was an error of justice. I--I am sure that, in the future, you +will employ your--your very remarkable abilities to better purpose, and +I would suggest that the greatest service you can do this unfortunate +young man here is to abstain from any further attempts to promote his +interests." + +"Hear, hear!" Horace could not help throwing in, though in so discreet +an undertone that it was inaudible. + +"Far be this from me," replied Fakrash. "For he has become unto me even +as a favourite son, whom I design to place upon the golden pinnacle of +felicity. Therefore, I have chosen for him a wife, who is unto this +damsel of thine as the full moon to the glow-worm, and as the bird of +Paradise to an unfledged sparrow. And the nuptials shall be celebrated +before many hours." + +"Horace!" cried Sylvia, justly incensed, "why--_why_ didn't you tell me +this before?" + +"Because," said the unhappy Horace, "this is the very first I've heard +of it. He's always springing some fresh surprise on me," he added, in a +whisper--"but they never come to anything much. And he can't marry me +against my will, you know." + +"No," said Sylvia, biting her lip. "I never supposed he could do that, +Horace." + +"I'll settle this at once," he replied. "Now, look here, Mr. Jinnee," he +added, "I don't know what new scheme you have got in your head--but if +you are proposing to marry me to anybody in particular----" + +"Have I not informed thee that I have it in contemplation to obtain for +thee the hand of a King's daughter of marvellous beauty and +accomplishments?" + +"You know perfectly well you never mentioned it before," said Horace, +while Sylvia gave a little low cry. + +"Repine not, O damsel," counselled the Jinnee, "since it is for his +welfare. For, though as yet he believeth it not, when he beholds the +resplendent beauty of her countenance he will swoon away with delight +and forget thy very existence." + +"I shall do nothing of the sort," said Horace, savagely. "Just +understand that I don't intend to marry any Princess. You may prevent +me--in fact, you _have_--from marrying this lady, but you can't force me +to marry anybody else. I defy you!" + +"When thou hast seen thy bride's perfections thou wilt need no +compulsion," said Fakrash. "And if thou shouldst refuse, know this: that +thou wilt be exposing those who are dear to thee in this household to +calamities of the most unfortunate description." + +The awful vagueness of this threat completely crushed Horace; he could +not think, he did not even dare to imagine, what consequences he might +bring upon his beloved Sylvia and her helpless parents by persisting in +his refusal. + +"Give me time," he said heavily; "I want to talk this over with you." + +"Pardon me, Ventimore," said the Professor, with acidulous politeness; +"but, interesting as the discussion of your matrimonial arrangements is +to you and your--a--protector, I should greatly prefer that you choose +some more fitting place for arriving at a decision which is in the +circumstances a foregone conclusion. I am rather tired and upset, and I +should be obliged if you and this gentleman could bring this most trying +interview to a close as soon as you conveniently can." + +"You hear, Mr. Fakrash?" said Horace, between his teeth, "it is quite +time we left. If you go at once, I will follow you very shortly." + +"Thou wilt find me awaiting thee," answered the Jinnee, and, to Mrs. +Futvoye's and Sylvia's alarm, disappeared through one of the bookcases. + +"Well," said Horace, gloomily, "you see how I'm situated? That obstinate +old devil has cornered me. I'm done for!" + +"Don't say that," said the Professor; "you appear to be on the eve of a +most brilliant alliance, in which I am sure you have our best +wishes--the best wishes of us all," he added pointedly. + +"Sylvia," said Horace, still lingering, "before I go, tell me that, +whatever I may have to do, you will understand that--that it will be for +your sake!" + +"Please don't talk like that," she said. "We may never see one another +again. Don't let my last recollection of you be of--of a hypocrite, +Horace!" + +"A hypocrite!" he cried. "Sylvia, this is too much! What have I said or +done to make you think me that?" + +"Oh, I am not so simple as you suppose, Horace," she replied. "I see now +why all this has happened: why poor dad was tormented; why you insisted +on my setting you free. But I would have released you without _that_! +Indeed, all this elaborate artifice wasn't in the least necessary!" + +"You believe I was an accomplice in that old fool's plot?" he said. "You +believe me such a cur as that?" + +"I don't blame you," she said. "I don't believe you could help yourself. +He can make you do whatever he chooses. And then, you are so rich now, +it is natural that you should want to marry some one--some one more +suited to you--like this lovely Princess of yours." + +"Of mine!" groaned the exasperated Horace. "When I tell you I've never +even seen her! As if any Princess in the world would marry me to please +a Jinnee out of a brass bottle! And if she did, Sylvia, you can't +believe that any Princess would make me forget you!" + +"It depends so very much on the Princess," was all Sylvia could be +induced to say. + +"Well," said Horace, "if that's all the faith you have in me, I suppose +it's useless to say any more. Good-bye, Mrs. Futvoye; good-bye, +Professor. I wish I could tell you how deeply I regret all the trouble I +have brought on you by my own folly. All I can say is, that I will bear +anything in future rather than expose you or any of you to the smallest +risk." + +"I trust, indeed," said the Professor, stiffly, "that you will use all +the influence at your command to secure me from any repetition of an +experience that might well have unmanned a less equable temperament than +my own." + +"Good-bye, Horace," said Mrs. Futvoye, more kindly. "I believe you are +more to be pitied than blamed, whatever others may think. And _I_ don't +forget--if Anthony does--that, but for you, he might, instead of sitting +there comfortably in his armchair, be lashing out with his hind legs and +kicking everything to pieces at this very moment!" + +"I deny that I lashed out!" said the Professor. "My--a--hind quarters +may have been under imperfect control--but I never lost my reasoning +powers or my good humour for a single instant. I can say that +truthfully." + +If the Professor could say that truthfully amidst the general wreck in +which he sat, like another Marius, he had little to learn in the gentle +art of self-deception; but there was nothing to gain by contradicting +him then. + +"Good-bye, Sylvia," said Horace, and held out his hand. + +"Good-bye," she said, without offering to take it or look at him--and, +after a miserable pause, he left the study. But before he had reached +the front door he heard a swish and swirl of drapery behind him, and +felt her light hand on his arm. "Ah, no!" she said, clinging to him, "I +can't let you go like this. I didn't mean all the things I said just +now. I _do_ believe in you, Horace--at least, I'll try hard to.... And I +shall always, _always_ love you, Horace.... I shan't care--very +much--even if you do forget me, so long as you are happy.... Only don't +be _too_ happy. Think of me sometimes!" + +"I shall _not_ be too happy," he said, as he held her close to his heart +and kissed her pathetically drawn mouth and flushed cheeks. "And I shall +think of you always." + +"And you won't fall in love with your Princess?" entreated Sylvia, at +the end of her altruism. "Promise!" + +"If I am ever provided with one," he replied, "I shall loathe her--for +not being you. But don't let us lose heart, darling. There must be some +way of talking that old idiot out of this nonsense and bringing him +round to common sense. I'm not going to give in just yet!" + +These were brave words--but, as they both felt, the situation had little +enough to warrant them, and, after one last long embrace, they parted, +and he was no sooner on the steps than he felt himself caught up as +before and borne through the air with breathless speed, till he was set +down, he could not have well said how, in a chair in his own +sitting-room at Vincent Square. + +"Well," he said, looking at the Jinnee, who was standing opposite with a +smile of intolerable complacency, "I suppose you feel satisfied with +yourself over this business?" + +"It hath indeed been brought to a favourable conclusion," said Fakrash. +"Well hath the poet written----" + +"I don't think I can stand any more 'Elegant Extracts' this afternoon," +interrupted Horace. "Let us come to business. You seem," he went on, +with a strong effort to keep himself in hand, "to have formed some plan +for marrying me to a King's daughter. May I ask you for full +particulars?" + +"No honour and advancement can be in excess of thy deserts," answered +the Jinnee. + +"Very kind of you to say so--but you are probably unaware that, as +society is constituted at the present time, the objections to such an +alliance would be quite insuperable." + +"For me," said the Jinnee, "few obstacles are insuperable. But speak thy +mind freely." + +"I will," said Horace. "To begin with, no European Princess of the Blood +Royal would entertain the idea for a moment. And if she did, she would +forfeit her rank and cease to be a Princess, and I should probably be +imprisoned in a fortress for _lèse majesté_ or something." + +"Dismiss thy fears, for I do not propose to unite thee to any Princess +that is born of mortals. The bride I intend for thee is a Jinneeyeh; the +peerless Bedeea-el-Jemal, daughter of my kinsman Shahyal, the Ruler of +the Blue Jann." + +"Oh, is she, though?" said Horace, blankly. "I'm exceedingly obliged, +but, whatever may be the lady's attractions----" + +"Her nose," recited the Jinnee, with enthusiasm, "is like unto the keen +edge of a polished sword; her hair resembleth jewels, and her cheeks are +ruddy as wine. She hath heavy lips, and when she looketh aside she +putteth to shame the wild cows...." + +"My good, excellent friend," said Horace, by no means impressed by this +catalogue of charms, "one doesn't marry to mortify wild cows." + +"When she walketh with a vacillating gait," continued Fakrash, as though +he had not been interrupted, "the willow branch itself turneth green +with envy." + +"Personally," said Horace, "a waddle doesn't strike me as particularly +fascinating--it's quite a matter of taste. Do you happen to have seen +this enchantress lately?" + +"My eyes have not been refreshed by her manifold beauties since I was +enclosed by Suleyman--whose name be accursed--in the brass bottle of +which thou knowest. Why dost thou ask?" + +"Merely because it occurred to me that, after very nearly three thousand +years, your charming kinswoman may--well, to put it as mildly as +possible, not have altogether escaped the usual effects of Time. I mean, +she must be getting on, you know!" + +"O, silly-bearded one!" said the Jinnee, in half-scornful rebuke; "art +thou, then, ignorant that we of the Jinn are not as mortals, that we +should feel the ravages of age?" + +"Forgive me if I'm personal," said Horace; "but surely your own hair +and beard might be described as rather inclining to grey." + +"Not from age," said Fakrash, "This cometh from long confinement." + +"I see," said Horace. "Like the Prisoner of Chillon. Well, assuming that +the lady in question is still in the bloom of early youth, I see one +fatal difficulty to becoming her suitor." + +"Doubtless," said the Jinnee, "thou art referring to Jarjarees, the son +of Rejmoos, the son of Iblees?" + +"No, I wasn't," said Horace; "because, you see, I don't remember having +ever heard of him. However, he's _another_ fatal difficulty. That makes +two of them." + +"Surely I have spoken of him to thee as my deadliest foe? It is true +that he is a powerful and vindictive Efreet, who hath long persecuted +the beauteous Bedeea with hateful attentions. Yet it may be possible, by +good fortune, to overthrow him." + +"Then I gather that any suitor for Bedeea's hand would be looked upon as +a rival by the amiable Jarjarees?" + +"Far is he from being of an amiable disposition," answered the Jinnee, +simply, "and he would be so transported by rage and jealousy that he +would certainly challenge thee to mortal combat." + +"Then that settles it," said Horace. "I don't think any one can fairly +call me a coward, but I do draw the line at fighting an Efreet for the +hand of a lady I've never seen. How do I know he'll fight fair?" + +"He would probably appear unto thee first in the form of a lion, and if +he could not thus prevail against thee, transform himself into a +serpent, and then into a buffalo or some other wild beast." + +"And I should have to tackle the entire menagerie?" said Horace. "Why, +my dear sir, I should never get beyond the lion!" + +"I would assist thee to assume similar transformations," said the +Jinnee, "and thus thou mayst be enabled to defeat him. For I burn with +desire to behold mine enemy reduced to cinders." + +"It's much more likely that you would have to sweep _me_ up!" said +Horace, who had a strong conviction that anything in which the Jinnee +was concerned would be bungled somehow. "And if you're so anxious to +destroy this Jarjarees, why don't you challenge him to meet you in some +quiet place in the desert and settle him yourself? It's much more in +your line than it is in mine!" + +He was not without hopes that Fakrash might act on this suggestion, and +that so he would be relieved of him in the simplest and most +satisfactory way; but any such hopes were as usual doomed to +disappointment. + +"It would be of no avail," said the Jinnee, "for it hath been written of +old that Jarjarees shall not perish save by the hand of a mortal. And I +am persuaded that thou wilt turn out to be that mortal, since thou art +both strong and fearless, and, moreover, it is also predestined that +Bedeea shall wed one of the sons of men." + +"Then," said Horace, feeling that this line of defence must be +abandoned, "I fall back on objection number one. Even if Jarjarees were +obliging enough to retire in my favour, I should still decline to become +the--a--consort of a Jinneeyeh whom I've never seen, and don't love." + +"Thou hast heard of her incomparable charms, and verily the ear may love +before the eye." + +"It may," admitted Horace, "but neither of _my_ ears is the least in +love at present." + +"These reasons are of no value," said Fakrash, "and if thou hast none +better----" + +"Well," said Ventimore, "I think I have. You profess to be anxious +to--to requite the trifling service I rendered you, though hitherto, +you'll admit yourself, you haven't made a very brilliant success of it. +But, putting the past aside," he continued, with a sudden dryness in his +throat; "putting the past aside, I ask you to consider what possible +benefit or happiness such a match as this--I'm afraid I'm not so +fortunate as to secure your attention?" he broke off, as he observed the +Jinnee's eyes beginning to film over in the disagreeable manner +characteristic of certain birds. + +"Proceed," said Fakrash, unskinning his eyes for a second; "I am +hearkening unto thee." + +"It seems to me," stammered Horace, inconsequently enough, "that all +that time inside a bottle--well, you can't call it _experience_ exactly; +and possibly in the interval you've forgotten all you knew about +feminine nature. I think you _must_ have." + +"It is not possible that such knowledge should be forgotten," said the +Jinnee, resenting this imputation in quite a human way. "Thy words +appear to me to lack sense. Interpret them, I pray thee." + +"Why," explained Horace, "you don't mean to tell me that this young and +lovely relation of yours, a kind of immortal, and--and with the devil's +own pride, would be gratified by your proposal to bestow her hand upon +an insignificant and unsuccessful London architect? She'd turn up that +sharp and polished nose of hers at the mere idea of so unequal a match!" + +"An excellent rank is that conferred by wealth," remarked the Jinnee. + +"But I'm _not_ rich, and I've already declined any riches from you," +said Horace. "And, what's more to the point, I'm perfectly and +hopelessly obscure. If you had the slightest sense of humour--which I +fear you have not--you would at once perceive the absurdity of proposing +to unite a radiant, ethereal, superhuman being to a commonplace +professional nonentity in a morning coat and a tall hat. It's really too +ridiculous!" + +"What thou hast just said is not altogether without wisdom," said +Fakrash, to whom this was evidently a new point of view. "Art thou, +indeed, so utterly unknown?" + +"Unknown?" repeated Horace; "I should rather think I was! I'm simply an +inconsiderable unit in the population of the vastest city in the world; +or, rather, not a unit--a cipher. And, don't you see, a man to be worthy +of your exalted kinswoman ought to be a celebrity. There are plenty of +them about." + +"What meanest thou by a celebrity?" inquired Fakrash, falling into the +trap more readily than Horace had ventured to hope. + +"Oh, well, a distinguished person, whose name is on everybody's lips, +who is honoured and praised by all his fellow-citizens. Now, _that_ kind +of man no Jinneeyeh could look down upon." + +"I perceive," said Fakrash, thoughtfully. "Yes, I was in danger of +committing a rash action. How do men honour such distinguished +individuals in these days?" + +"They generally overfeed them," said Horace. "In London the highest +honour a hero can be paid is to receive the freedom of the City, which +is only conferred in very exceptional cases, and for some notable +service. But, of course, there are other sorts of celebrities, as you +could see if you glanced through the society papers." + +"I cannot believe that thou, who seemest a gracious and talented young +man, can be indeed so obscure as thou hast represented." + +"My good sir, any of the flowers that blush unseen in the desert air, or +the gems concealed in ocean caves, so excellently described by one of +our poets, could give me points and a beating in the matter of +notoriety. I'll make you a sporting offer. There are over five million +inhabitants in this London of ours. If you go out into the streets and +ask the first five hundred you meet whether they know me, I don't mind +betting you--what shall I say? a new hat--that you won't find half a +dozen who've ever even heard of my existence. Why not go out and see for +yourself?" + +To his surprise and gratification the Jinnee took this seriously. "I +will go forth and make inquiry," he said, "for I desire further +enlightenment concerning thy statements. But, remember," he added: +"should I still require thee to wed the matchless Bedeea-el-Jemal, and +thou shouldst disobey me, thou wilt bring disaster, not on thine own +head, but on those thou art most desirous of protecting." + +"Yes, so you told me before," said Horace, brusquely. "Good evening." +But Fakrash was already gone. In spite of all he had gone through and +the unknown difficulties before him, Ventimore was seized with what +Uncle Remus calls "a spell of the dry grins" at the thought of the +probable replies that the Jinnee would meet with in the course of his +inquiries. "I'm afraid he won't be particularly impressed by the +politeness of a London crowd," he thought; "but at least they'll +convince him that I am not exactly a prominent citizen. Then he'll give +up this idiotic match of his--I don't know, though. He's such a +pig-headed old fool that he may stick to it all the same. I may find +myself encumbered with a Jinneeyeh bride several centuries my senior +before I know where I am. No, I forget; there's the jealous Jarjarees to +be polished off first. I seem to remember something about a quick-change +combat with an Efreet in the "Arabian Nights." I may as well look it up, +and see what may be in store for me." + +And after dinner he went to his shelves and took down Lane's +three-volume edition of "The Arabian Nights," which he set himself to +study with a new interest. It was long since he had looked into these +wondrous tales, old beyond all human calculation, and fresher, even now, +than the most modern of successful romances. After all, he was tempted +to think, they might possess quite as much historical value as many +works with graver pretentions to accuracy. + +He found a full account of the combat with the Efreet in "The Story of +the Second Royal Mendicant" in the first volume, and was unpleasantly +surprised to discover that the Efreet's name was actually given as +"Jarjarees, the son of Rejmoos, the son of Iblees"--evidently the same +person to whom Fakrash had referred as his bitterest foe. He was +described as "of hideous aspect," and had, it seemed, not only carried +off the daughter of the Lord of the Ebony Island on her wedding night, +but, on discovering her in the society of the Royal Mendicant, had +revenged himself by striking off her hands, her feet, and her head, and +transforming his human rival into an ape. "Between this fellow and old +Fakrash," he reflected ruefully, at this point, "I seem likely to have a +fairly lively time of it!" + +He read on till he reached the memorable encounter between the King's +daughter and Jarjarees, who presented himself "in a most hideous shape, +with hands like winnowing forks, and legs like masts, and eyes like +burning torches"--which was calculated to unnerve the stoutest novice. +The Efreet began by transforming himself from a lion to a scorpion, upon +which the Princess became a serpent; then he changed to an eagle, and +she to a vulture; he to a black cat, and she to a cock; he to a fish, +and she to a larger fish still. + +"If Fakrash can shove me through all that without a fatal hitch +somewhere," Ventimore told himself, "I shall be agreeably disappointed +in him," But, after reading a few more lines, he cheered up. For the +Efreet finished as a flame, and the Princess as a "body of fire." "And +when we looked towards him," continued the narrator, "we perceived that +he had become a heap of ashes." + +"Come," said Horace to himself, "that puts Jarjarees out of action, any +way! The odd thing is that Fakrash should never have heard of it." + +But, as he saw on reflection, it was not so very odd, after all, as the +incident had probably happened after the Jinnee had been consigned to +his brass bottle, where intelligence of any kind would be most unlikely +to reach him. + +He worked steadily through the whole of the second volume and part of +the third; but, although he picked up a certain amount of information +upon Oriental habits and modes of thought and speech which might come in +useful later, it was not until he arrived at the 24th Chapter of the +third volume that his interest really revived. + +For the 24th Chapter contained "The Story of Seyf-el-Mulook and +Bedeea-el-Jemal," and it was only natural that he should be anxious to +know all that there was to know concerning the antecedents of one who +might be his _fiancée_ before long. He read eagerly. + +Bedeea, it appeared, was the lovely daughter of Shahyal, one of the +Kings of the Believing Jann; her father--not Fakrash himself, as the +Jinnee had incorrectly represented--had offered her in marriage to no +less a personage than King Solomon himself, who, however, had preferred +the Queen of Sheba. Seyf, the son of the King of Egypt, afterwards fell +desperately in love with Bedeea, but she and her grandmother both +declared that between mankind and the Jann there could be no agreement. + +"And Seyf was a King's son!" commented Horace. "I needn't alarm myself. +She wouldn't be likely to have anything to say to _me_. It's just as I +told Fakrash." + +His heart grew lighter still as he came to the end, for he learnt that, +after many adventures which need not be mentioned here, the devoted Seyf +did actually succeed in gaining the proud Bedeea as his wife. "Even +Fakrash could not propose to marry me to some one who has a husband +already," he thought. "Still, she _may_ be a widow!" + +To his relief, however, the conclusion ran thus; "Seyf-el-Mulook lived +with Bedeea-el-Jemal a most pleasant and agreeable life ... until they +were visited by the terminator of delights and the separator of +companions." + +"If that means anything at all," he reasoned, "it means that Seyf and +Bedeea are both deceased. Even Jinneeyeh seem to be mortal. Or perhaps +she became so by marrying a mortal; I dare say that Fakrash himself +wouldn't have lasted all this time if he hadn't been bottled, like a +tinned tomato. But I'm glad I found this out, because Fakrash is +evidently unaware of it, and, if he _should_ persist in any more of this +nonsense, I think I see my way now to getting the better of him." + +So, with renewed hope and in vastly improved spirits, he went to bed and +was soon sound asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +BLUSHING HONOURS + + +It was rather late the next morning when Ventimore opened his eyes, to +discover the Jinnee standing by the foot of his bed. "Oh, it's _you_, is +it?" he said sleepily. "How did you--a--get on last night?" + +"I gained such information as I desired," said Fakrash, guardedly; "and +now, for the last time, I am come to ask thee whether thou wilt still +persist in refusing to wed the illustrious Bedeea-el-Jemal? And have a +care how thou answerest." + +"So you haven't given up the idea?" said Horace. "Well, since you make +such a point of it, I'll meet you as far as this. If you produce the +lady, and she consents to marry me, I won't decline the honour. But +there's one condition I really _must_ insist on." + +"It is not for thee to make stipulations. Still, yet this once I will +hear thee." + +"I'm sure you'll see that it's only fair. Supposing, for any reason, you +can't persuade the Princess to meet me within a reasonable time--shall +we say a week?----" + +"Thou shalt be admitted to her presence within twenty-four hours," said +the Jinnee. + +"That's better still. Then, if I don't see her within twenty-four hours, +I am to be at liberty to infer that the negotiations are off, and I may +marry anybody else I please, without any opposition from you? Is that +understood?" + +"It is agreed," said Fakrash, "for I am confident that Bedeea will +accept thee joyfully." + +"We shall see," said Horace. "But it might be as well if you went and +prepared her a little. I suppose you know where to find her--and you've +only twenty-four hours, you know." + +"More than is needed," answered the Jinnee, with such childlike +confidence, that Horace felt almost ashamed of so easy a victory. "But +the sun is already high. Arise, my son, put on these robes"--and with +this he flung on the bed the magnificent raiment which Ventimore had +last worn on the night of his disastrous entertainment--"and when thou +hast broken thy fast, prepare to accompany me." + +"Before I agree to that," said Horace, sitting up in bed, "I should like +to know where you're taking me to." + +"Obey me without demur," said Fakrash, "or thou knowest the +consequences." + +It seemed to Horace that it was as well to humour him, and he got up +accordingly, washed and shaved, and, putting on his dazzling robe of +cloth-of-gold thickly sewn with gems, he joined Fakrash--who, by the +way, was similarly, if less gorgeously, arrayed--in the sitting-room, in +a state of some mystification. + +"Eat quickly," commanded the Jinnee, "for the time is short." And +Horace, after hastily disposing of a cold poached egg and a cup of +coffee, happened to go to the windows. + +"Good Heavens!" he cried. "What does all this mean?" + +He might well ask. On the opposite side of the road, by the railings of +the square, a large crowd had collected, all staring at the house in +eager expectation. As they caught sight of him they raised a cheer, +which caused him to retreat in confusion, but not before he had seen a +great golden chariot with six magnificent coal-black horses, and a suite +of swarthy attendants in barbaric liveries, standing by the pavement +below. "Whose carriage is that?" he asked. + +"It belongs to thee," said the Jinnee; "descend then, and make thy +progress in it through the City." + +"I will not," said Horace. "Even to oblige you I simply can't drive +along the streets in a thing like the band-chariot of a travelling +circus." + +"It is necessary," declared Fakrash. "Must I again recall to thee the +penalty of disobedience?" + +"Oh, very well," said Horace, irritably. "If you insist on my making a +fool of myself, I suppose I must. But where am I to drive, and why?" + +"That," replied Fakrash, "thou shalt discover at the fitting moment." +And so, amidst the shouts of the spectators, Ventimore climbed up into +the strange-looking vehicle, while the Jinnee took his seat by his side. +Horace had a parting glimpse of Mr. and Mrs. Rapkin's respective noses +flattened against the basement window, and then two dusky slaves mounted +to a seat at the back of the chariot, and the horses started off at a +stately trot in the direction of Rochester Row. + +"I think you might tell me what all this means," he said. "You've no +conception what an ass I feel, stuck up here like this!" + +"Dismiss bashfulness from thee, since all this is designed to render +thee more acceptable in the eyes of the Princess Bedeea," said the +Jinnee. + +Horace said no more, though he could not but think that this parade +would be thrown away. + +But as they turned into Victoria Street and seemed to be heading +straight for the Abbey, a horrible thought occurred to him. After all, +his only authority for the marriage and decease of Bedeea was the +"Arabian Nights," which was not unimpeachable evidence. What if she were +alive and waiting for the arrival of the bridegroom? No one but Fakrash +would have conceived such an idea as marrying him to a Jinneeyeh in +Westminster Abbey; but he was capable of any extravagance, and there +were apparently no limits to his power. + +"Mr. Fakrash," he said hoarsely, "surely this isn't my--my wedding day? +You're not going to have the ceremony _there_?" + +"Nay," said the Jinnee, "be not impatient. For this edifice would be +totally unfitted for the celebration of such nuptials as thine." + +As he spoke, the chariot left the Abbey on the right and turned down the +Embankment. The relief was so intense that Horace's spirits rose +irrepressibly. It was absurd to suppose that even Fakrash could have +arranged the ceremony in so short a time. He was merely being taken for +a drive, and fortunately his best friends could not recognise him in his +Oriental disguise. And it was a glorious morning, with a touch of frost +in the air and a sky of streaky turquoise and pale golden clouds; the +broad river glittered in the sunshine; the pavements were lined with +admiring crowds, and the carriage rolled on amidst frantic enthusiasm, +like some triumphal car. + +"How they're cheering us!" said Horace. "Why, they couldn't make more +row for the Lord Mayor himself." + +"What is this Lord Mayor of whom thou speakest?" inquired Fakrash. + +"The Lord Mayor?" said Horace. "Oh, he's unique. There's nobody in the +world quite like him. He administers the law, and if there's any +distress in any part of the earth he relieves it. He entertains monarchs +and Princes and all kinds of potentates at his banquets, and altogether +he's a tremendous swell." + +"Hath he dominion over the earth and the air and all that is therein?" + +"Within his own precincts, I believe he has," said Horace, rather +lazily, "but I really don't know precisely how wide his powers are." He +was vainly trying to recollect whether such matters as sky-signs, +telephones, and telegraphs in the City were within the Lord Mayor's +jurisdiction or the County Council's. + +Fakrash remained silent just as they were driving underneath Charing +Cross Railway Bridge, when he started perceptibly at the thunder of the +trains overhead and the piercing whistles of the engines. "Tell me," he +said, clutching Horace by the arm, "what meaneth this?" + +"You don't mean to say," said Horace, "that you have been about London +all these days, and never noticed things like these before?" + +"Till now," said the Jinnee, "I have had no leisure to observe them and +discover their nature." + +"Well," said Horace, anxious to let the Jinnee see that he had not the +monopoly of miracles, "since your days we have discovered how to tame or +chain the great forces of Nature and compel them to do our will. We +control the Spirits of Earth, Air, Fire, and Water, and make them give +us light and heat, carry our messages, fight our quarrels for us, +transport us wherever we wish to go, with a certainty and precision that +throw even your performances, my dear sir, entirely into the shade." + +Considering what a very large majority of civilised persons would be as +powerless to construct the most elementary machine as to create the +humblest kind of horse, it is not a little odd how complacently we +credit ourselves with all the latest achievements of our generation. +Most of us accept the amazement of the simple-minded barbarian on his +first introduction to modern inventions as a gratifying personal +tribute: we feel a certain superiority, even if we magnanimously refrain +from boastfulness. And yet our own particular share in these discoveries +is limited to making use of them under expert guidance, which any +barbarian, after overcoming his first terror, is quite as competent to +do as we are. + +It is a harmless vanity enough, and especially pardonable in Ventimore's +case, when it was so desirable to correct any tendency to "uppishness" +on the part of the Jinnee. + +"And doth the Lord Mayor dispose of these forces at his will?" inquired +Fakrash, on whom Ventimore's explanation had evidently produced some +impression. + +"Certainly," said Horace; "whenever he has occasion." + +The Jinnee seemed engrossed in his own thoughts, for he said no more +just then. + +They were now nearing St. Paul's Cathedral, and Horace's first suspicion +returned with double force. + +"Mr. Fakrash, answer me," he said. "Is this my wedding day or not? If it +is, it's time I was told!" + +"Not yet," said the Jinnee, enigmatically, and indeed it proved to be +another false alarm, for they turned down Cannon Street and towards the +Mansion House. + +"Perhaps you can tell me why we're going through Victoria Street, and +what all this crowd has come out for?" asked Ventimore. For the throng +was denser than ever; the people surged and swayed in serried ranks +behind the City police, and gazed with a wonder and awe that for once +seemed to have entirely silenced the Cockney instinct of _persiflage_. + +"For what else but to do thee honour?" answered Fakrash. + +"What bosh!" said Horace. "They mistake me for the Shah or somebody--and +no wonder, in this get-up." + +"Not so," said the Jinnee. "Thy names are familiar to them." + +Horace glanced up at the hastily improvised decorations; on one large +strip of bunting which spanned the street he read: "Welcome to the +City's most distinguished guest!" "They can't mean me," he thought; and +then another legend caught his eye: "Well done, Ventimore!" And an +enthusiastic householder next door had burst into poetry and displayed +the couplet-- + + + "Would we had twenty more + Like Horace Ventimore!" + + +"They _do_ mean me!" he exclaimed. "Now, Mr. Fakrash, _will_ you kindly +explain what tomfoolery you've been up to now? I know you're at the +bottom of this business." + +It struck him that the Jinnee was slightly embarrassed. "Didst thou not +say," he replied, "that he who should receive the freedom of the City +from his fellow-men would be worthy of Bedeea-el-Jemal?" + +"I may have said something of the sort. But, good heavens! you don't +mean that you have contrived that _I_ should receive the freedom of the +City?" + +"It was the easiest affair possible," said the Jinnee, but he did not +attempt to meet Horace's eye. + +"Was it, though?" said Horace, in a white rage. "I don't want to be +inquisitive, but I should like to know what I've done to deserve it?" + +"Why trouble thyself with the reason? Let it suffice thee that such +honour is bestowed upon thee." + +By this time the chariot had crossed Cheapside and was entering King +Street. + +"This really won't do!" urged Horace. "It's not fair to me. Either I've +done something, or you must have made the Corporation _believe_ I've +done something, to be received like this. And, as we shall be in the +Guildhall in a very few seconds, you may as well tell me what it is!" + +"Regarding that matter," replied the Jinnee, in some confusion, "I am +truly as ignorant as thyself." + +As he spoke they drove through some temporary wooden gates into the +courtyard, where the Honourable Artillery Company presented arms to +them, and the carriage drew up before a large marquee decorated with +shields and clustered banners. + +"Well, Mr. Fakrash," said Horace, with suppressed fury, as he alighted, +"you have surpassed yourself this time. You've got me into a nice +scrape, and you'll have to pull me through it as well as you can." + +"Have no uneasiness," said the Jinnee, as he accompanied his _protégé_ +into the marquee, which was brilliant with pretty women in smart frocks, +officers in scarlet tunics and plumed hats, and servants in State +liveries. + +Their entrance was greeted by a politely-subdued buzz of applause and +admiration, and an official, who introduced himself as the Prime Warden +of the Candlestick-makers' Company, advanced to meet them. "The Lord +Mayor will receive you in the library," he said. "If you will have the +kindness to follow me----" + +Horace followed him mechanically. "I'm in for it now," he thought, +"whatever it is. If I can only trust Fakrash to back me up--but I'm +hanged if I don't believe he's more nervous than I am!" + +As they came into the noble Library of the Guildhall a fine string band +struck up, and Horace, with the Jinnee in his rear, made his way through +a lane of distinguished spectators towards a dais, on the steps of +which, in his gold-trimmed robes and black-feather hat, stood the Lord +Mayor, with his sword and mace-bearers on either hand, and behind him a +row of beaming sheriffs. + +A truly stately and imposing figure did the Chief Magistrate for that +particular year present: tall, dignified, with a lofty forehead whose +polished temples reflected the light, an aquiline nose, and piercing +black eyes under heavy white eyebrows, a frosty pink in his wrinkled +cheeks, and a flowing silver beard with a touch of gold still lingering +under the lower lip: he seemed, as he stood there, a worthy +representative of the greatest and richest city in the world. + +Horace approached the steps with an unpleasant sensation of weakness at +the knees, and no sort of idea what he was expected to do or say when he +arrived. + +And, in his perplexity, he turned for support and guidance to his +self-constituted mentor--only to discover that the Jinnee, whose +short-sightedness and ignorance had planted him in this present false +position, had mysteriously and perfidiously disappeared, and left him to +grapple with the situation single-handed. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A KILLING FROST + + +Fortunately for Ventimore, the momentary dismay he had felt on +finding himself deserted by his unfathomable Jinnee at the very +outset of the ceremony passed unnoticed, as the Prime Warden of the +Candlestick-makers' Company immediately came to his rescue by briefly +introducing him to the Lord Mayor, who, with dignified courtesy, had +descended to the lowest step of the dais to receive him. + +"Mr. Ventimore," said the Chief Magistrate, cordially, as he pressed +Horace's hand, "you must allow me to say that I consider this one of the +greatest privileges--if not _the_ greatest privilege--that have fallen +to my lot during a term of office in which I have had the honour of +welcoming more than the usual number of illustrious visitors." + +"My Lord Mayor," said Horace, with absolute sincerity, "you really +overwhelm me. I--I only wish I could feel that I had done anything to +deserve this--this magnificent compliment!" + +"Ah!" replied the Lord Mayor, in a paternally rallying tone. "Modest, my +dear sir, I perceive. Like all truly great men! A most admirable trait! +Permit me to present you to the Sheriffs." + +The Sheriffs appeared highly delighted. Horace shook hands with both of +them; indeed, in the flurry of the moment he very nearly offered to do +so with the Sword and Mace bearers as well, but their hands were, as it +happened, otherwise engaged. + +"The actual presentation," said the Lord Mayor, "takes place in the +Great Hall, as you are doubtless aware." + +"I--I have been given to understand so," said Horace, with a sinking +heart--for he had begun to hope that the worst was over. + +"But before we adjourn," said his host, "you will let me tempt you to +partake of some slight refreshment--just a snack?" + +Horace was not hungry, but it occurred to him that he might get through +the ceremony with more credit after a glass of champagne; so he accepted +the invitation, and was conducted to an extemporised buffet at one end +of the Library, where he fortified himself for the impending ordeal with +a _caviare_ sandwich and a bumper of the driest champagne in the +Corporation cellars. + +"They talk of abolishing us," said the Lord Mayor, as he took an anchovy +on toast; "but I maintain, Mr. Ventimore--I maintain that we, with our +ancient customs, our time-honoured traditions, form a link with the +past, which a wise statesman will preserve, if I may employ a somewhat +vulgar term, untinkered with." + +Horace agreed, remembering a link with a far more ancient past with +which he devoutly wished he had refrained from tinkering. + +"Talking of ancient customs," the Lord Mayor continued, with an odd +blend of pride and apology, "you will shortly have an illustration of +our antiquated procedure, which may impress you as quaint." + +Horace, feeling absolutely idiotic, murmured that he felt sure it would +do that. + +"Before presenting you for the freedom, the Prime Warden and five +officials of the Candlestick-makers' Company will give their testimony +as compurgators in your favour, making oath that you are 'a man of good +name and fame,' and that (you will be amused at this, Mr. +Ventimore)--that you 'do desire the freedom of this city, whereby to +defraud the Queen or the City.' Ha, ha! Curious way of putting it, is it +not?" + +"Very," said Horace, guiltily, and not a little concerned on the +official's account. + +"A mere form!" said the Lord Mayor; "but I for one, Mr. Ventimore--I for +one should be sorry to see the picturesque old practices die out. To my +mind," he added, as he finished a _pâté de foie gras_ sandwich, "the +modern impatience to sweep away all the ancient landmarks (whether they +be superannuated or not) is one of the most disquieting symptoms of the +age. You won't have any more champagne? Then I think we had better be +making our way to the Great Hall for the Event of the Day." + +"I'm afraid," said Horace, with a sudden consciousness of his +incongruously Oriental attire--"I'm afraid this is not quite the sort of +dress for such a ceremony. If I had known----" + +"Now, don't say another word!" said the Lord Mayor. "Your costume is +very nice--very nice indeed, and--and most appropriate, I am sure. But I +see the City Marshal is waiting for us to head the procession. Shall we +lead the way?" + +The band struck up the March of the Priests from _Athalie_, and Horace, +his head in a whirl, walked with his host, followed by the City Lands +Committee, the Sheriffs, and other dignitaries, through the Art Gallery +and into the Great Hall, where their entrance was heralded by a flourish +of trumpets. + +The Hall was crowded, and Ventimore found himself the object of a +popular demonstration which would have filled him with joy and pride if +he could only have felt that he had done anything whatever to justify +it, for it was ridiculous to suppose that he had rendered himself a +public benefactor by restoring a convicted Jinnee to freedom and society +generally. + +His only consolation was that the English are a race not given to +effusiveness without very good reason, and that before the ceremony was +over he would be enabled to gather what were the particular services +which had excited such unbounded enthusiasm. + +Meanwhile he stood there on the crimson-draped and flower-bedecked dais, +bowing repeatedly, and trusting that he did not look so forlornly +foolish as he felt. A long shaft of sunlight struck down between the +Gothic rafters, and dappled the brown stone walls with patches of gold; +the electric lights in the big hooped chandeliers showed pale and feeble +against the subdued glow of the stained glass; the air was heavy with +the scent of flowers and essences. Then there was a rustle of +expectation in the audience, and a pause, in which it seemed to Horace +that everybody on the dais was almost as nervous and at a loss what to +do next as he was himself. He wished with all his soul that they would +hurry the ceremony through, anyhow, and let him go. + +At length the proceedings began by a sort of solemn affectation of +having merely met there for the ordinary business of the day, which to +Horace just then seemed childish in the extreme; it was resolved that +"items 1 to 4 on the agenda need not be discussed," which brought them +to item 5. + +Item 5 was a resolution, read by the Town Clerk, that "the freedom of +the City should be presented to Horace Ventimore, Esq., Citizen and +Candlestick-maker" (which last Horace was not aware of being, but +supposed vaguely that it had been somehow managed while he was at the +buffet in the Library), "in recognition of his services"--the resolution +ran, and Horace listened with all his ears--"especially in connection +with ..." It was most unfortunate--but at this precise point the +official was seized with an attack of coughing, in which all was lost +but the conclusion of the sentence, " ... that have justly entitled him +to the gratitude and admiration of his fellow-countrymen." + +Then the six compurgators came forward and vouched for Ventimore's +fitness to receive the freedom. He had painful doubts whether they +altogether understood what a responsibility they were undertaking--but +it was too late to warn them and he could only trust that they knew more +of their business than he did. + +After this the City Chamberlain read him an address, to which Horace +listened in resigned bewilderment. The Chamberlain referred to the +unanimity and enthusiasm with which the resolution had been carried, and +said that it was his pleasing and honourable duty, as the mouthpiece of +that ancient City, to address what he described with some inadequacy as +"a few words" to one by adding whose name to their roll of freemen the +Corporation honoured rather themselves than the recipient of their +homage. + +It was flattering, but to Horace's ear the phrases sounded excessive, +almost fulsome--though, of course, that depended very much on what he +had done, which he had still to ascertain. The orator proceeded to read +him the "Illustrious List of London's Roll of Fame," a recital which +made Horace shiver with apprehension. For what names they were! What +glorious deeds they had performed! How was it possible that he--plain +Horace Ventimore, a struggling architect who had missed his one great +chance--could have achieved (especially without even being aware of it) +anything that would not seem ludicrously insignificant by comparison? + +He had a morbid fancy that the marble goddesses, or whoever they were, +at the base of Nelson's monument opposite, were regarding him with stony +disdain and indignation; that the statue of Wellington knew him for an +arrant impostor, and averted his head with cold contempt; and that the +effigy of Lord Mayor Beckford on the right of the dais would come to +life and denounce him in another moment. + +"Turning now to your own distinguished services," he suddenly heard the +City Chamberlain resuming, "you are probably aware, sir, that it is +customary on these occasions to mention specifically the particular +merit which had been deemed worthy of civic recognition." + +Horace was greatly relieved to hear it, for it struck him as a most +sensible and, in his own particular case, essential formality. + +"But, on the present occasion, sir," proceeded the speaker, "I feel, as +all present must feel, that it would be unnecessary--nay, almost +impertinent--were I to weary the public ear by a halting recapitulation +of deeds with which it is already so appreciatively familiar." At this +he was interrupted by deafening and long-continued applause, at the end +of which he continued: "I have only therefore, to greet you in the name +of the Corporation, and to offer you the right hand of fellowship as a +Freeman, and Citizen, and Candlestick-maker of London." + +As he shook hands he presented Horace with a copy of the Oath of +Allegiance, intimating that he was to read it aloud. Naturally, +Ventimore had not the least objection to swear to be good and true to +our Sovereign Lady Queen Victoria, or to be obedient to the Lord Mayor, +and warn him of any conspiracies against the Queen's peace which might +chance to come under his observation; so he took the oath cheerfully +enough, and hoped that this was really the end of the ceremony. + +However, to his great chagrin and apprehension, the Lord Mayor rose with +the evident intention of making a speech. He said that the conclusion of +the City to bestow the highest honour in their gift upon Mr. Horace +Ventimore had been--here he hesitated--somewhat hastily arrived at. +Personally, he would have liked a longer time to prepare, to make the +display less inadequate to, and worthier of, this exceptional occasion. +He thought that was the general feeling. (It evidently was, judging from +the loud and unanimous cheering). However, for reasons which--for +reasons with which they were as well acquainted as himself, the notice +had been short. The Corporation had yielded (as they always did, as it +would always be their pride and pleasure to yield) to popular pressure +which was practically irresistible, and had done the best they could in +the limited--he might almost say the unprecedentedly limited--period +allowed them. The proudest leaf in Mr. Ventimore's chaplet of laurels +to-day was, he would venture to assert, the sight of the extraordinary +enthusiasm and assemblage, not only in that noble hall, but in the +thoroughfares of this mighty Metropolis. Under the circumstances, this +was a marvellous tribute to the admiration and affection which Mr. +Ventimore had succeeded in inspiring in the great heart of the people, +rich and poor, high and low. He would not detain his hearers any longer; +all that remained for him to do was to ask Mr. Ventimore's acceptance of +a golden casket containing the roll of freedom, and he felt sure that +their distinguished guest, before proceeding to inscribe his name on the +register, would oblige them all by some account from his own lips of--of +the events in which he had figured so prominently and so creditably. + +Horace received the casket mechanically; there was a universal cry of +"Speech!" from the audience, to which he replied by shaking his head in +helpless deprecation--but in vain; he found himself irresistibly pressed +towards the rail in front of the dais, and the roar of applause which +greeted him saved him from all necessity of attempting to speak for +nearly two minutes. + +During that interval he had time to clear his brain and think what he +had better do or say in his present unenviable dilemma. For some time +past a suspicion had been growing in his mind, until it had now almost +swollen into certainty. He felt that, before he compromised himself, or +allowed his too generous entertainers to compromise themselves +irretrievably, it was absolutely necessary to ascertain his real +position, and, to do that, he must make some sort of speech. With this +resolve, all his nervousness and embarrassment and indecision melted +away; he faced the assembly coolly and gallantly, convinced that his +best alternative now lay in perfect candour. + +"My Lord Mayor, my lords, ladies, and gentlemen," he began, in a clear +voice which penetrated to the farthest gallery and commanded instant +attention. "If you expect to hear from me any description of what I've +done to be received like this, I'm afraid you will be disappointed. For +my own belief is that I've done nothing whatever." + +There was a general outcry of "No, no!" at this, and a fervid murmur of +protest. + +"It's all very well to say 'No, no,'" said Horace, "and I am extremely +grateful to you all for the interruption. Still, I can only repeat that +I am absolutely unaware of having ever rendered my Country, or this +great City, a single service deserving of the slightest acknowledgment. +I wish I could feel I had--but the truth is that, if I have, the fact +has entirely slipped from my memory." + +Again there were murmurs, this time with a certain under-current of +irritation; and he could hear the Lord Mayor behind him remarking to the +City Chamberlain that this was not at all the kind of speech for the +occasion. + +"I know what you're thinking," said Horace. "You're thinking this is +mock modesty on my part. But it's nothing of the sort. _I_ don't know +what I've done--but I presume you are all better informed. Because the +Corporation wouldn't have given me that very charming casket--you +wouldn't all of you be here like this--unless you were under a strong +impression that I'd done _something_ to deserve it." At this there was a +fresh outburst of applause. "Just so," said Horace, calmly. "Well, now, +will any of you be kind enough to tell me, in a few words, _what_ you +suppose I've done?" + +There was a dead silence, in which every one looked at his or her +neighbour and smiled feebly. + +"My Lord Mayor," continued Horace, "I appeal to you to tell me and this +distinguished assembly why on earth we're all here!" + +The Lord Mayor rose. "I think it sufficient to say," he announced with +dignity, "that the Corporation and myself were unanimously of opinion +that this distinction should be awarded--for reasons which it is +unnecessary and--hum--ha--invidious to enter into here." + +"I am sorry," persisted Horace, "but I must press your lordship for +those reasons. I have an object.... Will the City Chamberlain oblige me, +then?... No? Well, then, the Town Clerk?... No?--it's just as I +suspected: none of you can give me your reasons, and shall I tell you +why? Because there _aren't_ any.... Now, do bear with me for a moment. +I'm quite aware this is very embarrassing for all of you--but remember +that it's infinitely more awkward for _me_! I really cannot accept the +freedom of the City under any suspicion of false pretences. It would be +a poor reward for your hospitality, and base and unpatriotic into the +bargain, to depreciate the value of so great a distinction by permitting +it to be conferred unworthily. If, after you've heard what I am going to +tell you, you still insist on my accepting such an honour, of course I +will not be so ungracious as to refuse it. But I really don't feel that +it would be right to inscribe my name on your Roll of Fame without some +sort of explanation. If I did, I might, for anything I know, +involuntarily be signing the death-warrant of the Corporation!" + +There was a breathless hush upon this; the silence grew so intense that +to borrow a slightly involved metaphor from a distinguished friend of +the writer's, you might have picked up a pin in it! Horace leaned +sideways against the rail in an easy attitude, so as to face the Lord +Mayor, as well as a portion of his audience. + +"Before I go any farther," he said, "will your lordship pardon me if I +suggest that it might be as well to direct that all reporters present +should immediately withdraw?" + +The reporters' table was instantly in a stir of anger, and many of the +guests expressed some dissatisfaction. "We, at least," said the Lord +Mayor, rising, flushed with annoyance, "have no reason to dread +publicity. I decline to make a hole-and-corner affair of this. I shall +give no such orders." + +"Very well," said Horace, when the chorus of approval had subsided. "My +suggestion was made quite as much in the Corporation's interests as +mine. I merely thought that, when you all clearly understood how grossly +you've been deluded, you might prefer to have the details kept out of +the newspapers if possible. But if you particularly want them published +over the whole world, why, of course----" + +An uproar followed here, under cover of which the Lord Mayor contrived +to give orders to have the doors fastened till further directions. + +"Don't make this more difficult and disagreeable for me than it is +already!" said Horace, as soon as he could obtain a hearing again. "You +don't suppose that I should have come here in this Tom-fool's dress, +imposing myself on the hospitality of this great City, if I could have +helped it! If you've been brought here under false pretences, so have I. +If you've been made to look rather foolish, what is _your_ situation to +mine? The fact is, I am the victim of a headstrong force which I am +utterly unable to control...." + +Upon this a fresh uproar arose, and prevented him from continuing for +some time. "I only ask for fair play and a patient hearing!" he pleaded. +"Give me that, and I will undertake to restore you all to good humour +before I have done." + +They calmed down at this appeal, and he was able to proceed. "My case is +simply this," he said. "A little time ago I happened to go to an auction +and buy a large brass bottle...." + +For some inexplicable reason his last words roused the audience to +absolute frenzy; they would not hear anything about the brass bottle. +Every time he attempted to mention it they howled him down, they hissed, +they groaned, they shook their fists; the din was positively deafening. + +Nor was the demonstration confined to the male portion of the assembly. +One lady, indeed, who is a prominent leader in society, but whose name +shall not be divulged here, was so carried away by her feelings as to +hurl a heavy cut-glass bottle of smelling-salts at Horace's offending +head. Fortunately for him, it missed him and only caught one of the +officials (Horace was not in a mood to notice details very accurately, +but he had a notion that it was the City Remembrancer) somewhere about +the region of the watch-pocket. + +"_Will_ you hear me out?" Ventimore shouted. "I'm not trifling. I +haven't told you yet what was inside the bottle. When I opened it, I +found ..." + +He got no farther--for, as the words left his lips, he felt himself +seized by the collar of his robe and lifted off his feet by an agency he +was powerless to resist. + +Up and up he was carried, past the great chandeliers, between the carved +and gilded rafters, pursued by a universal shriek of dismay and horror. +Down below he could see the throng of pale, upturned faces, and hear the +wild screams and laughter of several ladies of great distinction in +violent hysterics. And the next moment he was in the glass lantern, and +the latticed panes gave way like tissue paper as he broke through into +the open air, causing the pigeons on the roof to whirr up in a flutter +of alarm. + +Of course, he knew that it was the Jinnee who was abducting him in this +sensational manner, and he was rather relieved than alarmed by Fakrash's +summary proceeding, for he seemed, for once, to have hit upon the best +way out of a situation that was rapidly becoming impossible. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +HIGH WORDS + + +Once outside in the open air, the Jinnee "towered" like a pheasant shot +through the breast, and Horace closed his eyes with a combined +swing-switchback-and-Channel-passage sensation during a flight which +apparently continued for hours, although in reality it probably did not +occupy more than a very few seconds. His uneasiness was still further +increased by his inability to guess where he was being taken to--for he +felt instinctively that they were not travelling in the direction of +home. + +At last he felt himself set down on some hard, firm surface, and +ventured to open his eyes once more. When he realised where he actually +was, his knees gave way under him, and he was seized with a sudden +giddiness that very nearly made him lose his balance. For he found +himself standing on a sort of narrow ledge or cornice immediately under +the ball at the top of St. Paul's. + +Many feet beneath him spread the dull, leaden summit of the dome, its +raised ridges stretching, like huge serpents over the curve, beyond +which was a glimpse of the green roof of the nave and the two west +towers, with their grey columns and urn-topped buttresses and gilded +pineapples, which shone ruddily in the sun. + +He had an impression of Ludgate Hill and Fleet Street as a deep, winding +ravine, steeped in partial shadow; of long sierras of roofs and +chimney-pots, showing their sharp outlines above mouse-coloured +smoke-wreaths; of the broad, pearl-tinted river, with oily ripples and a +golden glitter where the sunlight touched it; of the gleaming slope of +mud under the wharves and warehouses on the Surrey side; of barges and +steamers moored in black clusters; of a small tug fussing noisily down +the river, leaving a broadening arrow-head in its wake. + +Cautiously he moved round towards the east, where the houses formed a +blurred mosaic of cream, slate, indigo, and dull reds and browns, above +which slender rose-flushed spires and towers pierced the haze, stained +in countless places by pillars of black, grey, and amber smoke, and +lightened by plumes and jets of silvery steam, till all blended by +imperceptible gradations into a sky of tenderest gold slashed with +translucent blue. + +It was a magnificent view, and none the less so because the +indistinctness of all beyond a limited radius made the huge City seem +not only mystical, but absolutely boundless in extent. But although +Ventimore was distinctly conscious of all this, he was scarcely in a +state to appreciate its grandeur just then. He was much too concerned +with wondering why Fakrash had chosen to plant him up there in so +insecure a position, and how he was ever to be rescued from it, since +the Jinnee had apparently disappeared. + +He was not far off, however, for presently Horace saw him stalk round +the narrow cornice with an air of being perfectly at home on it. + +"So there you are!" said Ventimore; "I thought you'd deserted me again. +What have you brought me up here for?" + +"Because I desired to have speech with thee in private," replied the +Jinnee. + +"We're not likely to be intruded on here, certainly," said Horace. "But +isn't it rather exposed, rather public? If we're seen up here, you know, +it will cause a decided sensation." + +"I have laid a spell on all below that they should not raise their +eyes. Be seated, therefore, and hear my words." + +Horace lowered himself carefully to a sitting position, so that his legs +dangled in space, and Fakrash took a seat by his side. "O, most +indiscreet of mankind!" he began, in an aggrieved tone; "thou hast been +near the committal of a great blunder, and doing ill to thyself and to +me!" + +"Well, I _do_ like that!" retorted Horace; "when you let me in for all +that freedom of the City business, and then sneaked off, leaving me to +get out of it the best way I could, and only came back just as I was +about to explain matters, and carried me up through the roof like a sack +of flour. Do you consider that tactful on your part?" + +"Thou hadst drunk wine and permitted it to creep as far as the place of +secrets." + +"Only one glass," said Horace; "and I wanted it, I can assure you. I was +obliged to make a speech to them, and, thanks to you, I was in such a +hole that I saw nothing for it but to tell the truth." + +"Veracity, as thou wilt learn," answered the Jinnee, "is not invariably +the Ship of Safety. Thou wert about to betray the benefactor who +procured for thee such glory and honour as might well cause the +gall-bladder of lions to burst with envy!" + +"If any lion with the least sense of humour could have witnessed the +proceedings," said Ventimore, "he might have burst with +laughter--certainly not envy. Good Lord! Fakrash," he cried, in his +indignation, "I've never felt such an absolute ass in my whole life! If +nothing would satisfy you but my receiving the freedom of the City, you +might at least have contrived some decent excuse for it! But you left +out the only point there was in the whole thing--and all for what?" + +"What doth it signify why the whole populace should come forth to +acclaim thee and do thee honour, so long as they did so?" said Fakrash, +sullenly. "For the report of thy fame would reach Bedeea-el-Jemal." + +"That's just where you're mistaken," said Horace. "If you had not been +in too desperate a hurry to make a few inquiries, you would have found +out that you were taking all this trouble for nothing." + +"How sayest thou?" + +"Well, you would have discovered that the Princess is spared all +temptation to marry beneath her by the fact that she became the bride of +somebody else about thirty centuries ago. She married a mortal, one +Seyf-el-Mulook, a King's son, and they've both been dead a considerable +time--another obstacle to your plans." + +"It is a lie," declared Fakrash. + +"If you will take me back to Vincent Square, I shall be happy to show +you the evidence in your national records," said Horace. "And you may be +glad to know that your old enemy, Mr. Jarjarees, came to a violent end, +after a very sporting encounter with a King's daughter, who, though +proficient in advanced magic, unfortunately perished herself, poor lady, +in the final round." + +"I had intended _thee_ to accomplish his downfall," said Fakrash. + +"I know," said Horace. "It was most thoughtful of you. But I doubt if I +should have done it half as well--and it would have probably cost me an +eye, at the very least. It's better as it is." + +"And how long hast thou known of these things?" + +"Only since last night." + +"Since last night? And thou didst not unfold them unto me till this +instant?" + +"I've had such a busy morning, you see," explained Horace. "There's been +no time." + +"Silly-bearded fool that I was to bring this misbegotten dog into the +august presence of the great Lord Mayor himself (on whom be peace!)," +cried the Jinnee. + +"I object to being referred to as a misbegotten dog," said Horace, "but +with the rest of your remark I entirely concur. I'm afraid the Lord +Mayor is very far from being at peace just now." He pointed to the steep +roof of the Guildhall, with its dormers and fretted pinnacles, and the +slender lantern through which he had so lately made his inglorious exit. +"There's the devil of a row going on under that lantern just now, Mr. +Fakrash, you may depend upon that. They've locked the doors till they +can decide what to do next--which will take them some time. And it's all +your fault!" + +"It was thy doing. Why didst thou dare to inform the Lord Mayor that he +was deceived?" + +"Why? Because I thought he ought to know. Because I was bound, +particularly after my oath of allegiance, to warn him of any conspiracy +against him. Because I was in such a hat. He'll understand all that--he +won't blame _me_ for this business." + +"It is fortunate," observed the Jinnee, "that I flew away with thee +before thou couldst pronounce my name." + +"You gave yourself away," said Horace. "They all saw you, you know. You +weren't flying so particularly fast. They'll recognise you again. If you +_will_ carry off a man from under the Lord Mayor's very nose, and shoot +up through the roof like a rocket with him, you can't expect to escape +some notice. You see, you happen to be the only unbottled Jinnee in this +City." + +Fakrash shifted his seat on the cornice. "I have committed no act of +disrespect unto the Lord Mayor," he said, "therefore he can have no just +cause of anger against me." + +Horace perceived that the Jinnee was not altogether at ease, and pushed +his advantage accordingly. + +"My dear good old friend," he said, "you don't seem to realise yet what +an awful thing you've done. For your own mistaken purposes, you have +compelled the Chief Magistrate and the Corporation of the greatest City +in the world to make themselves hopelessly ridiculous. They'll never +hear the last of this affair. Just look at the crowds waiting patiently +below there. Look at the flags. Think of that gorgeous conveyance of +yours standing outside the Guildhall. Think of the assembly inside--all +the most aristocratic, noble, and distinguished personages in the land," +continued Horace, piling it on as he proceeded; "all collected for what? +To be made fools of by a Jinnee out of a brass bottle!" + +"For their own sakes they will preserve silence," said Fakrash, with a +gleam of unwonted shrewdness. + +"Probably they would hush it up, if they only could," conceded Horace. +"But how _can_ they? What are they to say? What plausible explanation +can they give? Besides, there's the Press: you don't know what the Press +is; but I assure you its power is tremendous--it's simply impossible to +keep anything secret from it nowadays. It has eyes and ears everywhere, +and a thousand tongues. Five minutes after the doors in that hall are +unlocked (and they can't keep them locked _much_ longer) the reporters +will be handing in their special descriptions of you and your latest +vagaries to their respective journals. Within half an hour bills will be +carried through every quarter of London--bills with enormous letters: +'Extraordinary Scene at the Guildhall.' 'Strange End to a Civic +Function.' 'Startling Appearance of an Oriental Genie in the City.' +'Abduction of a Guest of the Lord Mayor.' 'Intense Excitement.' 'Full +Particulars!' And by that time the story will have flashed round the +whole world. 'Keep silence,' indeed! Do you imagine for a moment that +the Lord Mayor, or anybody else concerned, however remotely, will ever +forget, or be allowed to forget, such an outrageous incident as this? If +you do, believe me, you're mistaken." + +"Truly, it would be a terrible thing to incur the wrath of the Lord +Mayor," said the Jinnee, in troubled accents. + +"Awful!" said Horace. "But you seem to have managed it." + +"He weareth round his neck a magic jewel, which giveth him dominion +over devils--is it not so?" + +"You know best," said Horace. + +"It was the splendour of that jewel and the majesty of his countenance +that rendered me afraid to enter his presence, lest he should recognise +me for what I am and command me to obey him, for verily his might is +greater even than Suleyman's, and his hand heavier upon such of the Jinn +as fall into his power!" + +"If that's so," said Horace, "I should strongly advise you to find some +way of putting things straight before it's too late--you've no time to +lose." + +"Thou sayest well," said Fakrash, springing to his feet, and turning his +face towards Cheapside. Horace shuffled himself along the ledge in a +seated position after the Jinnee, and, looking down between his feet, +could just see the tops of the thin and rusty trees in the churchyard, +the black and serried swarms of foreshortened people in the street, and +the scarlet-rimmed mouths of chimney-pots on the tiled roofs below. + +"There is but one remedy I know," said the Jinnee, "and it may be that I +have lost power to perform it. Yet will I make the endeavour." And, +stretching forth his right hand towards the east, he muttered some kind +of command or invocation. + +Horace almost fell off the cornice with apprehension of what might +follow. Would it be a thunderbolt, a plague, some frightful convulsion +of Nature? He felt sure that Fakrash would hesitate at no means, however +violent, of burying all traces of his blunder in oblivion, and very +little hope that, whatever he did, it would prove anything but some +worse indiscretion than his previous performances. + +Happily none of these extreme measures seemed to have occurred to the +Jinnee, though what followed was strange and striking enough. + +For presently, as if in obedience to the Jinnee's weird gesticulations, +a lurid belt of fog came rolling up from the direction of the Royal +Exchange, swallowing up building after building in its rapid course; one +by one the Guildhall, Bow Church, Cheapside itself, and the churchyard +disappeared, and Horace, turning his head to the left, saw the murky +tide sweeping on westward, blotting out Ludgate Hill, the Strand, +Charing Cross, and Westminster--till at last he and Fakrash were alone +above a limitless plain of bituminous cloud, the only living beings +left, as it seemed, in a blank and silent universe. + +"Look again!" said Fakrash, and Horace, looking eastward, saw the spire +of Bow Church, rosy once more, the Guildhall standing clear and intact, +and the streets and house-tops gradually reappearing. Only the flags, +with their unrestful shiver and ripple of colour, had disappeared, and, +with them, the waiting crowds and the mounted constables. The ordinary +traffic of vans, omnibuses, and cabs was proceeding as though it had +never been interrupted--the clank and jingle of harness chains, the +cries and whip-crackings of drivers, rose with curious distinctness +above the incessant trampling roar which is the ground-swell of the +human ocean. + +"That cloud which thou sawest," said Fakrash, "hath swept away with it +all memory of this affair from the minds of every mortal assembled to do +thee honour. See, they go about their several businesses, and all the +past incidents are to them as though they had never been." + +It was not often that Horace could honestly commend any performance of +the Jinnee's, but at this he could not restrain his admiration. "By +Jove!" he said, "that certainly gets the Lord Mayor and everybody else +out of the mess as neatly as possible. I must say, Mr. Fakrash, it's +much the best thing I've seen you do yet." + +"Wait," said the Jinnee, "for presently thou shalt see me perform a yet +more excellent thing." + +There was a most unpleasant green glow in his eyes and a bristle in his +thin beard as he spoke, which suddenly made Horace feel uncomfortable. +He did not like the look of the Jinnee at all. + +"I really think you've done enough for to-day," he said. "And this wind +up here is rather searching. I shan't be sorry to find myself on the +ground again." + +"That," replied the Jinnee, "thou shalt assuredly do before long, O +impudent and deceitful wretch!" And he laid a long, lean hand on +Horace's shoulder. + +"He _is_ put out about something!" thought Ventimore. "But what?" "My +dear sir," he said aloud, "I don't understand this tone of yours. What +have I done to offend you?" + +"Divinely gifted was he who said: 'Beware of losing hearts in +consequence of injury, for the bringing them back after flight is +difficult.'" + +"Excellent!" said Horace. "But I don't quite see the application." + +"The application," explained the Jinnee, "is that I am determined to +cast thee down from here with my own hand!" + +Horace turned faint and dizzy for a moment. Then, by a strong effort of +will, he pulled himself together. "Oh, come now," he said, "you don't +really mean that, you know. After all your kindness! You're much too +good-natured to be capable of anything so atrocious." + +"All pity hath been eradicated from my heart," returned Fakrash. +"Therefore prepare to die, for thou art presently about to perish in the +most unfortunate manner." + +Ventimore could not repress a shudder. Hitherto he had never been able +to take Fakrash quite seriously, in spite of all his supernatural +powers; he had treated him with a half-kindly, half-contemptuous +tolerance, as a well-meaning, but hopelessly incompetent, old foozle. +That the Jinnee should ever become malevolent towards him had never +entered his head till now--and yet he undoubtedly had. How was he to +cajole and disarm this formidable being? He must keep cool and act +promptly, or he would never see Sylvia again. + +As he sat there on the narrow ledge, with a faint and not unpleasant +smell of hops saluting his nostrils from some distant brewery, he tried +hard to collect his thoughts, but could not. He found himself, instead, +idly watching the busy, jostling crowd below, who were all unconscious +of the impending drama so high above them. Just over the rim of the dome +he could see the opaque white top of a lamp on a shelter, where a pigmy +constable stood, directing the traffic. + +Would he look up if Horace called for help? Even if he could, what help +could he render? All he could do would be to keep the crowd back and +send for a covered stretcher. No, he would _not_ dwell on these horrors; +he _must_ fix his mind on some way of circumventing Fakrash. + +How did the people in "The Arabian Nights" manage? The fisherman, for +instance? He persuaded _his_ Jinnee to return to the bottle by +pretending to doubt whether he had ever really been inside it. + +But Fakrash, though simple enough in some respects, was not quite such a +fool as that. Sometimes the Jinn could be mollified and induced to grant +a reprieve by being told stories, one inside the other, like a nest of +Oriental boxes. Unfortunately Fakrash did not seem in the humour for +listening to apologues, and, even if he were, Horace could not think of +or improvise any just then. "Besides," he thought, "I can't sit up here +telling him anecdotes for ever. I'd almost sooner die!" Still, he +remembered that it was generally possible to draw an Arabian Efreet into +discussion: they all loved argument, and had a rough conception of +justice. + +"I think, Mr. Fakrash," he said, "that, in common fairness, I have a +right to know what offence I have committed." + +"To recite thy misdeeds," replied the Jinnee, "would occupy much time." + +"I don't mind that," said Horace, affably. "I can give you as long as +you like. I'm in no sort of a hurry." + +"With me it is otherwise," retorted Fakrash, making a stride towards +him. "Therefore court not life, for thy death hath become unavoidable.' + +"Before we part," said Horace, "you won't refuse to answer one or two +questions?" + +"Didst thou not undertake never to ask any further favour of me? +Moreover, it will avail thee nought. For I am positively determined to +slay thee." + +"I demand it," said Horace, "in the most great name of the Lord Mayor +(on whom be peace!)" + +It was a desperate shot--but it took effect. The Jinnee quailed visibly. + +"Ask, then," he said; "but briefly, for the time groweth short." + +Horace determined to make one last appeal to Fakrash's sense of +gratitude, since it had always seemed the dominant trait in his +character. + +"Well," he said, "but for me, wouldn't you be still in that brass +bottle?" + +"That," replied the Jinnee, "is the very reason why I purpose to destroy +thee!" + +"Oh!" was all Horace could find to say at this most unlooked-for answer. +His sheet anchor, in which he had trusted implicitly, had suddenly +dragged--and he was drifting fast to destruction. + +"Are there any other questions which thou wouldst ask?" inquired the +Jinnee, with grim indulgence; "or wilt thou encounter thy doom without +further procrastination?" + +Horace was determined not to give in just yet; he had a very bad hand, +but he might as well play the game out and trust to luck to gain a stray +trick. + +"I haven't nearly done yet," he said. "And, remember, you've promised to +answer me--in the name of the Lord Mayor!" + +"I will answer one other question, and no more," said the Jinnee, in an +inflexible tone; and Ventimore realised that his fate would depend upon +what he said next. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +A GAME OF BLUFF + + +"Thy second question, O pertinacious one?" said the Jinnee, impatiently. +He was standing with folded arms looking down on Horace, who was still +seated on the narrow cornice, not daring to glance below again, lest he +should lose his head altogether. + +"I'm coming to it," said Ventimore; "I want to know why you should +propose to dash me to pieces in this barbarous way as a return for +letting you out of that bottle. Were you so comfortable in it as all +that?" + +"In the bottle I was at least suffered to rest, and none molested me. +But in releasing me thou didst perfidiously conceal from me that +Suleyman was dead and gone, and that there reigneth one in his stead +mightier a thousand-fold, who afflicteth our race with labours and +tortures exceeding all the punishments of Suleyman." + +"What on earth have you got into your head now? You can't mean the Lord +Mayor?" + +"Whom else?" said the Jinnee, solemnly. "And though, for this once, by a +device I have evaded his vengeance, yet do I know full well that either +by virtue of the magic jewel upon his breast, or through that malignant +monster with the myriad ears and eyes and tongues, which thou callest +'The Press,' I shall inevitably fall into his power before long." + +For the life of him, in spite of his desperate plight, Horace could not +help laughing. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Fakrash," he said, as soon as he +could speak, "but--the Lord Mayor! It's really too absurd. Why, he +wouldn't hurt a hair on a fly's head!" + +"Seek not to deceive me further!" said Fakrash, furiously. "Didst thou +not inform me with thy own mouth that the spirits of Earth, Air, Water, +and Fire were subject to his will? Have I no eyes? Do I not behold from +here the labours of my captive brethren? What are those on yonder +bridges but enslaved Jinn, shrieking and groaning in clanking fetters, +and snorting forth steam, as they drag their wheeled burdens behind +them? Are there not others toiling, with panting efforts, through the +sluggish waters; others again, imprisoned in lofty pillars, from which +the smoke of their breath ascendeth even unto Heaven? Doth not the air +throb and quiver with their restless struggles as they writhe below in +darkness and torment? And thou hast the shamelessness to pretend that +these things are done in the Lord Mayor's own realms without his +knowledge! Verily thou must take me for a fool!" + +"After all," reflected Ventimore, "if he chooses to consider that +railway engines and steamers, and machinery generally, are inhabited by +so many Jinn 'doing time,' it's not to my interest to undeceive +him--indeed, it's quite the contrary!" + +"I wasn't aware the Lord Mayor had so much power as all that," he said; +"but very likely you're right. And if you're so anxious to keep in +favour with him, it would be a great mistake to kill me. That _would_ +annoy him." + +"Not so," said the Jinnee, "for I should declare that thou hadst spoken +slightingly of him in my hearing, and that I had slain thee on that +account." + +"Your proper course," said Horace, "would be to hand me over to him, and +let _him_ deal with the case. Much more regular." + +"That may be," said Fakrash; "but I have conceived so bitter a hatred to +thee by reason of thy insolence and treachery, that I cannot forego the +delight of slaying thee with my own hand." + +"Can't you really?" said Horace, on the verge of despair. "And _then_, +what will you do?" + +"Then," replied the Jinnee, "I shall flee away to Arabia, where I shall +be safe." + +"Don't you be too sure of that!" said Horace. "You see all those wires +stretched on poles down there? Those are the pathways of certain Jinn +known as electric currents, and the Lord Mayor could send a message +along them which would be at Baghdad before you had flown farther than +Folkestone. And I may mention that Arabia is now more or less under +British jurisdiction." + +He was bluffing, of course, for he knew perfectly well that, even if any +extradition treaty could be put in force, the arrest of a Jinnee would +be no easy matter. + +"Thou art of opinion, then, that I should be no safer in mine own +country?" inquired Fakrash. + +"I swear by the name of the Lord Mayor (to whom be all reverence!)" said +Horace, "that there is no land you could fly to where you would be any +safer than you are here." + +"If I were but sealed up in my bottle once more," said the Jinnee, +"would not even the Lord Mayor have respect unto the seal of Suleyman, +and forbear to disturb me?" + +"Why, of course he would!" cried Horace, hardly daring to believe his +ears. "That's really a brilliant idea of yours, my dear Mr. Fakrash." + +"And in the bottle I should not be compelled to work," continued the +Jinnee. "For labour of all kinds hath ever been abhorrent unto me." + +"I can quite understand that," said Horace, sympathetically. "Just +imagine your having to drag an excursion train to the seaside on a Bank +Holiday, or being condemned to print off a cheap comic paper, or even +the _War Cry_, when you might be leading a snug and idle existence in +your bottle. If I were you, I should go and get inside it at once. +Suppose we go back to Vincent Square and find it?" + +"I shall return to the bottle, since in that alone there is safety," +said the Jinnee. "But I shall return alone." + +"Alone!" cried Horace. "You're not going to leave me stuck up here all +by myself?" + +"By no means," said the Jinnee. "Have I not said that I am about to cast +thee to perdition? Too long have I delayed in the accomplishment of this +duty." + +Once more Horace gave himself up for lost; which was doubly bitter, just +when he had begun to consider that the danger was past. But even then, +he was determined to fight to the last. + +"One moment," he said. "Of course, if you've set your heart on pitching +me over, you must. Only--I may be quite mistaken--but I don't quite see +how you are going to manage the rest of your programme without me, +that's all." + +"O deficient in intelligence!" cried the Jinnee. "What assistance canst +thou render me?" + +"Well," said Horace, "of course, you can get into the bottle +alone--that's simple enough. But the difficulty I see is this: Are you +quite sure you can put the cap on yourself--from the _inside_, you +know?" If he can, he thought, "I'm done for!" + +"That," began the Jinnee, with his usual confidence "will be the easiest +of--nay," he corrected himself, "there be things that not even the Jinn +themselves can accomplish, and one of them is to seal a vessel while +remaining in it. I am indebted to thee for reminding me thereof." + +"Not at all," said Ventimore. "I shall be delighted to come and seal you +up comfortably myself." + +"Again thou speakest folly," exclaimed the Jinnee. "How canst thou seal +me up after I have dashed thee into a thousand pieces?" + +"That," said Horace, with all the urbanity he could command, "is +precisely the difficulty I was trying to convey." + +"There will be no difficulty, for as soon as I am in the bottle I shall +summon certain inferior Efreets, and they will replace the seal." + +"When you are once in the bottle," said Horace, at a venture, "you +probably won't be in a position to summon anybody." + +"_Before_ I get into the bottle, then!" said the Jinnee, impatiently. +"Thou dost but juggle with words!" + +"But about those Efreets," persisted Horace. "You know what Efreets +_are_! How can you be sure that, when they've got you in the bottle, +they won't hand you over to the Lord Mayor? I shouldn't trust them +myself--but, of course, you know best!" + +"Whom shall I trust, then?" said Fakrash, frowning. + +"I'm sure I don't know. It's rather a pity you're so determined to +destroy me, because, as it happens, I'm just the one person living who +could be depended on to seal you up and keep your secret. However, +that's your affair. After all, why should I care what becomes of you? I +shan't be there!" + +"Even at this hour," said the Jinnee, undecidedly, "I might find it in +my heart to spare thee, were I but sure that thou wouldst be faithful +unto me!" + +"I should have thought I was more to be trusted than one of your beastly +Efreets!" said Horace, with well-assumed indifference. "But never mind, +I don't know that I care, after all. I've nothing particular to live for +now. You've ruined me pretty thoroughly, and you may as well finish your +work. I've a good mind to jump over, and save you the trouble. Perhaps, +when you see me bouncing down that dome, you'll be sorry!" + +"Refrain from rashness!" said the Jinnee, hastily, without suspecting +that Ventimore had no serious intention of carrying out his threat. "If +thou wilt do as thou art bidden, I will not only pardon thee, but grant +thee all that thou desirest." + +"Take me back to Vincent Square first," said Horace. "This is not the +place to discuss business." + +"Thou sayest rightly," replied the Jinnee; "hold fast to my sleeve, and +I will transport thee to thine abode." + +"Not till you promise to play fair," said Horace, pausing on the brink +of the ledge. "Remember, if you let me go now you drop the only friend +you've got in the world!" + +"May I be thy ransom!" replied Fakrash. "There shall not be harmed a +hair of thy head!" + +Even then Horace had his misgivings; but as there was no other way of +getting off that cornice, he decided to take the risk. And, as it +proved, he acted judiciously, for the Jinnee flew to Vincent Square with +honourable precision, and dropped him neatly into the armchair in which +he had little hoped ever to find himself again. + +"I have brought thee hither," said Fakrash, "and yet I am persuaded that +thou art even now devising treachery against me, and wilt betray me if +thou canst." + +Horace was about to assure him once more that no one could be more +anxious than himself to see him safely back in his bottle, when he +recollected that it was impolitic to appear too eager. + +"After the way you've behaved," he said, "I'm not at all sure that I +ought to help you. Still, I said I would, on certain conditions, and +I'll keep my word." + +"Conditions!" thundered the Jinnee. "Wilt thou bargain with me yet +further?" + +"My excellent friend," said Horace quietly, "you know perfectly well +that you can't get yourself safely sealed up again in that bottle +without my assistance. If you don't like my terms, and prefer to take +your chance of finding an Efreet who is willing to brave the Lord Mayor, +well, you've only to say so." + +"I have loaded thee with all manner of riches and favours, and I will +bestow no more upon thee," said the Jinnee, sullenly. "Nay, in token of +my displeasure, I will deprive thee even of such gifts as thou hast +retained." He pointed his grey forefinger at Ventimore, whose turban +and jewelled robes instantly shrivelled into cobwebs and tinder, and +fluttered to the carpet in filmy shreds, leaving him in nothing but his +underclothing. + +"That only shows what a nasty temper you're in," said Horace, blandly, +"and doesn't annoy me in the least. If you'll excuse me, I'll go and put +on some things I can feel more at home in; and perhaps by the time I +return you'll have cooled down." + +He slipped on some clothes hurriedly and re-entered the sitting-room. +"Now, Mr. Fakrash," he said, "we'll have this out. You talk of having +loaded me with benefits. You seem to consider I ought to be grateful to +you. In Heaven's name, for what? I've been as forbearing as possible all +this time, because I gave you credit for meaning well. Now, I'll speak +plainly. I told you from the first, and I tell you now, that I want no +riches nor honours from you. The one real good turn you did me was +bringing me that client, and you spoilt that because you would insist on +building the palace yourself, instead of leaving it to me! As for the +rest--here am I, a ruined and discredited man, with a client who +probably supposes I'm in league with the Devil; with the girl I love, +and might have married, believing that I have left her to marry a +Princess; and her father, unable ever to forgive me for having seen him +as a one-eyed mule. In short, I'm in such a mess all round that I don't +care two straws whether I live or die!" + +"What is all this to me?" said the Jinnee. + +"Only this--that unless you can see your way to putting things straight +for me, I'm hanged if I take the trouble to seal you up in that bottle!" + +"How am _I_ to put things straight for thee?" cried Fakrash, peevishly. + +"If you could make all those people entirely forget that affair in the +Guildhall, you can make my friends forget the brass bottle and +everything connected with it, can't you?" + +"There would be no difficulty in that," Fakrash admitted. + +"Well, do it--and I'll swear to seal you up in the bottle exactly as if +you had never been out of it, and pitch you into the deepest part of the +Thames, where no one will ever disturb you." + +"First produce the bottle, then," said Fakrash, "for I cannot believe +but that thou hast some lurking guile in thy heart." + +"I'll ring for my landlady and have the bottle brought up," said Horace. +"Perhaps that will satisfy you? Stay, you'd better not let her see you." + +"I will render myself invisible," said the Jinnee, suiting the action to +his words. "But beware lest thou play me false," his voice continued, +"for I shall hear thee!" + +"So you've come in, Mr. Ventimore?" said Mrs. Rapkin, as she entered. +"And without the furrin gentleman? I _was_ surprised, and so was Rapkin +the same, to see you ridin' off this morning in the gorgious chariot and +'osses, and dressed up that lovely! 'Depend upon it,' I says to Rapkin, +I says, 'depend upon it, Mr. Ventimore'll be sent for to Buckinham +Pallis, if it ain't Windsor Castle!'" + +"Never mind that now," said Horace, impatiently; "I want that brass +bottle I bought the other day. Bring it up at once, please." + +"I thought you said the other day you never wanted to set eyes on it +again, and I was to do as I pleased with it, sir?" + +"Well, I've changed my mind, so let me have it, quick." + +"I'm sure I'm very sorry, sir, but that you can't, because Rapkin, not +wishful to have the place lumbered up with rubbish, disposed of it on'y +last night to a gentleman as keeps a rag and bone emporium off the +Bridge Road, and 'alf-a-crown was the most he'd give for it, sir." + +"Give me his name," said Horace. + +"Dilger, sir--Emanuel Dilger. When Rapkin comes in I'm sure he'd go +round with pleasure, and see about it, if required." + +"I'll go round myself," said Horace. "It's all right, Mrs. Rapkin, quite +a natural mistake on your part, but--but I happen to want the bottle +again. You needn't stay." + +"O thou smooth-faced and double-tongued one!" said the Jinnee, after she +had gone, as he reappeared to view. "Did I not foresee that thou wouldst +deal crookedly? Restore unto me my bottle!" + +"I'll go and get it at once," said Horace; "I shan't be five minutes." +And he prepared to go. + +"Thou shalt not leave this house," cried Fakrash, "for I perceive +plainly that this is but a device of thine to escape and betray me to +the Press Devil!" + +"If you can't see," said Horace, angrily, "that I'm quite as anxious to +see you safely back in that confounded bottle as ever you can be to get +there, you must be pretty dense! _Can't_ you understand? The bottle's +sold, and I can't buy it back without going out. Don't be so infernally +unreasonable!" + +"Go, then," said the Jinnee, "and I will await thy return here. But know +this: that if thou delayest long or returnest without my bottle, I shall +know that thou art a traitor, and will visit thee and those who are dear +to thee with the most unpleasant punishments!" + +"I'll be back in half an hour, at most," said Horace, feeling that this +would allow him ample margin, and thankful that it did not occur to +Fakrash to go in person. + +He put on his hat, and hurried off in the gathering dusk. He had some +little trouble in finding Mr. Dilger's establishment, which was a dirty, +dusty little place in a back street, with a few deplorable old chairs, +rickety washstands, and rusty fenders outside, and the interior almost +completely blocked by piles of dingy mattresses, empty clock-cases, +tarnished and cracked mirrors, broken lamps, damaged picture-frames, and +everything else which one would imagine could have no possible value +for any human being. But in all this collection of worthless curios the +brass bottle was nowhere to be seen. + +Ventimore went in and found a youth of about thirteen straining his eyes +in the fading light over one of those halfpenny humorous journals which, +thanks to an improved system of education, at least eighty per cent. of +our juvenile population are now enabled to appreciate. + +"I want to see Mr. Dilger," he began. + +"You can't," said the youth. "'Cause he ain't in. He's attending of an +auction." + +"When _will_ he be in, do you know?" + +"Might be back to his tea--but I wasn't to expect him not before +supper." + +"You don't happen to have any old metal bottles--copper or--or brass +would do--for sale?" + +"You don't git at me like that! Bottles is made o' glorss." + +"Well, a jar, then--a big brass pot--anything of that kind?" + +"Don't keep 'em," said the boy, and buried himself once more in his copy +of "Spicy Sniggers." + +"I'll just look round," said Horace, and began to poke about with a +sinking heart, and a horrid dread that he might have come to the wrong +shop, for the big pot-bellied vessel certainly did not seem to be there. +At last, to his unspeakable joy, he discovered it under a piece of +tattered drugget. "Why, this is the sort of thing I meant," he said, +feeling in his pocket and discovering that he had exactly a sovereign. +"How much do you want for it?" + +"I dunno," said the boy. + +"I don't mind three shillings," said Horace, who did not wish to appear +too keen at first. + +"I'll tell the guv'nor when he comes in," was the reply, "and you can +look in later." + +"I want it at once," insisted Horace. "Come, I'll give you three-and-six +for it." + +"It's more than it's wurf," replied the candid youth. + +"Perhaps," said Horace, "but I'm rather pressed for time. If you'll +change this sovereign, I'll take the bottle away with me." + +"You seem uncommon anxious to get 'old on it, mister!" said the boy, +with sudden suspicion. + +"Nonsense!" said Horace. "I live close by, and I thought I might as well +take it, that's all." + +"Oh, if that's all, you can wait till the guv'nor's in." + +"I--I mayn't be passing this way again for some time," said Horace. + +"Bound to be, if you live close by," and the provoking youth returned to +his "Sniggers." + +"Do you call this attending to your master's business?" said Horace. +"Listen to me, you young rascal. I'll give you five shillings for it. +You're not going to be fool enough to refuse an offer like that?" + +"I ain't goin' to be fool enough to refuse it--nor yet I ain't goin' to +be fool enough to take it, 'cause I'm only 'ere to see as nobody don't +come in and sneak fings. I ain't got no authority to sell anyfink, and I +don't know the proice o' nuffink, so there you _'ave_ it." + +"Take the five shillings," said Horace, "and if it's too little I'll +come round and settle with your master later." + +"I thought you said you wasn't likely to be porsin' again? No, mister, +you don't kid me that way!" + +Horace had a mad impulse to snatch up the precious bottle then and there +and make off with it, and might have yielded to the temptation, with +disastrous consequences, had not an elderly man entered the shop at that +moment. He was bent, and wore rather more fluff and flue upon his person +than most well-dressed people would consider necessary, but he came in +with a certain air of authority, nevertheless. + +"Mr. Dilger, sir," piped the youth, "'ere's a gent took a fancy to this +'ere brass pot o' yours. Says he _must_ 'ave it. Five shillings he'd got +to, but I told him he'd 'ave to wait till you come in." + +"Quite right, my lad!" said Mr. Dilger, cocking a watery but sharp old +eye at Horace. "Five shillings! Ah, sir, you can't know much about these +hold brass antiquities to make an orfer like that." + +"I know as much as most people," said Horace. "But let us say six +shillings." + +"Couldn't be done, sir; couldn't indeed. Why, I give a pound for it +myself at Christie's, as sure as I'm standin' 'ere in the presence o' my +Maker, and you a sinner!" he declared impressively, if rather +ambiguously. + +"Your memory is not quite accurate," said Horace. "You bought it last +night from a man of the name of Rapkin, who lets lodgings in Vincent +Square, and you paid exactly half a crown for it." + +"If you say so I dare say it's correct, sir," said Mr. Dilger, without +exhibiting the least confusion. "And if I did buy it off Mr. Rapkin, +he's a respectable party, and ain't likely to have come by it +dishonest." + +"I never said he did. What will you take for the thing?" + +"Well, just look at the work in it. They don't turn out the like o' that +nowadays. Dutch, that is; what they used for to put their milk and +such-like in." + +"Damn it!" said Horace, completely losing his temper. "_I_ know what it +was used for. _Will_ you tell me what you want for it?" + +"I couldn't let a curiosity like that go a penny under thirty +shillings," said Mr. Dilger, affectionately. "It would be robbin' +myself." + +"I'll give you a sovereign for it--there," said Horace. "You know best +what profit that represents. That's my last word." + +"_My_ last word to that, sir, is good hevenin'," said the worthy man. + +"Good evening, then," said Horace, and walked out of the shop; rather to +bring Mr. Dilger to terms than because he really meant to abandon the +bottle, for he dared not go back without it, and he had nothing about +him just then on which he could raise the extra ten shillings, supposing +the dealer refused to trust him for the balance--and the time was +growing dangerously short. + +Fortunately the well-worn ruse succeeded, for Mr. Dilger ran out after +him and laid an unwashed claw upon his coat-sleeve. "Don't go, mister," +he said; "I like to do business if I can; though, 'pon my word and +honour, a sovereign for a work o' art like that! Well, just for luck and +bein' my birthday, we'll call it a deal." + +Horace handed over the coin, which left him with a few pence. "There +ought to be a lid or stopper of some sort," he said suddenly. "What have +you done with that?" + +"No, sir, there you're mistook, you are, indeed. I do assure you you +never see a pot of this partickler pattern with a lid to it. Never!" + +"Oh, don't you, though?" said Horace. "I know better. Never mind," he +said, as he recollected that the seal was in Fakrash's possession. "I'll +take it as it is. Don't trouble to wrap it up. I'm in rather a hurry." + +It was almost dark when he got back to his rooms, where he found the +Jinnee shaking with mingled rage and apprehension. + +"No welcome to thee!" he cried. "Dilatory dog that thou art! Hadst thou +delayed another minute, I would have called down some calamity upon +thee." + +"Well, you need not trouble yourself to do that now," returned +Ventimore. "Here's your bottle, and you can creep into it as soon as you +please." + +"But the seal!" shrieked the Jinnee. "What hast thou done with the seal +which was upon the bottle?" + +"Why, you've got it yourself, of course," said Horace, "in one of your +pockets." + +"O thou of base antecedents!" howled Fakrash, shaking out his flowing +draperies. "How should _I_ have the seal? This is but a fresh device of +thine to undo me!" + +"Don't talk rubbish!" retorted Horace. "You made the Professor give it +up to you yesterday. You must have lost it somewhere or other. Never +mind! I'll get a large cork or bung, which will do just as well. And +I've lots of sealing-wax." + +"I will have no seal but the seal of Suleyman!" declared the Jinnee. +"For with no other will there be security. Verily I believe that that +accursed sage, thy friend, hath contrived by some cunning to get the +seal once more into his hands. I will go at once to his abode and compel +him to restore it." + +"I wouldn't," said Horace, feeling extremely uneasy, for it was +evidently a much simpler thing to let a Jinnee out of a bottle than to +get him in again. "He's quite incapable of taking it. And if you go out +now you'll only make a fuss and attract the attention of the Press, +which I thought you rather wanted to avoid." + +"I shall attire myself in the garments of a mortal--even those I assumed +on a former occasion," said Fakrash, and as he spoke his outer robes +modernised into a frock-coat. "Thus shall I escape attention." + +"Wait one moment," said Horace. "What is that bulge in your +breast-pocket?" + +"Of a truth," said the Jinnee, looking relieved but not a little foolish +as he extracted the object, "it is indeed the seal." + +"You're in such a hurry to think the worst of everybody, you see!" said +Horace. "Now, _do_ try to carry away with you into your seclusion a +better opinion of human nature." + +"Perdition to all the people of this age!" cried Fakrash, re-assuming +his green robe and turban, "for I now put no faith in human beings and +would afflict them all, were not the Lord Mayor (on whom be peace!) +mightier than I. Therefore, while it is yet time, take thou the stopper, +and swear that, after I am in this bottle, thou wilt seal it as before +and cast it into deep waters, where no eye will look upon it more!" + +"With all the pleasure in the world!" said Horace; "only you must keep +_your_ part of the bargain first. You will kindly obliterate all +recollection of yourself and the brass bottle from the minds of every +human being who has had anything to do with you or it." + +"Not so," objected the Jinnee, "for thus wouldst thou forget thy +compact." + +"Oh, very well, leave _me_ out, then," said Horace. "Not that anything +could make me forget _you_!" + +Fakrash swept his right hand round in a half circle. "It is +accomplished," he said. "All recollection of myself and yonder bottle is +now erased from the memories of every one but thyself." + +"But how about my client?" said Horace. "I can't afford to lose _him_, +you know." + +"He shall return unto thee," said the Jinnee, trembling with impatience. +"Now perform thy share." + +Horace had triumphed. It had been a long and desperate duel with this +singular being, who was at once so crafty and so childlike, so credulous +and so suspicious, so benevolent and so malign. Again and again he had +despaired of victory, but he had won at last. In another minute or so +this formidable Jinnee would be safely bottled once more, and powerless +to intermeddle and plague him for the future. + +And yet, in the very moment of triumph, quixotic as such scruples may +seem to some, Ventimore's conscience smote him. He could not help a +certain pity for the old creature, who was shaking there convulsively +prepared to re-enter his bottle-prison rather than incur a wholly +imaginary doom. Fakrash had aged visibly within the last hour; now he +looked even older than his three thousand and odd years. True, he had +led Horace a fearful life of late, but at first, at least, his +intentions had been good. His gratitude, if mistaken in its form, was +the sign of a generous disposition. Not every Jinnee, surely, would +have endeavoured to press untold millions and honours and dignities of +all kinds upon him, in return for a service which most mortals would +have considered amply repaid by a brace of birds and an invitation to an +evening party. + +And how was Horace treating _him_? He was taking what, in his heart, he +felt to be a rather mean advantage of the Jinnee's ignorance of modern +life to cajole him into returning to his captivity. Why not suffer him +to live out the brief remainder of his years (for he could hardly last +more than another century or two at most) in freedom? Fakrash had learnt +his lesson: he was not likely to interfere again in human affairs; he +might find his way back to the Palace of the Mountain of the Clouds and +end his days there, in peaceful enjoyment of the society of such of the +Jinn as might still survive unbottled. + +So, obeying--against his own interests--some kindlier impulse, Horace +made an effort to deter the Jinnee, who was already hovering in air +above the neck of the bottle in a swirl of revolving draperies, like +some blundering old bee vainly endeavouring to hit the opening into his +hive. + +"Mr. Fakrash," he cried, "before you go any farther, listen to me. +There's no real necessity, after all, for you to go back to your bottle. +If you'll only wait a little----" + +But the Jinnee, who had now swelled to gigantic proportions, and whose +form and features were only dimly recognisable through the wreaths of +black vapour in which he was involved, answered him from his pillar of +smoke in a terrible voice. "Wouldst thou still persuade me to linger?" +he cried. "Hold thy peace and be ready to fulfil thine undertaking." + +"But, look here," persisted Horace. "I should feel such a brute if I +sealed you up without telling you----" The whirling and roaring column, +in shape like an inverted cone, was being fast sucked down into the +vessel, till only a semi-materialised but highly infuriated head was +left above the neck of the bottle. + +"Must I tarry," it cried, "till the Lord Mayor arrive with his Memlooks, +and the hour of safety is expired? By my head, if thou delayest another +instant, I will put no more faith in thee! And I will come forth once +more, and afflict thee and thy friends--ay, and all the dwellers in this +accursed city--with the most painful and unheard-of calamities." + +And, with these words, the head sank into the bottle with a loud clap +resembling thunder. + +Horace hesitated no longer. The Jinnee himself had absolved him from all +further scruples; to imperil Sylvia and her parents--not to mention all +London--out of consideration for one obstinate and obnoxious old demon, +would clearly be carrying sentiment much too far. + +Accordingly, he made a rush for the jar and slipped the metal cover over +the mouth of the neck, which was so hot that it blistered his fingers, +and, seizing the poker, he hammered down the secret catch until the lid +fitted as closely as Suleyman himself could have required. + +Then he stuffed the bottle into a kit-bag, adding a few coals to give it +extra weight, and toiled off with it to the nearest steamboat pier, +where he spent his remaining pence in purchasing a ticket to the Temple. + + * * * * * + +Next day the following paragraph appeared in one of the evening papers, +which probably had more space than usual at its disposal: + + + "SINGULAR OCCURRENCE ON A PENNY + STEAMER + +"A gentleman on board one of the Thames steamboats (so we are informed +by an eye-witness) met with a somewhat ludicrous mishap yesterday +evening. It appears that he had with him a small portmanteau, or large +hand-bag, which he was supporting on the rail of the stern bulwark. Just +as the vessel was opposite the Savoy Hotel he incautiously raised his +hand to the brim of his hat, thereby releasing hold of the bag, which +overbalanced itself and fell into the deepest part of the river, where +it instantly sank. The owner (whose carelessness occasioned considerable +amusement to passengers in his immediate vicinity) appeared no little +disconcerted by the oversight, and was not unnaturally reticent as to +the amount of his loss, though he was understood to state that the bag +contained nothing of any great value. However this may be, he has +probably learnt a lesson which will render him more careful in future." + + + + +THE EPILOGUE + + +On a certain evening in May Horace Ventimore dined in a private room at +the Savoy, as one of the guests of Mr. Samuel Wackerbath. In fact, he +might almost be said to be the guest of the evening, as the dinner was +given by way of celebrating the completion of the host's new country +house at Lipsfield, of which Horace was the architect, and also to +congratulate him on his approaching marriage (which was fixed to take +place early in the following month) with Miss Sylvia Futvoye. + +"Quite a small and friendly party!" said Mr. Wackerbath, looking round +on his numerous sons and daughters, as he greeted Horace in the +reception-room. "Only ourselves, you see, Miss Futvoye, a young lady +with whom you are fairly well acquainted, and her people, and an old +schoolfellow of mine and his wife, who are not yet arrived. He's a man +of considerable eminence," he added, with a roll of reflected importance +in his voice; "quite worth your cultivating. Sir Lawrence Pountney, his +name is. I don't know if you remember him, but he discharged the onerous +duties of Lord Mayor of London the year before last, and acquitted +himself very creditably--in fact, he got a baronetcy for it." + +As the year before last was the year in which Horace had paid his +involuntary visit to the Guildhall, he was able to reply with truth that +he _did_ remember Sir Lawrence. + +He was not altogether comfortable when the ex-Lord-Mayor was announced, +for it would have been more than awkward if Sir Lawrence had chanced to +remember _him_. Fortunately, he gave no sign that he did so, though his +manner was graciousness itself. "Delighted, my dear Mr. Ventimore," he +said pressing Horace's hand almost as warmly as he had done that October +day of the dais, "most delighted to make your acquaintance! I am always +glad to meet a rising young man, and I hear that the house you have +designed for my old friend here is a perfect palace--a marvel, sir!" + +"I knew he was my man," declared Mr. Wackerbath, as Horace modestly +disclaimed Sir Lawrence's compliment. "You remember, Pountney, my dear +fellow, that day when we were crossing Westminster Bridge together, and +I was telling you I thought of building? 'Go to one of the leading +men--an R.A. and all that sort of thing,' you said, 'then you'll be sure +of getting your money's worth.' But I said, 'No, I like to choose for +myself; to--ah--exercise my own judgment in these matters. And there's a +young fellow I have in my eye who'll beat 'em all, if he's given the +chance. I'm off to see him now.' And off I went to Great Cloister Street +(for he hadn't those palatial offices of his in Victoria Street at that +time) without losing another instant, and dropped in on him with my +little commission. Didn't I, Ventimore?" + +"You did indeed," said Horace, wondering how far these reminiscences +would go. + +"And," continued Mr. Wackerbath, patting Horace on the shoulder, "from +that day to this I've never had a moment's reason to regret it. We've +worked in perfect sympathy. His ideas coincided with mine. I think he +found that I met him, so to speak, on all fours." + +Ventimore assented, though it struck him that a happier expression +might, and would, have been employed if his client had remembered one +particular interview in which he had not figured to advantage. + +They went in to dinner, in a room sumptuously decorated with panels of +grey-green brocade and softly shaded lamps, and screens of gilded +leather; through the centre of the table rose a tall palm, its boughs +hung with small electric globes like magic fruits. + +"This palm," said the Professor, who was in high good humour, "really +gives quite an Oriental look to the table. Personally, I think we might +reproduce the Arabian style of decoration and arrangement generally in +our homes with great advantage. I often wonder it never occurred to my +future son-in-law there to turn his talents in that direction and design +an Oriental interior for himself. Nothing more comfortable and +luxurious--for a bachelor's purposes." + +"I'm sure," said his wife, "Horace managed to make himself quite +comfortable enough as it was. He has the most delightful rooms in +Vincent Square." Ventimore heard her remark to Sir Lawrence: "I shall +never forget the first time we dined there, just after my daughter and +he were engaged. I was quite astonished: everything was so +perfect--quite simple, you know, but _so_ ingeniously arranged, and his +landlady such an excellent cook, too! Still, of course, in many ways, it +will be nicer for him to have a home of his own." + +"With such a beautiful and charming companion to share it with," said +Sir Lawrence, in his most florid manner, "the--ah--poorest home would +prove a Paradise indeed! And I suppose now, my dear young lady," he +added, raising his voice to address Sylvia, "you are busy making your +future abode as exquisite as taste and research can render it, +ransacking all the furniture shops in London for treasures, and going +about to auctions--or do you--ah--delegate that department to Mr. +Ventimore?" + +"I do go about to old furniture shops, Sir Lawrence," she said, "but not +auctions. I'm afraid I should only get just the thing I didn't want if I +tried to bid.... And," she added, in a lower voice, turning to Horace, +"I don't believe _you_ would be a bit more successful, Horace!" + +"What makes you say that, Sylvia?" he asked, with a start. + +"Why, do you mean to say you've forgotten how you went to that auction +for papa, and came away without having managed to get a single thing?" +she said. "What a short memory you must have!" + +There was only tender mockery in her eyes; absolutely no recollection of +the sinister purchase he had made at that sale, or how nearly it had +separated them for ever. So he hastened to admit that perhaps he had +_not_ been particularly successful at the auction in question. + +Sir Lawrence next addressed him across the table. "I was just telling +Mrs. Futvoye," he said, "how much I regretted that I had not the +privilege of your acquaintance during my year of office. A Lord Mayor, +as you doubtless know, has exceptional facilities for exercising +hospitality, and it would have afforded me real pleasure if your first +visit to the Guildhall could have been paid under my--hm--ha--auspices." + +"You are very kind," said Horace, very much on his guard; "I could not +wish to pay it under better." + +"I flatter myself," said the ex-Lord Mayor, "that, while in office, I +did my humble best to maintain the traditions of the City, and I was +fortunate enough to have the honour of receiving more than the average +number of celebrities as guests. But I had one great disappointment, I +must tell you. It had always been a dream of mine that it might fall to +my lot to present some distinguished fellow-countryman with the freedom +of the City. By some curious chance, when the opportunity seemed about +to occur, the thing was put off and I missed it--missed it by the +nearest hair-breadth!" + +"Ah, well, Sir Lawrence," said Ventimore, "one can't have _everything_!" + +"For my part," put in Lady Pountney, who had only caught a word or two +of her husband's remarks, "what _I_ miss most is having the sentinels +present arms whenever I went out for a drive. They did it so nicely and +respectfully. I confess I enjoyed that. My husband never cared much for +it. Indeed, he wouldn't even use the State coach unless he was +absolutely obliged. He was as obstinate as a mule about it!" + +"I see, Lady Pountney," the Professor put in, "that you share the common +prejudice against mules. It's quite a mistaken one. The mule has never +been properly appreciated in this country. He is really the gentlest and +most docile of creatures!" + +"I can't say I like them myself," said Lady Pountney; "such a mongrel +sort of animal--neither one thing nor the other!" + +"And they're hideous too, Anthony," added his wife. "And not at all +clever!" + +"There you're mistaken, my dear," said the Professor; "they are capable +of almost human intelligence. I have had considerable personal +experience of what a mule can do," he informed Lady Pountney, who seemed +still incredulous. "More than most people indeed, and I can assure you, +my dear Lady Pountney, that they readily adapt themselves to almost any +environment, and will endure the greatest hardships without exhibiting +any signs of distress. I see by your expression, Ventimore, that you +don't agree with me, eh?" + +Horace had to set his teeth hard for a moment, lest he should disgrace +himself by a peal of untimely mirth--but by a strong effort of will he +managed to command his muscles. + +"Well, sir," he said, "I've only chanced to come into close contact with +one mule in my life, and, frankly, I've no desire to repeat the +experience." + +"You happened to come upon an unfavourable specimen, that's all," said +the Professor. "There are exceptions to every rule." + +"This animal," Horace said, "was certainly exceptional enough in every +way." + +"Do tell us all about it," pleaded one of the Miss Wackerbaths, and all +the ladies joined in the entreaty until Horace found himself under the +necessity of improvising a story, which, it must be confessed, fell +exceedingly flat. + +This final ordeal past, he grew silent and thoughtful, as he sat there +by Sylvia's side, looking out through the glazed gallery outside upon +the spring foliage along the Embankment, the opaline river, and the shot +towers and buildings on the opposite bank glowing warm brown against an +evening sky of silvery blue. + +Not for the first time did it seem strange, incredible almost, to him +that all these people should be so utterly without any recollection of +events which surely might have been expected to leave some trace upon +the least retentive memory--and yet it only proved once more how +thoroughly and honourably the old Jinnee, now slumbering placidly in his +bottle deep down in unfathomable mud, opposite the very spot where they +were dining, had fulfilled his last undertaking. + +Fakrash, the brass bottle, and all the fantastic and embarrassing +performances were indeed as totally forgotten as though they had never +been. + + * * * * * + +And it is but too probable that even this modest and veracious account +of them will prove to have been included in the general act of +oblivion--though the author will trust as long as possible that +Fakrash-el-Aamash may have neglected to provide for this particular +case, and that the history of the Brass Bottle may thus be permitted to +linger awhile in the memories of some at least of its readers. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BRASS BOTTLE*** + + +******* This file should be named 30689-8.txt or 30689-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/0/6/8/30689 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Anstey</title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 5px; border: none; } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + text-indent: 0px; + } /* page numbers */ + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smaller {font-size: smaller;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .right {text-align: right;} + .tbrk {margin-bottom: 2em;} + + .mono {font-family: monospace;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem div {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Brass Bottle, by F. Anstey</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Brass Bottle</p> +<p>Author: F. Anstey</p> +<p>Release Date: December 16, 2009 [eBook #30689]<br /> + +[Last updated: April 13, 2011]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BRASS BOTTLE***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by David Clarke, Martin Pettit,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h3>THE</h3> + +<h1>BRASS BOTTLE</h1> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>F. ANSTEY</h2> + +<hr /> + +<h4><span class="smcap">First Published</span>, <i>October</i>, <span class="smcap">1900</span></h4> + +<hr /> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table class="tbrk" summary="CONTENTS"> + <tr> + <td><span class="smaller">CHAPTER</span></td> + <td class="right"><span class="smaller">PAGE</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="mono"> I.</span> <span class="smcap">Horace Ventimore receives a Commission</span></td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="mono"> II.</span> <span class="smcap">A Cheap Lot</span></td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="mono"> III.</span> <span class="smcap">An Unexpected Opening</span></td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="mono"> IV.</span> <span class="smcap">At Large</span></td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="mono"> V.</span> <span class="smcap">Carte Blanche</span></td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="mono"> VI.</span> <span class="smcap">Embarras de Richesses</span></td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="mono"> VII.</span> <span class="smcap">"Gratitude—a Lively Sense of Favours to come"</span></td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="mono"> VIII.</span> <span class="smcap">Bachelor's Quarters</span></td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="mono"> IX.</span> <span class="smcap">"Persicos Odi, Puer, Apparatus"</span></td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_85">85</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="mono"> X.</span> <span class="smcap">No Place like Home!</span></td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="mono"> XI.</span> <span class="smcap">A Fool's Paradise</span></td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_115">115</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="mono"> XII.</span> <span class="smcap">The Messenger of Hope</span></td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_132">132</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="mono"> XIII.</span> <span class="smcap">A Choice of Evils</span></td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_143">143</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="mono"> XIV.</span> <span class="smcap">"Since there's no Help, come, let us kiss and part!"</span> </td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_158">158</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="mono"> XV.</span> <span class="smcap">Blushing Honours</span></td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_174">174</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="mono"> XVI.</span> <span class="smcap">A Killing Frost</span></td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_182">182</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="mono"> XVII.</span> <span class="smcap">High Words</span></td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_193">193</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="mono">XVIII.</span> <span class="smcap">A Game of Bluff</span></td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_204">204</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="mono"> </span> <span class="smcap">The Epilogue</span></td> + <td class="right"><a href="#Page_222">222</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<h1>THE BRASS BOTTLE</h1> + +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>HORACE VENTIMORE RECEIVES A COMMISSION</h3> + +<p>"This day six weeks—just six weeks ago!" Horace Ventimore said, half +aloud, to himself, and pulled out his watch. "Half-past twelve—what was +I doing at half-past twelve?"</p> + +<p>As he sat at the window of his office in Great Cloister Street, +Westminster, he made his thoughts travel back to a certain glorious +morning in August which now seemed so remote and irrecoverable. At this +precise time he was waiting on the balcony of the Hôtel de la Plage—the +sole hostelry of St. Luc-en-Port, the tiny Normandy watering-place upon +which, by some happy inspiration, he had lighted during a solitary +cycling tour—waiting until She should appear.</p> + +<p>He could see the whole scene: the tiny cove, with the violet shadow of +the cliff sleeping on the green water; the swell of the waves lazily +lapping against the diving-board from which he had plunged half an hour +before; he remembered the long swim out to the buoy; the exhilarated +anticipation with which he had dressed and climbed the steep path to the +hotel terrace.</p> + +<p>For was he not to pass the whole remainder of that blissful day in +Sylvia Futvoye's society? Were they not to cycle together (there were, +of course, others of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> the party—but they did not count), to cycle over +to Veulettes, to picnic there under the cliff, and ride back—always +together—in the sweet-scented dusk, over the slopes, between the +poplars or the cornfields glowing golden against a sky of warm purple?</p> + +<p>Now he saw himself going round to the gravelled courtyard in front of +the hotel with a sudden dread of missing her. There was nothing there +but the little low cart, with its canvas tilt which was to convey +Professor Futvoye and his wife to the place of <i>rendezvous</i>.</p> + +<p>There was Sylvia at last, distractingly fair and fresh in her cool pink +blouse and cream-coloured skirt; how gracious and friendly and generally +delightful she had been throughout that unforgettable day, which was +supreme amongst others only a little less perfect, and all now fled for ever!</p> + +<p>They had had drawbacks, it was true. Old Futvoye was perhaps the least +bit of a bore at times, with his interminable disquisitions on Egyptian +art and ancient Oriental character-writing, in which he seemed convinced +that Horace must feel a perfervid interest, as, indeed, he thought it +politic to affect. The Professor was a most learned archæologist, and +positively bulged with information on his favourite subjects; but it is +just possible that Horace might have been less curious concerning the +distinction between Cuneiform and Aramæan or Kufic and Arabic +inscriptions if his informant had happened to be the father of anybody +else. However, such insincerities as these are but so many evidences of sincerity.</p> + +<p>So with self-tormenting ingenuity Horace conjured up various pictures +from that Norman holiday of his: the little half-timbered cottages with +their faded blue shutters and the rushes growing out of their thatch +roofs; the spires of village churches gleaming above the bronze-green +beeches; the bold headlands, their ochre and yellow cliffs contrasting +grimly with the soft ridges of the turf above them; the tethered +black-and-white cattle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> grazing peacefully against a background of lapis +lazuli and malachite sea, and in every scene the sensation of Sylvia's +near presence, the sound of her voice in his ears. And now?... He looked +up from the papers and tracing-cloth on his desk, and round the small +panelled room which served him as an office, at the framed plans and +photographs, the set squares and T squares on the walls, and felt a dull +resentment against his surroundings. From his window he commanded a +cheerful view of a tall, mouldering wall, once part of the Abbey +boundaries, surmounted by <i>chevaux-de-frise</i>, above whose +rust-attenuated spikes some plane trees stretched their yellowing branches.</p> + +<p>"She would have come to care for me," Horace's thoughts ran on, +disjointedly. "I could have sworn that that last day of all—and her +people didn't seem to object to me. Her mother asked me cordially enough +to call on them when they were back in town. When I did——"</p> + +<p>When he had called, there had been a difference—not an unusual sequel +to an acquaintanceship begun in a Continental watering-place. It was +difficult to define, but unmistakable—a certain formality and +constraint on Mrs. Futvoye's part, and even on Sylvia's, which seemed +intended to warn him that it is not every friendship that survives the +Channel passage. So he had gone away sore at heart, but fully +recognising that any advances in future must come from their side. They +might ask him to dinner, or at least to call again; but more than a +month had passed, and they had made no sign. No, it was all over; he +must consider himself dropped.</p> + +<p>"After all," he told himself, with a short and anything but mirthful +laugh, "it's natural enough. Mrs. Futvoye has probably been making +inquiries about my professional prospects. It's better as it is. What +earthly chance have I got of marrying unless I can get work of my own? +It's all I can do to keep myself decently. I've<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> no right to dream of +asking any one—to say nothing of Sylvia—to marry me. I should only be +rushing into temptation if I saw any more of her. She's not for a poor +beggar like me, who was born unlucky. Well, whining won't do any +good—let's have a look at Beevor's latest performance."</p> + +<p>He spread out a large coloured plan, in a corner of which appeared the +name of "William Beevor, Architect," and began to study it in a spirit +of anything but appreciation.</p> + +<p>"Beevor gets on," he said to himself. "Heaven knows that I don't grudge +him his success. He's a good fellow—though he <i>does</i> build +architectural atrocities, and seem to like 'em. Who am I to give myself +airs? He's successful—I'm not. Yet if I only had his opportunities, +what wouldn't I make of them!"</p> + +<p>Let it be said here that this was not the ordinary self-delusion of an +incompetent. Ventimore really had talent above the average, with ideals +and ambitions which might under better conditions have attained +recognition and fulfilment before this.</p> + +<p>But he was not quite energetic enough, besides being too proud, to push +himself into notice, and hitherto he had met with persistent ill-luck.</p> + +<p>So Horace had no other occupation now but to give Beevor, whose offices +and clerk he shared, such slight assistance as he might require, and it +was by no means cheering to feel that every year of this enforced +semi-idleness left him further handicapped in the race for wealth and +fame, for he had already passed his twenty-eighth birthday.</p> + +<p>If Miss Sylvia Futvoye had indeed felt attracted towards him at one time +it was not altogether incomprehensible. Horace Ventimore was not a model +of manly beauty—models of manly beauty are rare out of novels, and +seldom interesting in them; but his clear-cut, clean-shaven face +possessed a certain distinction, and if there were faint satirical lines +about the mouth, they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> were redeemed by the expression of the grey-blue +eyes, which were remarkably frank and pleasant. He was well made, and +tall enough to escape all danger of being described as short; +fair-haired and pale, without being unhealthily pallid, in complexion, +and he gave the impression of being a man who took life as it came, and +whose sense of humour would serve as a lining for most clouds that might +darken his horizon.</p> + +<p>There was a rap at the door which communicated with Beevor's office, and +Beevor himself, a florid, thick-set man, with small side-whiskers, burst in.</p> + +<p>"I say, Ventimore, you didn't run off with the plans for that house I'm +building at Larchmere, did you? Because—ah, I see you're looking over +them. Sorry to deprive you, but——"</p> + +<p>"Thanks, old fellow, take them, by all means. I've seen all I wanted to see."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm just off to Larchmere now. Want to be there to check the +quantities, and there's my other house at Fittlesdon. I must go on +afterwards and set it out, so I shall probably be away some days. I'm +taking Harrison down, too. You won't be wanting him, eh?"</p> + +<p>Ventimore laughed. "I can manage to do nothing without a clerk to help +me. Your necessity is greater than mine. Here are the plans."</p> + +<p>"I'm rather pleased with 'em myself, you know," said Beevor; "that roof +ought to look well, eh? Good idea of mine lightening the slate with that +ornamental tile-work along the top. You saw I put in one of your windows +with just a trifling addition. I was almost inclined to keep both gables +alike, as you suggested, but it struck me a little variety—one red +brick and the other 'parged'—would be more out-of-the-way."</p> + +<p>"Oh, much," agreed Ventimore, knowing that to disagree was useless.</p> + +<p>"Not, mind you," continued Beevor, "that I believe in going in for too +much originality in domestic <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>architecture. The average client no more +wants an original house than he wants an original hat; he wants +something he won't feel a fool in. I've often thought, old man, that +perhaps the reason why you haven't got on——you don't mind my speaking +candidly, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit," said Ventimore, cheerfully. "Candour's the cement of +friendship. Dab it on."</p> + +<p>"Well, I was only going to say that you do yourself no good by all those +confoundedly unconventional ideas of yours. If you had your chance +to-morrow, it's my belief you'd throw it away by insisting on some +fantastic fad or other."</p> + +<p>"These speculations are a trifle premature, considering that there +doesn't seem the remotest prospect of my ever getting a chance at all."</p> + +<p>"I got mine before I'd set up six months," said Beevor. "The great +thing, however," he went on, with a flavour of personal application, "is +to know how to use it when it <i>does</i> come. Well, I must be off if I mean +to catch that one o'clock from Waterloo. You'll see to anything that may +come in for me while I'm away, won't you, and let me know? Oh, by the +way, the quantity surveyor has just sent in the quantities for that +schoolroom at Woodford—do you mind running through them and seeing +they're right? And there's the specification for the new wing at +Tusculum Lodge—you might draft that some time when you've nothing else +to do. You'll find all the papers on my desk. Thanks awfully, old chap."</p> + +<p>And Beevor hurried back to his own room, where for the next few minutes +he could be heard bustling Harrison, the clerk, to make haste; then a +hansom was whistled for, there were footsteps down the old stairs, the +sounds of a departing vehicle on the uneven stones, and after that +silence and solitude.</p> + +<p>It was not in Nature to avoid feeling a little envious. Beevor had work +to do in the world: even if it chiefly consisted in profaning sylvan +retreats by smug or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> pretentious villas, it was still work which +entitled him to consideration and respect in the eyes of all +right-minded persons.</p> + +<p>And nobody believed in Horace; as yet he had never known the +satisfaction of seeing the work of his brain realised in stone and brick +and mortar; no building stood anywhere to bear testimony to his +existence and capability long after he himself should have passed away.</p> + +<p>It was not a profitable train of thought, and, to escape from it, he +went into Beevor's room and fetched the documents he had mentioned—at +least they would keep him occupied until it was time to go to his club +and lunch. He had no sooner settled down to his calculations, however, +when he heard a shuffling step on the landing, followed by a knock at +Beevor's office-door. "More work for Beevor," he thought; "what luck the +fellow has! I'd better go in and explain that he's just left town on +business."</p> + +<p>But on entering the adjoining room he heard the knocking repeated—this +time at his own door; and hastening back to put an end to this somewhat +undignified form of hide-and-seek, he discovered that this visitor at +least was legitimately his, and was, in fact, no other than Professor +Anthony Futvoye himself.</p> + +<p>The Professor was standing in the doorway peering short-sightedly +through his convex glasses, his head protruded from his loosely-fitting +great-coat with an irresistible suggestion of an inquiring tortoise. To +Horace his appearance was more welcome than that of the wealthiest +client—for why should Sylvia's father take the trouble to pay him this +visit unless he still wished to continue the acquaintanceship? It might +even be that he was the bearer of some message or invitation.</p> + +<p>So, although to an impartial eye the Professor might not seem the kind +of elderly gentleman whose society would produce any wild degree of +exhilaration, Horace was unfeignedly delighted to see him.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p><p>"Extremely kind of you to come and see me like this, sir," he said +warmly, after establishing him in the solitary armchair reserved for +hypothetical clients.</p> + +<p>"Not at all. I'm afraid your visit to Cottesmore Gardens some time ago +was somewhat of a disappointment."</p> + +<p>"A disappointment?" echoed Horace, at a loss to know what was coming next.</p> + +<p>"I refer to the fact—which possibly, however, escaped your +notice"—explained the Professor, scratching his scanty patch of +grizzled whisker with a touch of irascibility, "that I myself was not at +home on that occasion."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I was greatly disappointed," said Horace, "though of course I +know how much you are engaged. It's all the more good of you to spare +time to drop in for a chat just now."</p> + +<p>"I've not come to chat, Mr. Ventimore. I never chat. I wanted to see you +about a matter which I thought you might be so obliging as to—— But I +observe you are busy—probably too busy to attend to such a small affair."</p> + +<p>It was clear enough now; the Professor was going to build, and had +decided—could it be at Sylvia's suggestion?—to entrust the work to +him! But he contrived to subdue any self-betraying eagerness, and reply +(as he could with perfect truth) that he had nothing on hand just then +which he could not lay aside, and that if the Professor would let him +know what he required, he would take it up at once.</p> + +<p>"So much the better," said the Professor; "so much the better. Both my +wife and daughter declared that it was making far too great a demand +upon your good nature; but, as I told them, 'I am much mistaken,' I +said, 'if Mr. Ventimore's practice is so extensive that he cannot leave +it for one afternoon——'"</p> + +<p>Evidently it was not a house. Could he be needed to escort them +somewhere that afternoon? Even that was more than he had hoped for a few +minutes since. He <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>hastened to repeat that he was perfectly free that +afternoon.</p> + +<p>"In that case," said the Professor, beginning to fumble in all his +pockets—was he searching for a note in Sylvia's handwriting?—"in that +case, you will be conferring a real favour on me if you can make it +convenient to attend a sale at Hammond's Auction Rooms in Covent Garden, +and just bid for one or two articles on my behalf."</p> + +<p>Whatever disappointment Ventimore felt, it may be said to his credit +that he allowed no sign of it to appear. "Of course I'll go, with +pleasure," he said, "if I can be of any use."</p> + +<p>"I knew I shouldn't come to you in vain," said the Professor. "I +remembered your wonderful good nature, sir, in accompanying my wife and +daughter on all sorts of expeditions in the blazing hot weather we had +at St. Luc—when you might have remained quietly at the hotel with me. +Not that I should trouble you now, only I have to lunch at the Oriental +Club, and I've an appointment afterwards to examine and report on a +recently-discovered inscribed cylinder for the Museum, which will fully +occupy the rest of the afternoon, so that it's physically impossible for +me to go to Hammond's myself, and I strongly object to employing a +broker when I can avoid it. Where did I put that catalogue?... Ah, here +it is. This was sent to me by the executors of my old friend, General +Collingham, who died the other day. I met him at Nakada when I was out +excavating some years ago. He was something of a collector in his way, +though he knew very little about it, and, of course, was taken in right +and left. Most of his things are downright rubbish, but there are just a +few lots that are worth securing, at a reasonable figure, by some one +who knew what he was about."</p> + +<p>"But, my dear Professor," remonstrated Horace, not relishing this +responsibility, "I'm afraid I'm as likely as not to pick up some of the +rubbish. I've no special knowledge of Oriental curios."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p><p>"At St. Luc," said the Professor, "you impressed me as having, for an +amateur, an exceptionally accurate and comprehensive acquaintance with +Egyptian and Arabian art from the earliest period." (If this were so, +Horace could only feel with shame what a fearful humbug he must have +been.) "However, I've no wish to lay too heavy a burden on you, and, as +you will see from this catalogue, I have ticked off the lots in which I +am chiefly interested, and made a note of the limit to which I am +prepared to bid, so you'll have no difficulty."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Horace; "I'll go straight to Covent Garden, and slip +out and get some lunch later on."</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps, if you don't mind. The lots I have marked seem to come +on at rather frequent intervals, but don't let that consideration deter +you from getting your lunch, and if you <i>should</i> miss anything by not +being on the spot, why, it's of no consequence, though I don't say it +mightn't be a pity. In any case, you won't forget to mark what each lot +fetches, and perhaps you wouldn't mind dropping me a line when you +return the catalogue—or stay, could you look in some time after dinner +this evening, and let me know how you got on?—that would be better."</p> + +<p>Horace thought it would be decidedly better, and undertook to call and +render an account of his stewardship that evening. There remained the +question of a deposit, should one or more of the lots be knocked down to +him; and, as he was obliged to own that he had not so much as ten pounds +about him at that particular moment, the Professor extracted a note for +that amount from his case, and handed it to him with the air of a +benevolent person relieving a deserving object. "Don't exceed my +limits," he said, "for I can't afford more just now; and mind you give +Hammond your own name, not mine. If the dealers get to know I'm after +the things, they'll run you up. And now, I don't think I need detain you +any longer, especially as time is running on. I'm sure I can trust you +to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> do the best you can for me. Till this evening, then."</p> + +<p>A few minutes later Horace was driving up to Covent Garden behind the +best-looking horse he could pick out.</p> + +<p>The Professor might have required from him rather more than was strictly +justified by their acquaintanceship, and taken his acquiescence too much +as a matter of course—but what of that? After all, he was Sylvia's parent.</p> + +<p>"Even with <i>my</i> luck," he was thinking, "I ought to succeed in getting +at least one or two of the lots he's marked; and if I can only please +him, something may come of it."</p> + +<p>And in this sanguine mood Horace entered Messrs. Hammond's well-known auction rooms.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>A CHEAP LOT</h3> + +<p>In spite of the fact that it was the luncheon hour when Ventimore +reached Hammond's Auction Rooms, he found the big, skylighted gallery +where the sale of the furniture and effects of the late General +Collingham was proceeding crowded to a degree which showed that the +deceased officer had some reputation as a <i>connoisseur</i>.</p> + +<p>The narrow green baize tables below the auctioneer's rostrum were +occupied by professional dealers, one or two of them women, who sat, +paper and pencil in hand, with much the same air of apparent apathy and +real vigilance that may be noticed in the Casino at Monte Carlo. Around +them stood a decorous and businesslike crowd, mostly dealers, of various +types. On a magisterial-looking bench sat the auctioneer, conducting the +sale with a judicial impartiality and dignity which forbade him, even in +his most laudatory comments, the faintest accent of enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>The October sunshine, striking through the glazed roof, re-gilded the +tarnished gas-stars, and suffused the dusty atmosphere with palest gold. +But somehow the utter absence of excitement in the crowd, the calm, +methodical tone of the auctioneer, and the occasional mournful cry of +"Lot here, gentlemen!" from the porter when any article was too large to +move, all served to depress Ventimore's usually mercurial spirits.</p> + +<p>For all Horace knew, the collection as a whole might be of little value, +but it very soon became clear that others besides Professor Futvoye had +singled out such gems as there were, also that the Professor had +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>considerably under-rated the prices they were likely to fetch.</p> + +<p>Ventimore made his bids with all possible discretion, but time after +time he found the competition for some perforated mosque lantern, +engraved ewer, or ancient porcelain tile so great that his limit was +soon reached, and his sole consolation was that the article eventually +changed hands for sums which were very nearly double the Professor's estimate.</p> + +<p>Several dealers and brokers, despairing of a bargain that day, left, +murmuring profanities; most of those who remained ceased to take a +serious interest in the proceedings, and consoled themselves with cheap +witticisms at every favourable occasion.</p> + +<p>The sale dragged slowly on, and, what with continual disappointment and +want of food, Horace began to feel so weary that he was glad, as the +crowd thinned, to get a seat at one of the green baize tables, by which +time the skylights had already changed from livid grey to slate colour +in the deepening dusk.</p> + +<p>A couple of meek Burmese Buddhas had just been put up, and bore the +indignity of being knocked down for nine-and-sixpence the pair with +dreamy, inscrutable simpers; Horace only waited for the final lot marked +by the Professor—an old Persian copper bowl, inlaid with silver and +engraved round the rim with an inscription from Hafiz.</p> + +<p>The limit to which he was authorised to go was two pounds ten; but, so +desperately anxious was Ventimore not to return empty-handed, that he +had made up his mind to bid an extra sovereign if necessary, and say +nothing about it.</p> + +<p>However, the bowl was put up, and the bidding soon rose to three pounds +ten, four pounds, four pounds ten, five pounds, five guineas, for which +last sum it was acquired by a bearded man on Horace's right, who +immediately began to regard his purchase with a more indulgent eye.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p><p>Ventimore had done his best, and failed; there was no reason now why he +should stay a moment longer—and yet he sat on, from sheer fatigue and +disinclination to move.</p> + +<p>"Now we come to Lot 254, gentlemen," he heard the auctioneer saying, +mechanically; "a capital Egyptian mummy-case in fine con—— No, I beg +pardon, I'm wrong. This is an article which by some mistake has been +omitted from the catalogue, though it ought to have been in it. +Everything on sale to-day, gentlemen, belonged to the late General +Collingham. We'll call this No. 253<i>a</i>. Antique brass bottle. Very curious."</p> + +<p>One of the porters carried the bottle in between the tables, and set it +down before the dealers at the farther end with a tired nonchalance.</p> + +<p>It was an old, squat, pot-bellied vessel, about two feet high, with a +long thick neck, the mouth of which was closed by a sort of metal +stopper or cap; there was no visible decoration on its sides, which were +rough and pitted by some incrustation that had formed on them, and been +partially scraped off. As a piece of <i>bric-à-brac</i> it certainly +possessed few attractions, and there was a marked tendency to "guy" it +among the more frivolous brethren.</p> + +<p>"What do you call this, sir?" inquired one of the auctioneer, with the +manner of a cheeky boy trying to get a rise out of his form-master. "Is +it as 'unique' as the others?"</p> + +<p>"You're as well able to judge as I am," was the guarded reply. "Any one +can see for himself it's not modern rubbish."</p> + +<p>"Make a pretty little ornament for the mantelpiece!" remarked a wag.</p> + +<p>"Is the top made to unscrew, or what, sir?" asked a third. "Seems fixed +on pretty tight."</p> + +<p>"I can't say. Probably it has not been removed for some time."</p> + +<p>"It's a goodish weight," said the chief humorist, after handling it. +"What's inside of it, sir—sardines?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p><p>"I don't represent it as having anything inside it," said the +auctioneer. "If you want to know my opinion, I think there's money in it."</p> + +<p>"'Ow much?"</p> + +<p>"Don't misunderstand me, gentlemen. When I say I consider there's money +in it, I'm not alluding to its contents. I've no reason to believe that +it contains anything. I'm merely suggesting the thing itself may be +worth more than it looks."</p> + +<p>"Ah, it might be <i>that</i> without 'urting itself!"</p> + +<p>"Well, well, don't let us waste time. Look upon it as a pure +speculation, and make me an offer for it, some of you. Come."</p> + +<p>"Tuppence-'ap'ny!" cried the comic man, affecting to brace himself for a +mighty effort.</p> + +<p>"Pray be serious, gentlemen. We want to get on, you know. Anything to +make a start. Five shillings? It's not the value of the metal, but I'll +take the bid. Six. Look at it well. It's not an article you come across +every day of your lives."</p> + +<p>The bottle was still being passed round with disrespectful raps and +slaps, and it had now come to Ventimore's right-hand neighbour, who +scrutinised it carefully, but made no bid.</p> + +<p>"That's all <i>right</i>, you know," he whispered in Horace's ear. "That's +good stuff, that is. If I was you, I'd <i>'ave</i> that."</p> + +<p>"Seven shillings—eight—nine bid for it over there in the corner," said +the auctioneer.</p> + +<p>"If you think it's so good, why don't you have it yourself?" Horace +asked his neighbour.</p> + +<p>"Me? Oh, well, it ain't exactly in my line, and getting this last lot +pretty near cleaned me out. I've done for to-day, I 'ave. All the same, +it is a curiosity; dunno as I've seen a brass vawse just that shape +before, and it's genuine old, though all these fellers are too ignorant +to know the value of it. So I don't mind giving you the tip."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p><p>Horace rose, the better to examine the top. As far as he could make out +in the flickering light of one of the gas-stars, which the auctioneer +had just ordered to be lit, there were half-erased scratches and +triangular marks on the cap that might possibly be an inscription. If +so, might there not be the means here of regaining the Professor's +favour, which he felt that, as it was, he should probably forfeit, +justly or not, by his ill-success?</p> + +<p>He could hardly spend the Professor's money on it, since it was not in +the catalogue, and he had no authority to bid for it, but he had a few +shillings of his own to spare. Why not bid for it on his own account as +long as he could afford to do so? If he were outbid, as usual, it would +not particularly matter.</p> + +<p>"Thirteen shillings," the auctioneer was saying, in his dispassionate +tones. Horace caught his eye, and slightly raised his catalogue, while +another man nodded at the same time. "Fourteen in two places." Horace +raised his catalogue again. "I won't go beyond fifteen," he thought.</p> + +<p>"Fifteen. It's <i>against</i> you, sir. Any advance on fifteen? Sixteen—this +very quaint old Oriental bottle going for only sixteen shillings.</p> + +<p>"After all," thought Horace, "I don't mind anything under a pound for +it." And he bid seventeen shillings. "Eighteen," cried his rival, a +short, cheery, cherub-faced little dealer, whose neighbours adjured him +to "sit quiet like a good little boy and not waste his pocket-money."</p> + +<p>"Nineteen!" said Horace. "Pound!" answered the cherubic man.</p> + +<p>"A pound only bid for this grand brass vessel," said the auctioneer, +indifferently. "All done at a pound?"</p> + +<p>Horace thought another shilling or two would not ruin him, and nodded.</p> + +<p>"A guinea. For the last time. You'll <i>lose</i> it, sir," said the +auctioneer to the little man.</p> + +<p>"Go on, Tommy. Don't you be beat. Spring another<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> bob on it, Tommy," his +friends advised him ironically; but Tommy shook his head, with the air +of a man who knows when to draw the line. "One guinea—and that's not +half its value! Gentleman on my left," said the auctioneer, more in +sorrow than in anger—and the brass bottle became Ventimore's property.</p> + +<p>He paid for it, and, since he could hardly walk home nursing a large +metal bottle without attracting an inconvenient amount of attention, +directed that it should be sent to his lodgings at Vincent Square.</p> + +<p>But when he was out in the fresh air, walking westward to his club, he +found himself wondering more and more what could have possessed him to +throw away a guinea—when he had few enough for legitimate expenses—on +an article of such exceedingly problematical value.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>AN UNEXPECTED OPENING</h3> + +<p>Ventimore made his way to Cottesmore Gardens that evening in a highly +inconsistent, not to say chaotic, state of mind. The thought that he +would presently see Sylvia again made his blood course quicker, while he +was fully determined to say no more to her than civility demanded.</p> + +<p>At one moment he was blessing Professor Futvoye for his happy thought in +making use of him; at another he was bitterly recognising that it would +have been better for his peace of mind if he had been left alone. Sylvia +and her mother had no desire to see more of him; if they had, they would +have asked him to come before this. No doubt they would tolerate him now +for the Professor's sake; but who would not rather be ignored than tolerated?</p> + +<p>The more often he saw Sylvia the more she would make his heart ache with +vain longing—whereas he was getting almost reconciled to her +indifference; he would very soon be cured if he didn't see her.</p> + +<p>Why <i>should</i> he see her? He need not go in at all. He had merely to leave +the catalogue with his compliments, and the Professor would learn all he +wanted to know.</p> + +<p>On second thoughts he must go in—if only to return the bank-note. But +he would ask to see the Professor in private. Most probably he would not +be invited to join his wife and daughter, but if he were, he could make +some excuse. They might think it a little odd—a little discourteous, +perhaps; but they would be too relieved to care much about that.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p><p>When he got to Cottesmore Gardens, and was actually at the door of the +Futvoyes' house, one of the neatest and demurest in that retired and +irreproachable quarter, he began to feel a craven hope that the +Professor might be out, in which case he need only leave the catalogue +and write a letter when he got home, reporting his non-success at the +sale, and returning the note.</p> + +<p>And, as it happened, the Professor <i>was</i> out, and Horace was not so glad +as he thought he should be. The maid told him that the ladies were in +the drawing-room, and seemed to take it for granted that he was coming +in, so he had himself announced. He would not stay long—just long +enough to explain his business there, and make it clear that he had no +wish to force his acquaintance upon them. He found Mrs. Futvoye in the +farther part of the pretty double drawing-room, writing letters, and +Sylvia, more dazzlingly fair than ever in some sort of gauzy black frock +with a heliotrope sash and a bunch of Parma violets on her breast, was +comfortably established with a book in the front room, and seemed +surprised, if not resentful, at having to disturb herself.</p> + +<p>"I must apologise," he began, with an involuntary stiffness, "for +calling at this very unceremonious time; but the fact is, the +Professor——"</p> + +<p>"I know all about it," interrupted Mrs. Futvoye, brusquely, while her +shrewd, light-grey eyes took him in with a cool stare that was +humorously observant without being aggressive. "We heard how shamefully +my husband abused your good-nature. Really, it was too bad of him to ask +a busy man like you to put aside his work and go and spend a whole day +at that stupid auction!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'd nothing particular to do. I can't call myself a busy +man—unfortunately," said Horace, with that frankness which scorns to +conceal what other people know perfectly well already.</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, it's very nice of you to make light of it;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> but he ought not +to have done it—after so short an acquaintance, too. And to make it +worse, he has had to go out unexpectedly this evening, but he'll be back +before very long if you don't mind waiting."</p> + +<p>"There's really no need to wait," said Horace, "because this catalogue +will tell him everything, and, as the particular things he wanted went +for much more than he thought, I wasn't able to get any of them."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I'm very glad of it," said Mrs. Futvoye, "for his study is +crammed with odds and ends as it is, and I don't want the whole house to +look like a museum or an antiquity shop. I'd all the trouble in the +world to persuade him that a great gaudy gilded mummy-case was not quite +the thing for a drawing-room. But, please sit down, Mr. Ventimore."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," stammered Horace, "but—but I mustn't stay. If you will tell +the Professor how sorry I was to miss him, and—and give him back this +note which he left with me to cover any deposit, I—I won't interrupt +you any longer."</p> + +<p>He was, as a rule, imperturbable in most social emergencies, but just +now he was seized with a wild desire to escape, which, to his infinite +mortification, made him behave like a shy schoolboy.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said Mrs. Futvoye; "I am sure my husband would be most +annoyed if we didn't keep you till he came."</p> + +<p>"I really ought to go," he declared, wistfully enough.</p> + +<p>"We mustn't tease Mr. Ventimore to stay, mother, when he so evidently +wants to go," said Sylvia, cruelly.</p> + +<p>"Well, I won't detain you—at least, not long. I wonder if you would +mind posting a letter for me as you pass the pillar-box? I've almost +finished it, and it ought to go to-night, and my maid Jessie has such a +bad cold I really don't like sending her out with it."</p> + +<p>It would have been impossible to refuse to stay after that—even if he +had wished. It would only be for a few minutes. Sylvia might spare him +that much<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> of her time. He should not trouble her again. So Mrs. Futvoye +went back to her bureau, and Sylvia and he were practically alone.</p> + +<p>She had taken a seat not far from his, and made a few constrained +remarks, obviously out of sheer civility. He returned mechanical +replies, with a dreary wonder whether this could really be the girl who +had talked to him with such charming friendliness and confidence only a +few weeks ago in Normandy.</p> + +<p>And the worst of it was, she was looking more bewitching than ever; her +slim arms gleaming through the black lace of her sleeves, and the gold +threads in her soft masses of chestnut hair sparkling in the light of +the shaded lamp behind her. The slight contraction of her eyebrows and +the mutinous downward curve of her mouth seemed expressive of boredom.</p> + +<p>"What a dreadfully long time mamma is over that letter!" she said at +last. "I think I'd better go and hurry her up."</p> + +<p>"Please don't—unless you are particularly anxious to get rid of me."</p> + +<p>"I thought you seemed particularly anxious to escape," she said coldly. +"And, as a family, we have certainly taken up quite enough of your time +for one day."</p> + +<p>"That is not the way you used to talk at St. Luc!" he said.</p> + +<p>"At St. Luc? Perhaps not. But in London everything is so different, you see."</p> + +<p>"Very different."</p> + +<p>"When one meets people abroad who—who seem at all inclined to be +sociable," she continued, "one is so apt to think them pleasanter than +they really are. Then one meets them again, and—and wonders what one +ever saw to like in them. And it's no use pretending one feels the same, +because they generally understand sooner or later. Don't you find that?"</p> + +<p>"I do, indeed," he said, wincing, "though I don't know what I've done to +deserve that you should tell me so!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p><p>"Oh, I was not blaming you. You have been most angelic. I can't think +how papa could have expected you to take all that trouble for +him—still, you did, though you must have simply hated it."</p> + +<p>"But, good heavens! don't you know I should be only too delighted to be +of the least service to him—or to any of you?"</p> + +<p>"You looked anything but delighted when you came in just now; you looked +as if your one idea was to get it over as soon as you could. You know +perfectly well you're longing now for mother to finish her letter and +set you free. Do you really think I can't see that?"</p> + +<p>"If all that is true, or partly true," said Horace, "can't you guess why?"</p> + +<p>"I guessed how it was when you called here first that afternoon. Mamma +had asked you to, and you thought you might as well be civil; perhaps +you really did think it would be pleasant to see us again—but it wasn't +the same thing. Oh, I saw it in your face directly—you became +conventional and distant and horrid, and it made me horrid too; and you +went away determined that you wouldn't see any more of us than you could +help. That's why I was so furious when I heard that papa had been to see +you, and with such an object."</p> + +<p>All this was so near the truth, and yet missed it with such perverse +ingenuity, that Horace felt bound to put himself right.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I ought to leave things as they are," he said, "but I can't. +It's no earthly use, I know; but may I tell you why it really was +painful to me to meet you again? I thought <i>you</i> were changed, that you +wished to forget, and wished me to forget—only I can't—that we had +been friends for a short time. And though I never blamed you—it was +natural enough—it hit me pretty hard—so hard that I didn't feel +anxious to repeat the experience."</p> + +<p>"Did it hit you hard?" said Sylvia, softly. "Perhaps<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> I minded too, just +a very little. However," she added, with a sudden smile, that made two +enchanting dimples in her cheeks, "it only shows how much more sensible +it is to have things out. <i>Now</i> perhaps you won't persist in keeping away from us?"</p> + +<p>"I believe," said Horace, gloomily, still determined not to let any +direct avowal pass his lips, "it would be best that I <i>should</i> keep away."</p> + +<p>Her half-closed eyes shone through their long lashes; the violets on her +breast rose and fell. "I don't think I understand," she said, in a tone +that was both hurt and offended.</p> + +<p>There is a pleasure in yielding to some temptations that more than +compensates for the pain of any previous resistance. Come what might, he +was not going to be misunderstood any longer.</p> + +<p>"If I must tell you," he said, "I've fallen desperately, hopelessly, in +love with you. Now you know the reason."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't seem a very good reason for wanting to go away and never see +me again. <i>Does</i> it?"</p> + +<p>"Not when I've no right to speak to you of love?"</p> + +<p>"But you've done that!"</p> + +<p>"I know," he said penitently; "I couldn't help it. But I never meant to. +It slipped out. I quite understand how hopeless it is."</p> + +<p>"Of course, if you are so sure as all that, you are quite right not to try."</p> + +<p>"Sylvia! You can't mean that—that you do care, after all?"</p> + +<p>"Didn't you really see?" she said, with a low, happy laugh. "How stupid +of you! And how dear!"</p> + +<p>He caught her hand, which she allowed to rest contentedly in his. "Oh, +Sylvia! Then you do—you do! But, my God, what a selfish brute I am! For +we can't marry. It may be years before I can ask you to come to me. You +father and mother wouldn't hear of your being engaged to me."</p> + +<p>"<i>Need</i> they hear of it just yet, Horace?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p><p>"Yes, they must. I should feel a cur if I didn't tell your mother, at +all events."</p> + +<p>"Then you shan't feel a cur, for we'll go and tell her together." And +Sylvia rose and went into the farther room, and put her arms round her +mother's neck. "Mother darling," she said, in a half whisper, "it's +really all your fault for writing such very long letters, but—but—we +don't exactly know how we came to do it—but Horace and I have got +engaged somehow. You aren't <i>very</i> angry, are you?"</p> + +<p>"I think you're both extremely foolish," said Mrs. Futvoye, as she +extricated herself from Sylvia's arms and turned to face Horace. "From +all I hear, Mr. Ventimore, you're not in a position to marry at present."</p> + +<p>"Unfortunately, no" said Horace; "I'm making nothing as yet. But my +chance must come some day. I don't ask you to give me Sylvia till then."</p> + +<p>"And you know you like Horace, mother!" pleaded Sylvia. "And I'm ready +to wait for him, any time. Nothing will induce me to give him up, and I +shall never, never care for anybody else. So you see you may just as +well give us your consent!"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I've been to blame," said Mrs. Futvoye. "I ought to have +foreseen this at St. Luc. Sylvia is our only child, Mr. Ventimore, and I +would far rather see her happily married than making what is called a +'grand match.' Still, this really does seem <i>rather</i> hopeless. I am +quite sure her father would never approve of it. Indeed, it must not be +mentioned to him—he would only be irritated."</p> + +<p>"So long as you are not against us," said Horace, "you won't forbid me +to see her?"</p> + +<p>"I believe I ought to," said Mrs. Futvoye; "but I don't object to your +coming here occasionally, as an ordinary visitor. Only understand +this—until you can prove to my husband's satisfaction that you are able +to support Sylvia in the manner she has been accustomed to, there must +be no formal <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>engagement. I think I am entitled to ask <i>that</i> of you."</p> + +<p>She was so clearly within her rights, and so much more indulgent than +Horace had expected—for he had always considered her an unsentimental +and rather worldly woman—that he accepted her conditions almost +gratefully. After all, it was enough for him that Sylvia returned his +love, and that he should be allowed to see her from time to time.</p> + +<p>"It's rather a pity," said Sylvia, meditatively, a little later, when +her mother had gone back to her letter-writing, and she and Horace were +discussing the future; "it's rather a pity that you didn't manage to get +<i>something</i> at that sale. It might have helped you with papa."</p> + +<p>"Well, I did get something on my own account," he said, "though I don't +know whether it is likely to do me any good with your father." And he +told her how he had come to acquire the brass bottle.</p> + +<p>"And you actually gave a guinea for it?" said Sylvia, "when you could +probably get exactly the same thing, only better, at Liberty's for about +seven-and-sixpence! Nothing of that sort has any charms for papa, unless +it's dirty and dingy and centuries old."</p> + +<p>"This looks all that. I only bought it because, though it wasn't down on +the catalogue, I had a fancy that it might interest the Professor."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" cried Sylvia, clasping her pretty hands, "if only it does, Horace! +If it turns out to be tremendously rare and valuable! I do believe dad +would be so delighted that he'd consent to anything. Ah, that's his step +outside ... he's letting himself in. Now mind you don't forget to tell +him about that bottle."</p> + +<p>The Professor did not seem in the sweetest of humours as he entered the +drawing-room. "Sorry I was obliged to be from home, and there was nobody +but my wife and daughter here to entertain you. But I am glad you +stayed—yes, I'm rather glad you stayed."</p> + +<p>"So am I, sir," said Horace, and proceeded to give his account of the +sale, which did not serve to improve<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> the Professor's temper. He thrust +out his under lip at certain items in the catalogue. "I wish I'd gone +myself," he said; "that bowl, a really fine example of sixteenth-century +Persian work, going for only five guineas! I'd willingly have given ten +for it. There, there, I thought I could have depended on you to use your +judgment better than that!"</p> + +<p>"If you remember, sir, you strictly limited me to the sums you marked."</p> + +<p>"Nothing of the sort," said the Professor, testily; "my marginal notes +were merely intended as indications, no more. You might have known that +if you had secured one of the things at any price I should have +approved."</p> + +<p>Horace had no grounds for knowing anything of the kind, and much reason +for believing the contrary, but he saw no use in arguing the matter +further, and merely said he was sorry to have misunderstood.</p> + +<p>"No doubt the fault was mine," said the Professor, in a tone that +implied the opposite. "Still, making every allowance for inexperience in +these matters, I should have thought it impossible for any one to spend +a whole day bidding at a place like Hammond's without even securing a +single article."</p> + +<p>"But, dad," put in Sylvia, "Mr. Ventimore did get <i>one</i> thing—on his +own account. It's a brass bottle, not down in the catalogue, but he +thinks it may be worth something perhaps. And he'd very much like to +have your opinion."</p> + +<p>"Tchah!" said the Professor. "Some modern bazaar work, most probably. +He'd better have kept his money. What was this bottle of yours like, now, eh?"</p> + +<p>Horace described it.</p> + +<p>"H'm. Seems to be what the Arabs call a 'kum-kum,' probably used as a +sprinkler, or to hold rose-water. Hundreds of 'em about," commented the +Professor, crustily.</p> + +<p>"It had a lid, riveted or soldered on," said Horace; "the general shape +was something like this ..." And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> he made a rapid sketch from memory, +which the Professor took reluctantly, and then adjusted his glasses with +some increase of interest.</p> + +<p>"Ha—the form is antique, certainly. And the top hermetically fastened, +eh? That looks as if it might contain something."</p> + +<p>"You don't think it has a genie inside, like the sealed jar the +fisherman found in the 'Arabian Nights'?" cried Sylvia. "What fun if it had!"</p> + +<p>"By genie, I presume you mean a <i>Jinnee</i>, which is the more correct and +scholarly term," said the Professor. "Female, <i>Jinneeyeh</i>, and plural +<i>Jinn</i>. No, I do <i>not</i> contemplate that as a probable contingency. But +it is not quite impossible that a vessel closed as Mr. Ventimore +describes may have been designed as a receptacle for papyri or other +records of archæological interest, which may be still in preservation. I +should recommend you, sir, to use the greatest precaution in removing +the lid—don't expose the documents, if any, too suddenly to the outer +air, and it would be better if you did not handle them yourself. I shall +be rather curious to hear whether it really does contain anything, and if so, what."</p> + +<p>"I will open it as carefully as possible," said Horace, "and whatever it +may contain, you may rely upon my letting you know at once."</p> + +<p>He left shortly afterwards, encouraged by the radiant trust in Sylvia's +eyes, and thrilled by the secret pressure of her hand at parting.</p> + +<p>He had been amply repaid for all the hours he had spent in the close +sale-room. His luck had turned at last: he was going to succeed; he felt +it in the air, as if he were already fanned by Fortune's pinions.</p> + +<p>Still thinking of Sylvia, he let himself into the semi-detached, +old-fashioned house on the north side of Vincent Square, where he had +lodged for some years. It was nearly twelve o'clock, and his landlady, +Mrs. Rapkin, and her husband had already gone to bed.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p><p>Ventimore went up to his sitting-room, a comfortable apartment with two +long windows opening on to a trellised verandah and balcony—a room +which, as he had furnished and decorated it himself to suit his own +tastes, had none of the depressing ugliness of typical lodgings.</p> + +<p>It was quite dark, for the season was too mild for a fire, and he had to +grope for the matches before he could light his lamp. After he had done +so and turned up the wicks, the first object he saw was the bulbous, +long-necked jar which he had bought that afternoon, and which now stood +on the stained boards near the mantelpiece. It had been delivered with +unusual promptitude!</p> + +<p>Somehow he felt a sort of repulsion at the sight of it. "It's a +beastlier-looking object than I thought," he said to himself +disgustedly. "A chimney-pot would be about as decorative and appropriate +in my room. What a thundering ass I was to waste a guinea on it! I +wonder if there really is anything inside it. It is so infernally ugly +that it <i>ought</i> to be useful. The Professor seemed to fancy it might +hold documents, and he ought to know. Anyway, I'll find out before I turn in."</p> + +<p>He grasped it by its long, thick neck, and tried to twist the cap off; +but it remained firm, which was not surprising, seeing that it was +thickly coated with a lava-like crust.</p> + +<p>"I must get some of that off first, and then try again," he decided; and +after foraging downstairs, he returned with a hammer and chisel, with +which he chipped away the crust till the line of the cap was revealed, +and an uncouth metal knob that seemed to be a catch.</p> + +<p>This he tapped sharply for some time, and again attempted to wrench off +the lid. Then he gripped the vessel between his knees and put forth all +his strength, while the bottle seemed to rock and heave under him in +sympathy. The cap was beginning to give way, very slightly; one last +wrench—and it came off in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> hand with such suddenness that he was +flung violently backwards, and hit the back of his head smartly against +an angle of the wainscot.</p> + +<p>He had a vague impression of the bottle lying on its side, with dense +volumes of hissing, black smoke pouring out of its mouth and towering up +in a gigantic column to the ceiling; he was conscious, too, of a pungent +and peculiarly overpowering perfume. "I've got hold of some sort of +infernal machine," he thought, "and I shall be all over the square in +less than a second!" And, just as he arrived at this cheerful +conclusion, he lost consciousness altogether.</p> + +<p>He could not have been unconscious for more than a few seconds, for when +he opened his eyes the room was still thick with smoke, through which he +dimly discerned the figure of a stranger, who seemed of abnormal and +almost colossal height. But this must have been an optical illusion +caused by the magnifying effects of the smoke; for, as it cleared, his +visitor proved to be of no more than ordinary stature. He was elderly, +and, indeed, venerable of appearance, and wore an Eastern robe and +head-dress of a dark-green hue. He stood there with uplifted hands, +uttering something in a loud tone and a language unknown to Horace.</p> + +<p>Ventimore, being still somewhat dazed, felt no surprise at seeing him. +Mrs. Rapkin must have let her second floor at last—to some Oriental. He +would have preferred an Englishman as a fellow-lodger, but this +foreigner must have noticed the smoke and rushed in to offer assistance, +which was both neighbourly and plucky of him.</p> + +<p>"Awfully good of you to come in, sir," he said, as he scrambled to his +feet. "I don't know what's happened exactly, but there's no harm done. +I'm only a trifle shaken, that's all. By the way, I suppose you can speak English?"</p> + +<p>"Assuredly I can speak so as to be understood by all whom I address," +answered the stranger.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p><p>"Dost thou not understand my speech?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly, now," said Horace. "But you made a remark just now which I +didn't follow—would you mind repeating it?"</p> + +<p>"I said: 'Repentance, O Prophet of God! I will not return to the like conduct ever.'"</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Horace. "I dare say you <i>were</i> rather startled. So was I when +I opened that bottle."</p> + +<p>"Tell me—was it indeed thy hand that removed the seal, O young man of +kindness and good works?"</p> + +<p>"I certainly did open it," said Ventimore, "though I don't know where +the kindness comes in—for I've no notion what was inside the thing."</p> + +<p>"I was inside it," said the stranger, calmly.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>AT LARGE</h3> + +<p>"So <i>you</i> were inside that bottle, were you?" said Horace, blandly. "How +singular!" He began to realise that he had to deal with an Oriental +lunatic, and must humour him to some extent. Fortunately he did not seem +at all dangerous, though undeniably eccentric-looking. His hair fell in +disorderly profusion from under his high turban about his cheeks, which +were of a uniform pale rhubarb tint; his grey beard streamed out in +three thin strands, and his long, narrow eyes, opal in hue, and set +rather wide apart and at a slight angle, had a curious expression, part +slyness and part childlike simplicity.</p> + +<p>"Dost thou doubt that I speak truth? I tell thee that I have been +confined in that accursed vessel for countless centuries—how long, I +know not, for it is beyond calculation."</p> + +<p>"I should hardly have thought from your appearance, sir, that you had +been so many years in bottle as all that," said Horace, politely, "but +it's certainly time you had a change. May I, if it isn't indiscreet, ask +how you came into such a very uncomfortable position? But probably you +have forgotten by this time."</p> + +<p>"Forgotten!" said the other, with a sombre red glow in his opal eyes. +"Wisely was it written: 'Let him that desireth oblivion confer +benefits—but the memory of an injury endureth for ever.' <i>I</i> forget +neither benefits nor injuries."</p> + +<p>"An old gentleman with a grievance," thought Ventimore. "And mad into +the bargain. Nice person to have staying in the same house with one!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p><p>"Know, O best of mankind," continued the stranger, "that he who now +addresses thee is Fakrash-el-Aamash, one of the Green Jinn. And I dwelt +in the Palace of the Mountain of the Clouds above the City of Babel in +the Garden of Irem, which thou doubtless knowest by repute?"</p> + +<p>"I fancy I <i>have</i> heard of it," said Horace, as if it were an address in +the Court Directory. "Delightful neighbourhood."</p> + +<p>"I had a kinswoman, Bedeea-el-Jemal, who possessed incomparable beauty +and manifold accomplishments. And seeing that, though a Jinneeyeh, she +was of the believing Jinn, I despatched messengers to Suleyman the +Great, the son of Daood, offering him her hand in marriage. But a +certain Jarjarees, the son of Rejmoos, the son of Iblees—may he be for +ever accursed!—looked with favour upon the maiden, and, going secretly +unto Suleyman, persuaded him that I was preparing a crafty snare for the King's undoing."</p> + +<p>"And, of course, <i>you</i> never thought of such a thing?" said Ventimore.</p> + +<p>"By a venomous tongue the fairest motives may be rendered foul," was the +somewhat evasive reply. "Thus it came to pass that Suleyman—on whom be +peace!—listened unto the voice of Jarjarees and refused to receive the +maiden. Moreover, he commanded that I should be seized and imprisoned in +a bottle of brass and cast into the Sea of El-Karkar, there to abide the Day of Doom."</p> + +<p>"Too bad—really too bad!" murmured Horace, in a tone that he could only +hope was sufficiently sympathetic.</p> + +<p>"But now, by thy means, O thou of noble ancestors and gentle +disposition, my deliverance hath been accomplished; and if I were to +serve thee for a thousand years, regarding nothing else, even thus could +I not requite thee, and my so doing would be a small thing according to thy desserts!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p><p>"Pray don't mention it," said Horace; "only too pleased if I've been of +any use to you."</p> + +<p>"In the sky it is written upon the pages of the air: 'He who doth kind +actions shall experience the like.' Am I not an Efreet of the Jinn? +Demand, therefore, and thou shalt receive."</p> + +<p>"Poor old chap!" thought Horace, "he's very cracked indeed. He'll be +wanting to give me a present of some sort soon—and of course I can't +have that.... My dear Mr. Fakrash," he said aloud, "I've done +nothing—nothing at all—and if I had, I couldn't possibly accept any +reward for it."</p> + +<p>"What are thy names, and what calling dost thou follow?"</p> + +<p>"I ought to have introduced myself before—let me give you my card;" and +Ventimore gave him one, which the other took and placed in his girdle. +"That's my business address. I'm an architect, if you know what that +is—a man who builds houses and churches—mosques, you know—in fact, +anything, when he can get it to build."</p> + +<p>"A useful calling indeed—and one to be rewarded with fine gold."</p> + +<p>"In my case," Horace confessed, "the reward has been too fine to be +perceived. In other words, I've never <i>been</i> rewarded, because I've +never yet had the luck to get a client."</p> + +<p>"And what is this client of whom thou speakest?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, some well-to-do merchant who wants a house built for him and +doesn't care how much he spends on it. There must be lots of them +about—but they never seem to come in <i>my</i> direction."</p> + +<p>"Grant me a period of delay, and, if it be possible, I will procure thee +such a client."</p> + +<p>Horace could not help thinking that any recommendation from such a +quarter would hardly carry much weight; but, as the poor old man +evidently imagined himself under an obligation, which he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> anxious to +discharge, it would have been unkind to throw cold water on his good intentions.</p> + +<p>"My dear sir," he said lightly, "if you <i>should</i> come across that +particular type of client, and can contrive to impress him with the +belief that I'm just the architect he's looking out for—which, between +ourselves, I am, though nobody's discovered it yet—if you can get him +to come to me, you will do me the very greatest service I could ever +hope for. But don't give yourself any trouble over it."</p> + +<p>"It will be one of the easiest things that can be," said his visitor, +"that is" (and here a shade of rather pathetic doubt crossed his face) +"provided that anything of my former power yet remains unto me."</p> + +<p>"Well, never mind, sir," said Horace; "if you can't, I shall take the +will for the deed."</p> + +<p>"First of all, it will be prudent to learn where Suleyman is, that I may +humble myself before him and make my peace."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Horace, gently, "I would. I should make a point of that, +sir. Not <i>now</i>, you know. He might be in bed. To-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>"This is a strange place that I am in, and I know not yet in what +direction I should seek him. But till I have found him, and justified +myself in his sight, and had my revenge upon Jarjarees, mine enemy, I +shall know no rest."</p> + +<p>"Well, but go to bed now, like a sensible old chap," said Horace, +soothingly, anxious to prevent this poor demented Asiatic from falling +into the hands of the police. "Plenty of time to go and call on Suleyman to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"I will search for him, even unto the uttermost ends of the earth!"</p> + +<p>"That's right—you're sure to find him in one of them. Only, don't you +see, it's no use starting to-night—the last trains have gone long ago." +As he spoke, the night wind bore across the square the sound of Big Ben<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +striking the quarters in Westminster Clock Tower, and then, after a +pause, the solemn boom that announced the first of the small hours. +"To-morrow," thought Ventimore, "I'll speak to Mrs. Rapkin, and get her +to send for a doctor and have him put under proper care—the poor old +boy really isn't fit to go about alone!"</p> + +<p>"I will start now—at once," insisted the stranger "for there is no time +to be lost."</p> + +<p>"Oh, come!" said Horace, "after so many thousand years, a few hours more +or less won't make any serious difference. And you <i>can't</i> go out +now—they've shut up the house. Do let me take you upstairs to your room, sir."</p> + +<p>"Not so, for I must leave thee for a season, O young man of kind +conduct. But may thy days be fortunate, and the gate never cease to be +repaired, and the nose of him that envieth thee be rubbed in the dust, +for love for thee hath entered into my heart, and if it be permitted +unto me, I will cover thee with the veils of my protection!"</p> + +<p>As he finished this harangue the speaker seemed, to Ventimore's +speechless amazement, to slip through the wall behind him. At all +events, he had left the room somehow—and Horace found himself alone.</p> + +<p>He rubbed the back of his head, which began to be painful. "He can't +really have vanished through the wall," he said to himself. "That's too +absurd. The fact is, I'm over-excited this evening—and no wonder, after +all that's happened. The best thing I can do is to go to bed at once."</p> + +<p>Which he accordingly proceeded to do.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>CARTE BLANCHE</h3> + +<p>When Ventimore woke next morning his headache had gone, and with it the +recollection of everything but the wondrous and delightful fact that +Sylvia loved him and had promised to be his some day. Her mother, too, +was on his side; why should he despair of anything after that? There was +the Professor, to be sure—but even he might be brought to consent to an +engagement, especially if it turned out that the brass bottle ... and +here Horace began to recall an extraordinary dream in connection with +that extremely speculative purchase of his. He had dreamed that he had +forced the bottle open, and that it proved to contain, not manuscripts, +but an elderly Jinnee who alleged that he had been imprisoned there by +the order of King Solomon!</p> + +<p>What, he wondered, could have put so grotesque a fancy into his head? +and then he smiled as he traced it to Sylvia's playful suggestion that +the bottle might contain a "genie," as did the famous jar in the +"Arabian Nights," and to her father's pedantic correction of the word to +"Jinnee." Upon that slight foundation his sleeping brain had built up +all that elaborate fabric—a scene so vivid and a story so +circumstantial and plausible that, in spite of its extravagance, he +could hardly even now persuade himself that it was entirely imaginary. +The psychology of dreams is a subject which has a fascinating mystery, +even for the least serious student.</p> + +<p>As he entered the sitting-room, where his breakfast awaited him, he +looked round, half expecting to find the bottle lying with its lid off +in the corner, as he had last seen it in his dream.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p><p>Of course, it was not there, and he felt an odd relief. The +auction-room people had not delivered it yet, and so much the better, +for he had still to ascertain if it had anything inside it; and who knew +that it might not contain something more to his advantage than a +maundering old Jinnee with a grievance several thousands of years old?</p> + +<p>Breakfast over, he rang for his landlady, who presently appeared. Mrs. +Rapkin was a superior type of her much-abused class. She was +scrupulously clean and neat in her person; her sandy hair was so smooth +and tightly knotted that it gave her head the colour and shape of a +Barcelona nut; she had sharp, beady eyes, nostrils that seemed to smell +battle afar off, a wide, thin mouth that apparently closed with a snap, +and a dry, whity-brown complexion suggestive of bran.</p> + +<p>But if somewhat grim of aspect, she was a good soul and devoted to +Horace, in whom she took almost a maternal interest, while regretting +that he was not what she called "serious-minded enough" to get on in the +world. Rapkin had wooed and married her when they were both in service, +and he still took occasional jobs as an outdoor butler, though Horace +suspected that his more staple form of industry was the consumption of +gin-and-water and remarkably full-flavoured cigars in the basement parlour.</p> + +<p>"Shall you be dining in this evening, sir?" inquired Mrs. Rapkin.</p> + +<p>"I don't know. Don't get anything in for me; I shall most probably dine +at the club," said Horace; and Mrs. Rapkin, who had a confirmed belief +that all clubs were hotbeds of vice and extravagance, sniffed +disapproval. "By the way," he added, "if a kind of brass pot is sent +here, it's all right. I bought it at a sale yesterday. Be careful how +you handle it—it's rather old."</p> + +<p>"There <i>was</i> a vawse come late last night, sir; I don't know if it's +that, it's old-fashioned enough."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p><p>"Then will you bring it up at once, please? I want to see it."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Rapkin retired, to reappear presently with the brass bottle. "I +thought you'd have noticed it when you come in last night, sir," she +explained, "for I stood it in the corner, and when I see it this morning +it was layin' o' one side and looking that dirty and disrespectable I +took it down to give it a good clean, which it wanted it."</p> + +<p>It certainly looked rather the better for it, and the marks or scratches +on the cap were more distinguishable, but Horace was somewhat +disconcerted to find that part of his dream was true—the bottle had +been there.</p> + +<p>"I hope I've done nothing wrong," said Mrs. Rapkin, observing his +expression; "I only used a little warm ale to it, which is a capital +thing for brass-work, and gave it a scrub with 'Vitrolia' soap—but it +would take more than that to get all the muck off of it."</p> + +<p>"It is all right, so long as you didn't try to get the top off," said Horace.</p> + +<p>"Why, the top <i>was</i> off it, sir. I thought you'd done it with the 'ammer +and chisel when you got 'ome," said his landlady, staring. "I found them +'ere on the carpet."</p> + +<p>Horace started. Then <i>that</i> part was true, too! "Oh, ah," he said, "I +believe I did. I'd forgotten. That reminds me. Haven't you let the room +above to—to an Oriental gentleman—a native, you know—wears a green +turban?"</p> + +<p>"That I most certainly 'ave <i>not</i>, Mr. Ventimore," said Mrs. Rapkin, +with emphasis, "nor wouldn't. Not if his turbin was all the colours of +the rainbow—for I don't 'old with such. Why, there was Rapkin's own +sister-in-law let her parlour floor to a Horiental—a Parsee <i>he</i> was, +or <i>one</i> o' them Hafrican tribes—and reason she 'ad to repent of it, +for all his gold spectacles! Whatever made you fancy I should let to a blackamoor?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p><p>"Oh, I thought I saw somebody about—er—answering that description, +and I wondered if——"</p> + +<p>"Never in <i>this</i> 'ouse, sir. Mrs. Steggars, next door but one, might let +to such, for all I can say to the contrary, not being what you might +call particular, and her rooms more suitable to savage notions—but I've +enough on <i>my</i> hands, Mr. Ventimore, attending to you—not keeping a +girl to do the waiting, as why should I while I'm well able to do it better myself?"</p> + +<p>As soon as she relieved him of her presence, he examined the bottle: +there was nothing whatever inside it, which disposed of all the hopes he +had entertained from that quarter.</p> + +<p>It was not difficult to account for the visionary Oriental as an +hallucination probably inspired by the heavy fumes (for he now believed +in the fumes) which had doubtless resulted from the rapid decomposition +of some long-buried spices or similar substances suddenly exposed to the air.</p> + +<p>If any further explanation were needed, the accidental blow to the back +of his head, together with the latent suggestion from the "Arabian +Nights," would amply provide it.</p> + +<p>So, having settled these points to his entire satisfaction, he went to +his office in Great Cloister Street, which he now had entirely to +himself, and was soon engaged in drafting the specification for Beevor +on which he had been working when so fortunately interrupted the day +before by the Professor.</p> + +<p>The work was more or less mechanical, and could bring him no credit and +little thanks, but Horace had the happy faculty of doing thoroughly +whatever he undertook, and as he sat there by his wide-open window he +soon became entirely oblivious of all but the task before him.</p> + +<p>So much so that, even when the light became obscured for a moment, as if +by some large and opaque body in passing, he did not look up +immediately, and, when he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> did, was surprised to find the only armchair +occupied by a portly person, who seemed to be trying to recover his breath.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," said Ventimore; "I never heard you come in."</p> + +<p>His visitor could only wave his head in courteous deprecation, under +which there seemed a suspicion of bewildered embarrassment. He was a +rosy-gilled, spotlessly clean, elderly gentleman, with white whiskers; +his eyes, just then slightly protuberant, were shrewd, but genial; he +had a wide, jolly mouth and a double chin. He was dressed like a man who +is above disguising his prosperity; he wore a large, pear-shaped pearl +in his crimson scarf, and had probably only lately discarded his summer +white hat and white waistcoat.</p> + +<p>"My dear sir," he began, in a rich, throaty voice, as soon as he could +speak; "my dear sir, you must think this is a most unceremonious way +of—ah!—dropping in on you—of invading your privacy."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said Horace, wondering whether he could possibly intend +him to understand that he had come in by the window. "I'm afraid there +was no one to show you in—my clerk is away just now."</p> + +<p>"No matter, sir, no matter. I found my way up, as you perceive. The +important, I may say the essential, fact is that I <i>am</i> here."</p> + +<p>"Quite so," said Horace, "and may I ask what brought you?"</p> + +<p>"What brought——" The stranger's eyes grew fish-like for the moment. +"Allow me, I—I shall come to that—in good time. I am still a +little—as you can see." He glanced round the room. "You are, I think, +an architect, Mr. ah—Mr. um——?"</p> + +<p>"Ventimore is my name," said Horace, "and I <i>am</i> an architect."</p> + +<p>"Ventimore, to be sure!" he put his hand in his pocket and produced a +card: "Yes, it's all quite correct:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> I see I have the name here. And an +architect, Mr. Ventimore, so I—I am given to understand, of immense ability."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I can't claim to be that," said Horace, "but I may call +myself fairly competent."</p> + +<p>"Competent? Why, of <i>course</i> you're competent. Do you suppose, sir, that +I, a practical business man, should come to any one who was <i>not</i> +competent?" he said, with exactly the air of a man trying to convince +himself—against his own judgment—that he was acting with the utmost prudence.</p> + +<p>"Am I to understand that some one has been good enough to recommend me +to you?" inquired Horace.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not, sir, certainly not. <i>I</i> need no recommendation but my +own judgment. I—ah—have a tolerable acquaintance with all that is +going on in the art world, and I have come to the conclusion, +Mr.—eh—ah—Ventimore, I repeat, the deliberate and unassisted +conclusion, that you are the one man living who can do what I want."</p> + +<p>"Delighted to hear it," said Horace, genuinely gratified. "When did you +see any of my designs?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind, sir. I don't decide without very good grounds. It doesn't +take me long to make up my mind, and when my mind is made up, I act, +sir, I act. And, to come to the point, I have a small +commission—unworthy, I am quite aware, of your—ah—distinguished +talent—which I should like to put in your hands."</p> + +<p>"Is <i>he</i> going to ask me to attend a sale for him?" thought Horace. "I'm +hanged if I do."</p> + +<p>"I'm rather busy at present," he said dubiously, "as you may see. I'm +not sure whether——"</p> + +<p>"I'll put the matter in a nutshell, sir—in a nutshell. My name is +Wackerbath, Samuel Wackerbath—tolerably well known, if I may say so, in +City circles." Horace, of course, concealed the fact that his visitor's +name and fame were unfamiliar to him. "I've lately bought a few acres on +the Hampshire border, near the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> house I'm living in just now; and I've +been thinking—as I was saying to a friend only just now, as we were +crossing Westminster Bridge—I've been thinking of building myself a +little place there, just a humble, unpretentious home, where I could run +down for the weekend and entertain a friend or two in a quiet way, and +perhaps live some part of the year. Hitherto I've rented places as I +wanted 'em—old family seats and ancestral mansions and so forth: very +nice in their way, but I want to feel under a roof of my own. I want to +surround myself with the simple comforts, the—ah—unassuming elegance +of an English country home. And you're the man—I feel more convinced of +it with every word you say—you're the man to do the job in +style—ah—to execute the work as it should be done."</p> + +<p>Here was the long-wished-for client at last! And it was satisfactory to +feel that he had arrived in the most ordinary and commonplace course, +for no one could look at Mr. Samuel Wackerbath and believe for a moment +that he was capable of floating through an upper window; he was not in +the least that kind of person.</p> + +<p>"I shall be happy to do my best," said Horace, with a calmness that +surprised himself. "Could you give me some idea of the amount you are +prepared to spend?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm no Crœsus—though I won't say I'm a pauper precisely—and, +as I remarked before, I prefer comfort to splendour. I don't think I +should be justified in going beyond—well, say sixty thousand."</p> + +<p>"Sixty thousand!" exclaimed Horace, who had expected about a tenth of +that sum. "Oh, not <i>more</i> than sixty thousand? I see."</p> + +<p>"I mean, on the house itself," explained Mr. Wackerbath; "there will be +outbuildings, lodges, cottages, and so forth, and then some of the rooms +I should want specially decorated. Altogether, before we are finished, +it may work out at about a hundred thousand. I take it that, with such a +margin, you could—ah—run me up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> something that in a modest way would +take the shine out of—I mean to say eclipse—anything in the adjoining counties?"</p> + +<p>"I certainly think," said Horace, "that for such a sum as that I can +undertake that you shall have a home which will satisfy you." And he +proceeded to put the usual questions as to site, soil, available +building materials, the accommodation that would be required, and so on.</p> + +<p>"You're young, sir," said Mr. Wackerbath, at the end of the interview, +"but I perceive you are up to all the tricks of the—I <i>should</i> say, +versed in the <i>minutiæ</i> of your profession. You would like to run down +and look at the ground, eh? Well, that's only reasonable; and my wife +and daughters will want to have <i>their</i> say in the matter—no getting on +without pleasing the ladies, hey? Now, let me see. To-morrow's Sunday. +Why not come down by the 8.45 a.m. to Lipsfield? I'll have a trap, or a +brougham and pair, or something, waiting for you—take you over the +ground myself, bring you back to lunch with us at Oriel Court, and talk +the whole thing thoroughly over. Then we'll send you up to town in the +evening, and you can start work the first thing on Monday. That suit +you? Very well, then. We'll expect you to-morrow."</p> + +<p>With this Mr. Wackerbath departed, leaving Horace, as may be imagined, +absolutely overwhelmed by the suddenness and completeness of his good +fortune. He was no longer one of the unemployed: he had work to do, and, +better still, work that would interest him, give him all the scope and +opportunity he could wish for. With a client who seemed tractable, and +to whom money was clearly no object, he might carry out some of his most +ambitious ideas.</p> + +<p>Moreover, he would now be in a position to speak to Sylvia's father +without fear of a repulse. His commission on £60,000 would be £3,000, +and that on the decorations and other work at least as much +again—probably more. In a year he could marry without<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> imprudence; in +two or three years he might be making a handsome income, for he felt +confident that, with such a start, he would soon have as much work as he +could undertake.</p> + +<p>He was ashamed of himself for ever having lost heart. What were the last +few years of weary waiting but probation and preparation for this +splendid chance, which had come just when he really needed it, and in +the most simple and natural manner?</p> + +<p>He loyally completed the work he had promised to do for Beevor, who +would have to dispense with his assistance in future, and then he felt +too excited and restless to stay in the office, and, after lunching at +his club as usual, he promised himself the pleasure of going to +Cottesmore Gardens and telling Sylvia his good news.</p> + +<p>It was still early, and he walked the whole way, as some vent for his +high spirits, enjoying everything with a new zest—the dappled grey and +salmon sky before him, the amber, russet, and yellow of the scanty +foliage in Kensington Gardens, the pungent scent of fallen chestnuts and +acorns and burning leaves, the blue-grey mist stealing between the +distant tree-trunks, and then the cheery bustle and brilliancy of the +High Street. Finally came the joy of finding Sylvia all alone, and +witnessing her frank delight at what he had come to tell her, of feeling +her hands on his shoulders, and holding her in his arms, as their lips +met for the first time. If on that Saturday afternoon there was a +happier man than Horace Ventimore, he would have done well to dissemble +his felicity, for fear of incurring the jealousy of the high gods.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Futvoye returned, as she did only too soon, to find her +daughter and Horace seated on the same sofa, she did not pretend to be +gratified. "This is taking a most unfair advantage of what I was weak +enough to say last night, Mr. Ventimore," she began. "I thought I could +have trusted you!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p><p>"I shouldn't have come so soon," he said, "if my position were what it +was only yesterday. But it's changed since then, and I venture to hope +that even the Professor won't object now to our being regularly +engaged." And he told her of the sudden alteration in his prospects.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mrs. Futvoye, "you had better speak to my husband about it."</p> + +<p>The Professor came in shortly afterwards, and Horace immediately +requested a few minutes' conversation with him in the study, which was +readily granted.</p> + +<p>The study to which the Professor led the way was built out at the back +of the house, and crowded with Oriental curios of every age and kind; +the furniture had been made by Cairene cabinet-makers, and along the +cornices of the book-cases were texts from the Koran, while every chair +bore the Arabic for "Welcome" in a gilded firework on its leather back; +the lamp was a perforated mosque lantern with long pendent glass tubes +like hyacinth glasses; a mummy-case smiled from a corner with laboured <i>bonhomie</i>.</p> + +<p>"Well," began the Professor, as soon as they were seated, "so I was not +mistaken—there was something in the brass bottle after all, then? Let's +have a look at it, whatever it is."</p> + +<p>For the moment Horace had almost forgotten the bottle. "Oh!" he said, +"I—I got it open; but there was nothing in it."</p> + +<p>"Just as I anticipated, sir," said the Professor. "I told you there +couldn't be anything in a bottle of that description; it was simply +throwing money away to buy it."</p> + +<p>"I dare say it was, but I wished to speak to you on a much more +important matter;" and Horace briefly explained his object.</p> + +<p>"Dear me," said the Professor, rubbing up his hair irritably, "dear me! +I'd no idea of this—no idea at all. I was under the impression that you +volunteered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> to act as escort to my wife and daughter at St. Luc purely +out of good nature to relieve me from what—to a man of my habits in +that extreme heat—would have been an arduous and distasteful duty."</p> + +<p>"I was not wholly unselfish, I admit," said Horace. "I fell in love with +your daughter, sir, the first day I met her—only I felt I had no right, +as a poor man with no prospects, to speak to her or you at that time."</p> + +<p>"A very creditable feeling—but I've yet to learn why you should have +overcome it."</p> + +<p>So, for the third time, Ventimore told the story of the sudden turn in +his fortunes.</p> + +<p>"I know this Mr. Samuel Wackerbath by name," said the Professor; "one of +the chief partners in the firm of Akers and Coverdale, the great estate +agents—a most influential man, if you can only succeed in satisfying him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't feel any misgivings about that, sir," said Horace. "I mean +to build him a house that will be beyond his wildest expectations, and +you see that in a year I shall have earned several thousands, and I need +not say that I will make any settlement you think proper when I +marry——"</p> + +<p>"When you are in possession of those thousands," remarked the Professor, +dryly, "it will be time enough to talk of marrying and making +settlements. Meanwhile, if you and Sylvia choose to consider yourselves +engaged, I won't object—only I must insist on having your promise that +you won't persuade her to marry you without her mother's and my consent."</p> + +<p>Ventimore gave this undertaking willingly enough, and they returned to +the drawing-room. Mrs. Futvoye could hardly avoid asking Horace, in his +new character of <i>fiancé</i>, to stay and dine, which it need not be said +he was only too delighted to do.</p> + +<p>"There is one thing, my dear—er—Horace," said the Professor, solemnly, +after dinner, when the neat parlourmaid had left them at dessert, "one +thing on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> which I think it my duty to caution you. If you are to justify +the confidence we have shown in sanctioning your engagement to Sylvia, +you must curb this propensity of yours to needless extravagance."</p> + +<p>"Papa!" cried Sylvia. "What <i>could</i> have made you think Horace extravagant?"</p> + +<p>"Really," said Horace, "I shouldn't have called myself particularly so."</p> + +<p>"Nobody ever <i>does</i> call himself particularly extravagant," retorted the +Professor; "but I observed at St. Luc that you habitually gave fifty +centimes as a <i>pourboire</i> when twopence, or even a penny, would have +been handsome. And no one with any regard for the value of money would +have given a guinea for a worthless brass vessel on the bare chance that +it might contain manuscripts, which (as any one could have foreseen) it did not."</p> + +<p>"But it's not a bad sort of bottle, sir," pleaded Horace. "If you +remember, you said yourself the shape was unusual. Why shouldn't it be +worth all the money, and more?"</p> + +<p>"To a collector, perhaps," said the Professor, with his wonted +amiability, "which you are not. No, I can only call it a senseless and +reprehensible waste of money."</p> + +<p>"Well, the truth is," said Horace, "I bought it with some idea that it +might interest <i>you</i>."</p> + +<p>"Then you were mistaken, sir. It does <i>not</i> interest me. Why should I be +interested in a metal jar which, for anything that appears to the +contrary, may have been cast the other day at Birmingham?"</p> + +<p>"But there <i>is</i> something," said Horace; "a seal or inscription of some +sort engraved on the cap. Didn't I mention it?"</p> + +<p>"You said nothing about an inscription before," replied the Professor, +with rather more interest. "What is the character—Arabic? Persian? Kufic?"</p> + +<p>"I really couldn't say—it's almost rubbed out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>—queer little triangular +marks, something like birds' footprints."</p> + +<p>"That sounds like Cuneiform," said the Professor, "which would seem to +point to a Phœnician origin. And, as I am acquainted with no Oriental +brass earlier than the ninth century of our era, I should regard your +description as, <i>à priori</i>, distinctly unlikely. However, I should +certainly like to have an opportunity of examining the bottle for myself +some day."</p> + +<p>"Whenever you please, Professor. When can you come?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I'm so much occupied all day that I can't say for certain when I +can get up to your office again."</p> + +<p>"My own days will be fairly full now," said Horace; "and the thing's not +at the office, but in my rooms at Vincent Square. Why shouldn't you all +come and dine quietly there some evening next week, and then you could +examine the inscription comfortably afterwards, you know, Professor, and +find out what it really is? Do say you will." He was eager to have the +privilege of entertaining Sylvia in his own rooms for the first time.</p> + +<p>"No, no," said the Professor; "I see no reason why you should be +troubled with the entire family. I may drop in alone some evening and +take the luck of the pot, sir."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, papa," put in Sylvia; "but <i>I</i> should like to come too, +please, and hear what you think of Horace's bottle. And I'm dying to see +his rooms. I believe they're fearfully luxurious."</p> + +<p>"I trust," observed her father, "that they are far indeed from answering +that description. If they did, I should consider it a most +unsatisfactory indication of Horace's character."</p> + +<p>"There's nothing magnificent about them, I assure you," said Horace. +"Though it's true I've had them done up, and all that sort of thing, at +my own expense—but quite simply. I couldn't afford to spend much on +them. But do come and see them. I must have a little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> dinner, to +celebrate my good fortune—it will be so jolly if you'll all three come."</p> + +<p>"If we do come," stipulated the Professor, "it must be on the distinct +understanding that you don't provide an elaborate banquet. Plain, +simple, wholesome food, well cooked, such as we have had this evening, +is all that is necessary. More would be ostentatious."</p> + +<p>"My <i>dear</i> dad!" protested Sylvia, in distress at this somewhat +dictatorial speech. "Surely you can leave all that to Horace!"</p> + +<p>"Horace, my dear, understands that, in speaking as I did, I was simply +treating him as a potential member of my family." Here Sylvia made a +private little grimace. "No young man who contemplates marrying should +allow himself to launch into extravagance on the strength of prospects +which, for all he can tell," said the Professor, genially, "may prove +fallacious. On the contrary, if his affection is sincere, he will incur +as little expense as possible, put by every penny he can save, rather +than subject the girl he professes to love to the ordeal of a long +engagement. In other words, the truest lover is the best economist."</p> + +<p>"I quite understand, sir," said Horace, good-temperedly; "it would be +foolish of me to attempt any ambitious form of entertainment—especially +as my landlady, though an excellent plain cook, is not exactly a <i>cordon +bleu</i>. So you can come to my modest board without misgivings."</p> + +<p>Before he left, a provisional date for the dinner was fixed for an +evening towards the end of the next week, and Horace walked home, +treading on air rather than hard paving-stones, and "striking the stars +with his uplifted head."</p> + +<p>The next day he went down to Lipsfield and made the acquaintance of the +whole Wackerbath family, who were all enthusiastic about the proposed +country house. The site was everything that the most exacting architect +could desire, and he came back to town the same evening,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> having spent a +pleasant day and learnt enough of his client's requirements, and—what +was even more important—those of his client's wife and daughters, to +enable him to begin work upon the sketch-plans the next morning.</p> + +<p>He had not been long in his rooms at Vincent Square, and was still +agreeably engaged in recalling the docility and ready appreciation with +which the Wackerbaths had received his suggestions and rough sketches, +their compliments and absolute confidence in his skill, when he had a +shock which was as disagreeable as it was certainly unexpected.</p> + +<p>For the wall before him parted like a film, and through it stepped, +smiling benignantly, the green-robed figure of Fakrash-el-Aamash, the Jinnee.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>EMBARRAS DE RICHESSES</h3> + +<p>Ventimore had so thoroughly convinced himself that the released Jinnee +was purely a creature of his own imagination, that he rubbed his eyes +with a start, hoping that they had deceived him.</p> + +<p>"Stroke thy head, O merciful and meritorious one," said his visitor, +"and recover thy faculties to receive good tidings. For it is indeed +I—Fakrash-el-Aamash—whom thou beholdest."</p> + +<p>"I—I'm delighted to see you," said Horace, as cordially as he could. +"Is there anything I can do for you?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, for hast thou not done me the greatest of all services by setting +me free? To escape out of a bottle is pleasant. And to thee I owe my deliverance."</p> + +<p>It was all true, then: he had really let an imprisoned Genius or Jinnee, +or whatever it was, out of that bottle! He knew he could not be dreaming +now—he only wished he were. However, since it was done, his best course +seemed to be to put a good face on it, and persuade this uncanny being +somehow to go away and leave him in peace for the future.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right, my dear sir," he said, "don't think any more +about it. I—I rather understood you to say that you were starting on a +journey in search of Solomon?"</p> + +<p>"I have been, and returned. For I visited sundry cities in his +dominions, hoping that by chance I might hear news of him, but I +refrained from asking directly lest thereby I should engender suspicion, +and so <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>Suleyman should learn of my escape before I could obtain an +audience of him and implore justice."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I shouldn't think that was likely," said Horace. "If I were you, I +should go straight back and go on travelling till I <i>did</i> find Suleyman."</p> + +<p>"Well was it said: 'Pass not any door without knocking, lest haply that +which thou seekest should be behind it.'"</p> + +<p>"Exactly," said Horace. "Do each city thoroughly, house by house, and +don't neglect the smallest clue. 'If at first you don't succeed, try, +try, try, again!' as one of our own poets teaches."</p> + +<p>"'Try, try, try again,'" echoed the Jinnee, with an admiration that was +almost fatuous. "Divinely gifted truly was he who composed such a verse!"</p> + +<p>"He has a great reputation as a sage," said Horace, "and the maxim is +considered one of his happiest efforts. Don't you think that, as the +East is rather thickly populated, the less time you lose in following +the poet's recommendation the better?"</p> + +<p>"It may be as thou sayest. But know this, O my son, that wheresoever I +may wander, I shall never cease to study how I may most fitly reward +thee for thy kindness towards me. For nobly it was said: 'If I be +possessed of wealth and be not liberal, may my head never be extended!'"</p> + +<p>"My good sir," said Horace, "do please understand that if you were to +offer me any reward for—for a very ordinary act of courtesy, I should +be obliged to decline it."</p> + +<p>"But didst thou not say that thou wast sorely in need of a client?"</p> + +<p>"That was so at the time," said Horace; "but since I last had the +pleasure of seeing you, I have met with one who is all I could possibly wish for."</p> + +<p>"I am indeed rejoiced to hear it," returned the Jinnee, "for thou +showest me that I have succeeded in performing the first service which +thou hast demanded of me."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p><p>Horace staggered under this severe blow to his pride; for the moment he +could only gasp: "You—<i>you</i> sent him to me?"</p> + +<p>"I, and no other," said the Jinnee, beaming with satisfaction; "for +while, unseen of men, I was circling in air, resolved to attend to thy +affair before beginning my search for Suleyman (on whom be peace!), it +chanced that I overheard a human being of prosperous appearance say +aloud upon a bridge that he desired to erect for himself a palace if he +could but find an architect. So, perceiving thee afar off seated at an +open casement, I immediately transported him to the place and delivered +him into thy hands."</p> + +<p>"But he knew my name—he had my card in his pocket," said Horace.</p> + +<p>"I furnished him with the paper containing thy names and abode, lest he +should be ignorant of them."</p> + +<p>"Well, look here, Mr. Fakrash," said the unfortunate Horace, "I know you +meant well—but <i>never</i> do a thing like that again! If my +brother-architects came to know of it I should be accused of most +unprofessional behaviour. I'd no idea you would take that way of +introducing a client to me, or I should have stopped it at once!"</p> + +<p>"It was an error," said Fakrash. "No matter. I will undo this affair, +and devise some other and better means of serving thee."</p> + +<p>"No, no," he said, "for Heaven's sake, leave things alone—you'll only +make them worse. Forgive me, my dear Mr. Fakrash, I'm afraid I must seem +most ungrateful; but—but I was so taken by surprise. And really, I am +extremely obliged to you. For, though the means you took were——were a +little irregular, you have done me a very great service."</p> + +<p>"It is naught," said the Jinnee, "compared to those I hope to render so +great a benefactor."</p> + +<p>"But, indeed, you mustn't think of trying to do any more for me," urged +Horace, who felt the absolute necessity of expelling any scheme of +further benevolence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> from the Jinnee's head once and for all. "You have +done enough. Why, thanks to you, I am engaged to build a palace that +will keep me hard at work and happy for ever so long."</p> + +<p>"Are human beings, then, so enamoured of hard labour?" asked Fakrash, in +wonder. "It is not thus with the Jinn."</p> + +<p>"I love my work for its own sake," said Horace, "and then, when I have +finished it, I shall have earned a very fair amount of money—which is +particularly important to me just now."</p> + +<p>"And why, my son, art thou so desirous of obtaining riches?"</p> + +<p>"Because," said Horace, "unless a man is tolerably well off in these +days he cannot hope to marry."</p> + +<p>Fakrash smiled with indulgent compassion. "How excellent is the saying +of one of old: 'He that adventureth upon matrimony is like unto one who +thrusteth his hand into a sack containing many thousands of serpents and +one eel. Yet, if Fate so decree, he <i>may</i> draw forth the eel.' And thou +art comely, and of an age when it is natural to desire the love of a +maiden. Therefore be of good heart and a cheerful eye, and it may be +that, when I am more at leisure, I shall find thee a helpmate who shall +rejoice thy soul."</p> + +<p>"Please don't trouble to find me anything of the sort!" said Horace, +hastily, with a mental vision of some helpless and scandalised stranger +being shot into his dwelling like coals. "I assure you I would much +rather win a wife for myself in the ordinary way—as, thanks to your +kindness, I have every hope of doing before long."</p> + +<p>"Is there already some damsel for whom thy heart pineth? If so, fear not +to tell me her names and dwelling place, and I will assuredly obtain her for thee."</p> + +<p>But Ventimore had seen enough of the Jinnee's Oriental methods to doubt +his tact and discretion where Sylvia was concerned. "No, no; of course +not.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> I spoke generally," he said. "It's exceedingly kind of you—but I +<i>do</i> wish I could make you understand that I am overpaid as it is. You +have put me in the way to make a name and fortune for myself. If I fail, +it will be my own fault. And, at all events, I want nothing more from +you. If you mean to find Suleyman (on whom be peace!) you must go and +live in the East altogether—for he certainly isn't over here; you must +give up your whole time to it, keep as quiet as possible, and don't be +discouraged by any reports you may hear. Above all, never trouble your +head about me or my affairs again!"</p> + +<p>"O thou of wisdom and eloquence," said Fakrash, "this is most excellent +advice. I will go, then; but may I drink the cup of perdition if I +become unmindful of thy benevolence!"</p> + +<p>And, raising his joined hands above his head as he spoke, he sank, feet +foremost, through the carpet and was gone.</p> + +<p>"Thank Heaven," thought Ventimore, "he's taken the hint at last. I don't +think I'm likely to see any more of him. I feel an ungrateful brute for +saying so, but I can't help it. I can <i>not</i> stand being under any +obligation to a Jinnee who's been shut up in a beastly brass bottle ever +since the days of Solomon, who probably had very good reasons for +putting him there."</p> + +<p>Horace next asked himself whether he was bound in honour to disclose the +facts to Mr. Wackerbath, and give him the opportunity of withdrawing +from the agreement if he thought fit.</p> + +<p>On the whole, he saw no necessity for telling him anything; the only +possible result would be to make his client suspect his sanity; and who +would care to employ an insane architect? Then, if he retired from the +undertaking without any explanations, what could he say to Sylvia? What +would Sylvia's father say to <i>him</i>? There would certainly be an end to his engagement.</p> + +<p>After all, he had not been to blame; the Wackerbaths<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> were quite +satisfied. He felt perfectly sure that he could justify their selection +of him; he would wrong nobody by accepting the commission, while he +would only offend them, injure himself irretrievably, and lose all hope +of gaining Sylvia if he made any attempt to undeceive them.</p> + +<p>And Fakrash was gone, never to return. So, on all these considerations, +Horace decided that silence was his only possible policy, and, though +some moralists may condemn his conduct as disingenuous and wanting in +true moral courage, I venture to doubt whether any reader, however +independent, straightforward, and indifferent to notoriety and ridicule, +would have behaved otherwise in Ventimore's extremely delicate and difficult position.</p> + +<p>Some days passed, every working hour of which was spent by Horace in the +rapture of creation. To every man with the soul of an artist in him +there comes at times—only too seldom in most cases—a revelation of +latent power that he had not dared to hope for. And now with Ventimore +years of study and theorising which he had often been tempted to think +wasted began to bear golden fruit. He designed and drew with a rapidity +and originality, a sense of perfect mastery of the various problems to +be dealt with, and a delight in the working out of mass and detail, so +intoxicating that he almost dreaded lest he should be the victim of some self-delusion.</p> + +<p>His evenings were of course spent with the Futvoyes, in discovering +Sylvia in some new and yet more adorable aspect. Altogether, he was very +much in love, very happy, and very busy—three states not invariably +found in combination.</p> + +<p>And, as he had foreseen, he had effectually got rid of Fakrash, who was +evidently too engrossed in the pursuit of Solomon to think of anything +else. And there seemed no reason why he should abandon his search for a +generation or two, for it would probably take all that time to convince +him that that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> mighty monarch was no longer on the throne.</p> + +<p>"It would have been too brutal to tell him myself," thought Horace, +"when he was so keen on having his case reheard. And it gives him an +object, poor old buffer, and keeps him from interfering in my affairs, +so it's best for both of us."</p> + +<p>Horace's little dinner-party had been twice postponed, till he had begun +to have a superstitious fear that it would never come off; but at length +the Professor had been induced to give an absolute promise for a certain evening.</p> + +<p>On the day before, after breakfast, Horace had summoned his landlady to +a consultation on the <i>menu</i>. "Nothing elaborate, you know, Mrs. +Rapkin," said Horace, who, though he would have liked to provide a feast +of all procurable delicacies for Sylvia's refection, was obliged to +respect her father's prejudices. "Just a simple dinner, thoroughly well +cooked, and nicely served—as you know so well how to do it."</p> + +<p>"I suppose, sir, you would require Rapkin to wait?"</p> + +<p>As the ex-butler was liable to trances on these occasions during which +he could do nothing but smile and bow with speechless politeness as he +dropped sauce-boats and plates, Horace replied that he thought of having +someone in to avoid troubling Mr. Rapkin; but his wife expressed such +confidence in her husband's proving equal to all emergencies, that +Ventimore waived the point, and left it to her to hire extra help if she thought fit.</p> + +<p>"Now, what soup can you give us?" he inquired, as Mrs. Rapkin stood at +attention and quite unmollified.</p> + +<p>After protracted mental conflict, she grudgingly suggested gravy +soup—which Horace thought too unenterprising, and rejected in favour of +mock turtle. "Well then, fish?" he continued; "how about fish?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Rapkin dragged the depths of her culinary resources for several +seconds, and finally brought to the surface what she called "a nice +fried sole." Horace<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> would not hear of it, and urged her to aspire to +salmon; she substituted smelts, which he opposed by a happy inspiration +of turbot and lobster sauce. The sauce, however, presented insuperable +difficulties to her mind, and she offered a compromise in the form of +cod—which he finally accepted as a fish which the Professor could +hardly censure for ostentation.</p> + +<p>Next came the no less difficult questions of <i>entrée</i> or no <i>entrée</i>, of +joint and bird. "What's in season just now?" said Horace; "let me +see"—and glanced out of the window as he spoke, as though in search of +some outside suggestion.... "Camels, by Jove!" he suddenly exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"<i>Camels</i>, Mr. Ventimore, sir?" repeated Mrs. Rapkin, in some +bewilderment; and then, remembering that he was given to untimely +flippancy, she gave a tolerant little cough.</p> + +<p>"I'll be shot if they <i>aren't</i> camels!" said Horace. "What do <i>you</i> make +of 'em, Mrs. Rapkin?"</p> + +<p>Out of the faint mist which hung over the farther end of the square +advanced a procession of tall, dust-coloured animals, with long, +delicately poised necks and a mincing gait. Even Mrs. Rapkin could not +succeed in making anything of them except camels.</p> + +<p>"What the deuce does a caravan of camels want in Vincent Square?" said +Horace, with a sudden qualm for which he could not account.</p> + +<p>"Most likely they belong to the Barnum Show, sir," suggested his +landlady. "I did hear they were coming to Olympia again this year."</p> + +<p>"Why, of course," cried Horace, intensely relieved. "It's on their way +from the Docks—at least, it isn't <i>out</i> of their way. Or probably the +main road's up for repairs. That's it—they'll turn off to the left at +the corner. See, they've got Arab drivers with them. Wonderful how the +fellows manage them."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me, sir," said Mrs. Rapkin, "that they're coming <i>our</i> +way—they seem to be stopping outside."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p><p>"Don't talk such infernal—— I beg your pardon, Mrs. Rapkin; but why +on earth should Barnum and Bailey's camels come out of their way to call +on <i>me</i>? It's ridiculous, you know!" said Horace, irritably.</p> + +<p>"Ridicklous it <i>may</i> be, sir," she retorted, "but they're all layin' +down on the road opposite our door, as you can see—and them niggers is +making signs to you to come out and speak to 'em."</p> + +<p>It was true enough. One by one the camels, which were apparently of the +purest breed, folded themselves up in a row like campstools at a sign +from their attendants, who were now making profound salaams towards the +window where Ventimore was standing.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I'd better go down and see what they want," he said, with +rather a sickly smile. "They may have lost the way to Olympia.... I only +hope Fakrash isn't at the bottom of this," he thought, as he went +downstairs. "But he'd come himself—at all events, he wouldn't send me a +message on such a lot of camels!" As he appeared on the doorstep, all +the drivers flopped down and rubbed their flat, black noses on the curbstone.</p> + +<p>"For Heaven's sake get up!" said Horace angrily. "This isn't +Hammersmith. Turn to the left, into the Vauxhall Bridge Road, and ask a +policeman the nearest way to Olympia."</p> + +<p>"Be not angry with thy slaves!" said the head driver, in excellent +English. "We are here by command of Fakrash-el-Aamash, our lord, whom we +are bound to obey. And we have brought thee these as gifts."</p> + +<p>"My compliments to your master," said Horace, between his teeth, "and +tell him that a London architect has no sort of occasion for camels. Say +that I am extremely obliged—but am compelled to decline them."</p> + +<p>"O highly born one," explained the driver, "the camels are not a +gift—but the loads which are upon the camels. Suffer us, therefore, +since we dare not disobey our lord's commands, to carry these trifling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +tokens of his good will into thy dwelling and depart in peace."</p> + +<p>Horace had not noticed till then that every camel bore a heavy burden, +which the attendants were now unloading. "Oh, if you <i>must</i>!" he said, +not too graciously; "only do look sharp about it—there's a crowd +collecting already, and I don't want to have a constable here."</p> + +<p>He returned to his rooms, where he found Mrs. Rapkin paralysed with +amazement. "It's—it's all right," he said; "I'd forgotten—it's only a +few Oriental things from the place where that brass bottle came from, +you know. They've left them here—on approval."</p> + +<p>"Seems funny their sending their goods 'ome on camels, sir, doesn't it?" +said Mrs. Rapkin.</p> + +<p>"Not at all funny!" said Horace; "they—they're an enterprising +firm—their way of advertising."</p> + +<p>One after another, a train of dusky attendants entered, each of whom +deposited his load on the floor with a guttural grunt and returned +backward, until the sitting-room was blocked with piles of sacks, and +bales, and chests, whereupon the head driver appeared and intimated that +the tale of gifts was complete.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what sort of tip this fellow expects," thought Horace; "a +sovereign seems shabby—but it's all I can run to. I'll try him with that."</p> + +<p>But the overseer repudiated all idea of a gratuity with stately dignity, +and as Horace saw him to the gate, he found a stolid constable by the railings.</p> + +<p>"This won't <i>do</i>, you know," said the constable; "these 'ere camels must +move on—or I shall 'ave to interfere."</p> + +<p>"It's all right, constable," said Horace, pressing into his hand the +sovereign the head driver had rejected; "they're going to move on now. +They've brought me a few presents from—from a friend of mine in the East."</p> + +<p>By this time the attendants had mounted the kneeling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> camels, which rose +with them, and swung off round the square in a long, swaying trot that +soon left the crowd far behind, staring blankly after the caravan as +camel after camel disappeared into the haze.</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't mind knowin' that friend o' yours, sir," said the +constable; "open-hearted sort o' gentleman, I should think?"</p> + +<p>"Very!" said Horace, savagely, and returned to his room, which Mrs. +Rapkin had now left.</p> + +<p>His hands shook, though not with joy, as he untied some of the sacks and +bales and forced open the outlandish-looking chests, the contents of +which almost took away his breath.</p> + +<p>For in the bales were carpets and tissues which he saw at a glance must +be of fabulous antiquity and beyond all price; the sacks held golden +ewers and vessels of strange workmanship and pantomimic proportions; the +chests were full of jewels—ropes of creamy-pink pearls as large as +average onions, strings of uncut rubies and emeralds, the smallest of +which would have been a tight fit in an ordinary collar-box, and +diamonds, roughly facetted and polished, each the size of a coconut, in +whose hearts quivered a liquid and prismatic radiance.</p> + +<p>On the most moderate computation, the total value of these gifts could +hardly be less than several hundred millions; never probably in the +world's history had any treasury contained so rich a store.</p> + +<p>It would have been difficult for anybody, on suddenly finding himself +the possessor of this immense incalculable wealth, to make any comment +quite worthy of the situation, but, surely, none could have been more +inadequate and indeed inappropriate than Horace's—which, heartfelt as +it was, was couched in the simple monosyllable—"Damn!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>"GRATITUDE—A LIVELY SENSE OF FAVOURS TO COME"</h3> + +<p>Most men on suddenly finding themselves in possession of such enormous +wealth would have felt some elation. Ventimore, as we have seen, was +merely exasperated. And, although this attitude of his may strike the +reader as incomprehensible or absolutely wrong-headed, he had more +reason on his side than might appear at a first view.</p> + +<p>It was undoubtedly the fact that, with the money these treasures +represented, he would be in a position to convulse the money markets of +Europe and America, bring society to his feet, make and unmake +kingdoms—dominate, in short, the entire world.</p> + +<p>"But, then," as Horace told himself with a groan, "it wouldn't amuse me +in the least to convulse money markets. Do I want to see the smartest +people in London grovelling for anything they think they're likely to +get out of me? As I should be perfectly well aware that their homage was +not paid to any personal merit of mine, I could hardly consider it +flattering. And why should I make kingdoms? The only thing I understand +and care about is making houses. Then, am I likely to be a better hand +at dominating the world than all the others who have tried the +experiment? I doubt it."</p> + +<p>He called to mind all the millionaires he had ever read or heard of; +they didn't seem to get much fun out of their riches. The majority of +them were martyrs to dyspepsia. They were often weighed down by the +cares and responsibilities of their position; the only people who were +unable to obtain an audience of them at any time were their friends; +they lived in a glare of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> publicity, and every post brought them +hundreds of begging letters, and a few threats; their children were in +constant danger from kidnappers, and they themselves, after knowing no +rest in life, could not be certain that even their tombs would be +undisturbed. Whether they were extravagant or thrifty, they were equally +maligned, and, whatever the fortune they left behind them, they could be +absolutely certain that, in a couple of generations, it would be entirely dissipated.</p> + +<p>"And the biggest millionaire living," concluded Horace, "is a pauper +compared with me!"</p> + +<p>But there was another consideration—how was he to realise all this +wealth? He knew enough about precious stones to be aware that a ruby, +for instance, of the true "pigeon's blood" colour and the size of a +melon, as most of these rubies were, would be worth, even when cut, +considerably over a million; but who would buy it?</p> + +<p>"I think I see myself," he reflected grimly, "calling on some diamond +merchant in Hatton Garden with half a dozen assorted jewels in a +Gladstone bag. If he believed they were genuine, he'd probably have a +fit; but most likely he'd think I'd invented some dodge for +manufacturing them, and had been fool enough to overdo the size. Anyhow, +he'd want to know how they came into my possession, and what could I +say? That they were part of a little present made to me by a Jinnee in +grateful acknowledgment of my having relieved him from a brass bottle in +which he'd been shut up for nearly three thousand years? Look at it how +you will, it's <i>not</i> convincing. I fancy I can guess what he'd say. And +what an ass I should look! Then suppose the thing got into the papers?"</p> + +<p>Got into the papers? Why, of course it would get into the papers. As if +it were possible in these days for a young and hitherto unemployed +architect suddenly to surround himself with wondrous carpets, and gold +vessels, and gigantic jewels without attracting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> the notice of some +enterprising journalist. He would be interviewed; the story of his +curiously acquired riches would go the round of the papers; he would +find himself the object of incredulity, suspicion, ridicule. In +imagination he could already see the headlines on the news-sheets:</p> + +<p class="tbrk"> </p> + +<p class="center tbrk">BOTTLED BILLIONS<br /><br />AMAZING ARABESQUES BY AN ARCHITECT<br /> +<br />HE SAYS THE JAR CONTAINED A JINNEE<br /><br />SENSATIONAL STORY<br /> +<br />DIVERTING DETAILS</p> + +<p>And so on, through every phrase of alliterative ingenuity. He ground his +teeth at the mere thought of it. Then Sylvia would come to hear of it, +and what would <i>she</i> think? She would naturally be repelled, as any +nice-minded girl would be, by the idea that her lover was in secret +alliance with a supernatural being. And her father and mother—would +they allow her to marry a man, however rich, whose wealth came from such +a questionable source? No one would believe that he had not made some +unholy bargain before consenting to set this incarcerated spirit +free—he, who had acted in absolute ignorance, who had persistently +declined all reward after realising what he had done!</p> + +<p>No, it was too much. Try as he might to do justice to the Jinnee's +gratitude and generosity, he could not restrain a bitter resentment at +the utter want of consideration shown in overloading him with gifts so +useless and so compromising. No Jinnee—however old, however unfamiliar +with the world as it is now—had any right to be such a fool!</p> + +<p>And at this, above the ramparts of sacks and bales, which occupied all +the available space in the room, appeared Mrs. Rapkin's face.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p><p>"I was going to ask you, sir, before them parcels came," she began, +with a dry cough of disapproval, "what you would like in the way of +ongtray to-morrow night. I thought if I could find a sweetbread at all +reasonable——"</p> + +<p>To Horace—surrounded as he was by incalculable riches—sweetbreads +seemed incongruous just then; the transition of thought was too violent.</p> + +<p>"I can't bother about that now, Mrs. Rapkin," he said; "we'll settle it +to-morrow. I'm too busy."</p> + +<p>"I suppose most of these things will have to go back, sir, if they're +only sent on approval like?"</p> + +<p>If he only knew where and how he could send them back! "I—I'm not +sure," he said; "I may have to keep them."</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, bargain or none, I wouldn't have 'em as a gift myself, being +so dirty and fusty; they can't be no use to anybody, not to mention +there being no room to move with them blocking up all the place. I'd +better tell Rapkin to carry 'em all upstairs out of people's way."</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," said Horace, sharply, by no means anxious for the +Rapkins to discover the real nature of his treasures. "Don't touch them, +either of you. Leave them exactly as they are, do you understand?"</p> + +<p>"As you please, Mr. Ventimore, sir; only, if they're not to be +interfered with, I don't see myself how you're going to set your friends +down to dinner to-morrow, that's all."</p> + +<p>And, indeed, considering that the table and every available chair, and +even the floor, were heaped so high with valuables that Horace himself +could only just squeeze his way between the piles, it seemed as if his +guests might find themselves inconveniently cramped.</p> + +<p>"It will be all right," he said, with an optimism he was very far from +feeling; "we'll manage somehow—leave it to me."</p> + +<p>Before he left for his office he took the precaution<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> to baffle any +inquisitiveness on the part of his landlady by locking his sitting-room +door and carrying away the key, but it was in a very different mood from +his former light-hearted confidence that he sat down to his +drawing-board in Great Cloister Street that morning. He could not +concentrate his mind; his enthusiasm and his ideas had alike deserted him.</p> + +<p>He flung down the dividers he had been using and pushed away the nest of +saucers of Indian ink and colours in a fit of petulance. "It's no good," +he exclaimed aloud; "I feel a perfect duffer this morning. I couldn't +even design a decent dog-kennel!"</p> + +<p>Even as he spoke he became conscious of a presence in the room, and, +looking round, saw Fakrash the Jinnee standing at his elbow, smiling +down on him more benevolently than ever, and with a serene expectation +of being warmly welcomed and thanked, which made Horace rather ashamed +of his own inability to meet it.</p> + +<p>"He's a thoroughly good-natured old chap," he thought, +self-reproachfully. "He means well, and I'm a beast not to feel more +glad to see him. And yet, hang it all! I can't have him popping in and +out of the office like a rabbit whenever the fancy takes him!"</p> + +<p>"Peace be upon thee," said Fakrash. "Moderate the trouble of thy heart, +and impart thy difficulties to me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, they're nothing, thanks," said Horace, feeling decidedly +embarrassed. "I got stuck over my work for the moment, and it worried me +a little—that's all."</p> + +<p>"Then thou hast not yet received the gifts which I commanded should be +delivered at thy dwelling-place?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed I have!" replied Horace; "and—and I really don't know how +to thank you for them."</p> + +<p>"A few trifling presents," answered the Jinnee, "and by no means suited +to thy dignity—yet the best in my power to bestow upon thee for the time being."</p> + +<p>"My dear sir, they simply overwhelm me with their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> magnificence! They're +beyond all price, and—and I've no idea what to do with such a superabundance."</p> + +<p>"A superfluity of good things is good," was the Jinnee's sententious reply.</p> + +<p>"Not in my particular case. I—I quite feel your goodness and +generosity; but, indeed, as I told you before, it's really impossible +for me to accept any such reward."</p> + +<p>Fakrash's brows contracted slightly. "How sayest thou that it is +impossible—seeing that these things are already in thy possession?"</p> + +<p>"I know," said Horace; "but—you won't be offended if I speak quite plainly?"</p> + +<p>"Art thou not even as a son to me, and can I be angered at any words of thine?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Horace, with sudden hope, "honestly, then, I would very +much rather—if you're sure you don't mind—that you would take them all +back again."</p> + +<p>"What? Dost thou demand that I, Fakrash-el-Aamash, should consent to +receive back the gifts I have bestowed? Are they, then, of so little +value in thy sight?"</p> + +<p>"They're of too much value. If I took such a reward for—for a very +ordinary service, I should never be able to respect myself again."</p> + +<p>"This is not the reasoning of an intelligent person," said the Jinnee, coldly.</p> + +<p>"If you think me a fool, I can't help it. I'm not an ungrateful fool, at +all events. But I feel very strongly that I can't keep these gifts of yours."</p> + +<p>"So thou wouldst have me break the oath which I swore to reward thee +fitly for thy kind action?"</p> + +<p>"But you <i>have</i> rewarded me already," said Horace, "by contriving that a +wealthy merchant should engage me to build him a residence. And—forgive +my plain speaking—if you truly desire my happiness (as I am sure you +do) you will relieve me of all these precious gems and merchandise, +because, to be frank, they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> will <i>not</i> make me happy. On the contrary, +they are making me extremely uncomfortable."</p> + +<p>"In the days of old," said Fakrash, "all men pursued wealth; nor could +any amass enough to satisfy his desires. Have riches, then, become so +contemptible in mortal eyes that thou findest them but an encumbrance? +Explain the matter."</p> + +<p>Horace felt a natural delicacy in giving his real reasons. "I can't +answer for other men," he said. "All I know is that I've never been +accustomed to being rich, and I'd rather get used to it gradually, and +be able to feel that I owed it, as far as possible, to my own exertions. +For, as I needn't tell <i>you</i>, Mr. Fakrash, riches alone don't make any +fellow happy. You must have observed that they're apt to—well, to land +him in all kinds of messes and worries.... I'm talking like a confounded +copybook," he thought, "but I don't care how priggish I am if I can only get my way!"</p> + +<p>Fakrash was deeply impressed. "O young man of marvellous moderation!" he +cried. "Thy sentiments are not inferior to those of the Great Suleyman +himself (on whom be peace!). Yet even he doth not utterly despise them, +for he hath gold and ivory and precious stones in abundance. Nor +hitherto have I ever met a human being capable of rejecting them when +offered. But, since thou seemest sincere in holding that my poor and +paltry gifts will not advance thy welfare, and since I would do thee +good and not evil—be it even as thou wouldst. For excellently was it +said: 'The worth of a present depends not on itself, nor on the giver, +but on the receiver alone.'"</p> + +<p>Horace could hardly believe that he had really prevailed. "It's +extremely good of you, sir," he said, "to take it so well. And if you +<i>could</i> let that caravan call for them as soon as possible, it would be +a great convenience to me. I mean—er—the fact is, I'm expecting a few +friends to dine with me to-morrow, and, as my rooms are rather small at +the best of times, I don't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> quite know how I can manage to entertain +them at all unless something is done."</p> + +<p>"It will be the easiest of actions," replied Fakrash; "therefore, have +no fear that, when the time cometh, thou wilt not be able to entertain +thy friends in a fitting manner. And for the caravan, it shall set out without delay."</p> + +<p>"By Jove, though, I'd forgotten one thing," said Horace: "I've locked up +the room where your presents are—they won't be able to get in without the key."</p> + +<p>"Against the servants of the Jinn neither bolts nor bars can prevail. +They shall enter therein and remove all that they brought thee, since it +is thy desire."</p> + +<p>"Very many thanks," said Horace. "And you do <i>really</i> understand that +I'm every bit as grateful as if I could keep the things? You see, I want +all my time and all my energies to complete the designs for this +building, which," he added gracefully, "I should never be in a position +to do at all, but for your assistance."</p> + +<p>"On my arrival," said Fakrash, "I heard thee lamenting the difficulties +of the task; wherein do they consist?"</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Horace, "it's a little difficult to please all the different +people concerned, and myself too. I want to make something of it that I +shall be proud of, and that will give me a reputation. It's a large +house, and there will be a good deal of work in it; but I shall manage +it all right."</p> + +<p>"This is a great undertaking indeed," remarked the Jinnee, after he had +asked various by no means unintelligent questions and received the +answers. "But be persuaded that it shall all turn out most fortunately +and thou shalt obtain great renown. And now," he concluded, "I am +compelled to take leave of thee, for I am still without any certain +tidings of Suleyman."</p> + +<p>"You mustn't let me keep you," said Horace, who had been on thorns for +some minutes lest Beevor should return and find him with his mysterious +visitor. "You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> see," he added instructively, "so long as you <i>will</i> +neglect your own much more important affairs to look after mine, you can +hardly expect to make <i>much</i> progress, can you?"</p> + +<p>"How excellent is the saying," replied the Jinnee: "'The time which is +spent in doing kindnesses, call it not wasted.'"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's very good," said Horace, feeling driven to silence this +maxim, if possible, with one of his own invention. "But <i>we</i> have a +saying too—how does it go? Ah, I remember. 'It is possible for a +kindness to be more inconvenient than an injury.'"</p> + +<p>"Marvellously gifted was he who discovered such a saying!" cried Fakrash.</p> + +<p>"I imagine," said Horace, "he learnt it from his own experience. By the +way, what place were you thinking of drawing—I mean trying—next for Suleyman?"</p> + +<p>"I purpose to repair to Nineveh, and inquire there."</p> + +<p>"Capital," said Ventimore, with hearty approval, for he hoped that this +would take the Jinnee some little time. "Wonderful city, Nineveh, from +all I've heard—though not quite what it used to be, perhaps. Then +there's Babylon—you might go on there. And if you shouldn't hear of him +there, why not strike down into Central Africa, and do that thoroughly? +Or South America; it's a pity to lose any chance—you've never been to +South America yet?"</p> + +<p>"I have not so much as heard of such a country, and how should Suleyman be there?"</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, I didn't say he <i>was</i> there. All I meant to convey was, that +he's quite as likely to be there as anywhere else. But if you're going +to Nineveh first, you'd better lose no more time, for I've always +understood that it's rather an awkward place to get at—though probably +<i>you</i> won't find it very difficult."</p> + +<p>"I care not," said Fakrash, "though the search be long, for in travel +there are five advantages——"</p> + +<p>"I know," interrupted Horace, "so don't stop to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> describe them now. I +should like to see you fairly started, and you really mustn't think it +necessary to break off your search again on my account, because, thanks +to you, I shall get on splendidly alone for the future—if you'll kindly +see that that merchandise is removed."</p> + +<p>"Thine abode shall not be encumbered with it for another hour," said the +Jinnee. "O thou judicious one, in whose estimation wealth is of no +value, know that I have never encountered a mortal who pleased me as +thou hast; and moreover, be assured that such magnanimity as thine shall +not go without a recompense!"</p> + +<p>"How often must I tell you," said Horace, in a glow of impatience, "that +I am already much more than recompensed? Now, my kind, generous old +friend," he added, with an emotion that was not wholly insincere, "the +time has come to bid you farewell—for ever. Let me picture you as +revisiting your former haunts, penetrating to quarters of the globe +(for, whether you are aware of it or not, this earth of ours <i>is</i> a +globe) hitherto unknown to you, refreshing your mind by foreign travel +and the study of mankind—but never, never for a moment losing sight of +your main object, the eventual discovery of and reconciliation with +Suleyman (on whom be peace!). That is the greatest, the only happiness +you can give me now. Good-bye, and <i>bon voyage</i>!"</p> + +<p>"May Allah never deprive thy friends of thy presence!" returned the +Jinnee, who was apparently touched by this exordium, "for truly thou art +a most excellent young man!"</p> + +<p>And stepping back into the fireplace, he was gone in an instant.</p> + +<p>Ventimore sank back in his chair with a sigh of relief. He had begun to +fear that the Jinnee never would take himself off, but he had gone at +last—and for good.</p> + +<p>He was half ashamed of himself for feeling so glad,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> for Fakrash was a +good-natured old thing enough in his way. Only he <i>would</i> overdo things: +he had no sense of proportion. "Why," thought Horace, "if a fellow +expressed a modest wish for a canary in a cage he's just the sort of old +Jinnee to bring him a whole covey of rocs in an aviary about ten times +the size of the Crystal Palace. However, he <i>does</i> understand now that I +can't take anything more from him, and he isn't offended either, so +<i>that's</i> all settled. Now I can set to work and knock off these plans in +peace and quietness."</p> + +<p>But he had not done much before he heard sounds in the next room which +told him that Beevor had returned at last. He had been expected back +from the country for the last day or two, and it was fortunate that he +had delayed so long, thought Ventimore, as he went in to see him and to +tell him the unexpected piece of good fortune that he himself had met +with since they last met. It is needless to say that, in giving his +account, he abstained from any mention of the brass bottle or the +Jinnee, as unessential elements in his story.</p> + +<p>Beevor's congratulations were quite as cordial as could be expected, as +soon as he fully understood that no hoax was intended. "Well, old man," +he said, "I <i>am</i> glad. I really am, you know. To think of a prize like +that coming to you the very first time! And you don't even know how this +Mr. Wackerbath came to hear of you—just happened to see your name up +outside and came in, I expect. Why, I dare say, if I hadn't chanced to +go away as I did—and about a couple of paltry two thousand pound +houses, too! Ah, well, I don't grudge you your luck, though it <i>does</i> +seem rather—— It was worth waiting for; you'll be cutting <i>me</i> out +before long—if you don't make a mess of this job. I mean, you know, old +chap, if you don't go and give your City man a Gothic castle when what +he wants is something with plenty of plate-glass windows and a +Corinthian portico. That's the rock I see ahead of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> <i>you</i>. You mustn't +mind my giving you a word of warning!"</p> + +<p>"Oh no," said Ventimore; "but I shan't give him either a Gothic castle +or plenty of plate-glass. I venture to think he'll be pleased with the +general idea as I'm working it out."</p> + +<p>"Let's hope so," said Beevor. "If you get into any difficulty, you +know," he added, with a touch of patronage, "just you come to me."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said Horace, "I will. But I'm getting on very fairly at present."</p> + +<p>"I should rather like to see what you've made of it. I might be able to +give you a wrinkle here and there."</p> + +<p>"It's awfully good of you, but I think I'd rather you didn't see the +plans till they're quite finished," said Horace. The truth was that he +was perfectly aware that the other would not be in sympathy with his +ideas; and Horace, who had just been suffering from a cold fit of +depression about his work, rather shrank from any kind of criticism.</p> + +<p>"Oh, just as you please!" said Beevor, a little stiffly; "you always +<i>were</i> an obstinate beggar. I've had a certain amount of experience, you +know, in my poor little pottering way, and I thought I might possibly +have saved you a cropper or two. But if you think you can manage better +alone—only don't get bolted with by one of those architectural hobbies +of yours, that's all."</p> + +<p>"All right, old fellow. I'll ride my hobby on the curb," said Horace, +laughing, as he went back to his own office, where he found that all his +former certainty and enjoyment of his work had returned to him, and by +the end of the day he had made so much progress that his designs needed +only a few finishing touches to be complete enough for his client's inspection.</p> + +<p>Better still, on returning to his rooms that evening to change before +going to Kensington, he found that the admirable Fakrash had kept his +promise<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>—every chest, sack, and bale had been cleared away.</p> + +<p>"Them camels come back for the things this afternoon, sir," said Mrs. +Rapkin, "and it put me in a fluster at first, for I made sure you'd +locked your door and took the key. But I must have been +mistook—leastways, them Arabs got in somehow. I hope you meant +everything to go back?"</p> + +<p>"Quite," said Horace; "I saw the—the person who sent them this morning, +and told him there was nothing I cared for enough to keep."</p> + +<p>"And like his impidence sending you a lot o' rubbish like that on +approval—and on camels, too!" declared Mrs. Rapkin. "I'm sure I don't +know what them advertising firms will try next—pushing, <i>I</i> call it."</p> + +<p>Now that everything was gone, Horace felt a little natural regret and +doubt whether he need have been quite so uncompromising in his refusal +of the treasures. "I might have kept some of those tissues and things +for Sylvia," he thought; "and she loves pearls. And a prayer-carpet +would have pleased the Professor tremendously. But no, after all, it +wouldn't have done. Sylvia couldn't go about in pearls the size of new +potatoes, and the Professor would only have ragged me for more reckless +extravagance. Besides, if I'd taken any of the Jinnee's gifts, he might +keep on pouring more in, till I should be just where I was before—or +worse off, really, because I couldn't decently refuse them, then. So +it's best as it is."</p> + +<p>And really, considering his temperament and the peculiar nature of his +position, it is not easy to see how he could have arrived at any other conclusion.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>BACHELOR'S QUARTERS</h3> + +<p>Horace was feeling particularly happy as he walked back the next evening +to Vincent Square. He had the consciousness of having done a good day's +work, for the sketch-plans for Mr. Wackerbath's mansion were actually +completed and despatched to his business address, while Ventimore now +felt a comfortable assurance that his designs would more than satisfy his client.</p> + +<p>But it was not that which made him so light of heart. That night his +rooms were to be honoured for the first time by Sylvia's presence. She +would tread upon his carpet, sit in his chairs, comment upon, and +perhaps even handle, his books and ornaments—and all of them would +retain something of her charm for ever after. If she only came! For even +now he could not quite believe that she really would; that some untoward +event would not make a point of happening to prevent her, as he +sometimes doubted whether his engagement was not too sweet and wonderful +to be true—or, at all events, to last.</p> + +<p>As to the dinner, his mind was tolerably easy, for he had settled the +remaining details of the <i>menu</i> with his landlady that morning, and he +could hope that without being so sumptuous as to excite the Professor's +wrath, it would still be not altogether unworthy—and what goods could +be rare and dainty enough?—to be set before Sylvia.</p> + +<p>He would have liked to provide champagne, but he knew that wine would +savour of ostentation in the Professor's judgment, so he had contented +himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> instead with claret, a sound vintage which he knew he could +depend upon. Flowers, he thought, were clearly permissible, and he had +called at a florist's on his way and got some chrysanthemums of palest +yellow and deepest terra-cotta, the finest he could see. Some of them +would look well on the centre of the table in an old Nankin +blue-and-white bowl he had; the rest he could arrange about the room: +there would just be time to see to all that before dressing.</p> + +<p>Occupied with these thoughts, he turned into Vincent Square, which +looked vaster than ever with the murky haze, enclosed by its high +railings, and under a wide expanse of steel-blue sky, across which the +clouds were driving fast like ships in full sail scudding for harbour +before a storm. Against the mist below, the young and nearly leafless +trees showed flat, black profiles as of pressed seaweed, and the sky +immediately above the house-tops was tinged with a sullen red from miles +of lighted streets; from the river came the long-drawn tooting of tugs, +mingled with the more distant wail and hysterical shrieks of railway +engines on the Lambeth lines.</p> + +<p>And now he reached the old semi-detached house in which he lodged, and +noticed for the first time how the trellis-work of the veranda made, +with the bared creepers and hanging baskets, a kind of decorative +pattern against the windows, which were suffused with a roseate glow +that looked warm and comfortable and hospitable. He wondered whether +Sylvia would notice it when she arrived.</p> + +<p>He passed under the old wrought-iron arch that once held an oil-lamp, +and up a short but rather steep flight of steps, which led to a brick +porch built out at the side. Then he let himself in, and stood +spellbound with perplexed amazement,—for he was in a strange house.</p> + +<p>In place of the modest passage with the yellow marble wall-paper, the +mahogany hat-stand, and the elderly barometer in a state of chronic +depression which he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> knew so well, he found an arched octagonal +entrance-hall with arabesques of blue, crimson, and gold, and +richly-embroidered hangings; the floor was marble, and from a shallow +basin of alabaster in the centre a perfumed fountain rose and fell with a lulling patter.</p> + +<p>"I must have mistaken the number," he thought, quite forgetting that his +latch-key had fitted, and he was just about to retreat before his +intrusion was discovered, when the hangings parted, and Mrs. Rapkin +presented herself, making so deplorably incongruous a figure in such +surroundings, and looking so bewildered and woebegone, that Horace, in +spite of his own increasing uneasiness, had some difficulty in keeping his gravity.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Ventimore, sir," she lamented; "whatever <i>will</i> you go and do +next, I wonder? To think of your going and having the whole place done +up and altered out of knowledge like this, without a word of warning! If +any halterations were required, I <i>do</i> think as me and Rapkin had the +right to be consulted."</p> + +<p>Horace let all his chrysanthemums drop unheeded into the fountain. He +understood now: indeed, he seemed in some way to have understood almost +from the first, only he would not admit it even to himself.</p> + +<p>The irrepressible Jinnee was at the bottom of this, of course. He +remembered now having made that unfortunate remark the day before about +the limited accommodation his rooms afforded.</p> + +<p>Clearly Fakrash must have taken a mental note of it, and, with that +insatiable munificence which was one of his worst failings, had +determined, by way of a pleasant surprise, to entirely refurnish and +redecorate the apartments according to his own ideas.</p> + +<p>It was extremely kind of him; it showed a truly grateful +disposition—"but, oh!" as Horace thought, in the bitterness of his +soul, "if he would only learn to let well alone and mind his own business!"</p> + +<p>However, the thing was done now, and he must accept<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> the responsibility +for it, since he could hardly disclose the truth. "Didn't I mention I +was having some alterations made?" he said carelessly. "They've got the +work done rather sooner than I expected. Were—were they long over it?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I can't tell you, sir, having stepped out to get some things I +wanted in for to-night; and Rapkin, he was round the corner at his +reading-room; and when I come back it was all done and the workmen gone +'ome; and how they could have finished such a job in the time beats me +altogether, for when we 'ad the men in to do the back kitchen they took +ten days over it."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Horace, evading this point, "however they've done this, +they've done it remarkably well—you'll admit that, Mrs. Rapkin?"</p> + +<p>"That's as may be sir," said Mrs. Rapkin, with a sniff, "but it ain't +<i>my</i> taste, nor yet I don't think it will be Rapkin's taste when he +comes to see it."</p> + +<p>It was not Ventimore's taste either, though he was not going to confess +it. "Sorry for that, Mrs. Rapkin," he said, "but I've no time to talk +about it now. I must rush upstairs and dress."</p> + +<p>"Begging your pardon, sir, but that's a total unpossibility—for they've +been and took away the staircase.'</p> + +<p>"Taken away the staircase? Nonsense!" cried Horace.</p> + +<p>"So <i>I</i> think, Mr. Ventimore—but it's what them men have done, and if +you don't believe me, come and see for yourself!"</p> + +<p>She drew the hangings aside, and revealed to Ventimore's astonished gaze +a vast pillared hall with a lofty domed roof, from which hung several +lamps, diffusing a subdued radiance. High up in the wall, on his left, +were the two windows which he judged to have formerly belonged to his +sitting-room (for either from delicacy or inability, or simply because +it had not occurred to him, the Jinnee had not interfered with the +external<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> structure), but the windows were now masked by a perforated +and gilded lattice, which accounted for the pattern Horace had noticed +from without. The walls were covered with blue-and-white Oriental tiles, +and a raised platform of alabaster on which were divans ran round two +sides of the hall, while the side opposite to him was pierced with +horseshoe-shaped arches, apparently leading to other apartments. The +centre of the marble floor was spread with costly rugs and piles of +cushions, their rich hues glowing through the gold with which they were +intricately embroidered.</p> + +<p>"Well," said the unhappy Horace, scarcely knowing what he was saying, +"it—it all looks very <i>cosy</i>, Mrs. Rapkin."</p> + +<p>"It's not for me to say, sir; but I should like to know where you +thought of dining?"</p> + +<p>"Where?" said Horace. "Why, here, of course. There's plenty of room."</p> + +<p>"There isn't a table left in the house," said Mrs. Rapkin; "so, unless +you'd wish the cloth laid on the floor——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, there must be a table somewhere," said Horace, impatiently, "or you +can borrow one. Don't <i>make</i> difficulties, Mrs. Rapkin. Rig up anything +you like.... Now I must be off and dress."</p> + +<p>He got rid of her, and, on entering one of the archways, discovered a +smaller room, in cedar-wood encrusted with ivory and mother-o'-pearl, +which was evidently his bedroom. A gorgeous robe, stiff with gold and +glittering with ancient gems, was laid out for him—for the Jinnee had +thought of everything—but Ventimore, naturally, preferred his own +evening clothes.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Rapkin!" he shouted, going to another arch that seemed to +communicate with the basement.</p> + +<p>"Sir?" replied his landlord, who had just returned from his +"reading-room," and now appeared, without a tie and in his +shirt-sleeves, looking pale and wild, as was, perhaps, intelligible in +the circumstances. As he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> entered his unfamiliar marble halls he +staggered, and his red eyes rolled and his mouth gaped in a cod-like +fashion. "They've been at it 'ere, too, seemin'ly," he remarked huskily.</p> + +<p>"There have been a few changes," said Horace, quietly, "as you can see. +You don't happen to know where they've put my dress-clothes, do you?"</p> + +<p>"I don't 'appen to know where they've put nothink. Your dress clothes? +Why, I dunno where they've bin and put our little parler where me and +Maria 'ave set of a hevenin' all these years regular. I dunno where +they've put the pantry, nor yet the bath-room, with 'ot and cold water +laid on at my own expense. And you arsk me to find your hevenin' soot! I +consider, sir, I consider that a unwall—that a most unwarrant-terrible +liberty have bin took at my expense."</p> + +<p>"My good man, don't talk rubbish!" said Horace.</p> + +<p>"I'm talking to you about what <i>I know</i>, and I assert that an +Englishman's 'ome is his cashle, and nobody's got the right when his +backsh turned to go and make a 'Ummums of it. Not <i>nobody</i> 'asn't!"</p> + +<p>"Make a <i>what</i> of it?" cried Ventimore.</p> + +<p>"A 'Ummums—that's English, ain't it? A bloomin' Turkish baths! Who do +you suppose is goin' to take apartments furnished in this 'ere +ridic'loush style? What am I goin' to say to my landlord? It'll about +ruing me, this will; and after you bein' a lodger 'ere for five year and +more, and regarded by me and Maria in the light of one of the family. +It's 'ard—it's damned 'ard!"</p> + +<p>"Now, look here," said Ventimore, sharply—for it was obvious that Mr. +Rapkin's studies had been lightened by copious refreshment—"pull +yourself together, man, and listen to me."</p> + +<p>"I respeckfully decline to pull myshelf togerrer f'r anybody livin'," +said Mr. Rapkin, with a noble air. "I shtan' 'ere upon my dignity as a +man, sir. I shay, I shtand 'ere upon——" Here he waved his hand, and +sat down suddenly upon the marble floor.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p><p>"You can stand on anything you like—or can," said Horace; "but hear +what I've got to say. The—the people who made all these alterations +went beyond my instructions. I never wanted the house interfered with +like this. Still, if your landlord doesn't see that its value is +immensely improved, he's a fool, that's all. Anyway, I'll take care +<i>you</i> shan't suffer. If I have to put everything back in its former +state, I will, at my own expense. So don't bother any more about <i>that</i>."</p> + +<p>"You're a gen'l'man, Mr. Ventimore," said Rapkin, cautiously regaining +his feet. "There's no mishtaking a gen'l'man. <i>I'm</i> a gen'l'man."</p> + +<p>"Of course you are," said Horace genially, "and I'll tell you how you're +going to show it. You're going straight downstairs to get your good wife +to pour some cold water over your head; and then you will finish +dressing, see what you can do to get a table of some sort and lay it for +dinner, and be ready to announce my friends when they arrive, and wait +afterwards. Do you see?"</p> + +<p>"That will be all ri', Mr. Ventimore," said Rapkin, who was not far gone +enough to be beyond understanding or obeying. "You leave it entirely to +me. I'll unnertake that your friends shall be made comforrable, perfelly +comforrable. I've lived as butler in the besht, the mosht ecxlu—most +arishto—you know the sort o' fam'lies I'm tryin' to r'member—and—and +everything was always all ri', and <i>I</i> shall be all ri' in a few minutes."</p> + +<p>With this assurance he stumbled downstairs, leaving Horace relieved to +some extent. Rapkin would be sober enough after his head had been under +the tap for a few minutes, and in any case there would be the hired +waiter to rely upon.</p> + +<p>If he could only find out where his evening clothes were! He returned to +his room and made another frantic search—but they were nowhere to be +found; and as he could not bring himself to receive his guests<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> in his +ordinary morning costume—which the Professor would probably construe as +a deliberate slight, and which would certainly seem a solecism in Mrs. +Futvoye's eyes, if not in her daughter's—he decided to put on the +Eastern robes, with the exception of a turban, which he could not manage +to wind round his head.</p> + +<p>Thus arrayed he re-entered the domed hall, where he was annoyed to find +that no attempt had been made as yet to prepare a dinner-table, and he +was just looking forlornly round for a bell when Rapkin appeared. He had +apparently followed Horace's advice, for his hair looked wet and sleek, +and he was comparatively sober.</p> + +<p>"This is too bad!" cried Horace; "my friends may be here at any moment +now—and nothing done. You don't propose to wait at table like that, do +you?" he added, as he noted the man's overcoat and the comforter round his throat.</p> + +<p>"I do not propose to wait in any garments whatsoever," said Rapkin; "I'm +a-goin' out, I am."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Horace; "then send the waiter up—I suppose he's come?"</p> + +<p>"He come—but he went away again—I told him as he wouldn't be required."</p> + +<p>"You told him that!" Horace said angrily, and then controlled himself. +"Come, Rapkin, be reasonable. You can't really mean to leave your wife +to cook the dinner, and serve it too!"</p> + +<p>"She ain't intending to do neither; she've left the house already."</p> + +<p>"You must fetch her back," cried Horace. "Good heavens, man, <i>can't</i> you +see what a fix you're leaving me in? My friends have started long +ago—it's too late to wire to them, or make any other arrangements."</p> + +<p>There was a knock, as he spoke, at the front door; and odd enough was +the familiar sound of the cast-iron knocker in that Arabian hall.</p> + +<p>"There they are!" he said, and the idea of meeting them at the door and +proposing an instant adjournment<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> to a restaurant occurred to him—till +he suddenly recollected that he would have to change and try to find +some money, even for that. "For the last time, Rapkin," he cried in +despair, "do you mean to tell me there's no dinner ready?"</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Rapkin, "there's dinner right enough, and a lot o' barbarious +furriners downstairs a cookin' of it—that's what broke Maria's 'art—to +see it all took out of her 'ands, after the trouble she'd gone to."</p> + +<p>"But I must have somebody to wait," exclaimed Horace.</p> + +<p>"You've got waiters enough, as far as that goes. But if you expect a +hordinary Christian man to wait along of a lot o' narsty niggers, and be +at their beck and call, you're mistook, sir, for I'm going to sleep the +night at my brother-in-law's and take his advice, he bein' a doorkeeper +at a solicitor's orfice and knowing the law, about this 'ere business, +and so I wish you a good hevening, and 'oping your dinner will be to +your liking and satisfaction."</p> + +<p>He went out by the farther archway, while from the entrance-hall Horace +could hear voices he knew only too well. The Futvoyes had come; well, at +all events, it seemed that there would be something for them to eat, +since Fakrash, in his anxiety to do the thing thoroughly, had furnished +both the feast and attendance himself—but who was there to announce the +guests? Where were these waiters Rapkin had spoken of? Ought he to go +and bring in his visitors himself?</p> + +<p>These questions answered themselves the next instant, for, as he stood +there under the dome, the curtains of the central arch were drawn with a +rattle, and disclosed a double line of tall slaves in rich raiment, +their onyx eyes rolling and their teeth flashing in their chocolate-hued +countenances, as they salaamed.</p> + +<p>Between this double line stood Professor and Mrs. Futvoye and Sylvia, +who had just removed their wraps and were gazing in undisguised +astonishment on the splendours which met their view.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p><p>Horace advanced to receive them; he felt he was in for it now, and the +only course left him was to put as good a face as he could on the +matter, and trust to luck to pull him through without discovery or disaster.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>"PERSICOS ODI, PUER, APPARATUS"</h3> + +<p>"So you've found your way here at last?" said Horace, as he shook hands +heartily with the Professor and Mrs. Futvoye. "I can't tell you how +delighted I am to see you."</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, he was very far from being at ease, which made him +rather over-effusive, but he was determined that, if he could help it, +he would not betray the slightest consciousness of anything <i>bizarre</i> or +unusual in his domestic arrangements.</p> + +<p>"And these," said Mrs. Futvoye, who was extremely stately in black, +with old lace and steel embroidery—"these are the bachelor lodgings you +were so modest about! Really," she added, with a humorous twinkle in her +shrewd eyes, "you young men seem to understand how to make yourselves +comfortable—don't they, Anthony?"</p> + +<p>"They do, indeed," said the Professor, dryly, though it manifestly cost +him some effort to conceal his appreciation. "To produce such results as +these must, if I mistake not, have entailed infinite research—and +considerable expense."</p> + +<p>"No," said Horace, "no. You—you'd be surprised if you knew how little."</p> + +<p>"I should have imagined," retorted the Professor, "that <i>any</i> outlay on +apartments which I presume you do not contemplate occupying for an +extended period must be money thrown away. But, doubtless, you know best."</p> + +<p>"But your rooms are quite wonderful, Horace!" cried Sylvia, her charming +eyes dilating with admiration. "And where, <i>where</i> did you get that +magnificent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> dressing-gown? I never saw anything so lovely in my life!"</p> + +<p>She herself was lovely enough in a billowy, shimmering frock of a +delicate apple-green hue, her only ornament a deep-blue Egyptian scarab +with spread wings, which was suspended from her neck by a slender gold chain.</p> + +<p>"I—I ought to apologise for receiving you in this costume," said +Horace, with embarrassment; "but the fact is, I couldn't find my evening +clothes anywhere, so—so I put on the first things that came to hand."</p> + +<p>"It is hardly necessary," said the Professor, conscious of being +correctly clad, and unconscious that his shirt-front was bulging and his +long-eared white tie beginning to work up towards his left jaw—"hardly +necessary to offer any apology for the simplicity of your costume—which +is entirely in keeping with the—ah—strictly Oriental character of your interior."</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> feel dreadfully out of keeping!" said Sylvia, "for there's nothing +in the least Oriental about <i>me</i>—unless it's my scarab—and he's I +don't know how many centuries behind the time, poor dear!"</p> + +<p>"If you said 'thousands of years,' my dear," corrected the Professor, +"you would be more accurate. That scarab was taken out of a tomb of the +thirteenth dynasty."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm sure he'd rather be where he is," said Sylvia, and Ventimore +entirely agreed with her. "Horace, I <i>must</i> look at everything. How +clever and original of you to transform an ordinary London house into this!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, you see," explained Horace, "it—it wasn't exactly done by me."</p> + +<p>"Whoever did it," said the Professor, "must have devoted considerable +study to Eastern art and architecture. May I ask the name of the firm +who executed the alterations?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p><p>"I really couldn't tell you, sir," answered Horace, who was beginning +to understand how very bad a <i>mauvais quart d'heure</i> can be.</p> + +<p>"You can't tell me!" exclaimed the Professor. "You order these +extensive, and <i>I</i> should say expensive, decorations, and you don't know +the firm you selected to carry them out!"</p> + +<p>"Of course I <i>know</i>," said Horace, "only I don't happen to remember at +this moment. Let me see, now. Was it Liberty? No, I'm almost certain it +wasn't Liberty. It might have been Maple, but I'm not sure. Whoever did +do it, they were marvellously cheap."</p> + +<p>"I am glad to hear it," said the Professor, in his most unpleasant tone. +"Where is your dining-room?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I rather think," said Horace, helplessly, as he saw a train of +attendants laying a round cloth on the floor, "I rather think <i>this</i> is +the dining-room."</p> + +<p>"You appear to be in some doubt?" said the Professor.</p> + +<p>"I leave it to them—it depends where they choose to lay the cloth," +said Horace. "Sometimes in one place; sometimes in another. There's a +great charm in uncertainty," he faltered.</p> + +<p>"Doubtless," said the Professor.</p> + +<p>By this time two of the slaves, under the direction of a tall and +turbaned black, had set a low ebony stool, inlaid with silver and +tortoiseshell in strange devices, on the round carpet, when other +attendants followed with a circular silver tray containing covered +dishes, which they placed on the stool and salaamed.</p> + +<p>"Your—ah—groom of the chambers," said the Professor, "seems to have +decided that we should dine here. I observe they are making signs to you +that the food is on the table."</p> + +<p>"So it is," said Ventimore. "Shall we sit down?"</p> + +<p>"But, my dear Horace," said Mrs. Futvoye, "your butler has forgotten the chairs."</p> + +<p>"You don't appear to realise, my dear," said the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> Professor, "that in +such an interior as this chairs would be hopelessly incongruous."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid there aren't any," said Horace, for there was nothing but +four fat cushions. "Let's sit down on these," he proposed. "It—it's more fun!"</p> + +<p>"At my time of life," said the Professor, irritably, as he let himself +down on the plumpest cushion, "such fun as may be derived from eating +one's meals on the floor fails to appeal to my sense of humour. However, +I admit that it is thoroughly Oriental."</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> think it's delightful," said Sylvia; "ever so much nicer than a +stiff, conventional dinner-party."</p> + +<p>"One may be unconventional," remarked her father, "without escaping the +penalty of stiffness. Go away, sir! go away!" he added snappishly, to +one of the slaves, who was attempting to pour water over his hands. +"Your servant, Ventimore, appears to imagine that I go out to dinner +without taking the trouble to wash my hands previously. This, I may +mention, is <i>not</i> the case."</p> + +<p>"It's only an Eastern ceremony, Professor," said Horace.</p> + +<p>"I am perfectly well aware of what is customary in the East," retorted +the Professor; "it does not follow that such—ah—hygienic precautions +are either necessary or desirable at a Western table."</p> + +<p>Horace made no reply; he was too much occupied in gazing blankly at the +silver dish-covers and wondering what in the world might be underneath; +nor was his perplexity relieved when the covers were removed, for he was +quite at a loss to guess how he was supposed to help the contents +without so much as a fork.</p> + +<p>The chief attendant, however, solved that difficulty by intimating in +pantomime that the guests were expected to use their fingers.</p> + +<p>Sylvia accomplished this daintily and with intense amusement, but her +father and mother made no secret of their repugnance. "If I were dining +in the desert<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> with a Sheik, sir," observed the Professor, "I should, I +hope, know how to conform to his habits and prejudices. Here, in the +heart of London, I confess all this strikes me as a piece of needless pedantry."</p> + +<p>"I'm very sorry," said Horace; "I'd have some knives and forks if I +could—but I'm afraid these fellows don't even understand what they are, +so it's useless to order any. We—we must rough it a little, that's all. +I hope that—er—fish is all right, Professor?"</p> + +<p>He did not know precisely what kind of fish it was, but it was fried in +oil of sesame and flavoured with a mixture of cinnamon and ginger, and +the Professor did not appear to be making much progress with it. +Ventimore himself would have infinitely preferred the original cod and +oyster sauce, but that could not be helped now.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said the Professor, "it is curious—but characteristic. Not +<i>any</i> more, thank you."</p> + +<p>Horace could only trust that the next course would be more of a success. +It was a dish of mutton, stewed with peaches, jujubes and sugar, which +Sylvia declared was delicious. Her parents made no comment.</p> + +<p>"Might I ask for something to drink?" said the Professor, presently; +whereupon a cupbearer poured him a goblet of iced sherbet perfumed with +conserve of violets.</p> + +<p>"I'm very sorry, my dear fellow," he said, after sipping it, "but if I +drink this I shall be ill all next day. If I might have a glass of +wine——"</p> + +<p>Another slave instantly handed him a cup of wine, which he tasted and +set down with a wry face and a shudder. Horace tried some afterwards, +and was not surprised. It was a strong, harsh wine, in which goatskin +and resin struggled for predominance.</p> + +<p>"It's an old and, I make no doubt, a fine wine," observed the Professor, +with studied politeness, "but I fancy it must have suffered in +transportation. I really think that, with my gouty tendency, a little +whisky<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> and Apollinaris would be better for me—if you keep such +occidental fluids in the house?"</p> + +<p>Horace felt convinced that it would be useless to order the slaves to +bring whisky or Apollinaris, which were of course, unknown in the +Jinnee's time, so he could do nothing but apologise for their absence.</p> + +<p>"No matter," said the Professor; "I am not so thirsty that I cannot wait +till I get home."</p> + +<p>It was some consolation that both Sylvia and her mother commended the +sherbet, and even appreciated—or were so obliging as to say they +appreciated—the <i>entrée</i>, which consisted of rice and mincemeat wrapped +in vine-leaves, and certainly was not appetising in appearance, besides +being difficult to dispose of gracefully.</p> + +<p>It was followed by a whole lamb fried in oil, stuffed with pounded +pistachio nuts, pepper, nutmeg, and coriander seeds, and liberally +besprinkled with rose-water and musk.</p> + +<p>Only Horace had sufficient courage to attack the lamb—and he found +reason to regret it. Afterwards came fowls stuffed with raisins, +parsley, and crumbled bread, and the banquet ended with pastry of weird +forms and repellent aspect.</p> + +<p>"I hope," said Horace, anxiously, "you don't find this Eastern cookery +very—er—unpalatable?"—he himself was feeling distinctly unwell: "it's +rather a change from the ordinary routine."</p> + +<p>"I have made a truly wonderful dinner, thank you," replied the +Professor, not, it is to be feared, without intention. "Even in the East +I have eaten nothing approaching this."</p> + +<p>"But where did your landlady pick up this extraordinary cooking, my dear +Horace?" said Mrs. Futvoye. "I thought you said she was merely a plain +cook. Has she ever lived in the East?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly <i>in</i> the East," exclaimed Horace; "not what you would call +<i>living</i> there. The fact is," he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>continued, feeling that he was in +danger of drivelling, and that he had better be as candid as he could, +"this dinner <i>wasn't</i> cooked by her. She—she was obliged to go away +quite suddenly. So the dinner was all sent in by—by a sort of +contractor, you know. He supplies the whole thing, waiters and all."</p> + +<p>"I was thinking," said the Professor, "that for a bachelor—an <i>engaged</i> +bachelor—you seemed to maintain rather a large establishment."</p> + +<p>"Oh, they're only here for the evening, sir," said Horace. "Capital +fellows—more picturesque than the local greengrocer—and they don't +breathe on the top of your head."</p> + +<p>"They're perfect dears, Horace," remarked Sylvia; "only—well, just a +<i>little</i> creepy-crawly to look at!"</p> + +<p>"It would ill become me to criticise the style and method of our +entertainment," put in the Professor, acidly, "otherwise I might be +tempted to observe that it scarcely showed that regard for economy which +I should have——"</p> + +<p>"Now, Anthony," put in his wife, "don't let us have any fault-finding. +I'm sure Horace has done it all delightfully—yes, delightfully; and +even if he <i>has</i> been just a little extravagant, it's not as if he was +obliged to be as economical <i>now</i>, you know!"</p> + +<p>"My dear," said the Professor, "I have yet to learn that the prospect of +an increased income in the remote future is any justification for +reckless profusion in the present."</p> + +<p>"If you only knew," said Horace, "you wouldn't call it profusion. +It—it's not at all the dinner I meant it to be, and I'm afraid it +wasn't particularly nice—but it's certainly not expensive."</p> + +<p>"Expensive is, of course, a very relative term. But I think I have the +right to ask whether this is the footing on which you propose to begin +your married life?"</p> + +<p>It was an extremely awkward question, as the reader<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> will perceive. If +Ventimore replied—as he might with truth—that he had no intention +whatever of maintaining his wife in luxury such as that, he stood +convicted of selfish indulgence as a bachelor; if, on the other hand, he +declared that he <i>did</i> propose to maintain his wife in the same +fantastic and exaggerated splendour as the present, it would certainly +confirm her father's disbelief in his prudence and economy.</p> + +<p>And it was that egregious old ass of a Jinnee, as Horace thought, with +suppressed rage, who had let him in for all this, and who was now far +beyond all remonstrance or reproach!</p> + +<p>Before he could bring himself to answer the question, the attendants had +noiselessly removed the tray and stool, and were handing round rosewater +in a silver ewer and basin, the character of which, luckily or +otherwise, turned the Professor's inquisitiveness into a different channel.</p> + +<p>"These are not bad—really not bad at all," he said, inspecting the +design. "Where did you manage to pick them up?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't," said Horace; "they're provided by the—the person who +supplies the dinner."</p> + +<p>"Can you give me his address?" said the Professor, scenting a bargain; +"because really, you know, these things are probably antiques—much too +good to be used for business purposes."</p> + +<p>"I'm wrong," said Horace, lamely; "these particular things are—are lent +by an eccentric Oriental gentleman, as a great favour."</p> + +<p>"Do I know him? Is he a collector of such things?"</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't have met him; he—he's lived a very retired life of late."</p> + +<p>"I should very much like to see his collection. If you could give me a +letter of introduction——"</p> + +<p>"No," said Horace, in a state of prickly heat; "it wouldn't be any use. +His collection is never shown. He—he's a most peculiar man. And just +now he's abroad."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p><p>"Ah! pardon me if I've been indiscreet; but I concluded from what you +said that this—ah—banquet was furnished by a professional caterer."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the banquet? Yes, <i>that</i> came from the Stores," said Horace, +mendaciously. "The—the Oriental Cookery Department. They've just +started it, you know; so—so I thought I'd give them a trial. But it's +not what I call properly organised yet."</p> + +<p>The slaves were now, with low obeisances, inviting them to seat +themselves on the divan which lined part of the hall.</p> + +<p>"Ha!" said the Professor, as he rose from his cushion, cracking audibly, +"so we're to have our coffee and what not over there, hey?... Well, my +boy, I shan't be sorry, I confess, to have something to lean my back +against—and a cigar, a mild cigar, will—ah—aid digestion. You <i>do</i> +smoke here?"</p> + +<p>"Smoke?" said Horace, "Why, of course! All over the place. Here," he +said, clapping his hands, which brought an obsequious slave instantly to +his side; "just bring coffee and cigars, will you?"</p> + +<p>The slave rolled his brandy-ball eyes in obvious perplexity.</p> + +<p>"Coffee," said Horace; "you must know what coffee is. And cigarettes. +Well, <i>chibouks</i>, then—'hubble-bubbles'—if that's what you call them."</p> + +<p>But the slave clearly did not understand, and it suddenly struck Horace +that, since 'tobacco and coffee were not introduced, even in the East, +till long after the Jinnee's time, he, as the founder of the feast, +would naturally be unaware how indispensable they had become at the present day.</p> + +<p>"I'm really awfully sorry," he said; "but they don't seem to have +provided any. I shall speak to the manager about it. And, unfortunately, +I don't know where my own cigars are."</p> + +<p>"It's of no consequence," said the Professor, with the sort of stoicism +that minds very much. "I am<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> a moderate smoker at best, and Turkish +coffee, though delicious, is apt to keep me awake. But if you could let +me have a look at that brass bottle you got at poor Collingham's sale, I +should be obliged to you."</p> + +<p>Horace had no idea where it was then, nor could he, until the Professor +came to the rescue with a few words of Arabic, manage to make the slaves +comprehend what he wished them to find.</p> + +<p>At length, however, two of them appeared, bearing the brass bottle with +every sign of awe, and depositing it at Ventimore's feet.</p> + +<p>Professor Futvoye, after wiping and adjusting his glasses, proceeded to +examine the vessel. "It certainly is a most unusual type of brassware," +he said, "as unique in its way as the silver ewer and basin; and, as you +thought, there does seem to be something resembling an inscription on +the cap, though in this dim light it is almost impossible to be sure."</p> + +<p>While he was poring over it, Horace seated himself on the divan by +Sylvia's side, hoping for one of the whispered conversations permitted +to affianced lovers; he had pulled through the banquet somehow, and on +the whole he felt thankful things had not gone off worse. The noiseless +and uncanny attendants, whom he did not know whether to regard as +Efreets, or demons, or simply illusions, but whose services he had no +wish to retain, had all withdrawn. Mrs. Futvoye was peacefully +slumbering, and her husband was in a better humour than he had been all the evening.</p> + +<p>Suddenly from behind the hangings of one of the archways came strange, +discordant sounds, barbaric janglings and thumpings, varied by yowls as +of impassioned cats.</p> + +<p>Sylvia drew involuntarily closer to Horace; her mother woke with a +start, and the Professor looked up from the brass bottle with returning irritation.</p> + +<p>"What's this? What's this?" he demanded; "some fresh surprise in store for us?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p><p>It was quite as much of a surprise for Horace, but he was spared the +humiliation of owning it by the entrance of some half-dozen dusky +musicians swathed in white and carrying various strangely fashioned +instruments, with which they squatted down in a semi-circle by the +opposite wall, and began to twang, and drub, and squall with the +complacent cacophony of an Eastern orchestra. Clearly Fakrash was +determined that nothing should be wanting to make the entertainment a complete success.</p> + +<p>"What a very extraordinary noise!" said Mrs. Futvoye; "surely they can't +mean it for music?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, they do," said Horace; "it—it's really more harmonious than it +sounds—you have to get accustomed to the—er—notation. When you do, +it's rather soothing than otherwise."</p> + +<p>"I dare say," said the poor lady. "And do <i>they</i> come from the Stores, too?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Horace, with a fine assumption of candour, "they don't; they +come from—the Arab Encampment at Earl's Court—parties and <i>fêtes</i> +attended, you know. But they play <i>here</i> for nothing; they—they want to +get their name known, you see; very deserving and respectable set of fellows."</p> + +<p>"My dear Horace!" remarked Mrs. Futvoye, "if they expect to get +engagements for parties and so on, they really ought to try and learn a +tune of <i>some</i> sort."</p> + +<p>"I understand, Horace," whispered Sylvia, "it's very naughty of you to +have gone to all this trouble and expense (for, of course, it <i>has</i> cost +you a lot) just to please us; but, whatever, dad may say, I love you all +the better for doing it!"</p> + +<p>And her hand stole softly into his, and he felt that he could forgive +Fakrash everything, even—even the orchestra.</p> + +<p>But there was something unpleasantly spectral about their shadowy forms, +which showed in grotesquely baggy and bulgy shapes in the uncertain +light. Some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> of them wore immense and curious white head-dresses, which +gave them the appearance of poulticed thumbs; and they all went on +scraping and twiddling and caterwauling with a doleful monotony that +Horace felt must be getting on his guests' nerves, as it certainly was on his own.</p> + +<p>He did not know how to get rid of them, but he sketched a kind of +gesture in the air, intended to intimate that, while their efforts had +afforded the keenest pleasure to the company generally, they were +unwilling to monopolise them any longer, and the artists were at liberty to retire.</p> + +<p>Perhaps there is no art more liable to misconstruction than pantomime; +certainly, Ventimore's efforts in this direction were misunderstood, for +the music became wilder, louder, more aggressively and abominably out of +tune—and then a worse thing happened.</p> + +<p>For the curtains separated, and, heralded by sharp yelps from the +performers, a female figure floated into the hall and began to dance +with a slow and sinuous grace.</p> + +<p>Her beauty, though of a pronounced Oriental type, was unmistakable, even +in the subdued light which fell on her; her diaphanous robe indicated a +faultless form; her dark tresses were braided with sequins; she had the +long, lustrous eyes, the dusky cheeks artificially whitened, and the +fixed scarlet smile of the Eastern dancing-girl of all time.</p> + +<p>And she paced the floor with her tinkling feet, writhing and undulating +like some beautiful cobra, while the players worked themselves up to yet +higher and higher stages of frenzy.</p> + +<p>Ventimore, as he sat there looking helplessly on, felt a return of his +resentment against the Jinnee. It was really too bad of him; he ought, +at his age, to have known better!</p> + +<p>Not that there was anything objectionable in the performance itself; but +still, it was <i>not</i> the kind of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> entertainment for such an occasion. +Horace wished now he had mentioned to Fakrash who the guests were whom +he expected, and then perhaps even the Jinnee would have exercised more +tact in his arrangements.</p> + +<p>"And does this girl come from Earl's Court?" inquired Mrs. Futvoye, who +was now thoroughly awake.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, no," said Horace; "I engaged <i>her</i> at—at Harrod's—the +Entertainment Bureau. They told me there she was rather good—struck out +a line of her own, don't you know. But perfectly correct; she—she only +does this to support an invalid aunt."</p> + +<p>These statements were, as he felt even in making them, not only +gratuitous, but utterly unconvincing, but he had arrived at that +condition in which a man discovers with terror the unsuspected amount of +mendacity latent in his system.</p> + +<p>"I should have thought there were other ways of supporting invalid +aunts," remarked Mrs. Futvoye. "What is this young lady's name?"</p> + +<p>"Tinkler," said Horace, on the spur of the moment. "Miss Clementine Tinkler."</p> + +<p>"But surely she is a foreigner?"</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle, I ought to have said. And Tinkla—with an 'a,' you know. +I believe her mother was of Arabian extraction—but I really don't +know," explained Horace, conscious that Sylvia had withdrawn her hand +from his, and was regarding him with covert anxiety.</p> + +<p>"I really <i>must</i> put a stop to this," he thought.</p> + +<p>"You're getting bored by all this, darling," he said aloud; "so am I. +I'll tell them to go." And he rose and held out his hand as a sign that +the dance should cease.</p> + +<p>It ceased at once; but, to his unspeakable horror, the dancer crossed +the floor with a swift jingling rush, and sank in a gauzy heap at his +feet, seizing his hand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> in both hers and covering it with kisses, while +she murmured speeches in some tongue unknown to him.</p> + +<p>"Is this a usual feature in Miss Tinkla's entertainments, may I ask?" +said Mrs. Futvoye, bristling with not unnatural indignation.</p> + +<p>"I really don't know," said the unhappy Horace; "I can't make out what she's saying."</p> + +<p>"If I understand her rightly," said the Professor, "she is addressing +you as the 'light of her eyes and the vital spirit of her heart.'"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Horace, "she's quite mistaken, you know. It—it's the +emotional artist temperament—they don't <i>mean</i> anything by it. My—my +dear young lady," he added, "you've danced most delightfully, and I'm +sure we're all most deeply indebted to you; but we won't detain you any +longer. Professor," he added, as she made no offer to rise, "<i>will</i> you +kindly explain to them in Arabic that I should be obliged by their going at once?"</p> + +<p>The Professor said a few words, which had the desired effect. The girl +gave a little scream and scudded through the archway, and the musicians +seized their instruments and scuttled after her.</p> + +<p>"I am so sorry," said Horace, whose evening seemed to him to have been +chiefly spent in apologies; "it's not at all the kind of entertainment +one would expect from a place like Whiteley's."</p> + +<p>"By no means," agreed the Professor; "but I understood you to say Miss +Tinkla was recommended to you by Harrod's?"</p> + +<p>"Very likely, sir," said Horace; "but that doesn't affect the case. I +shouldn't expect it from <i>them</i>."</p> + +<p>"Probably they don't know how shamelessly that young person conducts +herself," said Mrs. Futvoye. "And I think it only right that they should be told."</p> + +<p>"I shall complain, of course," said Horace. "I shall put it very strongly."</p> + +<p>"A protest would have more weight coming from a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> woman," said Mrs. +Futvoye; "and, as a shareholder in the company, I shall feel bound——"</p> + +<p>"No, I wouldn't," said Horace; "in fact, you mustn't. For, now I come to +think of it, she didn't come from Harrod's, after all, or Whiteley's either."</p> + +<p>"Then perhaps you will be good enough to inform us where she <i>did</i> come from?"</p> + +<p>"I would if I knew," said Horace; "but I don't."</p> + +<p>"What!" cried the Professor, sharply, "do you mean to say you can't +account for the existence of a dancing-girl who—in my daughter's +presence—kisses your hand and addresses you by endearing epithets?"</p> + +<p>"Oriental metaphor!" said Horace. "She was a little overstrung. Of +course, if I had had any idea she would make such a scene as that—— +Sylvia," he broke off, "<i>you</i> don't doubt me?"</p> + +<p>"No, Horace," said Sylvia, simply, "I'm sure you must have <i>some</i> +explanation—only I do think it would be better if you gave it."</p> + +<p>"If I <i>told</i> you the truth," said Horace, slowly, "you would none of you +believe me!"</p> + +<p>"Then you admit," put in the Professor, "that hitherto you have <i>not</i> +been telling the truth?"</p> + +<p>"Not as invariably as I could have wished," Horace confessed.</p> + +<p>"So I suspected. Then, unless you can bring yourself to be perfectly +candid, you can hardly wonder at our asking you to consider your +engagement as broken off?"</p> + +<p>"Broken off!" echoed Horace. "Sylvia, you won't give me up! You <i>know</i> I +wouldn't do anything unworthy of you!"</p> + +<p>"I'm certain that you can't have done anything which would make me love +you one bit the less if I knew it. So why not be quite open with us?"</p> + +<p>"Because, darling," said Horace, "I'm in such a fix that it would only +make matters worse."</p> + +<p>"In that case," said the Professor, "and as it is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> already rather late, +perhaps you will allow one of your numerous retinue to call a four-wheeler?"</p> + +<p>Horace clapped his hands, but no one answered the summons, and he could +not find any of the slaves in the antechamber.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid all the servants have left," he explained; and it is to be +feared he would have added that they were all obliged to return to the +contractor by eleven, only he caught the Professor's eye and decided +that he had better refrain. "If you will wait here, I'll go out and +fetch a cab," he added.</p> + +<p>"There is no occasion to trouble you," said the Professor; "my wife and +daughter have already got their things on, and we will walk until we +find a cab. Now, Mr. Ventimore, we will bid you good-night and good-bye. +For, after what has happened, you will, I trust, have the good taste to +discontinue your visits and make no attempt to see Sylvia again."</p> + +<p>"Upon my honour," protested Horace, "I have done nothing to warrant you +in shutting your doors against me."</p> + +<p>"I am unable to agree with you. I have never thoroughly approved of your +engagement, because, as I told you at the time, I suspected you of +recklessness in money matters. Even in accepting your invitation +to-night I warned you, as you may remember, not to make the occasion an +excuse for foolish extravagance. I come here, and find you in apartments +furnished and decorated (as you informed us) by yourself, and on a scale +which would be prodigal in a millionaire. You have a suite of retainers +which (except for their nationality and imperfect discipline) a prince +might envy. You provide a banquet of—hem!—delicacies which must have +cost you infinite trouble and unlimited expense—this, after I had +expressly stipulated for a quiet family dinner! Not content with that, +you procure for our diversion Arab music and dancing of a—of a highly +recondite character. I should be unworthy of the name<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> of father, sir, +if I were to entrust my only daughter's happiness to a young man with so +little common sense, so little self-restraint. And she will understand +my motives and obey my wishes."</p> + +<p>"You're right, Professor, according to your lights," admitted Horace. +"And yet—confound it all!—you're utterly wrong, too!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Horace," cried Sylvia; "if you had only listened to dad, and not +gone to all this foolish, foolish expense, we might have been so happy!"</p> + +<p>"But I have gone to no expense. All this hasn't cost me a penny!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, there <i>is</i> some mystery! Horace, if you love me, you will +explain—here, now, before it's too late!"</p> + +<p>"My darling," groaned Horace, "I would, like a shot, if I thought it +would be of the least use!"</p> + +<p>"Hitherto," said the Professor, "you cannot be said to have been happy +in your explanations—and I should advise you not to venture on any +more. Good-night, once more. I only wish it were possible, without +needless irony, to make the customary acknowledgments for a pleasant evening."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Futvoye had already hurried her daughter away, and, though she had +left her husband to express his sentiments unaided, she made it +sufficiently clear that she entirely agreed with them.</p> + +<p>Horace stood in the outer hall by the fountain, in which his drowned +chrysanthemums were still floating, and gazed in stupefied despair after +his guests as they went down the path to the gate. He knew only too well +that they would never cross his threshold, nor he theirs, again.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he came to himself with a start. "I'll try it!" he cried. "I +can't and won't stand this!" And he rushed after them bareheaded.</p> + +<p>"Professor!" he said breathlessly, as he caught him up, "one moment. On +second thoughts, I <i>will</i> tell you my secret, if you will promise me a +patient hearing."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p><p>"The pavement is hardly the place for confidences," replied the +Professor, "and, if it were, your costume is calculated to attract more +remark than is desirable. My wife and daughter have gone on—if you will +permit me, I will overtake them—I shall be at home to-morrow morning, +should you wish to see me."</p> + +<p>"No—to-night, to-night!" urged Horace. "I can't sleep in that infernal +place with this on my mind. Put Mrs. Futvoye and Sylvia into a cab, +Professor, and come back. It's not late, and I won't keep you long—but +for Heaven's sake, let me tell you my story at once."</p> + +<p>Probably the Professor was not without some curiosity on the subject; at +all events he yielded. "Very well," he said, "go into the house and I +will rejoin you presently. Only remember," he added, "that I shall +accept no statement without the fullest proof. Otherwise you will merely +be wasting your time and mine."</p> + +<p>"Proof!" thought Horace, gloomily, as he returned to his Arabian halls, +"The only decent proof I could produce would be old Fakrash, and he's +not likely to turn up again—especially now I want him."</p> + +<p>A little later the Professor returned, having found a cab and despatched +his women-folk home. "Now, young man," he said, as he unwound his +wrapper and seated himself on the divan by Horace's side, "I can give +you just ten minutes to tell your story in, so let me beg you to make it +as brief and as comprehensible as you can."</p> + +<p>It was not exactly an encouraging invitation in the circumstances, but +Horace took his courage in both hands and told him everything, just as +it had happened.</p> + +<p>"And that's your story?" said the Professor, after listening to the +narrative with the utmost attention, when Horace came to the end.</p> + +<p>"That's my story, sir," said Horace. "And I hope it has altered your +opinion of me."</p> + +<p>"It has," replied the Professor, in an altered tone;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> "it has indeed. +Yours is a sad case—a very sad case."</p> + +<p>"It's rather awkward, isn't it? But I don't mind so long as you +understand. And you'll tell Sylvia—as much as you think proper?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes; I must tell Sylvia."</p> + +<p>"And I may go on seeing her as usual?"</p> + +<p>"Well—will you be guided by my advice—the advice of one who has lived +more than double your years?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said Horace.</p> + +<p>"Then, if I were you, I should go away at once, for a complete change of +air and scene."</p> + +<p>"That's impossible, sir—you forget my work!"</p> + +<p>"Never mind your work, my boy: leave it for a while, try a sea-voyage, +go round the world, get quite away from these associations."</p> + +<p>"But I might come across the Jinnee again," objected Horace; "<i>he's</i> +travelling, as I told you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, to be sure. Still, I should go away. Consult any doctor, and +he'll tell you the same thing."</p> + +<p>"Consult any—— Good God!" cried Horace; "I see what it is—you think +I'm mad!"</p> + +<p>"No, no, my dear boy," said the Professor, soothingly, "not mad—nothing +of the sort; perhaps your mental equilibrium is just a trifle—it's +quite intelligible. You see, the sudden turn in your professional +prospects, coupled with your engagement to Sylvia—I've known stronger +minds than yours thrown off their balance—temporarily, of course, quite +temporarily—by less than that."</p> + +<p>"You believe I am suffering from delusions?"</p> + +<p>"I don't say that. I think you may see ordinary things in a distorted +light."</p> + +<p>"Anyhow, you don't believe there really was a Jinnee inside that bottle?"</p> + +<p>"Remember, you yourself assured me at the time you opened it that you +found nothing whatever inside it. Isn't it more credible that you were +right then than that you should be right now?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p><p>"Well," said Horace, "you saw all those black slaves; you ate, or tried +to eat, that unutterably beastly banquet; you heard that music—and then +there was the dancing-girl. And this hall we're in, this robe I've got +on—are <i>they</i> delusions? Because if they are, I'm afraid you will have +to admit that <i>you're</i> mad too."</p> + +<p>"Ingeniously put," said the Professor. "I fear it is unwise to argue +with you. Still, I will venture to assert that a strong imagination like +yours, over-heated and saturated with Oriental ideas—to which I fear I +may have contributed—is not incapable of unconsciously assisting in its +own deception. In other words, I think that you may have provided all +this yourself from various quarters without any clear recollection of the fact."</p> + +<p>"That's very scientific and satisfactory as far as it goes, my dear +Professor," said Horace; "but there's one piece of evidence which may +upset your theory—and that's this brass bottle."</p> + +<p>"If your reasoning powers were in their normal condition," said the +Professor, compassionately, "you would see that the mere production of +an empty bottle can be no proof of what it contained—or, for that +matter, that it ever contained anything at all!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I see <i>that</i>," said Horace; "but <i>this</i> bottle has a stopper with +what you yourself admit to be an inscription of some sort. Suppose that +inscription confirms my story—what then? All I ask you to do is to make +it out for yourself before you decide that I'm either a liar or a lunatic."</p> + +<p>"I warn you," said the Professor, "that if you are trusting to my being +unable to decipher the inscription, you are deceiving yourself. You +represent that this bottle belongs to the period of Solomon—that is, +about a thousand years <span class="smaller">B.C.</span> Probably you are not aware that the earliest +specimens of Oriental metal-work in existence are not older than the +tenth century of our era. But, granting that it is as old as you allege, +I shall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> certainly be able to read any inscription there may be on it. I +have made out clay tablets in Cuneiform which were certainly written a +thousand years before Solomon's time."</p> + +<p>"So much the better," said Horace. "I'm as certain as I can be that, +whatever is written on that lid—whether it's Phœnician, or +Cuneiform, or anything else—must have some reference to a Jinnee +confined in the bottle, or at least bear the seal of Solomon. But there +the thing is—examine it for yourself."</p> + +<p>"Not now," said the Professor; "it's too late, and the light here is not +strong enough. But I'll tell you what I will do. I'll take this stopper +thing home with me, and examine it carefully to-morrow—on one condition."</p> + +<p>"You have only to name it," said Horace.</p> + +<p>"My condition is, that if I, and one or two other Orientalists to whom I +may submit it, come to the conclusion that there is no real inscription +at all—or, if any, that a date and meaning must be assigned to it +totally inconsistent with your story—you will accept our finding and +acknowledge that you have been under a delusion, and dismiss the whole +affair from your mind."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't mind agreeing to <i>that</i>," said Horace, "particularly as +it's my only chance."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," said the Professor, as he removed the metal cap and +put it in his pocket; "you may depend upon hearing from me in a day or +two. Meantime, my boy," he continued, almost affectionately, "why not +try a short bicycle tour somewhere, hey? You're a cyclist, I +know—anything but allow yourself to dwell on Oriental subjects."</p> + +<p>"It's not so easy to avoid dwelling on them as you think!" said Horace, +with rather a dreary laugh. "And I fancy, Professor, that—whether you +like it or not—you'll have to believe in that Jinnee of mine sooner or later."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p><p>"I can scarcely conceive," replied the Professor, who was by this time +at the outer door, "any degree of evidence which could succeed in +convincing me that your brass bottle had ever contained an Arabian +Jinnee. However, I shall endeavour to preserve an open mind on the +subject. Good evening to you."</p> + +<p>As soon as he was alone, Horace paced up and down his deserted halls in +a state of simmering rage as he thought how eagerly he had looked +forward to his little dinner-party; how intimate and delightful it might +have been, and what a monstrous and prolonged nightmare it had actually +proved. And at the end of it there he was—in a fantastic, impossible +dwelling, deserted by every one, his chances of setting himself right +with Sylvia hanging on the slenderest thread; unknown difficulties and +complications threatening him from every side!</p> + +<p>He owed all this to Fakrash. Yes, that incorrigibly grateful Jinnee, +with his antiquated notions and his high-flown professions, had +contrived to ruin him more disastrously than if he had been his +bitterest foe! Ah! if he could be face to face with him once more—if +only for five minutes—he would be restrained by no false delicacy: he +would tell him fairly and plainly what a meddling, blundering old fool +he was. But Fakrash had taken his flight for ever: there were no means +of calling him back—nothing to be done now but go to bed and sleep—if he could!</p> + +<p>Exasperated by the sense of his utter helplessness, Ventimore went to +the arch which led to his bed-chamber and drew the curtain back with a +furious pull. And just within the archway, standing erect with folded +arms and the smile of fatuous benignity which Ventimore was beginning to +know and dread, was the form of Fakrash-el-Aamash, the Jinnee!</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>NO PLACE LIKE HOME!</h3> + +<p>"May thy head long survive!" said Fakrash, by way of salutation, as he +stepped through the archway.</p> + +<p>"You're very good," said Horace, whose anger had almost evaporated in +the relief of the Jinnee's unexpected return, "but I don't think any +head can survive this sort of thing long."</p> + +<p>"Art thou content with this dwelling I have provided for thee?" inquired +the Jinnee, glancing around the stately hall with perceptible complacency.</p> + +<p>It would have been positively brutal to say how very far from contented +he felt, so Horace could only mumble that he had never been lodged like +that before in all his life.</p> + +<p>"It is far below thy deserts," Fakrash observed graciously. "And were +thy friends amazed at the manner of their entertainment?"</p> + +<p>"They were," said Horace.</p> + +<p>"A sure method of preserving friends is to feast them with liberality," +remarked the Jinnee.</p> + +<p>This was rather more than Horace's temper could stand. "You were kind +enough to provide my friends with such a feast," he said, "that they'll +never come <i>here</i> again."</p> + +<p>"How so? Were not the meats choice and abounding in fatness? Was not the +wine sweet, and the sherbet like unto perfumed snow?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, everything was—er—as nice as possible," said Horace. "Couldn't +have been better."</p> + +<p>"Yet thou sayest that thy friends will return no more—for what reason?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p><p>"Well, you see," explained Horace, reluctantly, "there's such a thing +as doing people <i>too</i> well. I mean, it isn't everybody that appreciates +Arabian cooking. But they might have stood that. It was the dancing-girl +that did for me."</p> + +<p>"I commanded that a houri, lovelier than the full moon, and graceful as +a young gazelle, should appear for the delight of thy guests."</p> + +<p>"She came," said Horace, gloomily.</p> + +<p>"Acquaint me with that which hath occurred—for I perceive plainly that +something hath fallen out contrary to thy desires."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Horace, "if it had been a bachelor party, there would have +been no harm in the houri; but, as it happened, two of my guests were +ladies, and they—well, they not unnaturally put a wrong construction on it all."</p> + +<p>"Verily," exclaimed the Jinnee, "thy words are totally incomprehensible to me."</p> + +<p>"I don't know what the custom may be in Arabia," said Horace, "but with +us it is not usual for a man to engage a houri to dance after dinner to +amuse the lady he is proposing to marry. It's the kind of attention +she'd be most unlikely to appreciate.</p> + +<p>"Then was one of thy guests the damsel whom thou art seeking to marry?"</p> + +<p>"She was," said Horace, "and the other two were her father and mother. +From which you may imagine that it was not altogether agreeable for me +when your gazelle threw herself at my feet and hugged my knees and +declared that I was the light of her eyes. Of course, it all meant +nothing—it's probably the conventional behaviour for a gazelle, and I'm +not reflecting upon her in the least. But, in the circumstances, it +<i>was</i> compromising."</p> + +<p>"I thought," said Fakrash, "that thou assuredst me that thou wast not +contracted to any damsel?"</p> + +<p>"I think I only said that there was no one whom I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> would trouble you to +procure as a wife for me," replied Horace; "I certainly was +engaged—though, after this evening, my engagement is at an end—unless +... that reminds me, do you happen to know whether there really <i>was</i> an +inscription on the seal of your bottle, and what it said?"</p> + +<p>"I know naught of any inscription," said the Jinnee; "bring me the seal +that I may see it."</p> + +<p>"I haven't got it by me at this moment," said Horace; "I lent it to my +friend—the father of this young lady I told you of. You see, Mr. +Fakrash, you got me into—I mean, I was in such a hole over this affair +that I was obliged to make a clean breast of it to him. And he wouldn't +believe it, so it struck me that there might be an inscription of some +sort on the seal, saying who you were, and why Solomon had you confined +in the bottle. Then the Professor would be obliged to admit that there's +something in my story."</p> + +<p>"Truly, I wonder at thee and at the smallness of thy penetration," the +Jinnee commented; "for if there were indeed any writing upon this seal, +it is not possible that one of thy race should be able to decipher it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I beg your pardon," said Horace; "Professor Futvoye is an Oriental +scholar; he can make out any inscription, no matter how many thousands +of years old it may be. If anything's there, he'll decipher it. The +question is whether anything <i>is</i> there."</p> + +<p>The effect of this speech on Fakrash was as unexpected as it was +inexplicable: the Jinnee's features, usually so mild, began to work +convulsively until they became terrible to look at, and suddenly, with a +fierce howl, he shot up to nearly double his ordinary stature.</p> + +<p>"O thou of little sense and breeding!" he cried, in a loud voice; "how +camest thou to deliver the bottle in which I was confined into the hands +of this learned man?"</p> + +<p>Ventimore, startled as he was, did not lose his self-possession. "My +dear sir," he said, "I did not suppose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> you could have any further use +for it. And, as a matter of fact, I didn't give Professor Futvoye the +bottle—which is over there in the corner—but merely the stopper. I +wish you wouldn't tower over me like that—it gives me a crick in the +neck to talk to you. Why on earth should you make such a fuss about my +lending the seal; what possible difference can it make to you even if it +does confirm my story? And it's of immense importance to <i>me</i> that the +Professor should believe I told the truth."</p> + +<p>"I spoke in haste," said the Jinnee, slowly resuming his normal size, +and looking slightly ashamed of his recent outburst as well as +uncommonly foolish. "The bottle truly is of no value; and as for the +stopper, since it is but lent, it is no great matter. If there be any +legend upon the seal, perchance this learned man of whom thou speakest +will by this time have deciphered it?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Horace, "he won't tackle it till to-morrow. And it's as +likely as not that when he does he won't find any reference to +<i>you</i>—and I shall be up a taller tree than ever!"</p> + +<p>"Art thou so desirous that he should receive proof that thy story is true?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course I am! Haven't I been saying so all this time?"</p> + +<p>"Who can satisfy him so surely as I?"</p> + +<p>"You!" cried Horace. "Do you mean to say you really would? Mr. Fakrash, +you <i>are</i> an old brick! That would be the very thing!"</p> + +<p>"There is naught," said the Jinnee, smiling indulgently, "that I would +not do to promote thy welfare, for thou hast rendered me inestimable +service. Acquaint me therefore with the abode of this sage, and I will +present myself before him, and if haply he should find no inscription +upon the seal, or its purport should be hidden from him, then will I +convince him that thou hast spoken the truth and no lie."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p><p>Horace very willingly gave him the Professor's address. "Only don't +drop in on him to-night, you know," he thought it prudent to add, "or +you might startle him. Call any time after breakfast to-morrow, and +you'll find him in."</p> + +<p>"To-night," said Fakrash, "I return to pursue my search after Suleyman +(on whom be peace!). For not yet have I found him."</p> + +<p>"If you <i>will</i> try to do so many things at once," said Horace, "I don't +see how you can expect much result."</p> + +<p>"At Nineveh they knew him not—for where I left a city I found but a +heap of ruins, tenanted by owls and bats."</p> + +<p>"<i>They say the lion and the lizard keep the Courts</i>——" murmured +Horace, half to himself. "I was afraid you might be disappointed with +Nineveh myself. Why not run over to Sheba? You might hear of him there."</p> + +<p>"Seba of El-Yemen—the country of Bilkees, the Queen beloved of +Suleyman," said the Jinnee. "It is an excellent suggestion, and I will +follow it without delay."</p> + +<p>"But you won't forget to look in on Professor Futvoye to-morrow, will you?"</p> + +<p>"Assuredly I will not. And now, ere I depart, tell me if there be any +other service I may render thee."</p> + +<p>Horace hesitated. "There <i>is</i> just one," he said, "only I'm afraid +you'll be offended if I mention it."</p> + +<p>"On the head and the eye be thy commands!" said the Jinnee; "for +whatsoever thou desirest shall be accomplished, provided that it lie +within my power to perform it."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Horace, "if you're sure you don't mind, I'll tell you. +You've transformed this house into a wonderful place, more like the +Alhambra—I don't mean the one in Leicester Square—than a London +lodging-house. But then I am only a lodger here, and the people the +house belongs to—excellent people in their way—would very much rather +have the house<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> as it was. They have a sort of idea that they won't be +able to let these rooms as easily as the others."</p> + +<p>"Base and sordid dogs!" said the Jinnee, with contempt.</p> + +<p>"Possibly," said Horace, "it's narrow-minded of them—but that's the way +they look at it. They've actually left rather than stay here. And it's +<i>their</i> house—not mine."</p> + +<p>"If they abandon this dwelling, thou wilt remain in the more secure possession."</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>shall</i> I, though? They'll go to law and have me turned out, and I +shall have to pay ruinous damages into the bargain. So, you see, what +you intended as a kindness will only bring me bad luck."</p> + +<p>"Come—without more words—to the statement of thy request," said +Fakrash, "for I am in haste."</p> + +<p>"All I want you to do," replied Horace, in some anxiety as to what the +effect of his request would be, "is to put everything here back to what +it was before. It won't take you a minute."</p> + +<p>"Of a truth," exclaimed Fakrash, "to bestow a favour upon thee is but a +thankless undertaking, for not once, but twice, hast thou rejected my +benefits—and now, behold, I am at a loss to devise means to gratify thee!"</p> + +<p>"I know I've abused your good nature," said Horace; "but if you'll only +do this, and then convince the Professor that my story is true, I shall +be more than satisfied. I'll never ask another favour of you!"</p> + +<p>"My benevolence towards thee hath no bounds—as thou shalt see; and I +can deny thee nothing, for truly thou art a worthy and temperate young +man. Farewell, then, and be it according to thy desire."</p> + +<p>He raised his arms above his head, and shot up like a rocket towards the +lofty dome, which split asunder to let him pass. Horace, as he gazed +after him, had a momentary glimpse of deep blue sky, with a star or two +that seemed to be hurrying through the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>transparent opal scud, before +the roof closed in once more.</p> + +<p>Then came a low, rumbling sound, with a shock like a mild earthquake: +the slender pillars swayed under their horseshoe arches; the big +hanging-lanterns went out; the walls narrowed, and the floor heaved and +rose—till Ventimore found himself up in his own familiar sitting-room +once more, in the dark. Outside he could see the great square still +shrouded in grey haze—the street lamps flickering in the wind; a +belated reveller was beguiling his homeward way by rattling his stick +against the railings as he passed.</p> + +<p>Inside the room everything was exactly as before, and Horace found it +difficult to believe that a few minutes earlier he had been standing on +that same site, but twenty feet or so below his present level, in a +spacious blue-tiled hall, with a domed ceiling and gaudy pillared arches.</p> + +<p>But he was very far from regretting his short-lived splendour; he burnt +with shame and resentment whenever he thought of that nightmare banquet, +which was so unlike the quiet, unpretentious little dinner he had looked forward to.</p> + +<p>However, it was over now, and it was useless to worry himself about what +could not be helped. Besides, fortunately, there was no great harm done; +the Jinnee had been brought to see his mistake, and, to do him justice, +had shown himself willing enough to put it right. He had promised to go +and see the Professor next day, and the result of the interview could +not fail to be satisfactory. And after this, Ventimore thought, Fakrash +would have the sense and good feeling not to interfere in his affairs again.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile he could sleep now with a mind free from his worst anxieties, +and he went to his room in a spirit of intense thankfulness that he had +a Christian bed to sleep in. He took off his gorgeous robes—the only +things that remained to prove to him that the events of that evening had +been no delusion—and locked them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> in his wardrobe with a sense of +relief that he would never be required to wear them again, and his last +conscious thought before he fell asleep was the comforting reflection +that, if there were any barrier between Sylvia and himself, it would be +removed in the course of a very few more hours.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>A FOOL'S PARADISE</h3> + +<p>Ventimore found next morning that his bath and shaving-water had been +brought up, from which he inferred, quite correctly, that his landlady +must have returned.</p> + +<p>Secretly he was by no means looking forward to his next interview with +her, but she appeared with his bacon and coffee in a spirit so evidently +chastened that he saw that he would have no difficulty so far as she was concerned.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure, Mr. Ventimore, sir," she began, apologetically, "I don't know +what you must have thought of me and Rapkin last night, leaving the +house like we did!"</p> + +<p>"It was extremely inconvenient," said Horace, "and not at all what I +should have expected from you. But possibly you had some reason for it?"</p> + +<p>"Why, sir," said Mrs. Rapkin, running her hand nervously along the back +of a chair, "the fact is, something come over me, and come over Rapkin, +as we couldn't stop here another minute not if it was ever so."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Horace, raising his eyebrows, "restlessness—eh, Mrs. Rapkin? +Awkward that it should come on just then, though, wasn't it?"</p> + +<p>"It was the look of the place, somehow," said Mrs. Rapkin. "If you'll +believe me, sir, it was all changed like—nothing in it the same from top to bottom!"</p> + +<p>"Really?" said Horace. "I don't notice any difference myself."</p> + +<p>"No more don't I, sir, not by daylight; but last night it was all domes +and harches and marble <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>fountings let into the floor, with parties +moving about downstairs all silent and as black as your hat—which +Rapkin saw them as well as what I did."</p> + +<p>"From the state your husband was in last night," said Horace, "I should +say he was capable of seeing anything—and double of most things."</p> + +<p>"I won't deny, sir, that Rapkin mayn't have been quite hisself, as a +very little upsets him after he's spent an afternoon studying the papers +and what-not at the libery. But I see the niggers too, Mr. Ventimore, +and no one can say <i>I</i> ever take more than is good for me."</p> + +<p>"I don't suggest that for a moment, Mrs. Rapkin," said Horace; "only, if +the house was as you describe last night, how do you account for its +being all right this morning?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Rapkin in her embarrassment was reduced to folding her apron into +small pleats. "It's not for me to say, sir," she replied, "but, if I was +to give my opinion, it would be as them parties as called 'ere on camels +the other day was at the bottom of it."</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't wonder if you were right, Mrs. Rapkin," said Horace +blandly; "you see, you had been exerting yourself over the cooking, and +no doubt were in an over-excited state, and, as you say, those camels +had taken hold of your imagination until you were ready to see anything +that Rapkin saw, and <i>he</i> was ready to see anything <i>you</i> did. It's not +at all uncommon. Scientific people, I believe, call it 'Collective Hallucination.'"</p> + +<p>"Law, sir!" said the good woman, considerably impressed by this +diagnosis, "you don't mean to say I had <i>that</i>? I was always fanciful +from a girl, and could see things in coffee-grounds as nobody else +could—but I never was took like that before. And to think of me leaving +my dinner half cooked, and you expecting your young lady and her pa and +ma! Well, <i>there</i>, now, I <i>am</i> sorry. Whatever did you do, sir?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p><p>"We managed to get food of sorts from somewhere," said Horace, "but it +was most uncomfortable for me, and I trust, Mrs. Rapkin—I sincerely +trust that it will not occur again."</p> + +<p>"That I'll answer for it shan't, sir. And you won't take no notice to +Rapkin, sir, will you? Though it was his seein' the niggers and that as +put it into my 'ed; but I 'ave spoke to him pretty severe already, and +he's truly sorry and ashamed for forgetting hisself as he did."</p> + +<p>"Very well, Mrs. Rapkin," said Horace; "we will understand that last +night's—hem—rather painful experience is not to be alluded to +again—on either side."</p> + +<p>He felt sincerely thankful to have got out of it so easily, for it was +impossible to say what gossip might not have been set on foot if the +Rapkins had not been brought to see the advisability of reticence on the subject.</p> + +<p>"There's one more thing, sir, I wished for to speak to you about," said +Mrs. Rapkin; "that great brass vawse as you bought at an oction some +time back. I dunno if you remember it?"</p> + +<p>"I remember it," said Horace. "Well, what about it?"</p> + +<p>"Why, sir, I found it in the coal-cellar this morning, and I thought I'd +ask if that was where you wished it kep' in future. For, though no +amount o' polish could make it what I call a tasty thing, it's neither +horniment nor yet useful where it is at present."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Horace, rather relieved, for he had an ill-defined dread from +her opening words that the bottle might have been misbehaving itself in +some way. "Put it wherever you please, Mrs. Rapkin; do whatever you like +with it—so long as I don't see the thing again!"</p> + +<p>"Very good, sir; I on'y thought I'd ask the question," said Mrs. Rapkin, +as she closed the door upon herself.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p><p>Altogether, Horace walked to Great Cloister Street that morning in a +fairly cheerful mood and amiably disposed, even towards the Jinnee. With +all his many faults, he was a thoroughly good-natured old devil—very +superior in every way to the one the Arabian Nights fisherman found in <i>his</i> bottle.</p> + +<p>"Ninety-nine Jinn out of a hundred," thought Horace, "would have turned +nasty on finding benefit after benefit 'declined with thanks.' But one +good point in Fakrash is that he <i>does</i> take a hint in good part, and, +as soon as he can be made to see where he's wrong, he's always ready to +set things right. And he thoroughly understands now that these Oriental +dodges of his won't do nowadays, and that when people see a penniless +man suddenly wallowing in riches they naturally want to know how he came +by them. I don't suppose he will trouble me much in future. If he should +look in now and then, I must put up with it. Perhaps, if I suggested it, +he wouldn't mind coming in some form that would look less outlandish. If +he would get himself up as a banker, or a bishop—the Bishop of Bagdad, +say—I shouldn't care how often he called. Only, I can't have him coming +down the chimney in either capacity. But he'll see that himself. And +he's done me one real service—I mustn't let myself forget that. He sent +me old Wackerbath. By the way, I wonder if he's seen my designs yet, and +what he thinks of them."</p> + +<p>He was at his table, engaged in jotting down some rough ideas for the +decoration of the reception-rooms in the projected house, when Beevor came in.</p> + +<p>"I've got nothing doing just now," he said; "so I thought I'd come in +and have a squint at those plans of yours, if they're forward enough to be seen yet."</p> + +<p>Ventimore had to explain that even the imperfect method of examination +proposed was not possible, as he had despatched the drawings to his +client the night before.</p> + +<p>"Phew!" said Beevor; "that's sharp work, isn't it?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p><p>"I don't know. I've been sticking hard at it for over a fortnight."</p> + +<p>"Well, you might have given me a chance of seeing what you've made of +it. I let you see all <i>my</i> work!"</p> + +<p>"To tell you the honest truth, old fellow, I wasn't at all sure you'd +like it, and I was afraid you'd put me out of conceit with what I'd +done, and Wackerbath was in a frantic hurry to have the plans—so there it was."</p> + +<p>"And do you think he'll be satisfied with them?"</p> + +<p>"He ought to be. I don't like to be cock-sure, but I believe—I really +do believe—that I've given him rather more than he expected. It's going +to be a devilish good house, though I say it myself."</p> + +<p>"Something new-fangled and fantastic, eh? Well, he mayn't care about it, +you know. When you've had my experience, you'll realise that a client is +a rum bird to satisfy."</p> + +<p>"I shall satisfy <i>my</i> old bird," said Horace, gaily. "He'll have a cage +he can hop about in to his heart's content."</p> + +<p>"You're a clever chap enough," said Beevor; "but to carry a big job like +this through you want one thing—and that's ballast."</p> + +<p>"Not while you heave yours at my head! Come, old fellow, you aren't +really riled because I sent off those plans without showing them to you? +I shall soon have them back, and then you can pitch into 'em as much as +you please. Seriously, though, I shall want all the help you can spare +when I come to the completed designs."</p> + +<p>"'Um," said Beevor, "you've got along very well alone so far—at least, +by your own account; so I dare say you'll be able to manage without me +to the end. Only, you know," he added, as he left the room, "you haven't +won your spurs yet. A fellow isn't necessarily a Gilbert Scott, or a +Norman Shaw, or a Waterhouse just because he happens to get a +sixty-thousand pound job the first go off!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p><p>"Poor old Beevor!" thought Horace, repentantly, "I've put his back up. +I might just as well have shown him the plans, after all; it wouldn't +have hurt me and it would have pleased <i>him</i>. Never mind, I'll make my +peace with him after lunch. I'll ask him to give me his idea for a—no, +hang it all, even friendship has its limits!"</p> + +<p>He returned from lunch to hear what sounded like an altercation of some +sort in his office, in which, as he neared his door, Beevor's voice was +distinctly audible.</p> + +<p>"My dear sir," he was saying, "I have already told you that it is no +affair of mine."</p> + +<p>"But I ask you, sir, as a brother architect," said another voice, +"whether you consider it professional or reasonable——?"</p> + +<p>"As a brother architect," replied Beevor, as Ventimore opened the door, +"I would rather be excused from giving an opinion.... Ah, here is Mr. +Ventimore himself."</p> + +<p>Horace entered, to find himself confronted by Mr. Wackerbath, whose face +was purple and whose white whiskers were bristling with rage. "So, sir!" +he began. "So, sir!—--" and choked ignominiously.</p> + +<p>"There appears to have been some misunderstanding, my dear Ventimore," +explained Beevor, with a studious correctness which was only a shade +less offensive than open triumph. "I think I'd better leave you and this +gentleman to talk it over quietly."</p> + +<p>"Quietly?" exclaimed Mr. Wackerbath, with an apoplectic snort; "<i>quietly!!</i>"</p> + +<p>"I've no idea what you are so excited about, sir," said Horace. "Perhaps +you will explain?"</p> + +<p>"Explain!" Mr. Wackerbath gasped; "why—no, if I speak just now, I shall +be ill: <i>you</i> tell him," he added, waving a plump hand in Beevor's direction.</p> + +<p>"I'm not in possession of all the facts," said Beevor, smoothly; "but, +so far as I can gather, this gentleman thinks that, considering the +importance of the work<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> he intrusted to your hands, you have given less +time to it than he might have expected. As I have told him, that is a +matter which does not concern me, and which he must discuss with you."</p> + +<p>So saying, Beevor retired to his own room, and shut the door with the +same irreproachable discretion, which conveyed that he was not in the +least surprised, but was too much of a gentleman to show it.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Wackerbath," began Horace, when they were alone, "so you're +disappointed with the house?"</p> + +<p>"Disappointed!" said Mr. Wackerbath, furiously. "I am disgusted, sir, disgusted!"</p> + +<p>Horace's heart sank lower still; had he deceived himself after all, +then? Had he been nothing but a conceited fool, and—most galling +thought of all—had Beevor judged him only too accurately? And yet, no, +he could not believe it—he <i>knew</i> his work was good!</p> + +<p>"This is plain speaking with a vengeance," he said; "I'm sorry you're +dissatisfied. I did my best to carry out your instructions."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you did?" sputtered Mr. Wackerbath. "That's what you call—but go +on, sir, <i>go</i> on!"</p> + +<p>"I got it done as quickly as possible," continued Horace, "because I +understood you wished no time to be lost."</p> + +<p>"No one can accuse you of dawdling over it. What I should like to know +is how the devil you managed to get it done in the time?"</p> + +<p>"I worked incessantly all day and every day," said Horace. "That's how I +managed it—and this is all the thanks I get for it!"</p> + +<p>"Thanks?" Mr. Wackerbath well-nigh howled. "You—you insolent young +charlatan; you expect thanks!"</p> + +<p>"Now look here, Mr. Wackerbath," said Horace, whose own temper was +getting a little frayed. "I'm not accustomed to being treated like this, +and I don't intend to submit to it. Just tell me—in as moderate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> +language as you can command—what you object to?"</p> + +<p>"I object to the whole damned thing, sir! I mean, I repudiate the entire +concern. It's the work of a raving lunatic—a place that no English +gentleman, sir, with any self-respect or—ah!—consideration for his +reputation and position in the county, could consent to occupy for a single hour!"</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Horace, feeling deathly sick, "in that case it is useless, of +course, to suggest any modifications."</p> + +<p>"Absolutely!" said Mr. Wackerbath.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then; there's no more to be said," replied Horace. "You will +have no difficulty in finding an architect who will be more successful +in realising your intentions. Mr. Beevor, the gentleman you met just +now," he added, with a touch of bitterness, "would probably be just your +man. Of course I retire altogether. And really, if any one is the +sufferer over this, I fancy it's myself. I can't see how you are any the worse."</p> + +<p>"Not any the worse?" cried Mr. Wackerbath, "when the infernal place is built!"</p> + +<p>"Built!" echoed Horace feebly.</p> + +<p>"I tell you, sir, I saw it with my own eyes driving to the station this +morning; my coachman and footman saw it; my wife saw it—damn it, sir, +we <i>all</i> saw it!"</p> + +<p>Then Horace understood. His indefatigable Jinnee had been at work again! +Of course, for Fakrash it must have been what he would term "the easiest +of affairs"—especially after a glance at the plans (and Ventimore +remembered that the Jinnee had surprised him at work upon them, and even +requested to have them explained to him)—to dispense with contractors +and bricklayers and carpenters, and construct the entire building in the +course of a single night.</p> + +<p>It was a generous and spirited action—but, particularly now that the +original designs had been found faulty and rejected, it placed the +unfortunate architect in a most invidious position.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir," said Mr. Wackerbath, with elaborate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> irony, "I presume it +is you whom I have to thank for improving my land by erecting this +precious palace on it?"</p> + +<p>"I—I——" began Horace, utterly broken down; and then he saw, with +emotions that may be imagined, the Jinnee himself, in his green robes, +standing immediately behind Mr. Wackerbath.</p> + +<p>"Greeting to you," said Fakrash, coming forward with his smile of +amiable cunning. "If I mistake not," he added, addressing the startled +estate agent, who had jumped visibly, "thou art the merchant for whom my +son here," and he laid a hand on Horace's shrinking shoulder, "undertook +to construct a mansion?"</p> + +<p>"I am," said Mr. Wackerbath, in some mystification. "Have I the pleasure +of addressing Mr. Ventimore, senior?"</p> + +<p>"No, no," put in Horace; "no relation. He's a sort of informal partner."</p> + +<p>"Hast thou not found him an architect of divine gifts?" inquired the +Jinnee, beaming with pride. "Is not the palace that he hath raised for +thee by his transcendent accomplishments a marvel of beauty and +stateliness, and one that Sultans might envy?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir!" shouted the infuriated Mr. Wackerbath; "since you ask my +opinion, it's nothing of the sort! It's a ridiculous tom-fool cross +between the palm-house at Kew and the Brighton Pavilion! There's no +billiard-room, and not a decent bedroom in the house. I've been all over +it, so I ought to know; and as for drainage, there isn't a sign of it. +And he has the brass—ah, I should say, the unblushing effrontery—to +call that a country house!"</p> + +<p>Horace's dismay was curiously shot with relief. The Jinnee, who was +certainly very far from being a genius except by courtesy, had taken it +upon himself to erect the palace according to his own notions of Arabian +domestic luxury—and Horace, taught by bitter experience, could +sympathise to some extent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> with his unfortunate client. On the other +hand, it was balm to his smarting self-respect to find that it was not +his own plans, after all, which had been found so preposterous; and, by +some obscure mental process, which I do not propose to explain, he +became reconciled, and almost grateful, to the officious Fakrash. And +then, too, he was <i>his</i> Jinnee, and Horace had no intention of letting +him be bullied by an outsider.</p> + +<p>"Let me explain, Mr. Wackerbath," he said. "Personally I've had nothing +to do with this. This gentleman, wishing to spare me the trouble, has +taken upon himself to build your house for you, without consulting +either of us, and, from what I know of his powers in the direction, I've +no doubt that—that it's a devilish fine place, in its way. Anyhow, we +make no charge for it—he presents it to you as a free gift. Why not +accept it as such and make the best of it?"</p> + +<p>"Make the best of it?" stormed Mr. Wackerbath. "Stand by and see the +best site in three counties defaced by a jimcrack Moorish nightmare like +that! Why, they'll call it 'Wackerbath's Folly,' sir. I shall be the +laughing-stock of the neighbourhood. I can't live in the beastly +building. I couldn't afford to keep it up, and I won't have it cumbering +my land. Do you hear? <i>I won't!</i> I'll go to law, cost me what it may, +and compel you and your Arabian friends there to pull the thing down. +I'll take the case up to the House of Lords, if necessary, and fight you +as long as I can stand!"</p> + +<p>"As long as thou canst stand!" repeated Fakrash, gently. "That is a long +time truly, O thou litigious one!... On all fours, ungrateful dog that +thou art!" he cried, with an abrupt and entire change of manner, "and +crawl henceforth for the remainder of thy days. I, Fakrash-el-Aamash, command thee!"</p> + +<p>It was both painful and grotesque to see the portly and intensely +respectable Mr. Wackerbath suddenly drop forward on his hands while +desperately striving to preserve his dignity. "How dare you, sir?" he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +almost barked, "how <i>dare</i> you, I say? Are you aware that I could summon +you for this? Let me up. I <i>insist</i> upon getting up!"</p> + +<p>"O contemptible in aspect!" replied the Jinnee, throwing open the door. +"Begone to thy kennel."</p> + +<p>"I won't! I can't!" whimpered the unhappy man. "How do you expect +me—me!—to cross Westminster Bridge on all fours? What will the +officials think at Waterloo, where I have been known and respected for +years? How am I to face my family in—in this position? Do, for mercy's +sake, let me get up!"</p> + +<p>Horace had been too shocked and startled to speak before, but now +humanity, coupled with disgust for the Jinnee's high-handed methods, +compelled him to interfere. "Mr. Fakrash," he said, "this has gone far +enough. Unless you stop tormenting this unfortunate gentleman, I've done with you."</p> + +<p>"Never," said Fakrash. "He hath dared to abuse my palace, which is far +too sumptuous a dwelling for such a son of a burnt dog as he. Therefore, +I will make his abode to be in the dust for ever."</p> + +<p>"But I <i>don't</i> find fault," yelped poor Mr. Wackerbath. "You—you +entirely misunderstood the—the few comments I ventured to make. It's a +capital mansion, handsome, and yet 'homey,' too. I'll never say another +word against it. I'll—yes, I'll <i>live</i> in it—if only you'll let me up?"</p> + +<p>"Do as he asks you," said Horace to the Jinnee, "or I swear I'll never +speak to you again."</p> + +<p>"Thou art the arbiter of this matter," was the reply. "And if I yield, +it is at thy intercession, and not his. Rise then," he said to the +humiliated client; "depart, and show us the breadth of thy shoulders."</p> + +<p>It was this precise moment which Beevor, who was probably unable to +restrain his curiosity any longer, chose to re-enter the room. "Oh, +Ventimore," he began, "did I leave my——?... I beg your pardon. I +thought you were alone again."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p><p>"Don't go, sir," said Mr. Wackerbath, as he scrambled awkwardly to his +feet, his usually florid face mottled in grey and lilac. "I—I should +like you to know that, after talking things quietly over with your +friend Mr. Ventimore and his partner here, I am thoroughly convinced +that my objections were quite untenable. I retract all I said. The house +is—ah—admirably planned: <i>most</i> convenient, roomy, +and—ah—unconventional. The—the entire freedom from all sanitary +appliances is a particular recommendation. In short, I am more than +satisfied. Pray forget anything I may have said which might be taken to +imply the contrary.... Gentlemen, good afternoon!"</p> + +<p>He bowed himself past the Jinnee in a state of deference and +apprehension, and was heard stumbling down the staircase. Horace hardly +dared to meet Beevor's eyes, which were fixed upon the green-turbaned +Jinnee, as he stood apart in dreamy abstraction, smiling placidly to himself.</p> + +<p>"I say," Beevor said to Horace, at last, in an undertone, "you never +told me you had gone into partnership."</p> + +<p>"He's not a regular partner," whispered Ventimore; "he does odd things +for me occasionally, that's all."</p> + +<p>"He soon managed to smooth your client down," remarked Beevor.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Horace; "he's an Oriental, you see, and, he has a—a very +persuasive manner. Would you like to be introduced?"</p> + +<p>"If it's all the same to you," replied Beevor, still below his voice, +"I'd rather be excused. To tell you the truth, old fellow, I don't +altogether fancy the looks of him, and it's my opinion," he added, "that +the less you have to do with him the better. He strikes me as a wrong'un, old man."</p> + +<p>"No, no," said Horace; "eccentric, that's all—you don't understand him."</p> + +<p>"Receive news!" began the Jinnee, after Beevor, with suspicion and +disapproval evident even on his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> back and shoulders, had retreated to +his own room, "Suleyman, the son of Daood, sleeps with his fathers."</p> + +<p>"I know," retorted Horace, whose nerves were unequal to much reference +to Solomon just then. "So does Queen Anne."</p> + +<p>"I have not heard of her. But art thou not astounded, then, by my tidings?"</p> + +<p>"I have matters nearer home to think about," said Horace, dryly. "I must +say, Mr. Fakrash, you have landed me in a pretty mess!"</p> + +<p>"Explain thyself more fully, for I comprehend thee not."</p> + +<p>"Why on earth," Horace groaned, "couldn't you let me build that house my own way?"</p> + +<p>"Did I not hear thee with my own ears lament thy inability to perform +the task? Thereupon, I determined that no disgrace should fall upon thee +by reason of such incompetence, since I myself would erect a palace so +splendid that it should cause thy name to live for ever. And, behold, it is done."</p> + +<p>"It is," said Horace. "And so am I. I don't want to reproach you. I +quite feel that you have acted with the best intentions; but, oh, hang +it all! <i>can't</i> you see that you've absolutely wrecked my career as an architect?"</p> + +<p>"That is a thing that cannot be," returned the Jinnee, "seeing that thou +hast all the credit."</p> + +<p>"The credit! This is England, not Arabia. What credit can I gain from +being supposed to be the architect of an Oriental pavilion, which might +be all very well for Haroun-al-Raschid, but I can assure you is +preposterous as a home for an average Briton?"</p> + +<p>"Yet that overfed hound," remarked the Jinnee, "expressed much +gratification therewith."</p> + +<p>"Naturally, after he had found that he could not give a candid opinion +except on all-fours. A valuable testimonial, that! And how do you +suppose I can take his money? No, Mr. Fakrash, if I have to go on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +all-fours myself for it, I must say, and I will say, that you've made a +most frightful muddle of it!"</p> + +<p>"Acquaint me with thy wishes," said Fakrash, a little abashed, "for thou +knowest that I can refuse thee naught."</p> + +<p>"Then," said Horace, boldly, "couldn't you remove that palace—dissipate +it into space or something?"</p> + +<p>"Verily," said the Jinnee, in an aggravated tone, "to do good acts unto +such as thee is but wasted time, for thou givest me no peace till they are undone!"</p> + +<p>"This is the last time," urged Horace; "I promise never to ask you for +anything again."</p> + +<p>"Not for the first time hast thou made such a promise," said Fakrash. +"And save for the magnitude of thy service unto me, I would not hearken +to this caprice of thine, nor wilt thou find me so indulgent on another +occasion. But for this once"—and he muttered some words and made a +sweeping gesture with his right hand—"thy desire is granted unto thee. +Of the palace and all that is therein there remaineth no trace!"</p> + +<p>"Another surprise for poor old Wackerbath," thought Horace, "but a +pleasant one this time. My dear Mr. Fakrash," he said aloud, "I really +can't say how grateful I am to you. And now—I hate bothering you like +this, but if you <i>could</i> manage to look in on Professor Futvoye——"</p> + +<p>"What!" cried the Jinnee, "yet another request? Already!"</p> + +<p>"Well, you promised you'd do that before, you know!" said Horace.</p> + +<p>"For that matter," remarked Fakrash, "I have already fulfilled my promise."</p> + +<p>"You have?" Horace exclaimed. "And does he believe now that it's all +true about that bottle?"</p> + +<p>"When I left him," answered the Jinnee, "all his doubts were removed."</p> + +<p>"By Jove, you <i>are</i> a trump!" cried Horace, only too glad to be able to +commend with sincerity. "And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> do you think, if I went to him now, I +should find him the same as usual?"</p> + +<p>"Nay," said Fakrash, with his weak and yet inscrutable smile, "that is +more than I can promise thee."</p> + +<p>"But why?" asked Horace, "if he knows all?"</p> + +<p>There was the oddest expression in the Jinnee's furtive eyes: a kind of +elfin mischief combined with a sense of wrong-doing, like a naughty +child whose palate is still reminiscent of illicit jam. "Because," he +replied, with a sound between a giggle and a chuckle, "because, in order +to overcome his unbelief, it was necessary to transform him into a +one-eyed mule of hideous appearance."</p> + +<p>"<i>What!</i>" cried Horace. But, whether to avoid thanks or explanations, +the Jinnee had disappeared with his customary abruptness.</p> + +<p>"Fakrash!" shouted Horace, "Mr. Fakrash! Come back! Do you hear? I +<i>must</i> speak to you!" There was no answer; the Jinnee might be well on +his way to Lake Chad, or Jericho, by that time—he was certainly far +enough from Great Cloister Street.</p> + +<p>Horace sat down at his drawing-table, and, his head buried in his hands, +tried to think out this latest complication. Fakrash had transformed +Professor Futvoye into a one-eyed mule. It would have seemed incredible, +almost unthinkable, once, but so many impossibilities had happened to +Horace of late that one more made little or no strain upon his credulity.</p> + +<p>What he felt chiefly was the new barrier that this event must raise +between himself and Sylvia; to do him justice, the mere fact that the +father of his <i>fiancée</i> was a mule did not lessen his ardour in the +slightest. Even if he had felt no personal responsibility for the +calamity, he loved Sylvia far too well to be deterred by it, and few +family cupboards are without a skeleton of some sort.</p> + +<p>With courage and the determination to look only on the bright side of +things, almost any domestic drawback can be lived down.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p><p>But the real point, as he instantly recognised, was whether in the +changed condition of circumstances Sylvia would consent to marry <i>him</i>. +Might she not, after the experiences of that abominable dinner of his +the night before, connect him in some way with her poor father's +transformation? She might even suspect him of employing this means of +compelling the Professor to renew their engagement; and, indeed, Horace +was by no means certain himself that the Jinnee might not have acted +from some muddle-headed motive of this kind. It was likely enough that +the Professor, after learning the truth, should have refused to allow +his daughter to marry the <i>protégé</i> of so dubious a patron, and that +Fakrash had then resorted to pressure.</p> + +<p>In any case, Ventimore knew Sylvia well enough to feel sure that pride +would steel her heart against him so long as this obstacle remained.</p> + +<p>It would be unseemly to set down here all that Horace said and thought +of the person who had brought all this upon them, but after some wild +and futile raving he became calm enough to recognise that his proper +place was by Sylvia's side. Perhaps he ought to have told her at first, +and then she would have been less unprepared for this—and yet how could +he trouble her mind so long as he could cling to the hope that the +Jinnee would cease to interfere?</p> + +<p>But now he could be silent no longer; naturally the prospect of calling +at Cottesmore Gardens just then was anything but agreeable, but he felt +it would be cowardly to keep away.</p> + +<p>Besides, he could cheer them up; he could bring with him a message of +hope. No doubt they believed that the Professor's transformation would +be permanent—a harrowing prospect for so united a family; but, +fortunately, Horace would be able to reassure them on this point.</p> + +<p>Fakrash had always revoked his previous performances as soon as he could +be brought to understand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> their fatuity—and Ventimore would take good +care that he revoked this.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, it was with a sinking heart and an unsteady hand that he +pulled the visitors' bell at the Futvoyes' house that afternoon, for he +neither knew in what state he should find that afflicted family, nor how +they would regard his intrusion at such a time.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>THE MESSENGER OF HOPE</h3> + +<p>Jessie, the neat and pretty parlour-maid, opened the door with a smile +of welcome which Horace found reassuring. No girl, he thought, whose +master had suddenly been transformed into a mule could possibly smile +like that. The Professor, she told him, was not at home, which again was +comforting. For a <i>savant</i>, however careless about his personal +appearance, would scarcely venture to brave public opinion in the +semblance of a quadruped.</p> + +<p>"Is the Professor out?" he inquired, to make sure.</p> + +<p>"Not exactly out, sir," said the maid, "but particularly engaged, +working hard in his study, and not to be disturbed on no account."</p> + +<p>This was encouraging, too, since a mule could hardly engage in literary +labour of any kind. Evidently the Jinnee must either have overrated his +supernatural powers, or else have been deliberately amusing himself at +Horace's expense.</p> + +<p>"Then I will see Miss Futvoye," he said.</p> + +<p>"Miss Sylvia is with the master, sir," said the girl; "but if you'll +come into the drawing-room I'll let Mrs. Futvoye know you are here."</p> + +<p>He had not been in the drawing-room long before Mrs. Futvoye appeared, +and one glance at her face confirmed Ventimore's worst fears. Outwardly +she was calm enough, but it was only too obvious that her calmness was +the result of severe self-repression; her eyes, usually so shrewdly and +placidly observant, had a haggard and hunted look; her ears seemed on +the strain to catch some distant sound.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p><p>"I hardly thought we should see you to-day," she began, in a tone of +studied reserve; "but perhaps you came to offer some explanation of the +extraordinary manner in which you thought fit to entertain us last +night? If so——"</p> + +<p>"The fact is," said Horace, looking into his hat, "I came because I was +rather anxious about the Professor.</p> + +<p>"About my husband?" said the poor lady, with a really heroic effort to +appear surprised. "He is—as well as could be expected. Why should you +suppose otherwise?" she asked, with a flash of suspicion.</p> + +<p>"I fancied perhaps that—that he mightn't be quite himself to-day," said +Horace, with his eyes on the carpet.</p> + +<p>"I see," said Mrs. Futvoye, regaining her composure; "you were afraid +that all those foreign dishes might not have agreed with him. +But—except that he is a little irritable this afternoon—he is much as usual."</p> + +<p>"I'm delighted to hear it," said Horace, with reviving hope. "Do you +think he would see me for a moment?"</p> + +<p>"Great heavens, no!" cried Mrs. Futvoye, with an irrepressible start; "I +mean," she explained, "that, after what took place last night, +Anthony—my husband—very properly feels that an interview would be too painful."</p> + +<p>"But when we parted he was perfectly friendly."</p> + +<p>"I can only say," replied the courageous woman, "that you would find him +considerably altered now."</p> + +<p>Horace had no difficulty in believing it.</p> + +<p>"At least, I may see Sylvia?" he pleaded.</p> + +<p>"No," said Mrs. Futvoye; "I really can't have Sylvia disturbed just now. +She is very busy, helping her father. Anthony has to read a paper at one +of his societies to-morrow night, and she is writing it out from his dictation."</p> + +<p>If any departure from strict truth can ever be excusable, this surely +was one; unfortunately, just then Sylvia herself burst into the room.</p> + +<p>"Mother," she cried, without seeing Horace in her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> agitation, "do come +to papa, quick! He has just begun kicking again, and I can't manage him +alone.... Oh, <i>you</i> here?" she broke off, as she saw who was in the +room. "Why do you come here now, Horace? Please, <i>please</i> go away! Papa +is rather unwell—nothing serious, only—oh, <i>do</i> go away!"</p> + +<p>"Darling!" said Horace, going to her and taking both her hands, "I know +all—do you understand?—<i>all</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Mamma!" cried Sylvia, reproachfully, "have you told him—already? When +we settled that even Horace wasn't to know till—till papa recovers!"</p> + +<p>"I have told him nothing, my dear," replied her mother. "He can't +possibly know, unless—but no, that isn't possible. And, after all," she +added, with a warning glance at her daughter, "I don't know why we +should make any mystery about a mere attack of gout. But I had better go +and see if your father wants anything." And she hurried out of the room.</p> + +<p>Sylvia sat down and gazed silently into the fire. "I dare say you don't +know how dreadfully people kick when they've got gout," she remarked presently.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I do," said Horace, sympathetically; "at least, I can guess."</p> + +<p>"Especially when it's in both legs," continued Sylvia.</p> + +<p>"Or," said Horace gently, "in all four."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you <i>do</i> know!" cried Sylvia. "Then it's all the more horrid of you to come!"</p> + +<p>"Dearest," said Horace, "is not this just the time when my place should +be near you—and him?"</p> + +<p>"Not near papa, Horace!" she put in anxiously; "it wouldn't be at all safe."</p> + +<p>"Do you really think I have any fear for myself?"</p> + +<p>"Are you sure you quite know—what he is like now?"</p> + +<p>"I understand," said Horace, trying to put it as considerately as +possible, "that a casual observer, who didn't know your father, might +mistake him, at first sight, for—for some sort of quadruped."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p><p>"He's a mule," sobbed Sylvia, breaking down entirely. "I could bear it +better if he had been a <i>nice</i> mule.... B—but he isn't!"</p> + +<p>"Whatever he may be," declared Horace, as he knelt by her chair +endeavouring to comfort her, "nothing can alter my profound respect for +him. And you must let me see him, Sylvia; because I fully believe I +shall be able to cheer him up."</p> + +<p>"If you imagine you can persuade him to—to laugh it off!" said Sylvia, tearfully.</p> + +<p>"I wasn't proposing to try to make him see the humorous side of his +situation," Horace mildly explained. "I trust I have more tact than +that. But he may be glad to know that, at the worst, it is only a +temporary inconvenience. I'll take care that he's all right again before very long."</p> + +<p>She started up and looked at him, her eyes widened with dawning dread and mistrust.</p> + +<p>"If you can speak like that," she said, "it must have been <i>you</i> +who—no, I can't believe it—that would be too horrible!"</p> + +<p>"I who did <i>what</i>, Sylvia? Weren't you there when—when it happened?"</p> + +<p>"No," she replied. "I was only told of it afterwards. Mother heard papa +talking loudly in his study this morning, as if he was angry with +somebody, and at last she grew so uneasy she couldn't bear it any +longer, and went in to see what was the matter with him. Dad was quite +alone and looked as usual, only a little excited; and then, without the +slightest warning, just as she entered the room, he—he changed slowly +into a mule before her eyes! Anybody but mamma would have lost her head +and roused the whole house."</p> + +<p>"Thank Heaven she didn't!" said Horace, fervently. "That was what I was +most afraid of."</p> + +<p>"Then—oh, Horace, it <i>was</i> you! It's no use denying it. I feel more +certain of it every moment!"</p> + +<p>"Now, Sylvia!" he protested, still anxious, if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> possible, to keep the +worst from her, "what could have put such an idea as that into your head?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," she said slowly. "Several things last night. No one who +was really nice, and like everybody else, would live in such queer rooms +like those, and dine on cushions, with dreadful black slaves, and—and +dancing-girls and things. You pretended you were quite poor."</p> + +<p>"So I am, darling. And as for my rooms, and—and the rest, they're all +gone, Sylvia. If you went to Vincent Square to-day, you wouldn't find a +trace of them!"</p> + +<p>"That only shows!" said Sylvia. "But why should you play such a cruel, +and—and ungentlemanly trick on poor dad? If you had ever really loved +me——!"</p> + +<p>"But I do, Sylvia, you can't really believe me capable of such an +outrage! Look at me and tell me so."</p> + +<p>"No, Horace," said Sylvia frankly. "I don't believe <i>you</i> did it. But I +believe you know who <i>did</i>. And you had better tell me at once!"</p> + +<p>"If you're quite sure you can stand it," he replied, "I'll tell you +everything." And, as briefly as possible, he told her how he had +unsealed the brass bottle, and all that had come of it.</p> + +<p>She bore it, on the whole, better than he had expected; perhaps, being a +woman, it was some consolation to her to remind him that she had +foretold something of this kind from the very first.</p> + +<p>"But, of course, I never really thought it would be so awful as this!" +she said. "Horace, how <i>could</i> you be so careless as to let a great +wicked thing like that escape out of its bottle?"</p> + +<p>"I had a notion it was a manuscript," said Horace—"till he came out. +But he isn't a great wicked thing, Sylvia. He's an amiable old Jinnee +enough. And he'd do anything for me. Nobody could be more grateful and +generous than he has been."</p> + +<p>"Do you call it generous to change the poor, dear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> dad into a mule?" +inquired Sylvia, with a little curl of her upper lip.</p> + +<p>"That was an oversight," said Horace; "he meant no harm by it. In Arabia +they do these things—or used to in his day. Not that that's much excuse +for him. Still, he's not so young as he was, and besides, being bottled +up for all those centuries must have narrowed him rather. You must try +and make allowances for him, darling."</p> + +<p>"I shan't," said Sylvia, "unless he apologises to poor father, and puts +him right at once."</p> + +<p>"Why, of course, he'll do that," Horace answered confidently. "I'll see +that he does. I don't mean to stand any more of his nonsense. I'm afraid +I've been just a little too slack for fear of hurting his feelings; but +this time he's gone too far, and I shall talk to him like a Dutch uncle. +He's always ready to do the right thing when he's once shown where he +has gone wrong—only he takes such a lot of showing, poor old chap!"</p> + +<p>"But when do you think he'll—do the right thing?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, as soon as I see him again."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but when <i>will</i> you see him again?"</p> + +<p>"That's more than I can say. He's away just now—in China, or Peru, or somewhere."</p> + +<p>"Horace! Then he won't be back for months and months!"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, he will. He can do the whole trip, <i>aller et retour</i>, you know, +in a few hours. He's an active old beggar for his age. In the meantime, +dearest, the chief thing is to keep up your father's spirits. So I think +I'd better—— I was just telling Sylvia, Mrs. Futvoye," he said, as +that lady re-entered the room, "that I should like to see the Professor at once."</p> + +<p>"It's quite, <i>quite</i> impossible!" was the nervous reply. "He's in such a +state that he's unable to see any one. You don't know how fractious gout +makes him!"</p> + +<p>"Dear Mrs. Futvoye," said Horace, "believe me, I know more than you suppose."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p><p>"Yes, mother, dear," put in Sylvia, "he knows everything—<i>really</i> +everything. And perhaps it might do dad good to see him."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Futvoye sank helplessly down on a settee. "Oh, dear me!" she said. +"I don't know <i>what</i> to say. I really don't. If you had seen him plunge +at the mere suggestion of a doctor!"</p> + +<p>Privately, though naturally he could not say so, Horace thought a vet. +might be more appropriate, but eventually he persuaded Mrs. Futvoye to +conduct him to her husband's study.</p> + +<p>"Anthony, love," she said, as she knocked gently at the door, "I've +brought Horace Ventimore to see you for a few moments, if he may."</p> + +<p>It seemed from the sounds of furious snorting and stamping within, that +the Professor resented this intrusion on his privacy. "My dear Anthony," +said his devoted wife, as she unlocked the door and turned the key on +the inside after admitting Horace, "try to be calm. Think of the +servants downstairs. Horace is <i>so</i> anxious to help."</p> + +<p>As for Ventimore, he was speechless—so inexpressibly shocked was he by +the alteration in the Professor's appearance. He had never seen a mule +in sorrier condition or in so vicious a temper. Most of the lighter +furniture had been already reduced to matchwood; the glass doors of the +bookcase were starred or shivered; precious Egyptian pottery and glass +were strewn in fragments on the carpets, and even the mummy, though it +still smiled with the same enigmatic cheerfulness, seemed to have +suffered severely from the Professorial hoofs.</p> + +<p>Horace instinctively felt that any words of conventional sympathy would +jar here; indeed, the Professor's attitude and expression reminded him +irresistibly of a certain "Blondin Donkey" he had seen enacted by +music-hall artists, at the point where it becomes sullen and defiant. +Only, he had laughed helplessly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> at the Blondin Donkey, and somehow he +felt no inclination to laugh now.</p> + +<p>"Believe me, sir," he began, "I would not disturb you like this +unless—steady there, for Heaven's sake Professor, don't kick till +you've heard me out!" For, the mule, in a clumsy, shambling way which +betrayed the novice, was slowly revolving on his own axis so as to bring +his hind-quarters into action, while still keeping his only serviceable +eye upon his unwelcome visitor.</p> + +<p>"Listen to me, sir," said Horace, manœuvring in his turn. "I'm not to +blame for this, and if you brain me, as you seem to be endeavouring to +do, you'll simply destroy the only living man who can get you out of this."</p> + +<p>The mule appeared impressed by this, and backed cumbrously into a +corner, from which he regarded Horace with a mistrustful, but attentive, +eye. "If, as I imagine, sir," continued Horace, "you are, though +temporarily deprived of speech, perfectly capable of following an +argument, will you kindly signify it by raising your right ear?" The +mule's right ear rose with a sharp twitch.</p> + +<p>"Now we can get on," said Horace. "First let me tell you that I +repudiate all responsibility for the proceedings of that infernal +Jinnee.... I wouldn't stamp like that—you might go through the floor, +you know.... Now, if you will only exercise a little patience——"</p> + +<p>At this the exasperated animal made a sudden run at him with his mouth +open, which obliged Horace to shelter himself behind a large leather +arm-chair. "You really <i>must</i> keep cool, sir," he remonstrated; "your +nerves are naturally upset. If I might suggest a little champagne—you +could manage it in—in a bucket, and it would help you to pull yourself +together. A whisk of your—er—tail would imply consent." The +Professor's tail instantly swept some rare Arabian glass lamps and vases +from a shelf at his rear, whereupon Mrs. Futvoye went out, and returned +presently with a bottle of champagne and a large china <i>jardinière</i>,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> as +the best substitute she could find for a bucket.</p> + +<p>When the mule had drained the flower-pot greedily and appeared +refreshed, Horace proceeded: "I have every hope, sir," he said, "that +before many hours you will be smiling—pray don't prance like that, I +mean what I say—smiling over what now seems to you, very justly, a most +annoying and serious catastrophe. I shall speak seriously to Fakrash +(the Jinnee, you know), and I am sure that, as soon as he realises what +a frightful blunder he has made, he will be the first to offer you every +reparation in his power. For, old foozle as he is, he's thoroughly good-hearted."</p> + +<p>The Professor drooped his ears at this, and shook his head with a +doleful incredulity that made him look more like the Pantomime Donkey than ever.</p> + +<p>"I think I understand him fairly well by this time, sir," said Horace, +"and I'll answer for it that there's no real harm in him. I give you my +word of honour that, if you'll only remain quiet and leave everything to +me, you shall very soon be released from this absurd position. That's +all I came to tell you, and now I won't trouble you any longer. If you +<i>could</i> bring yourself, as a sign that you bear me no ill-feeling, to +give me your—your off-foreleg at parting, I——"</p> + +<p>But the Professor turned his back in so pointed and ominous a manner +that Horace judged it better to withdraw without insisting further. "I'm +afraid," he said to Mrs. Futvoye, after they had rejoined Sylvia in the +drawing-room—"I'm afraid your husband is still a little sore with me +about this miserable business."</p> + +<p>"I don't know what else you can expect," replied the lady, rather +tartly; "he can't help feeling—as we all must and do, after what you +said just now—that, but for you, this would never have happened!"</p> + +<p>"If you mean it was all through my attending that sale," said Horace, +"you might remember that I only went there at the Professor's request. +You know that, Sylvia."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p><p>"Yes, Horace," said Sylvia; "but papa never asked you to buy a hideous +brass bottle with a nasty Genius in it. And any one with ordinary common +sense would have kept it properly corked!"</p> + +<p>"What, you against me too, Sylvia!" cried Horace, cut to the quick.</p> + +<p>"No, Horace, never against you. I didn't mean to say what I did. Only it +<i>is</i> such a relief to put the blame on somebody. I know, I <i>know</i> you +feel it almost as much as we do. But so long as poor, dear papa remains +as he is, we can never be anything to one another. You must see that, Horace!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I see that," he said; "but trust me, Sylvia, he shall <i>not</i> remain +as he is. I swear he shall not. In another day or two, at the outside, +you will see him his own self once more. And then—oh, darling, darling, +you won't let anything or anybody separate us? Promise me that!"</p> + +<p>He would have held her in his arms, but she kept him at a distance. +"When papa is himself again," she said, "I shall know better what to +say. I can't promise anything now, Horace."</p> + +<p>Horace recognised that no appeal would draw a more definite answer from +her just then; so he took his leave, with the feeling that, after all, +matters must improve before very long, and in the meantime he must bear +the suspense with patience.</p> + +<p>He got through dinner as well as he could in his own rooms, for he did +not like to go to his club lest the Jinnee should suddenly return during his absence.</p> + +<p>"If he wants me he'd be quite equal to coming on to the club after me," +he reflected, "for he has about as much sense of the fitness of things +as Mary's lamb. I shouldn't care about seeing him suddenly bursting +through the floor of the smoking-room. Nor would the committee."</p> + +<p>He sat up late, in the hope that Fakrash would appear; but the Jinnee +made no sign, and Horace<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> began to get uneasy. "I wish there was some +way of ringing him up," he thought. "If he were only the slave of a ring +or a lamp, I'd rub it; but it wouldn't be any use to rub that +bottle—and, besides, he isn't a slave. Probably he has a suspicion that +he has not exactly distinguished himself over his latest feat, and +thinks it prudent to keep out of my way for the present. But if he +fancies he'll make things any better for himself by that he'll find himself mistaken."</p> + +<p>It was maddening to think of the unhappy Professor still fretting away +hour after hour in the uncongenial form of a mule, waiting impatiently +for the relief that never came. If it lingered much longer, he might +actually starve, unless his family thought of getting in some oats for +him, and he could be prevailed upon to touch them. And how much longer +could they succeed in concealing the nature of his affliction? How long +before all Kensington, and the whole civilised world, would know that +one of the leading Orientalists in Europe was restlessly prancing on +four legs around his study in Cottesmore Gardens?</p> + +<p>Racked by speculations such as these, Ventimore lay awake till well into +the small hours, when he dropped off into troubled dreams that, wild as +they were, could not be more grotesquely fantastic than the realities to +which they were the alternative.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>A CHOICE OF EVILS</h3> + +<p>Not even his morning tub could brace Ventimore's spirits to their usual +cheerfulness. After sending away his breakfast almost untasted he stood +at his window, looking drearily out over the crude green turf of Vincent +Square at the indigo masses of the Abbey and the Victoria Tower and the +huge gasometers to the right which loomed faintly through a dun-coloured haze.</p> + +<p>He felt a positive loathing for his office, to which he had gone with +such high hopes and enthusiasm of late. There was no work for him to do +there any longer, and the sight of his drawing-table and materials +would, he knew, be intolerable in their mute mockery.</p> + +<p>Nor could he with any decency present himself again at Cottesmore +Gardens while the situation still remained unchanged, as it must do +until he had seen Fakrash.</p> + +<p>When would the Jinnee return, or—horrible suspicion!—did he never +intend to return at all?</p> + +<p>"Fakrash!" he groaned aloud, "you <i>can't</i> really mean to leave me in +such a regular deuce of a hole as this?"</p> + +<p>"At thy service!" said a well-known voice behind him, and he turned to +see the Jinnee standing smiling on the hearthrug—and at this +accomplishment of his dearest desire all his indignation surged back.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>there</i> you are!" he said irritably. "Where on earth have you been +all this time?"</p> + +<p>"Nowhere on earth," was the bland reply; "but in the regions of the air, +seeking to promote thy welfare."</p> + +<p>"If you have been as brilliantly successful up there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> as you have down +here," retorted Horace, "I have much to thank you for."</p> + +<p>"I am more than repaid," answered the Jinnee, who, like many highly +estimable persons, was almost impervious to irony, "by such assurances +of thy gratitude."</p> + +<p>"I'm <i>not</i> grateful," said Horace, fuming. "I'm devilish annoyed!"</p> + +<p>"Well hath it been written," replied the Jinnee:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div>"'Be disregardful of thine affairs, and commit them to the course of Fate,</div> +<div>For often a thing that enrages thee may eventually be to thee pleasing.'"</div> +</div></div> + +<p>"I don't see the remotest chance of that, in my case," said Horace.</p> + +<p>"Why is thy countenance thus troubled, and what new complaint hast thou against me?"</p> + +<p>"What the devil do you mean by turning a distinguished and perfectly +inoffensive scholar into a wall-eyed mule?" Horace broke out. "If that +is your idea of a practical joke——!"</p> + +<p>"It is one of the easiest affairs possible," said the Jinnee, +complacently running his fingers through the thin strands of his beard. +"I have accomplished such transformations on several occasions."</p> + +<p>"Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself, that's all. The question is +now—how do you propose to restore him again?"</p> + +<p>"Far from undoing be that which is accomplished!" was the sententious answer.</p> + +<p>"What?" cried Horace, hardly believing his ears; "you surely don't mean +to allow that unhappy Professor to remain like that for ever, do you?"</p> + +<p>"None can alter what is predestined."</p> + +<p>"Very likely not. But it wasn't decreed that a learned man should be +suddenly degraded to a beastly mule for the rest of his life. Destiny +wouldn't be such a fool!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p><p>"Despise not mules, for they are useful and valuable animals in the +household."</p> + +<p>"But, confound it all, have you no imagination? Can't you enter at all +into the feelings of a man—a man of wide learning and +reputation—suddenly plunged into such a humiliating condition?"</p> + +<p>"Upon his own head be it," said Fakrash, coldly. "For he hath brought +this fate upon himself."</p> + +<p>"Well, how do you suppose that you have helped <i>me</i> by this performance? +Will it make him any the more disposed to consent to my marrying his +daughter? Is that all you know of the world?"</p> + +<p>"It is not my intention that thou shouldst take his daughter to wife."</p> + +<p>"Whether you approve or not, it's my intention to marry her."</p> + +<p>"Assuredly she will not marry thee so long as her father remaineth a mule."</p> + +<p>"There I agree with you. But is that your notion of doing me a good turn?"</p> + +<p>"I did not consider thy interest in this matter."</p> + +<p>"Then will you be good enough to consider it now? I have pledged my word +that he shall be restored to his original form. Not only my happiness is +at stake, but my honour."</p> + +<p>"By failure to perform the impossible none can lose honour. And this is +a thing that cannot be undone."</p> + +<p>"Cannot be undone?" repeated Horace, feeling a cold clutch at his heart. "Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because," said the Jinnee, sullenly, "I have forgotten the way."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" retorted Horace; "I don't believe it. Why," he urged, +descending to flattery, "you're such a clever old Johnny—I beg your +pardon, I meant such a clever old <i>Jinnee</i>—you can do anything, if you +only give your mind to it. Just look at the way you changed this house +back again to what it was. Marvellous!"</p> + +<p>"That was the veriest trifle," said Fakrash, though<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> he was obviously +pleased by this tribute to his talent; "this would be a different affair altogether."</p> + +<p>"But child's play to <i>you</i>!" insinuated Horace. "Come, you know very +well you can do it if you only choose."</p> + +<p>"It may be as thou sayest. But I do not choose."</p> + +<p>"Then I think," said Horace, "that, considering the obligation you admit +yourself you are under to me, I have a right to know the reason—the +<i>real</i> reason—why you refuse."</p> + +<p>"Thy claim is not without justice," answered the Jinnee, after a pause, +"nor can I decline to gratify thee."</p> + +<p>"That's right," cried Horace; "I knew you'd see it in the proper light +when it was once put to you. Now, don't lose any more time, but restore +that unfortunate man at once, as you've promised."</p> + +<p>"Not so," said the Jinnee; "I promised thee a reason for my refusal—and +that thou shalt have. Know then, O my son, that this indiscreet one had, +by some vile and unhallowed arts, divined the hidden meaning of what was +written upon the seal of the bottle wherein I was confined, and was +preparing to reveal the same unto all men."</p> + +<p>"What would it matter to you if he did?"</p> + +<p>"Much—for the writing contained a false and lying record of my actions."</p> + +<p>"If it is all lies, it can't do you any harm. Why not treat them with +the contempt they deserve?"</p> + +<p>"They are not <i>all</i> lies," the Jinnee admitted reluctantly.</p> + +<p>"Well, never mind. Whatever you've done, you've expiated it by this time."</p> + +<p>"Now that Suleyman is no more, it is my desire to seek out my kinsmen of +the Green Jinn, and live out my days in amity and honour. How can that +be if they hear my name execrated by all mortals?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody would think of execrating you about an affair three thousand +years old. It's too stale a scandal."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p><p>"Thou speakest without understanding. I tell thee that if men knew but +the half of my misdoings," said Fakrash, in a tone not altogether free +from a kind of sombre complacency, "the noise of them would rise even +unto the uppermost regions, and scorn and loathing would be my portion."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's not so bad as all that," said Horace, who had a private +impression that the Jinnee's "past" would probably turn out to be +chiefly made up of peccadilloes. "But, anyway, I'm sure the Professor +will readily agree to keep silence about it; and, as you have of course, +got the seal in your own possession again——"</p> + +<p>"Nay; the seal is still in his possession, and it is naught to me where +it is deposited," said Fakrash, "since the only mortal who hath +deciphered it is now a dumb animal."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said Horace. "There are several friends of his who could +decipher that inscription quite as easily as he did."</p> + +<p>"Is this the truth?" said the Jinnee, in visible alarm.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said Horace. "Within the last quarter of a century +archæology has made great strides. Our learned men can now read +Babylonian bricks and Chaldean tablets as easily as if they were +advertisements on galvanised iron. You may think you've been extremely +clever in turning the Professor into an animal, but you'll probably find +you've only made another mistake."</p> + +<p>"How so?" inquired Fakrash.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Horace, seeing his advantage, and pushing it +unscrupulously, "now, that, in your infinite wisdom, you have ordained +that he should be a mule, he naturally can't possess property. Therefore +all his effects will have to be sold, and amongst them will be that seal +of yours, which, like many other things in his collection, will probably +be bought up by the British Museum, where it will be examined and +commented<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> upon by every Orientalist in Europe. I suppose you've thought +of all that?"</p> + +<p>"O young man of marvellous sagacity!" said the Jinnee; "truly I had +omitted to consider these things, and thou hast opened my eyes in time. +For I will present myself unto this man-mule and adjure him to reveal +where he hath bestowed this seal, so that I may regain it."</p> + +<p>"He can't do that, you know, so long as he remains a mule."</p> + +<p>"I will endow him with speech for the purpose."</p> + +<p>"Let me tell you this," said Horace: "he's in a very nasty temper just +now, naturally enough, and you won't get anything out of him until you +have restored him to human form. If you do that, he'll agree to anything."</p> + +<p>"Whether I restore him or not will depend not on me, but on the damsel +who is his daughter, and to whom thou art contracted in marriage. For +first of all I must speak with her."</p> + +<p>"So long as I am present and you promise not to play any tricks," said +Horace, "I've no objection, for I believe, if you once saw her and heard +her plead for her poor father, you wouldn't have the heart to hold out +any longer. But you must give me your word that you'll behave yourself."</p> + +<p>"Thou hast it," said the Jinnee; "I do but desire to see her on thine account."</p> + +<p>"Very well," agreed Horace; "but I really can't introduce you in that +turban—she'd be terrified. Couldn't you contrive to get yourself up in +commonplace English clothes, just for once—something that wouldn't +attract so much attention?"</p> + +<p>"Will this satisfy thee?" inquired the Jinnee, as his green turban and +flowing robes suddenly resolved themselves into the conventional +chimney-pot hat, frock-coat, and trousers of modern civilisation.</p> + +<p>He bore a painful resemblance in them to the kind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> of elderly gentleman +who comes on in the harlequinade to be bonneted by the clown; but Horace +was in no mood to be critical just then.</p> + +<p>"That's better," he said encouragingly; "much better. Now," he added, as +he led the way to the hall and put on his own hat and overcoat, "we'll +go out and find a hansom and be at Kensington in less than twenty minutes."</p> + +<p>"We shall be there in less than twenty seconds," said the Jinnee, +seizing him by the arm above the elbow; and Horace found himself +suddenly carried up into the air and set down, gasping with surprise and +want of breath, on the pavement opposite the Futvoyes' door.</p> + +<p>"I should just like to observe," he said, as soon as he could speak, +"that if we've been seen, we shall probably cause a sensation. Londoners +are not accustomed to seeing people skimming over the chimney-pots like +amateur rooks."</p> + +<p>"Trouble not for that," said Fakrash, "for no mortal eyes are capable of +following our flight."</p> + +<p>"I hope not," said Horace, "or I shall lose any reputation I have left. +I think," he added, "I'd better go in alone first and prepare them, if +you don't mind waiting outside. I'll come to the window and wave my +pocket-handkerchief when they're ready. And <i>do</i> come in by the door +like an ordinary person, and ask the maidservant if you may see me."</p> + +<p>"I will bear it in mind," answered the Jinnee, and suddenly sank, or +seemed to sink, through a chink in the pavement.</p> + +<p>Horace, after ringing at the Futvoyes' door, was admitted and shown into +the drawing-room, where Sylvia presently came to him, looking as lovely +as ever, in spite of the pallor due to sleeplessness and anxiety. "It is +kind of you to call and inquire," she said, with the unnatural calm of +suppressed hysteria. "Dad is much the same this morning. He had a fairly +good night, and was able to take part of a carrot for breakfast—but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> +I'm afraid he has just remembered that he has to read a paper on +'Oriental Occultism' before the Asiatic Society this evening, and it's +worrying him a little.... Oh, Horace," she broke out, unexpectedly, "how +perfectly awful all this is! How <i>are</i> we to bear it?"</p> + +<p>"Don't give way, darling!" said Horace; "you will not have to bear it much longer."</p> + +<p>"It's all very well, Horace, but unless something is done <i>soon</i> it will +be too late. We can't go <i>on</i> keeping a mule in the study without the +servants suspecting something, and where are we to put poor, dear papa? +It's too ghastly to think of his having to be sent away to—to a Home of +Rest for Horses—and yet what <i>is</i> to be done with him?... Why do you +come if you can't do anything?"</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't be here unless I could bring you good news. You remember +what I told you about the Jinnee?"</p> + +<p>"Remember!" cried Sylvia. "As if I could forget! Has he really come back, Horace?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I think I have brought him to see that he has made a foolish +mistake in enchanting your unfortunate father, and he seems willing to +undo it on certain conditions. He is somewhere within call at this +moment, and will come in whenever I give the signal. But he wishes to +speak to you first."</p> + +<p>"To <i>me</i>? Oh, no, Horace!" exclaimed Sylvia, recoiling. "I'd so much +rather not. I don't like things that have come out of brass bottles. I +shouldn't know what to say, and it would frighten me horribly."</p> + +<p>"You must be brave, darling!" said Horace. "Remember that it depends on +you whether the Professor is to be restored or not. And there's nothing +alarming about old Fakrash, either, I've got him to put on ordinary +things, and he really doesn't look so bad in them. He's quite a mild, +amiable old noodle, and he'll do anything for you, if you'll only stroke +him down the right way. You <i>will</i> see him, won't you, for your father's sake?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p><p>"If I must," said Sylvia, with a shudder, "I—I'll be as nice to him as +I can."</p> + +<p>Horace went to the window and gave the signal, though there was no one +in sight. However, it was evidently seen, for the next moment there was +a resounding blow at the front door, and a little later Jessie, the +parlour-maid, announced "Mr. Fatrasher Larmash—to see Mr. Ventimore," +and the Jinnee stalked gravely in, with his tall hat on his head.</p> + +<p>"You are probably not aware of it, sir," said Horace, "but it is the +custom here to uncover in the presence of a lady." The Jinnee removed +his hat with both hands, and stood silent and impassive.</p> + +<p>"Let me present you to Miss Sylvia Futvoye," Ventimore continued, "the +lady whose name you have already heard."</p> + +<p>There was a momentary gleam in Fakrash's odd, slanting eyes as they +lighted on Sylvia's shrinking figure, but he made no acknowledgment of +the introduction.</p> + +<p>"The damsel is not without comeliness," he remarked to Horace; "but +there are lovelier far than she."</p> + +<p>"I didn't ask you for either criticisms or comparisons," said Ventimore, +sharply; "there is nobody in the world equal to Miss Futvoye, in my +opinion, and you will be good enough to remember that fact. She is +exceedingly distressed (as any dutiful daughter would be) by the cruel +and senseless trick you have played her father, and she begs that you +will rectify it at once. Don't you, Sylvia?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed!" said Sylvia, almost in a whisper, "if—if it isn't +troubling you too much!"</p> + +<p>"I have been turning over thy words in my mind," said Fakrash to Horace, +still ignoring Sylvia, "and I am convinced that thou art right. Even if +the contents of the seal were known of all men, they would raise no +clamour about affairs that concern them not. Therefore it is nothing to +me in whose hands the seal may be. Dost thou not agree with me in this?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p><p>"Of course I do," said Horace. "And it naturally follows that——"</p> + +<p>"It naturally follows, as thou sayest," said the Jinnee, with a cunning +assumption of indifference, "that I have naught to gain by demanding +back the seal as the price of restoring this damsel's father to his +original form. Wherefore, so far as I am concerned, let him remain a +mule for ever; unless, indeed, thou art ready to comply with my conditions."</p> + +<p>"Conditions!" cried Horace, utterly unprepared for this conclusion. +"What can you possibly want from me? But state them. I'll agree to +anything, in reason!"</p> + +<p>"I demand that thou shouldst renounce the hand of this damsel."</p> + +<p>"That's out of all reason," said Horace, "and you know it. I will never +give her up, so long as she is willing to keep me."</p> + +<p>"Maiden," said the Jinnee, addressing Sylvia for the first time, "the +matter rests with thee. Wilt thou release this my son from his contract, +since thou art no fit wife for such as he?"</p> + +<p>"How can I," cried Sylvia, "when I love him and he loves me? What a +wicked tyrannical old thing you must be to expect it! I <i>can't</i> give him up."</p> + +<p>"It is but giving up what can never be thine," said Fakrash. "And be not +anxious for him, for I will reward and console him a thousandfold for +the loss of thy society. A little while, and he shall remember thee no more."</p> + +<p>"Don't believe him, darling," said Horace; "you know me better than that."</p> + +<p>"Remember," said the Jinnee, "that by thy refusal thou wilt condemn thy +parent to remain a mule throughout all his days. Art thou so unnatural +and hard-hearted a daughter as to do this thing?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I couldn't!" cried Sylvia. "I can't let poor father remain a mule +all his life when one word—and yet what <i>am</i> I to do? Horace, what +shall I say? Advise me.... Advise me!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p><p>"Heaven help us both!" groaned Ventimore. "If I could only see the +right thing to do. Look here, Mr. Fakrash," he added, "this is a matter +that requires consideration. Will you relieve us of your presence for a +short time, while we talk it over?"</p> + +<p>"With all my heart," said the Jinnee, in the most obliging manner in the +world, and vanished instantly.</p> + +<p>"Now, darling," began Horace, after he had gone, "if that unspeakable +old scoundrel is really in earnest, there's no denying that he's got us +in an extremely tight place. But I can't bring myself to believe that he +<i>does</i> mean it. I fancy he's only trying us. And what I want you to do +is not to consider me in the matter at all."</p> + +<p>"How can I help it?" said poor Sylvia. "Horace, you—you don't <i>want</i> to +be released, do you?"</p> + +<p>"I?" said Horace, "when you are all I have in the world! That's so +likely, Sylvia! But we are bound to look facts in the face. To begin +with, even if this hadn't happened, your people wouldn't let our +engagement continue. For my prospects have changed again, dearest. I'm +even worse off than when we first met, for that confounded Jinnee has +contrived to lose my first and only client for me—the one thing worth +having he ever gave me." And he told her the story of the mushroom +palace and Mr. Wackerbath's withdrawal. "So you see, darling," he +concluded, "I haven't even a home to offer you; and if I had, it would +be miserably uncomfortable for you with that old Marplot continually +dropping in on us—especially if, as I'm afraid he has, he's taken some +unreasonable dislike to you."</p> + +<p>"But surely you can talk him over?" said Sylvia; "you said you could do +anything you liked with him."</p> + +<p>"I'm beginning to find," he replied, ruefully enough, "that he's not so +easily managed as I thought. And for the present, I'm afraid, if we are +to get the Professor out of this, that there's nothing for it but to +humour old Fakrash."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p><p>"Then you actually advise me to—to break it off?" she cried; "I never +thought you would do that!"</p> + +<p>"For your own sake," said Horace; "for your father's sake. If <i>you</i> +won't, Sylvia, I <i>must</i>. And you will spare me that? Let us both agree +to part and—and trust that we shall be united some day."</p> + +<p>"Don't try to deceive me or yourself, Horace," she said; "if we part +now, it will be for ever."</p> + +<p>He had a dismal conviction that she was right. "We must hope for the +best," he said drearily; "Fakrash may have some motive in all this we +don't understand. Or he may relent. But part we must, for the present."</p> + +<p>"Very well," she said. "If he restores dad, I will give you up. But not unless."</p> + +<p>"Hath the damsel decided?" asked the Jinnee, suddenly re-appearing; "for +the period of deliberation is past."</p> + +<p>"Miss Futvoye and I," Horace answered for her, "are willing to consider +our engagement at an end, until you approve of its renewal, on condition +that you restore her father at once."</p> + +<p>"Agreed!" said Fakrash. "Conduct me to him, and we will arrange the +matter without delay."</p> + +<p>Outside they met Mrs. Futvoye on her way from the study. "You here, +Horace?" she exclaimed. "And who is this—gentleman?"</p> + +<p>"This," said Horace, "is the—er—author of the Professor's misfortunes, +and he had come here at my request to undo his work."</p> + +<p>"It <i>would</i> be so kind of him!" exclaimed the distressed lady, who was +by this time far beyond either surprise or resentment. "I'm sure, if he +knew all we have gone through——!" and she led the way to her husband's room.</p> + +<p>As soon as the door was opened the Professor seemed to recognise his +tormentor in spite of his changed raiment, and was so powerfully +agitated that he actually<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> reeled on his four legs, and "stood over" in +a lamentable fashion.</p> + +<p>"O man of distinguished attainments!" began the Jinnee, "whom I have +caused, for reasons that are known unto thee, to assume the shape of a +mule, speak, I adjure thee, and tell me where thou hast deposited the +inscribed seal which is in thy possession."</p> + +<p>The Professor spoke; and the effect of articulate speech proceeding from +the mouth of what was to all outward seeming an ordinary mule was +strange beyond description. "I'll see you damned first," he said +sullenly. "You can't do worse to me than you've done already!"</p> + +<p>"As thou wilt," said Fakrash; "but unless I regain it, I will not +restore thee to what thou wast."</p> + +<p>"Well, then," said the mule, savagely, "you'll find it in the top +right-hand drawer of my writing-table: the key is in that diorite bowl +on the mantelpiece."</p> + +<p>The Jinnee unlocked the drawer, and took out the metal cap, which he +placed in the breast pocket of his incongruous frock-coat. "So far, +well," he said; "next thou must deliver up to me the transcription thou +hast made, and swear to preserve an inviolable secrecy regarding the +meaning thereof."</p> + +<p>"Do you know what you're asking, sir?" said the mule, laying back his +ears viciously. "Do you think that to oblige you I'm going to suppress +one of the most remarkable discoveries of my whole scientific career? +Never, sir—never!"</p> + +<p>"Since if thou refusest I shall assuredly deprive thee of speech once +more and leave thee a mule, as thou art now, of hideous appearance," +said the Jinnee, "thou art like to gain little by a discovery which thou +wilt be unable to impart. However, the choice rests with thee."</p> + +<p>The mule rolled his one eye, and showed all his teeth in a vicious +snarl. "You've got the whip-hand of me," he said, "and I may as well +give in. There's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> a transcript inside my blotting-case—it's the only +copy I've made."</p> + +<p>Fakrash found the paper, which he rubbed into invisibility between his +palms, as any ordinary conjurer might do.</p> + +<p>"Now raise thy right forefoot," he said, "and swear by all thou holdest +sacred never to divulge what thou hast learnt"—which oath the +Professor, in the vilest of tempers, took, clumsily enough.</p> + +<p>"Good," said the Jinnee, with a grim smile. "Now let one of thy women +bring me a cup of fair water."</p> + +<p>Sylvia went out, and came back with a cup of water. "It's filtered," she +said anxiously; "I don't know if that will do?"</p> + +<p>"It will suffice," said Fakrash. "Let both the women withdraw."</p> + +<p>"Surely," remonstrated Mrs. Futvoye, "you don't mean to turn his wife +and daughter out of the room at such a moment as this? We shall be +perfectly quiet, and we may even be of some help."</p> + +<p>"Do as you're told, my dear!" snapped the ungrateful mule; "do as you're +told. You'll only be in the way here. Do you suppose he doesn't know his +own beastly business?"</p> + +<p>They left accordingly; whereupon Fakrash took the cup—an ordinary +breakfast cup with a Greek key-border pattern in pale blue round the +top—and, drenching the mule with the contents, exclaimed, "Quit this +form and return to the form in which thou wast!"</p> + +<p>For a dreadful moment or two it seemed as if no effect was to be +produced; the animal simply stood and shivered, and Ventimore began to +feel an agonising suspicion that the Jinnee really had, as he had first +asserted, forgotten how to perform this particular incantation.</p> + +<p>All at once the mule reared, and began to beat the air frantically with +his fore-hoofs; after which he fell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> heavily backward into the nearest +armchair (which was, fortunately, a solid and capacious piece of +furniture) with his fore-legs hanging limply at his side, in a +semi-human fashion. There was a brief convulsion, and then, by some +gradual process unspeakably impressive to witness, the man seemed to +break through the mule, the mule became merged in the man—and Professor +Futvoye, restored to his own natural form and habit, sat gasping and +trembling in the chair before them.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>"SINCE THERE'S NO HELP, COME, LET US KISS AND PART!"</h3> + +<p>As soon as the Professor seemed to have regained his faculties, Horace +opened the door and called in Sylvia and her mother, who were, as was +only to be expected, overcome with joy on seeing the head of the family +released from his ignoble condition of a singularly ill-favoured quadruped.</p> + +<p>"There, there," said the Professor, as he submitted to their embraces +and incoherent congratulations, "it's nothing to make a fuss about. I'm +quite myself again, as you can see. And," he added, with an unreasonable +outburst of ill-temper, "if one of you had only had the common sense to +think of such a simple remedy as sprinkling a little cold water over me +when I was first taken like that, I should have been spared a great deal +of unnecessary inconvenience. But that's always the way with women—lose +their heads the moment anything goes wrong! If I had not kept perfectly +cool myself—"</p> + +<p>"It was very, very stupid of us not to think of it, papa," said Sylvia, +tactfully ignoring the fact that there was scarcely an undamaged article +in the room; "still, you know, if <i>we</i> had thrown the water it mightn't +have had the same effect."</p> + +<p>"I'm not in a condition to argue now," said her father; "you didn't +trouble to try it, and there's no more to be said."</p> + +<p>"No more to be said!" exclaimed Fakrash. "O thou monster of ingratitude, +hast thou no thanks for him who hath delivered thee from thy predicament?"</p> + +<p>"As I am already indebted to you, sir," said the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> Professor, "for about +twenty-four hours of the most poignant and humiliating mental and bodily +anguish a human being can endure, inflicted for no valid reason that I +can discover, except the wanton indulgence of your unholy powers, I can +only say that any gratitude of which I am conscious is of a very +qualified description. As for you, Ventimore," he added, turning to +Horace, "I don't know—I can only guess at—the part you have played in +this wretched business; but in any case you will understand, once for +all, that all relations between us must cease."</p> + +<p>"Papa," said Sylvia, tremulously, "Horace and I have already agreed +that—that we must separate."</p> + +<p>"At my bidding," explained Fakrash, suavely; "for such an alliance would +be totally unworthy of his merits and condition."</p> + +<p>This frankness was rather too much for the Professor, whose temper had +not been improved by his recent trials.</p> + +<p>"Nobody asked for your opinion, sir!" he snapped. "A person who has only +recently been released from a term of long and, from all I have been +able to ascertain, well-deserved imprisonment, is scarcely entitled to +pose as an authority on social rank. Have the decency not to interfere +again with my domestic affairs."</p> + +<p>"Excellent is the saying," remarked the imperturbable Jinnee, "'Let the +rat that is between the paws of the leopard observe rigidly all the +rules of politeness and refrain from words of provocation.' For to +return thee to the form of a mule once more would be no difficult undertaking."</p> + +<p>"I think I failed to make myself clear," the Professor hastened to +observe—"failed to make myself clear. I—I merely meant to congratulate +you on your fortunate escape from the consequences of what I—I don't +doubt was an error of justice. I—I am sure that, in the future, you +will employ your—your very remarkable abilities to better purpose, and +I would suggest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> that the greatest service you can do this unfortunate +young man here is to abstain from any further attempts to promote his interests."</p> + +<p>"Hear, hear!" Horace could not help throwing in, though in so discreet +an undertone that it was inaudible.</p> + +<p>"Far be this from me," replied Fakrash. "For he has become unto me even +as a favourite son, whom I design to place upon the golden pinnacle of +felicity. Therefore, I have chosen for him a wife, who is unto this +damsel of thine as the full moon to the glow-worm, and as the bird of +Paradise to an unfledged sparrow. And the nuptials shall be celebrated +before many hours."</p> + +<p>"Horace!" cried Sylvia, justly incensed, "why—<i>why</i> didn't you tell me +this before?"</p> + +<p>"Because," said the unhappy Horace, "this is the very first I've heard +of it. He's always springing some fresh surprise on me," he added, in a +whisper—"but they never come to anything much. And he can't marry me +against my will, you know."</p> + +<p>"No," said Sylvia, biting her lip. "I never supposed he could do that, +Horace."</p> + +<p>"I'll settle this at once," he replied. "Now, look here, Mr. Jinnee," he +added, "I don't know what new scheme you have got in your head—but if +you are proposing to marry me to anybody in particular——"</p> + +<p>"Have I not informed thee that I have it in contemplation to obtain for +thee the hand of a King's daughter of marvellous beauty and accomplishments?"</p> + +<p>"You know perfectly well you never mentioned it before," said Horace, +while Sylvia gave a little low cry.</p> + +<p>"Repine not, O damsel," counselled the Jinnee, "since it is for his +welfare. For, though as yet he believeth it not, when he beholds the +resplendent beauty of her countenance he will swoon away with delight +and forget thy very existence."</p> + +<p>"I shall do nothing of the sort," said Horace, savagely. "Just +understand that I don't intend to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> marry any Princess. You may prevent +me—in fact, you <i>have</i>—from marrying this lady, but you can't force me +to marry anybody else. I defy you!"</p> + +<p>"When thou hast seen thy bride's perfections thou wilt need no +compulsion," said Fakrash. "And if thou shouldst refuse, know this: that +thou wilt be exposing those who are dear to thee in this household to +calamities of the most unfortunate description."</p> + +<p>The awful vagueness of this threat completely crushed Horace; he could +not think, he did not even dare to imagine, what consequences he might +bring upon his beloved Sylvia and her helpless parents by persisting in his refusal.</p> + +<p>"Give me time," he said heavily; "I want to talk this over with you."</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, Ventimore," said the Professor, with acidulous politeness; +"but, interesting as the discussion of your matrimonial arrangements is +to you and your—a—protector, I should greatly prefer that you choose +some more fitting place for arriving at a decision which is in the +circumstances a foregone conclusion. I am rather tired and upset, and I +should be obliged if you and this gentleman could bring this most trying +interview to a close as soon as you conveniently can."</p> + +<p>"You hear, Mr. Fakrash?" said Horace, between his teeth, "it is quite +time we left. If you go at once, I will follow you very shortly."</p> + +<p>"Thou wilt find me awaiting thee," answered the Jinnee, and, to Mrs. +Futvoye's and Sylvia's alarm, disappeared through one of the bookcases.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Horace, gloomily, "you see how I'm situated? That obstinate +old devil has cornered me. I'm done for!"</p> + +<p>"Don't say that," said the Professor; "you appear to be on the eve of a +most brilliant alliance, in which I am sure you have our best +wishes—the best wishes of us all," he added pointedly.</p> + +<p>"Sylvia," said Horace, still lingering, "before I go,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> tell me that, +whatever I may have to do, you will understand that—that it will be for your sake!"</p> + +<p>"Please don't talk like that," she said. "We may never see one another +again. Don't let my last recollection of you be of—of a hypocrite, Horace!"</p> + +<p>"A hypocrite!" he cried. "Sylvia, this is too much! What have I said or +done to make you think me that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am not so simple as you suppose, Horace," she replied. "I see now +why all this has happened: why poor dad was tormented; why you insisted +on my setting you free. But I would have released you without <i>that</i>! +Indeed, all this elaborate artifice wasn't in the least necessary!"</p> + +<p>"You believe I was an accomplice in that old fool's plot?" he said. "You +believe me such a cur as that?"</p> + +<p>"I don't blame you," she said. "I don't believe you could help yourself. +He can make you do whatever he chooses. And then, you are so rich now, +it is natural that you should want to marry some one—some one more +suited to you—like this lovely Princess of yours."</p> + +<p>"Of mine!" groaned the exasperated Horace. "When I tell you I've never +even seen her! As if any Princess in the world would marry me to please +a Jinnee out of a brass bottle! And if she did, Sylvia, you can't +believe that any Princess would make me forget you!"</p> + +<p>"It depends so very much on the Princess," was all Sylvia could be induced to say.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Horace, "if that's all the faith you have in me, I suppose +it's useless to say any more. Good-bye, Mrs. Futvoye; good-bye, +Professor. I wish I could tell you how deeply I regret all the trouble I +have brought on you by my own folly. All I can say is, that I will bear +anything in future rather than expose you or any of you to the smallest risk."</p> + +<p>"I trust, indeed," said the Professor, stiffly, "that you will use all +the influence at your command to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> secure me from any repetition of an +experience that might well have unmanned a less equable temperament than +my own."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Horace," said Mrs. Futvoye, more kindly. "I believe you are +more to be pitied than blamed, whatever others may think. And <i>I</i> don't +forget—if Anthony does—that, but for you, he might, instead of sitting +there comfortably in his armchair, be lashing out with his hind legs and +kicking everything to pieces at this very moment!"</p> + +<p>"I deny that I lashed out!" said the Professor. "My—a—hind quarters +may have been under imperfect control—but I never lost my reasoning +powers or my good humour for a single instant. I can say that truthfully."</p> + +<p>If the Professor could say that truthfully amidst the general wreck in +which he sat, like another Marius, he had little to learn in the gentle +art of self-deception; but there was nothing to gain by contradicting him then.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Sylvia," said Horace, and held out his hand.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," she said, without offering to take it or look at him—and, +after a miserable pause, he left the study. But before he had reached +the front door he heard a swish and swirl of drapery behind him, and +felt her light hand on his arm. "Ah, no!" she said, clinging to him, "I +can't let you go like this. I didn't mean all the things I said just +now. I <i>do</i> believe in you, Horace—at least, I'll try hard to.... And I +shall always, <i>always</i> love you, Horace.... I shan't care—very +much—even if you do forget me, so long as you are happy.... Only don't +be <i>too</i> happy. Think of me sometimes!"</p> + +<p>"I shall <i>not</i> be too happy," he said, as he held her close to his heart +and kissed her pathetically drawn mouth and flushed cheeks. "And I shall +think of you always."</p> + +<p>"And you won't fall in love with your Princess?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> entreated Sylvia, at +the end of her altruism. "Promise!"</p> + +<p>"If I am ever provided with one," he replied, "I shall loathe her—for +not being you. But don't let us lose heart, darling. There must be some +way of talking that old idiot out of this nonsense and bringing him +round to common sense. I'm not going to give in just yet!"</p> + +<p>These were brave words—but, as they both felt, the situation had little +enough to warrant them, and, after one last long embrace, they parted, +and he was no sooner on the steps than he felt himself caught up as +before and borne through the air with breathless speed, till he was set +down, he could not have well said how, in a chair in his own +sitting-room at Vincent Square.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, looking at the Jinnee, who was standing opposite with a +smile of intolerable complacency, "I suppose you feel satisfied with +yourself over this business?"</p> + +<p>"It hath indeed been brought to a favourable conclusion," said Fakrash. +"Well hath the poet written——"</p> + +<p>"I don't think I can stand any more 'Elegant Extracts' this afternoon," +interrupted Horace. "Let us come to business. You seem," he went on, +with a strong effort to keep himself in hand, "to have formed some plan +for marrying me to a King's daughter. May I ask you for full particulars?"</p> + +<p>"No honour and advancement can be in excess of thy deserts," answered the Jinnee.</p> + +<p>"Very kind of you to say so—but you are probably unaware that, as +society is constituted at the present time, the objections to such an +alliance would be quite insuperable."</p> + +<p>"For me," said the Jinnee, "few obstacles are insuperable. But speak thy mind freely."</p> + +<p>"I will," said Horace. "To begin with, no European Princess of the Blood +Royal would entertain the idea for a moment. And if she did, she would +forfeit her rank and cease to be a Princess, and I should probably<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> be +imprisoned in a fortress for <i>lèse majesté</i> or something."</p> + +<p>"Dismiss thy fears, for I do not propose to unite thee to any Princess +that is born of mortals. The bride I intend for thee is a Jinneeyeh; the +peerless Bedeea-el-Jemal, daughter of my kinsman Shahyal, the Ruler of the Blue Jann."</p> + +<p>"Oh, is she, though?" said Horace, blankly. "I'm exceedingly obliged, +but, whatever may be the lady's attractions——"</p> + +<p>"Her nose," recited the Jinnee, with enthusiasm, "is like unto the keen +edge of a polished sword; her hair resembleth jewels, and her cheeks are +ruddy as wine. She hath heavy lips, and when she looketh aside she +putteth to shame the wild cows...."</p> + +<p>"My good, excellent friend," said Horace, by no means impressed by this +catalogue of charms, "one doesn't marry to mortify wild cows."</p> + +<p>"When she walketh with a vacillating gait," continued Fakrash, as though +he had not been interrupted, "the willow branch itself turneth green with envy."</p> + +<p>"Personally," said Horace, "a waddle doesn't strike me as particularly +fascinating—it's quite a matter of taste. Do you happen to have seen +this enchantress lately?"</p> + +<p>"My eyes have not been refreshed by her manifold beauties since I was +enclosed by Suleyman—whose name be accursed—in the brass bottle of +which thou knowest. Why dost thou ask?"</p> + +<p>"Merely because it occurred to me that, after very nearly three thousand +years, your charming kinswoman may—well, to put it as mildly as +possible, not have altogether escaped the usual effects of Time. I mean, +she must be getting on, you know!"</p> + +<p>"O, silly-bearded one!" said the Jinnee, in half-scornful rebuke; "art +thou, then, ignorant that we of the Jinn are not as mortals, that we +should feel the ravages of age?"</p> + +<p>"Forgive me if I'm personal," said Horace; "but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> surely your own hair +and beard might be described as rather inclining to grey."</p> + +<p>"Not from age," said Fakrash, "This cometh from long confinement."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Horace. "Like the Prisoner of Chillon. Well, assuming that +the lady in question is still in the bloom of early youth, I see one +fatal difficulty to becoming her suitor."</p> + +<p>"Doubtless," said the Jinnee, "thou art referring to Jarjarees, the son +of Rejmoos, the son of Iblees?"</p> + +<p>"No, I wasn't," said Horace; "because, you see, I don't remember having +ever heard of him. However, he's <i>another</i> fatal difficulty. That makes +two of them."</p> + +<p>"Surely I have spoken of him to thee as my deadliest foe? It is true +that he is a powerful and vindictive Efreet, who hath long persecuted +the beauteous Bedeea with hateful attentions. Yet it may be possible, by +good fortune, to overthrow him."</p> + +<p>"Then I gather that any suitor for Bedeea's hand would be looked upon as +a rival by the amiable Jarjarees?"</p> + +<p>"Far is he from being of an amiable disposition," answered the Jinnee, +simply, "and he would be so transported by rage and jealousy that he +would certainly challenge thee to mortal combat."</p> + +<p>"Then that settles it," said Horace. "I don't think any one can fairly +call me a coward, but I do draw the line at fighting an Efreet for the +hand of a lady I've never seen. How do I know he'll fight fair?"</p> + +<p>"He would probably appear unto thee first in the form of a lion, and if +he could not thus prevail against thee, transform himself into a +serpent, and then into a buffalo or some other wild beast."</p> + +<p>"And I should have to tackle the entire menagerie?" said Horace. "Why, +my dear sir, I should never get beyond the lion!"</p> + +<p>"I would assist thee to assume similar transformations," said the +Jinnee, "and thus thou mayst be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> enabled to defeat him. For I burn with +desire to behold mine enemy reduced to cinders."</p> + +<p>"It's much more likely that you would have to sweep <i>me</i> up!" said +Horace, who had a strong conviction that anything in which the Jinnee +was concerned would be bungled somehow. "And if you're so anxious to +destroy this Jarjarees, why don't you challenge him to meet you in some +quiet place in the desert and settle him yourself? It's much more in +your line than it is in mine!"</p> + +<p>He was not without hopes that Fakrash might act on this suggestion, and +that so he would be relieved of him in the simplest and most +satisfactory way; but any such hopes were as usual doomed to disappointment.</p> + +<p>"It would be of no avail," said the Jinnee, "for it hath been written of +old that Jarjarees shall not perish save by the hand of a mortal. And I +am persuaded that thou wilt turn out to be that mortal, since thou art +both strong and fearless, and, moreover, it is also predestined that +Bedeea shall wed one of the sons of men."</p> + +<p>"Then," said Horace, feeling that this line of defence must be +abandoned, "I fall back on objection number one. Even if Jarjarees were +obliging enough to retire in my favour, I should still decline to become +the—a—consort of a Jinneeyeh whom I've never seen, and don't love."</p> + +<p>"Thou hast heard of her incomparable charms, and verily the ear may love +before the eye."</p> + +<p>"It may," admitted Horace, "but neither of <i>my</i> ears is the least in +love at present."</p> + +<p>"These reasons are of no value," said Fakrash, "and if thou hast none +better——"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Ventimore, "I think I have. You profess to be anxious +to—to requite the trifling service I rendered you, though hitherto, +you'll admit yourself, you haven't made a very brilliant success of it. +But, putting the past aside," he continued, with a sudden dryness in his +throat; "putting the past aside, I ask<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> you to consider what possible +benefit or happiness such a match as this—I'm afraid I'm not so +fortunate as to secure your attention?" he broke off, as he observed the +Jinnee's eyes beginning to film over in the disagreeable manner +characteristic of certain birds.</p> + +<p>"Proceed," said Fakrash, unskinning his eyes for a second; "I am +hearkening unto thee."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me," stammered Horace, inconsequently enough, "that all +that time inside a bottle—well, you can't call it <i>experience</i> exactly; +and possibly in the interval you've forgotten all you knew about +feminine nature. I think you <i>must</i> have."</p> + +<p>"It is not possible that such knowledge should be forgotten," said the +Jinnee, resenting this imputation in quite a human way. "Thy words +appear to me to lack sense. Interpret them, I pray thee."</p> + +<p>"Why," explained Horace, "you don't mean to tell me that this young and +lovely relation of yours, a kind of immortal, and—and with the devil's +own pride, would be gratified by your proposal to bestow her hand upon +an insignificant and unsuccessful London architect? She'd turn up that +sharp and polished nose of hers at the mere idea of so unequal a match!"</p> + +<p>"An excellent rank is that conferred by wealth," remarked the Jinnee.</p> + +<p>"But I'm <i>not</i> rich, and I've already declined any riches from you," +said Horace. "And, what's more to the point, I'm perfectly and +hopelessly obscure. If you had the slightest sense of humour—which I +fear you have not—you would at once perceive the absurdity of proposing +to unite a radiant, ethereal, superhuman being to a commonplace +professional nonentity in a morning coat and a tall hat. It's really too ridiculous!"</p> + +<p>"What thou hast just said is not altogether without wisdom," said +Fakrash, to whom this was evidently a new point of view. "Art thou, +indeed, so utterly unknown?"</p> + +<p>"Unknown?" repeated Horace; "I should rather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> think I was! I'm simply an +inconsiderable unit in the population of the vastest city in the world; +or, rather, not a unit—a cipher. And, don't you see, a man to be worthy +of your exalted kinswoman ought to be a celebrity. There are plenty of them about."</p> + +<p>"What meanest thou by a celebrity?" inquired Fakrash, falling into the +trap more readily than Horace had ventured to hope.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, a distinguished person, whose name is on everybody's lips, +who is honoured and praised by all his fellow-citizens. Now, <i>that</i> kind +of man no Jinneeyeh could look down upon."</p> + +<p>"I perceive," said Fakrash, thoughtfully. "Yes, I was in danger of +committing a rash action. How do men honour such distinguished +individuals in these days?"</p> + +<p>"They generally overfeed them," said Horace. "In London the highest +honour a hero can be paid is to receive the freedom of the City, which +is only conferred in very exceptional cases, and for some notable +service. But, of course, there are other sorts of celebrities, as you +could see if you glanced through the society papers."</p> + +<p>"I cannot believe that thou, who seemest a gracious and talented young +man, can be indeed so obscure as thou hast represented."</p> + +<p>"My good sir, any of the flowers that blush unseen in the desert air, or +the gems concealed in ocean caves, so excellently described by one of +our poets, could give me points and a beating in the matter of +notoriety. I'll make you a sporting offer. There are over five million +inhabitants in this London of ours. If you go out into the streets and +ask the first five hundred you meet whether they know me, I don't mind +betting you—what shall I say? a new hat—that you won't find half a +dozen who've ever even heard of my existence. Why not go out and see for yourself?"</p> + +<p>To his surprise and gratification the Jinnee took this seriously. "I +will go forth and make inquiry," he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> said, "for I desire further +enlightenment concerning thy statements. But, remember," he added: +"should I still require thee to wed the matchless Bedeea-el-Jemal, and +thou shouldst disobey me, thou wilt bring disaster, not on thine own +head, but on those thou art most desirous of protecting."</p> + +<p>"Yes, so you told me before," said Horace, brusquely. "Good evening." +But Fakrash was already gone. In spite of all he had gone through and +the unknown difficulties before him, Ventimore was seized with what +Uncle Remus calls "a spell of the dry grins" at the thought of the +probable replies that the Jinnee would meet with in the course of his +inquiries. "I'm afraid he won't be particularly impressed by the +politeness of a London crowd," he thought; "but at least they'll +convince him that I am not exactly a prominent citizen. Then he'll give +up this idiotic match of his—I don't know, though. He's such a +pig-headed old fool that he may stick to it all the same. I may find +myself encumbered with a Jinneeyeh bride several centuries my senior +before I know where I am. No, I forget; there's the jealous Jarjarees to +be polished off first. I seem to remember something about a quick-change +combat with an Efreet in the "Arabian Nights." I may as well look it up, +and see what may be in store for me."</p> + +<p>And after dinner he went to his shelves and took down Lane's +three-volume edition of "The Arabian Nights," which he set himself to +study with a new interest. It was long since he had looked into these +wondrous tales, old beyond all human calculation, and fresher, even now, +than the most modern of successful romances. After all, he was tempted +to think, they might possess quite as much historical value as many +works with graver pretentions to accuracy.</p> + +<p>He found a full account of the combat with the Efreet in "The Story of +the Second Royal Mendicant" in the first volume, and was unpleasantly +surprised to discover that the Efreet's name was actually given as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> +"Jarjarees, the son of Rejmoos, the son of Iblees"—evidently the same +person to whom Fakrash had referred as his bitterest foe. He was +described as "of hideous aspect," and had, it seemed, not only carried +off the daughter of the Lord of the Ebony Island on her wedding night, +but, on discovering her in the society of the Royal Mendicant, had +revenged himself by striking off her hands, her feet, and her head, and +transforming his human rival into an ape. "Between this fellow and old +Fakrash," he reflected ruefully, at this point, "I seem likely to have a +fairly lively time of it!"</p> + +<p>He read on till he reached the memorable encounter between the King's +daughter and Jarjarees, who presented himself "in a most hideous shape, +with hands like winnowing forks, and legs like masts, and eyes like +burning torches"—which was calculated to unnerve the stoutest novice. +The Efreet began by transforming himself from a lion to a scorpion, upon +which the Princess became a serpent; then he changed to an eagle, and +she to a vulture; he to a black cat, and she to a cock; he to a fish, +and she to a larger fish still.</p> + +<p>"If Fakrash can shove me through all that without a fatal hitch +somewhere," Ventimore told himself, "I shall be agreeably disappointed +in him," But, after reading a few more lines, he cheered up. For the +Efreet finished as a flame, and the Princess as a "body of fire." "And +when we looked towards him," continued the narrator, "we perceived that +he had become a heap of ashes."</p> + +<p>"Come," said Horace to himself, "that puts Jarjarees out of action, any +way! The odd thing is that Fakrash should never have heard of it."</p> + +<p>But, as he saw on reflection, it was not so very odd, after all, as the +incident had probably happened after the Jinnee had been consigned to +his brass bottle, where intelligence of any kind would be most unlikely +to reach him.</p> + +<p>He worked steadily through the whole of the second<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> volume and part of +the third; but, although he picked up a certain amount of information +upon Oriental habits and modes of thought and speech which might come in +useful later, it was not until he arrived at the 24th Chapter of the +third volume that his interest really revived.</p> + +<p>For the 24th Chapter contained "The Story of Seyf-el-Mulook and +Bedeea-el-Jemal," and it was only natural that he should be anxious to +know all that there was to know concerning the antecedents of one who +might be his <i>fiancée</i> before long. He read eagerly.</p> + +<p>Bedeea, it appeared, was the lovely daughter of Shahyal, one of the +Kings of the Believing Jann; her father—not Fakrash himself, as the +Jinnee had incorrectly represented—had offered her in marriage to no +less a personage than King Solomon himself, who, however, had preferred +the Queen of Sheba. Seyf, the son of the King of Egypt, afterwards fell +desperately in love with Bedeea, but she and her grandmother both +declared that between mankind and the Jann there could be no agreement.</p> + +<p>"And Seyf was a King's son!" commented Horace. "I needn't alarm myself. +She wouldn't be likely to have anything to say to <i>me</i>. It's just as I told Fakrash."</p> + +<p>His heart grew lighter still as he came to the end, for he learnt that, +after many adventures which need not be mentioned here, the devoted Seyf +did actually succeed in gaining the proud Bedeea as his wife. "Even +Fakrash could not propose to marry me to some one who has a husband +already," he thought. "Still, she <i>may</i> be a widow!"</p> + +<p>To his relief, however, the conclusion ran thus; "Seyf-el-Mulook lived +with Bedeea-el-Jemal a most pleasant and agreeable life ... until they +were visited by the terminator of delights and the separator of companions."</p> + +<p>"If that means anything at all," he reasoned, "it means that Seyf and +Bedeea are both deceased. Even<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> Jinneeyeh seem to be mortal. Or perhaps +she became so by marrying a mortal; I dare say that Fakrash himself +wouldn't have lasted all this time if he hadn't been bottled, like a +tinned tomato. But I'm glad I found this out, because Fakrash is +evidently unaware of it, and, if he <i>should</i> persist in any more of this +nonsense, I think I see my way now to getting the better of him."</p> + +<p>So, with renewed hope and in vastly improved spirits, he went to bed and +was soon sound asleep.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>BLUSHING HONOURS</h3> + +<p>It was rather late the next morning when Ventimore opened his eyes, to +discover the Jinnee standing by the foot of his bed. "Oh, it's <i>you</i>, is +it?" he said sleepily. "How did you—a—get on last night?"</p> + +<p>"I gained such information as I desired," said Fakrash, guardedly; "and +now, for the last time, I am come to ask thee whether thou wilt still +persist in refusing to wed the illustrious Bedeea-el-Jemal? And have a +care how thou answerest."</p> + +<p>"So you haven't given up the idea?" said Horace. "Well, since you make +such a point of it, I'll meet you as far as this. If you produce the +lady, and she consents to marry me, I won't decline the honour. But +there's one condition I really <i>must</i> insist on."</p> + +<p>"It is not for thee to make stipulations. Still, yet this once I will +hear thee."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure you'll see that it's only fair. Supposing, for any reason, you +can't persuade the Princess to meet me within a reasonable time—shall +we say a week?——"</p> + +<p>"Thou shalt be admitted to her presence within twenty-four hours," said the Jinnee.</p> + +<p>"That's better still. Then, if I don't see her within twenty-four hours, +I am to be at liberty to infer that the negotiations are off, and I may +marry anybody else I please, without any opposition from you? Is that +understood?"</p> + +<p>"It is agreed," said Fakrash, "for I am confident that Bedeea will +accept thee joyfully."</p> + +<p>"We shall see," said Horace. "But it might be as well if you went and +prepared her a little. I suppose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> you know where to find her—and you've +only twenty-four hours, you know."</p> + +<p>"More than is needed," answered the Jinnee, with such childlike +confidence, that Horace felt almost ashamed of so easy a victory. "But +the sun is already high. Arise, my son, put on these robes"—and with +this he flung on the bed the magnificent raiment which Ventimore had +last worn on the night of his disastrous entertainment—"and when thou +hast broken thy fast, prepare to accompany me."</p> + +<p>"Before I agree to that," said Horace, sitting up in bed, "I should like +to know where you're taking me to."</p> + +<p>"Obey me without demur," said Fakrash, "or thou knowest the consequences."</p> + +<p>It seemed to Horace that it was as well to humour him, and he got up +accordingly, washed and shaved, and, putting on his dazzling robe of +cloth-of-gold thickly sewn with gems, he joined Fakrash—who, by the +way, was similarly, if less gorgeously, arrayed—in the sitting-room, in +a state of some mystification.</p> + +<p>"Eat quickly," commanded the Jinnee, "for the time is short." And +Horace, after hastily disposing of a cold poached egg and a cup of +coffee, happened to go to the windows.</p> + +<p>"Good Heavens!" he cried. "What does all this mean?"</p> + +<p>He might well ask. On the opposite side of the road, by the railings of +the square, a large crowd had collected, all staring at the house in +eager expectation. As they caught sight of him they raised a cheer, +which caused him to retreat in confusion, but not before he had seen a +great golden chariot with six magnificent coal-black horses, and a suite +of swarthy attendants in barbaric liveries, standing by the pavement +below. "Whose carriage is that?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"It belongs to thee," said the Jinnee; "descend then, and make thy +progress in it through the City."</p> + +<p>"I will not," said Horace. "Even to oblige you I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> simply can't drive +along the streets in a thing like the band-chariot of a travelling circus."</p> + +<p>"It is necessary," declared Fakrash. "Must I again recall to thee the +penalty of disobedience?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well," said Horace, irritably. "If you insist on my making a +fool of myself, I suppose I must. But where am I to drive, and why?"</p> + +<p>"That," replied Fakrash, "thou shalt discover at the fitting moment." +And so, amidst the shouts of the spectators, Ventimore climbed up into +the strange-looking vehicle, while the Jinnee took his seat by his side. +Horace had a parting glimpse of Mr. and Mrs. Rapkin's respective noses +flattened against the basement window, and then two dusky slaves mounted +to a seat at the back of the chariot, and the horses started off at a +stately trot in the direction of Rochester Row.</p> + +<p>"I think you might tell me what all this means," he said. "You've no +conception what an ass I feel, stuck up here like this!"</p> + +<p>"Dismiss bashfulness from thee, since all this is designed to render +thee more acceptable in the eyes of the Princess Bedeea," said the Jinnee.</p> + +<p>Horace said no more, though he could not but think that this parade +would be thrown away.</p> + +<p>But as they turned into Victoria Street and seemed to be heading +straight for the Abbey, a horrible thought occurred to him. After all, +his only authority for the marriage and decease of Bedeea was the +"Arabian Nights," which was not unimpeachable evidence. What if she were +alive and waiting for the arrival of the bridegroom? No one but Fakrash +would have conceived such an idea as marrying him to a Jinneeyeh in +Westminster Abbey; but he was capable of any extravagance, and there +were apparently no limits to his power.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Fakrash," he said hoarsely, "surely this isn't my—my wedding day? +You're not going to have the ceremony <i>there</i>?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p><p>"Nay," said the Jinnee, "be not impatient. For this edifice would be +totally unfitted for the celebration of such nuptials as thine."</p> + +<p>As he spoke, the chariot left the Abbey on the right and turned down the +Embankment. The relief was so intense that Horace's spirits rose +irrepressibly. It was absurd to suppose that even Fakrash could have +arranged the ceremony in so short a time. He was merely being taken for +a drive, and fortunately his best friends could not recognise him in his +Oriental disguise. And it was a glorious morning, with a touch of frost +in the air and a sky of streaky turquoise and pale golden clouds; the +broad river glittered in the sunshine; the pavements were lined with +admiring crowds, and the carriage rolled on amidst frantic enthusiasm, +like some triumphal car.</p> + +<p>"How they're cheering us!" said Horace. "Why, they couldn't make more +row for the Lord Mayor himself."</p> + +<p>"What is this Lord Mayor of whom thou speakest?" inquired Fakrash.</p> + +<p>"The Lord Mayor?" said Horace. "Oh, he's unique. There's nobody in the +world quite like him. He administers the law, and if there's any +distress in any part of the earth he relieves it. He entertains monarchs +and Princes and all kinds of potentates at his banquets, and altogether +he's a tremendous swell."</p> + +<p>"Hath he dominion over the earth and the air and all that is therein?"</p> + +<p>"Within his own precincts, I believe he has," said Horace, rather +lazily, "but I really don't know precisely how wide his powers are." He +was vainly trying to recollect whether such matters as sky-signs, +telephones, and telegraphs in the City were within the Lord Mayor's +jurisdiction or the County Council's.</p> + +<p>Fakrash remained silent just as they were driving underneath Charing +Cross Railway Bridge, when he started perceptibly at the thunder of the +trains overhead<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> and the piercing whistles of the engines. "Tell me," he +said, clutching Horace by the arm, "what meaneth this?"</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to say," said Horace, "that you have been about London +all these days, and never noticed things like these before?"</p> + +<p>"Till now," said the Jinnee, "I have had no leisure to observe them and +discover their nature."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Horace, anxious to let the Jinnee see that he had not the +monopoly of miracles, "since your days we have discovered how to tame or +chain the great forces of Nature and compel them to do our will. We +control the Spirits of Earth, Air, Fire, and Water, and make them give +us light and heat, carry our messages, fight our quarrels for us, +transport us wherever we wish to go, with a certainty and precision that +throw even your performances, my dear sir, entirely into the shade."</p> + +<p>Considering what a very large majority of civilised persons would be as +powerless to construct the most elementary machine as to create the +humblest kind of horse, it is not a little odd how complacently we +credit ourselves with all the latest achievements of our generation. +Most of us accept the amazement of the simple-minded barbarian on his +first introduction to modern inventions as a gratifying personal +tribute: we feel a certain superiority, even if we magnanimously refrain +from boastfulness. And yet our own particular share in these discoveries +is limited to making use of them under expert guidance, which any +barbarian, after overcoming his first terror, is quite as competent to +do as we are.</p> + +<p>It is a harmless vanity enough, and especially pardonable in Ventimore's +case, when it was so desirable to correct any tendency to "uppishness" +on the part of the Jinnee.</p> + +<p>"And doth the Lord Mayor dispose of these forces at his will?" inquired +Fakrash, on whom Ventimore's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> explanation had evidently produced some +impression.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said Horace; "whenever he has occasion."</p> + +<p>The Jinnee seemed engrossed in his own thoughts, for he said no more just then.</p> + +<p>They were now nearing St. Paul's Cathedral, and Horace's first suspicion +returned with double force.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Fakrash, answer me," he said. "Is this my wedding day or not? If it +is, it's time I was told!"</p> + +<p>"Not yet," said the Jinnee, enigmatically, and indeed it proved to be +another false alarm, for they turned down Cannon Street and towards the +Mansion House.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you can tell me why we're going through Victoria Street, and +what all this crowd has come out for?" asked Ventimore. For the throng +was denser than ever; the people surged and swayed in serried ranks +behind the City police, and gazed with a wonder and awe that for once +seemed to have entirely silenced the Cockney instinct of <i>persiflage</i>.</p> + +<p>"For what else but to do thee honour?" answered Fakrash.</p> + +<p>"What bosh!" said Horace. "They mistake me for the Shah or somebody—and +no wonder, in this get-up."</p> + +<p>"Not so," said the Jinnee. "Thy names are familiar to them."</p> + +<p>Horace glanced up at the hastily improvised decorations; on one large +strip of bunting which spanned the street he read: "Welcome to the +City's most distinguished guest!" "They can't mean me," he thought; and +then another legend caught his eye: "Well done, Ventimore!" And an +enthusiastic householder next door had burst into poetry and displayed +the couplet—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<div>"Would we had twenty more</div> +<div>Like Horace Ventimore!"</div> +</div></div> + +<p>"They <i>do</i> mean me!" he exclaimed. "Now, Mr. Fakrash, <i>will</i> you kindly +explain what tomfoolery you've been up to now? I know you're at the +bottom of this business."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p><p>It struck him that the Jinnee was slightly embarrassed. "Didst thou not +say," he replied, "that he who should receive the freedom of the City +from his fellow-men would be worthy of Bedeea-el-Jemal?"</p> + +<p>"I may have said something of the sort. But, good heavens! you don't +mean that you have contrived that <i>I</i> should receive the freedom of the City?"</p> + +<p>"It was the easiest affair possible," said the Jinnee, but he did not +attempt to meet Horace's eye.</p> + +<p>"Was it, though?" said Horace, in a white rage. "I don't want to be +inquisitive, but I should like to know what I've done to deserve it?"</p> + +<p>"Why trouble thyself with the reason? Let it suffice thee that such +honour is bestowed upon thee."</p> + +<p>By this time the chariot had crossed Cheapside and was entering King Street.</p> + +<p>"This really won't do!" urged Horace. "It's not fair to me. Either I've +done something, or you must have made the Corporation <i>believe</i> I've +done something, to be received like this. And, as we shall be in the +Guildhall in a very few seconds, you may as well tell me what it is!"</p> + +<p>"Regarding that matter," replied the Jinnee, in some confusion, "I am +truly as ignorant as thyself."</p> + +<p>As he spoke they drove through some temporary wooden gates into the +courtyard, where the Honourable Artillery Company presented arms to +them, and the carriage drew up before a large marquee decorated with +shields and clustered banners.</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Fakrash," said Horace, with suppressed fury, as he alighted, +"you have surpassed yourself this time. You've got me into a nice +scrape, and you'll have to pull me through it as well as you can."</p> + +<p>"Have no uneasiness," said the Jinnee, as he accompanied his <i>protégé</i> +into the marquee, which was brilliant with pretty women in smart frocks, +officers in scarlet tunics and plumed hats, and servants in State liveries.</p> + +<p>Their entrance was greeted by a politely-subdued<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> buzz of applause and +admiration, and an official, who introduced himself as the Prime Warden +of the Candlestick-makers' Company, advanced to meet them. "The Lord +Mayor will receive you in the library," he said. "If you will have the +kindness to follow me——"</p> + +<p>Horace followed him mechanically. "I'm in for it now," he thought, +"whatever it is. If I can only trust Fakrash to back me up—but I'm +hanged if I don't believe he's more nervous than I am!"</p> + +<p>As they came into the noble Library of the Guildhall a fine string band +struck up, and Horace, with the Jinnee in his rear, made his way through +a lane of distinguished spectators towards a dais, on the steps of +which, in his gold-trimmed robes and black-feather hat, stood the Lord +Mayor, with his sword and mace-bearers on either hand, and behind him a +row of beaming sheriffs.</p> + +<p>A truly stately and imposing figure did the Chief Magistrate for that +particular year present: tall, dignified, with a lofty forehead whose +polished temples reflected the light, an aquiline nose, and piercing +black eyes under heavy white eyebrows, a frosty pink in his wrinkled +cheeks, and a flowing silver beard with a touch of gold still lingering +under the lower lip: he seemed, as he stood there, a worthy +representative of the greatest and richest city in the world.</p> + +<p>Horace approached the steps with an unpleasant sensation of weakness at +the knees, and no sort of idea what he was expected to do or say when he arrived.</p> + +<p>And, in his perplexity, he turned for support and guidance to his +self-constituted mentor—only to discover that the Jinnee, whose +short-sightedness and ignorance had planted him in this present false +position, had mysteriously and perfidiously disappeared, and left him to +grapple with the situation single-handed.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>A KILLING FROST</h3> + +<p>Fortunately for Ventimore, the momentary dismay he had felt on finding +himself deserted by his unfathomable Jinnee at the very outset of the +ceremony passed unnoticed, as the Prime Warden of the +Candlestick-makers' Company immediately came to his rescue by briefly +introducing him to the Lord Mayor, who, with dignified courtesy, had +descended to the lowest step of the dais to receive him.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ventimore," said the Chief Magistrate, cordially, as he pressed +Horace's hand, "you must allow me to say that I consider this one of the +greatest privileges—if not <i>the</i> greatest privilege—that have fallen +to my lot during a term of office in which I have had the honour of +welcoming more than the usual number of illustrious visitors."</p> + +<p>"My Lord Mayor," said Horace, with absolute sincerity, "you really +overwhelm me. I—I only wish I could feel that I had done anything to +deserve this—this magnificent compliment!"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" replied the Lord Mayor, in a paternally rallying tone. "Modest, my +dear sir, I perceive. Like all truly great men! A most admirable trait! +Permit me to present you to the Sheriffs."</p> + +<p>The Sheriffs appeared highly delighted. Horace shook hands with both of +them; indeed, in the flurry of the moment he very nearly offered to do +so with the Sword and Mace bearers as well, but their hands were, as it +happened, otherwise engaged.</p> + +<p>"The actual presentation," said the Lord Mayor, "takes place in the +Great Hall, as you are doubtless aware."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p><p>"I—I have been given to understand so," said Horace, with a sinking +heart—for he had begun to hope that the worst was over.</p> + +<p>"But before we adjourn," said his host, "you will let me tempt you to +partake of some slight refreshment—just a snack?"</p> + +<p>Horace was not hungry, but it occurred to him that he might get through +the ceremony with more credit after a glass of champagne; so he accepted +the invitation, and was conducted to an extemporised buffet at one end +of the Library, where he fortified himself for the impending ordeal with +a <i>caviare</i> sandwich and a bumper of the driest champagne in the +Corporation cellars.</p> + +<p>"They talk of abolishing us," said the Lord Mayor, as he took an anchovy +on toast; "but I maintain, Mr. Ventimore—I maintain that we, with our +ancient customs, our time-honoured traditions, form a link with the +past, which a wise statesman will preserve, if I may employ a somewhat +vulgar term, untinkered with."</p> + +<p>Horace agreed, remembering a link with a far more ancient past with +which he devoutly wished he had refrained from tinkering.</p> + +<p>"Talking of ancient customs," the Lord Mayor continued, with an odd +blend of pride and apology, "you will shortly have an illustration of +our antiquated procedure, which may impress you as quaint."</p> + +<p>Horace, feeling absolutely idiotic, murmured that he felt sure it would do that.</p> + +<p>"Before presenting you for the freedom, the Prime Warden and five +officials of the Candlestick-makers' Company will give their testimony +as compurgators in your favour, making oath that you are 'a man of good +name and fame,' and that (you will be amused at this, Mr. +Ventimore)—that you 'do desire the freedom of this city, whereby to +defraud the Queen or the City.' Ha, ha! Curious way of putting it, is it not?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p><p>"Very," said Horace, guiltily, and not a little concerned on the +official's account.</p> + +<p>"A mere form!" said the Lord Mayor; "but I for one, Mr. Ventimore—I for +one should be sorry to see the picturesque old practices die out. To my +mind," he added, as he finished a <i>pâté de foie gras</i> sandwich, "the +modern impatience to sweep away all the ancient landmarks (whether they +be superannuated or not) is one of the most disquieting symptoms of the +age. You won't have any more champagne? Then I think we had better be +making our way to the Great Hall for the Event of the Day."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid," said Horace, with a sudden consciousness of his +incongruously Oriental attire—"I'm afraid this is not quite the sort of +dress for such a ceremony. If I had known——"</p> + +<p>"Now, don't say another word!" said the Lord Mayor. "Your costume is +very nice—very nice indeed, and—and most appropriate, I am sure. But I +see the City Marshal is waiting for us to head the procession. Shall we lead the way?"</p> + +<p>The band struck up the March of the Priests from <i>Athalie</i>, and Horace, +his head in a whirl, walked with his host, followed by the City Lands +Committee, the Sheriffs, and other dignitaries, through the Art Gallery +and into the Great Hall, where their entrance was heralded by a flourish of trumpets.</p> + +<p>The Hall was crowded, and Ventimore found himself the object of a +popular demonstration which would have filled him with joy and pride if +he could only have felt that he had done anything whatever to justify +it, for it was ridiculous to suppose that he had rendered himself a +public benefactor by restoring a convicted Jinnee to freedom and society generally.</p> + +<p>His only consolation was that the English are a race not given to +effusiveness without very good reason, and that before the ceremony was +over he would be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> enabled to gather what were the particular services +which had excited such unbounded enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile he stood there on the crimson-draped and flower-bedecked dais, +bowing repeatedly, and trusting that he did not look so forlornly +foolish as he felt. A long shaft of sunlight struck down between the +Gothic rafters, and dappled the brown stone walls with patches of gold; +the electric lights in the big hooped chandeliers showed pale and feeble +against the subdued glow of the stained glass; the air was heavy with +the scent of flowers and essences. Then there was a rustle of +expectation in the audience, and a pause, in which it seemed to Horace +that everybody on the dais was almost as nervous and at a loss what to +do next as he was himself. He wished with all his soul that they would +hurry the ceremony through, anyhow, and let him go.</p> + +<p>At length the proceedings began by a sort of solemn affectation of +having merely met there for the ordinary business of the day, which to +Horace just then seemed childish in the extreme; it was resolved that +"items 1 to 4 on the agenda need not be discussed," which brought them to item 5.</p> + +<p>Item 5 was a resolution, read by the Town Clerk, that "the freedom of +the City should be presented to Horace Ventimore, Esq., Citizen and +Candlestick-maker" (which last Horace was not aware of being, but +supposed vaguely that it had been somehow managed while he was at the +buffet in the Library), "in recognition of his services"—the resolution +ran, and Horace listened with all his ears—"especially in connection +with ..." It was most unfortunate—but at this precise point the +official was seized with an attack of coughing, in which all was lost +but the conclusion of the sentence, " ... that have justly entitled him +to the gratitude and admiration of his fellow-countrymen."</p> + +<p>Then the six compurgators came forward and vouched for Ventimore's +fitness to receive the freedom. He had painful doubts whether they +altogether understood what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> a responsibility they were undertaking—but +it was too late to warn them and he could only trust that they knew more +of their business than he did.</p> + +<p>After this the City Chamberlain read him an address, to which Horace +listened in resigned bewilderment. The Chamberlain referred to the +unanimity and enthusiasm with which the resolution had been carried, and +said that it was his pleasing and honourable duty, as the mouthpiece of +that ancient City, to address what he described with some inadequacy as +"a few words" to one by adding whose name to their roll of freemen the +Corporation honoured rather themselves than the recipient of their homage.</p> + +<p>It was flattering, but to Horace's ear the phrases sounded excessive, +almost fulsome—though, of course, that depended very much on what he +had done, which he had still to ascertain. The orator proceeded to read +him the "Illustrious List of London's Roll of Fame," a recital which +made Horace shiver with apprehension. For what names they were! What +glorious deeds they had performed! How was it possible that he—plain +Horace Ventimore, a struggling architect who had missed his one great +chance—could have achieved (especially without even being aware of it) +anything that would not seem ludicrously insignificant by comparison?</p> + +<p>He had a morbid fancy that the marble goddesses, or whoever they were, +at the base of Nelson's monument opposite, were regarding him with stony +disdain and indignation; that the statue of Wellington knew him for an +arrant impostor, and averted his head with cold contempt; and that the +effigy of Lord Mayor Beckford on the right of the dais would come to +life and denounce him in another moment.</p> + +<p>"Turning now to your own distinguished services," he suddenly heard the +City Chamberlain resuming, "you are probably aware, sir, that it is +customary on these occasions to mention specifically the particular +merit which had been deemed worthy of civic recognition."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p><p>Horace was greatly relieved to hear it, for it struck him as a most +sensible and, in his own particular case, essential formality.</p> + +<p>"But, on the present occasion, sir," proceeded the speaker, "I feel, as +all present must feel, that it would be unnecessary—nay, almost +impertinent—were I to weary the public ear by a halting recapitulation +of deeds with which it is already so appreciatively familiar." At this +he was interrupted by deafening and long-continued applause, at the end +of which he continued: "I have only therefore, to greet you in the name +of the Corporation, and to offer you the right hand of fellowship as a +Freeman, and Citizen, and Candlestick-maker of London."</p> + +<p>As he shook hands he presented Horace with a copy of the Oath of +Allegiance, intimating that he was to read it aloud. Naturally, +Ventimore had not the least objection to swear to be good and true to +our Sovereign Lady Queen Victoria, or to be obedient to the Lord Mayor, +and warn him of any conspiracies against the Queen's peace which might +chance to come under his observation; so he took the oath cheerfully +enough, and hoped that this was really the end of the ceremony.</p> + +<p>However, to his great chagrin and apprehension, the Lord Mayor rose with +the evident intention of making a speech. He said that the conclusion of +the City to bestow the highest honour in their gift upon Mr. Horace +Ventimore had been—here he hesitated—somewhat hastily arrived at. +Personally, he would have liked a longer time to prepare, to make the +display less inadequate to, and worthier of, this exceptional occasion. +He thought that was the general feeling. (It evidently was, judging from +the loud and unanimous cheering). However, for reasons which—for +reasons with which they were as well acquainted as himself, the notice +had been short. The Corporation had yielded (as they always did, as it +would always be their pride and pleasure to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> yield) to popular pressure +which was practically irresistible, and had done the best they could in +the limited—he might almost say the unprecedentedly limited—period +allowed them. The proudest leaf in Mr. Ventimore's chaplet of laurels +to-day was, he would venture to assert, the sight of the extraordinary +enthusiasm and assemblage, not only in that noble hall, but in the +thoroughfares of this mighty Metropolis. Under the circumstances, this +was a marvellous tribute to the admiration and affection which Mr. +Ventimore had succeeded in inspiring in the great heart of the people, +rich and poor, high and low. He would not detain his hearers any longer; +all that remained for him to do was to ask Mr. Ventimore's acceptance of +a golden casket containing the roll of freedom, and he felt sure that +their distinguished guest, before proceeding to inscribe his name on the +register, would oblige them all by some account from his own lips of—of +the events in which he had figured so prominently and so creditably.</p> + +<p>Horace received the casket mechanically; there was a universal cry of +"Speech!" from the audience, to which he replied by shaking his head in +helpless deprecation—but in vain; he found himself irresistibly pressed +towards the rail in front of the dais, and the roar of applause which +greeted him saved him from all necessity of attempting to speak for +nearly two minutes.</p> + +<p>During that interval he had time to clear his brain and think what he +had better do or say in his present unenviable dilemma. For some time +past a suspicion had been growing in his mind, until it had now almost +swollen into certainty. He felt that, before he compromised himself, or +allowed his too generous entertainers to compromise themselves +irretrievably, it was absolutely necessary to ascertain his real +position, and, to do that, he must make some sort of speech. With this +resolve, all his nervousness and embarrassment and indecision melted +away; he faced the assembly coolly and gallantly,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> convinced that his +best alternative now lay in perfect candour.</p> + +<p>"My Lord Mayor, my lords, ladies, and gentlemen," he began, in a clear +voice which penetrated to the farthest gallery and commanded instant +attention. "If you expect to hear from me any description of what I've +done to be received like this, I'm afraid you will be disappointed. For +my own belief is that I've done nothing whatever."</p> + +<p>There was a general outcry of "No, no!" at this, and a fervid murmur of protest.</p> + +<p>"It's all very well to say 'No, no,'" said Horace, "and I am extremely +grateful to you all for the interruption. Still, I can only repeat that +I am absolutely unaware of having ever rendered my Country, or this +great City, a single service deserving of the slightest acknowledgment. +I wish I could feel I had—but the truth is that, if I have, the fact +has entirely slipped from my memory."</p> + +<p>Again there were murmurs, this time with a certain under-current of +irritation; and he could hear the Lord Mayor behind him remarking to the +City Chamberlain that this was not at all the kind of speech for the occasion.</p> + +<p>"I know what you're thinking," said Horace. "You're thinking this is +mock modesty on my part. But it's nothing of the sort. <i>I</i> don't know +what I've done—but I presume you are all better informed. Because the +Corporation wouldn't have given me that very charming casket—you +wouldn't all of you be here like this—unless you were under a strong +impression that I'd done <i>something</i> to deserve it." At this there was a +fresh outburst of applause. "Just so," said Horace, calmly. "Well, now, +will any of you be kind enough to tell me, in a few words, <i>what</i> you +suppose I've done?"</p> + +<p>There was a dead silence, in which every one looked at his or her +neighbour and smiled feebly.</p> + +<p>"My Lord Mayor," continued Horace, "I appeal to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> you to tell me and this +distinguished assembly why on earth we're all here!"</p> + +<p>The Lord Mayor rose. "I think it sufficient to say," he announced with +dignity, "that the Corporation and myself were unanimously of opinion +that this distinction should be awarded—for reasons which it is +unnecessary and—hum—ha—invidious to enter into here."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," persisted Horace, "but I must press your lordship for +those reasons. I have an object.... Will the City Chamberlain oblige me, +then?... No? Well, then, the Town Clerk?... No?—it's just as I +suspected: none of you can give me your reasons, and shall I tell you +why? Because there <i>aren't</i> any.... Now, do bear with me for a moment. +I'm quite aware this is very embarrassing for all of you—but remember +that it's infinitely more awkward for <i>me</i>! I really cannot accept the +freedom of the City under any suspicion of false pretences. It would be +a poor reward for your hospitality, and base and unpatriotic into the +bargain, to depreciate the value of so great a distinction by permitting +it to be conferred unworthily. If, after you've heard what I am going to +tell you, you still insist on my accepting such an honour, of course I +will not be so ungracious as to refuse it. But I really don't feel that +it would be right to inscribe my name on your Roll of Fame without some +sort of explanation. If I did, I might, for anything I know, +involuntarily be signing the death-warrant of the Corporation!"</p> + +<p>There was a breathless hush upon this; the silence grew so intense that +to borrow a slightly involved metaphor from a distinguished friend of +the writer's, you might have picked up a pin in it! Horace leaned +sideways against the rail in an easy attitude, so as to face the Lord +Mayor, as well as a portion of his audience.</p> + +<p>"Before I go any farther," he said, "will your lordship pardon me if I +suggest that it might be as well to direct that all reporters present +should immediately withdraw?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p><p>The reporters' table was instantly in a stir of anger, and many of the +guests expressed some dissatisfaction. "We, at least," said the Lord +Mayor, rising, flushed with annoyance, "have no reason to dread +publicity. I decline to make a hole-and-corner affair of this. I shall +give no such orders."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Horace, when the chorus of approval had subsided. "My +suggestion was made quite as much in the Corporation's interests as +mine. I merely thought that, when you all clearly understood how grossly +you've been deluded, you might prefer to have the details kept out of +the newspapers if possible. But if you particularly want them published +over the whole world, why, of course——"</p> + +<p>An uproar followed here, under cover of which the Lord Mayor contrived +to give orders to have the doors fastened till further directions.</p> + +<p>"Don't make this more difficult and disagreeable for me than it is +already!" said Horace, as soon as he could obtain a hearing again. "You +don't suppose that I should have come here in this Tom-fool's dress, +imposing myself on the hospitality of this great City, if I could have +helped it! If you've been brought here under false pretences, so have I. +If you've been made to look rather foolish, what is <i>your</i> situation to +mine? The fact is, I am the victim of a headstrong force which I am +utterly unable to control...."</p> + +<p>Upon this a fresh uproar arose, and prevented him from continuing for +some time. "I only ask for fair play and a patient hearing!" he pleaded. +"Give me that, and I will undertake to restore you all to good humour +before I have done."</p> + +<p>They calmed down at this appeal, and he was able to proceed. "My case is +simply this," he said. "A little time ago I happened to go to an auction +and buy a large brass bottle...."</p> + +<p>For some inexplicable reason his last words roused the audience to +absolute frenzy; they would not hear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> anything about the brass bottle. +Every time he attempted to mention it they howled him down, they hissed, +they groaned, they shook their fists; the din was positively deafening.</p> + +<p>Nor was the demonstration confined to the male portion of the assembly. +One lady, indeed, who is a prominent leader in society, but whose name +shall not be divulged here, was so carried away by her feelings as to +hurl a heavy cut-glass bottle of smelling-salts at Horace's offending +head. Fortunately for him, it missed him and only caught one of the +officials (Horace was not in a mood to notice details very accurately, +but he had a notion that it was the City Remembrancer) somewhere about +the region of the watch-pocket.</p> + +<p>"<i>Will</i> you hear me out?" Ventimore shouted. "I'm not trifling. I +haven't told you yet what was inside the bottle. When I opened it, I found ..."</p> + +<p>He got no farther—for, as the words left his lips, he felt himself +seized by the collar of his robe and lifted off his feet by an agency he +was powerless to resist.</p> + +<p>Up and up he was carried, past the great chandeliers, between the carved +and gilded rafters, pursued by a universal shriek of dismay and horror. +Down below he could see the throng of pale, upturned faces, and hear the +wild screams and laughter of several ladies of great distinction in +violent hysterics. And the next moment he was in the glass lantern, and +the latticed panes gave way like tissue paper as he broke through into +the open air, causing the pigeons on the roof to whirr up in a flutter of alarm.</p> + +<p>Of course, he knew that it was the Jinnee who was abducting him in this +sensational manner, and he was rather relieved than alarmed by Fakrash's +summary proceeding, for he seemed, for once, to have hit upon the best +way out of a situation that was rapidly becoming impossible.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>HIGH WORDS</h3> + +<p>Once outside in the open air, the Jinnee "towered" like a pheasant shot +through the breast, and Horace closed his eyes with a combined +swing-switchback-and-Channel-passage sensation during a flight which +apparently continued for hours, although in reality it probably did not +occupy more than a very few seconds. His uneasiness was still further +increased by his inability to guess where he was being taken to—for he +felt instinctively that they were not travelling in the direction of home.</p> + +<p>At last he felt himself set down on some hard, firm surface, and +ventured to open his eyes once more. When he realised where he actually +was, his knees gave way under him, and he was seized with a sudden +giddiness that very nearly made him lose his balance. For he found +himself standing on a sort of narrow ledge or cornice immediately under +the ball at the top of St. Paul's.</p> + +<p>Many feet beneath him spread the dull, leaden summit of the dome, its +raised ridges stretching, like huge serpents over the curve, beyond +which was a glimpse of the green roof of the nave and the two west +towers, with their grey columns and urn-topped buttresses and gilded +pineapples, which shone ruddily in the sun.</p> + +<p>He had an impression of Ludgate Hill and Fleet Street as a deep, winding +ravine, steeped in partial shadow; of long sierras of roofs and +chimney-pots, showing their sharp outlines above mouse-coloured +smoke-wreaths; of the broad, pearl-tinted river, with oily ripples and a +golden glitter where the sunlight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> touched it; of the gleaming slope of +mud under the wharves and warehouses on the Surrey side; of barges and +steamers moored in black clusters; of a small tug fussing noisily down +the river, leaving a broadening arrow-head in its wake.</p> + +<p>Cautiously he moved round towards the east, where the houses formed a +blurred mosaic of cream, slate, indigo, and dull reds and browns, above +which slender rose-flushed spires and towers pierced the haze, stained +in countless places by pillars of black, grey, and amber smoke, and +lightened by plumes and jets of silvery steam, till all blended by +imperceptible gradations into a sky of tenderest gold slashed with translucent blue.</p> + +<p>It was a magnificent view, and none the less so because the +indistinctness of all beyond a limited radius made the huge City seem +not only mystical, but absolutely boundless in extent. But although +Ventimore was distinctly conscious of all this, he was scarcely in a +state to appreciate its grandeur just then. He was much too concerned +with wondering why Fakrash had chosen to plant him up there in so +insecure a position, and how he was ever to be rescued from it, since +the Jinnee had apparently disappeared.</p> + +<p>He was not far off, however, for presently Horace saw him stalk round +the narrow cornice with an air of being perfectly at home on it.</p> + +<p>"So there you are!" said Ventimore; "I thought you'd deserted me again. +What have you brought me up here for?"</p> + +<p>"Because I desired to have speech with thee in private," replied the Jinnee.</p> + +<p>"We're not likely to be intruded on here, certainly," said Horace. "But +isn't it rather exposed, rather public? If we're seen up here, you know, +it will cause a decided sensation."</p> + +<p>"I have laid a spell on all below that they should<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> not raise their +eyes. Be seated, therefore, and hear my words."</p> + +<p>Horace lowered himself carefully to a sitting position, so that his legs +dangled in space, and Fakrash took a seat by his side. "O, most +indiscreet of mankind!" he began, in an aggrieved tone; "thou hast been +near the committal of a great blunder, and doing ill to thyself and to me!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I <i>do</i> like that!" retorted Horace; "when you let me in for all +that freedom of the City business, and then sneaked off, leaving me to +get out of it the best way I could, and only came back just as I was +about to explain matters, and carried me up through the roof like a sack +of flour. Do you consider that tactful on your part?"</p> + +<p>"Thou hadst drunk wine and permitted it to creep as far as the place of secrets."</p> + +<p>"Only one glass," said Horace; "and I wanted it, I can assure you. I was +obliged to make a speech to them, and, thanks to you, I was in such a +hole that I saw nothing for it but to tell the truth."</p> + +<p>"Veracity, as thou wilt learn," answered the Jinnee, "is not invariably +the Ship of Safety. Thou wert about to betray the benefactor who +procured for thee such glory and honour as might well cause the +gall-bladder of lions to burst with envy!"</p> + +<p>"If any lion with the least sense of humour could have witnessed the +proceedings," said Ventimore, "he might have burst with +laughter—certainly not envy. Good Lord! Fakrash," he cried, in his +indignation, "I've never felt such an absolute ass in my whole life! If +nothing would satisfy you but my receiving the freedom of the City, you +might at least have contrived some decent excuse for it! But you left +out the only point there was in the whole thing—and all for what?"</p> + +<p>"What doth it signify why the whole populace should come forth to +acclaim thee and do thee honour, so long as they did so?" said Fakrash, +sullenly. "For<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> the report of thy fame would reach Bedeea-el-Jemal."</p> + +<p>"That's just where you're mistaken," said Horace. "If you had not been +in too desperate a hurry to make a few inquiries, you would have found +out that you were taking all this trouble for nothing."</p> + +<p>"How sayest thou?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you would have discovered that the Princess is spared all +temptation to marry beneath her by the fact that she became the bride of +somebody else about thirty centuries ago. She married a mortal, one +Seyf-el-Mulook, a King's son, and they've both been dead a considerable +time—another obstacle to your plans."</p> + +<p>"It is a lie," declared Fakrash.</p> + +<p>"If you will take me back to Vincent Square, I shall be happy to show +you the evidence in your national records," said Horace. "And you may be +glad to know that your old enemy, Mr. Jarjarees, came to a violent end, +after a very sporting encounter with a King's daughter, who, though +proficient in advanced magic, unfortunately perished herself, poor lady, +in the final round."</p> + +<p>"I had intended <i>thee</i> to accomplish his downfall," said Fakrash.</p> + +<p>"I know," said Horace. "It was most thoughtful of you. But I doubt if I +should have done it half as well—and it would have probably cost me an +eye, at the very least. It's better as it is."</p> + +<p>"And how long hast thou known of these things?"</p> + +<p>"Only since last night."</p> + +<p>"Since last night? And thou didst not unfold them unto me till this +instant?"</p> + +<p>"I've had such a busy morning, you see," explained Horace. "There's been no time."</p> + +<p>"Silly-bearded fool that I was to bring this misbegotten dog into the +august presence of the great Lord Mayor himself (on whom be peace!)," +cried the Jinnee.</p> + +<p>"I object to being referred to as a misbegotten dog,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> said Horace, "but +with the rest of your remark I entirely concur. I'm afraid the Lord +Mayor is very far from being at peace just now." He pointed to the steep +roof of the Guildhall, with its dormers and fretted pinnacles, and the +slender lantern through which he had so lately made his inglorious exit. +"There's the devil of a row going on under that lantern just now, Mr. +Fakrash, you may depend upon that. They've locked the doors till they +can decide what to do next—which will take them some time. And it's all +your fault!"</p> + +<p>"It was thy doing. Why didst thou dare to inform the Lord Mayor that he was deceived?"</p> + +<p>"Why? Because I thought he ought to know. Because I was bound, +particularly after my oath of allegiance, to warn him of any conspiracy +against him. Because I was in such a hat. He'll understand all that—he +won't blame <i>me</i> for this business."</p> + +<p>"It is fortunate," observed the Jinnee, "that I flew away with thee +before thou couldst pronounce my name."</p> + +<p>"You gave yourself away," said Horace. "They all saw you, you know. You +weren't flying so particularly fast. They'll recognise you again. If you +<i>will</i> carry off a man from under the Lord Mayor's very nose, and shoot +up through the roof like a rocket with him, you can't expect to escape +some notice. You see, you happen to be the only unbottled Jinnee in this City."</p> + +<p>Fakrash shifted his seat on the cornice. "I have committed no act of +disrespect unto the Lord Mayor," he said, "therefore he can have no just +cause of anger against me."</p> + +<p>Horace perceived that the Jinnee was not altogether at ease, and pushed +his advantage accordingly.</p> + +<p>"My dear good old friend," he said, "you don't seem to realise yet what +an awful thing you've done. For your own mistaken purposes, you have +compelled the Chief Magistrate and the Corporation of the greatest City +in the world to make themselves hopelessly ridiculous. They'll never +hear the last of this affair. Just look<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> at the crowds waiting patiently +below there. Look at the flags. Think of that gorgeous conveyance of +yours standing outside the Guildhall. Think of the assembly inside—all +the most aristocratic, noble, and distinguished personages in the land," +continued Horace, piling it on as he proceeded; "all collected for what? +To be made fools of by a Jinnee out of a brass bottle!"</p> + +<p>"For their own sakes they will preserve silence," said Fakrash, with a +gleam of unwonted shrewdness.</p> + +<p>"Probably they would hush it up, if they only could," conceded Horace. +"But how <i>can</i> they? What are they to say? What plausible explanation +can they give? Besides, there's the Press: you don't know what the Press +is; but I assure you its power is tremendous—it's simply impossible to +keep anything secret from it nowadays. It has eyes and ears everywhere, +and a thousand tongues. Five minutes after the doors in that hall are +unlocked (and they can't keep them locked <i>much</i> longer) the reporters +will be handing in their special descriptions of you and your latest +vagaries to their respective journals. Within half an hour bills will be +carried through every quarter of London—bills with enormous letters: +'Extraordinary Scene at the Guildhall.' 'Strange End to a Civic +Function.' 'Startling Appearance of an Oriental Genie in the City.' +'Abduction of a Guest of the Lord Mayor.' 'Intense Excitement.' 'Full +Particulars!' And by that time the story will have flashed round the +whole world. 'Keep silence,' indeed! Do you imagine for a moment that +the Lord Mayor, or anybody else concerned, however remotely, will ever +forget, or be allowed to forget, such an outrageous incident as this? If +you do, believe me, you're mistaken."</p> + +<p>"Truly, it would be a terrible thing to incur the wrath of the Lord +Mayor," said the Jinnee, in troubled accents.</p> + +<p>"Awful!" said Horace. "But you seem to have managed it."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p><p>"He weareth round his neck a magic jewel, which giveth him dominion +over devils—is it not so?"</p> + +<p>"You know best," said Horace.</p> + +<p>"It was the splendour of that jewel and the majesty of his countenance +that rendered me afraid to enter his presence, lest he should recognise +me for what I am and command me to obey him, for verily his might is +greater even than Suleyman's, and his hand heavier upon such of the Jinn +as fall into his power!"</p> + +<p>"If that's so," said Horace, "I should strongly advise you to find some +way of putting things straight before it's too late—you've no time to lose."</p> + +<p>"Thou sayest well," said Fakrash, springing to his feet, and turning his +face towards Cheapside. Horace shuffled himself along the ledge in a +seated position after the Jinnee, and, looking down between his feet, +could just see the tops of the thin and rusty trees in the churchyard, +the black and serried swarms of foreshortened people in the street, and +the scarlet-rimmed mouths of chimney-pots on the tiled roofs below.</p> + +<p>"There is but one remedy I know," said the Jinnee, "and it may be that I +have lost power to perform it. Yet will I make the endeavour." And, +stretching forth his right hand towards the east, he muttered some kind +of command or invocation.</p> + +<p>Horace almost fell off the cornice with apprehension of what might +follow. Would it be a thunderbolt, a plague, some frightful convulsion +of Nature? He felt sure that Fakrash would hesitate at no means, however +violent, of burying all traces of his blunder in oblivion, and very +little hope that, whatever he did, it would prove anything but some +worse indiscretion than his previous performances.</p> + +<p>Happily none of these extreme measures seemed to have occurred to the +Jinnee, though what followed was strange and striking enough.</p> + +<p>For presently, as if in obedience to the Jinnee's weird gesticulations, +a lurid belt of fog came rolling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> up from the direction of the Royal +Exchange, swallowing up building after building in its rapid course; one +by one the Guildhall, Bow Church, Cheapside itself, and the churchyard +disappeared, and Horace, turning his head to the left, saw the murky +tide sweeping on westward, blotting out Ludgate Hill, the Strand, +Charing Cross, and Westminster—till at last he and Fakrash were alone +above a limitless plain of bituminous cloud, the only living beings +left, as it seemed, in a blank and silent universe.</p> + +<p>"Look again!" said Fakrash, and Horace, looking eastward, saw the spire +of Bow Church, rosy once more, the Guildhall standing clear and intact, +and the streets and house-tops gradually reappearing. Only the flags, +with their unrestful shiver and ripple of colour, had disappeared, and, +with them, the waiting crowds and the mounted constables. The ordinary +traffic of vans, omnibuses, and cabs was proceeding as though it had +never been interrupted—the clank and jingle of harness chains, the +cries and whip-crackings of drivers, rose with curious distinctness +above the incessant trampling roar which is the ground-swell of the human ocean.</p> + +<p>"That cloud which thou sawest," said Fakrash, "hath swept away with it +all memory of this affair from the minds of every mortal assembled to do +thee honour. See, they go about their several businesses, and all the +past incidents are to them as though they had never been."</p> + +<p>It was not often that Horace could honestly commend any performance of +the Jinnee's, but at this he could not restrain his admiration. "By +Jove!" he said, "that certainly gets the Lord Mayor and everybody else +out of the mess as neatly as possible. I must say, Mr. Fakrash, it's +much the best thing I've seen you do yet."</p> + +<p>"Wait," said the Jinnee, "for presently thou shalt see me perform a yet +more excellent thing."</p> + +<p>There was a most unpleasant green glow in his eyes and a bristle in his +thin beard as he spoke, which suddenly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> made Horace feel uncomfortable. +He did not like the look of the Jinnee at all.</p> + +<p>"I really think you've done enough for to-day," he said. "And this wind +up here is rather searching. I shan't be sorry to find myself on the ground again."</p> + +<p>"That," replied the Jinnee, "thou shalt assuredly do before long, O +impudent and deceitful wretch!" And he laid a long, lean hand on +Horace's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"He <i>is</i> put out about something!" thought Ventimore. "But what?" "My +dear sir," he said aloud, "I don't understand this tone of yours. What +have I done to offend you?"</p> + +<p>"Divinely gifted was he who said: 'Beware of losing hearts in +consequence of injury, for the bringing them back after flight is difficult.'"</p> + +<p>"Excellent!" said Horace. "But I don't quite see the application."</p> + +<p>"The application," explained the Jinnee, "is that I am determined to +cast thee down from here with my own hand!"</p> + +<p>Horace turned faint and dizzy for a moment. Then, by a strong effort of +will, he pulled himself together. "Oh, come now," he said, "you don't +really mean that, you know. After all your kindness! You're much too +good-natured to be capable of anything so atrocious."</p> + +<p>"All pity hath been eradicated from my heart," returned Fakrash. +"Therefore prepare to die, for thou art presently about to perish in the +most unfortunate manner."</p> + +<p>Ventimore could not repress a shudder. Hitherto he had never been able +to take Fakrash quite seriously, in spite of all his supernatural +powers; he had treated him with a half-kindly, half-contemptuous +tolerance, as a well-meaning, but hopelessly incompetent, old foozle. +That the Jinnee should ever become malevolent towards him had never +entered his head till now—and yet he undoubtedly had. How was he to +cajole and disarm this formidable being? He must keep cool and act +promptly, or he would never see Sylvia again.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p><p>As he sat there on the narrow ledge, with a faint and not unpleasant +smell of hops saluting his nostrils from some distant brewery, he tried +hard to collect his thoughts, but could not. He found himself, instead, +idly watching the busy, jostling crowd below, who were all unconscious +of the impending drama so high above them. Just over the rim of the dome +he could see the opaque white top of a lamp on a shelter, where a pigmy +constable stood, directing the traffic.</p> + +<p>Would he look up if Horace called for help? Even if he could, what help +could he render? All he could do would be to keep the crowd back and +send for a covered stretcher. No, he would <i>not</i> dwell on these horrors; +he <i>must</i> fix his mind on some way of circumventing Fakrash.</p> + +<p>How did the people in "The Arabian Nights" manage? The fisherman, for +instance? He persuaded <i>his</i> Jinnee to return to the bottle by +pretending to doubt whether he had ever really been inside it.</p> + +<p>But Fakrash, though simple enough in some respects, was not quite such a +fool as that. Sometimes the Jinn could be mollified and induced to grant +a reprieve by being told stories, one inside the other, like a nest of +Oriental boxes. Unfortunately Fakrash did not seem in the humour for +listening to apologues, and, even if he were, Horace could not think of +or improvise any just then. "Besides," he thought, "I can't sit up here +telling him anecdotes for ever. I'd almost sooner die!" Still, he +remembered that it was generally possible to draw an Arabian Efreet into +discussion: they all loved argument, and had a rough conception of justice.</p> + +<p>"I think, Mr. Fakrash," he said, "that, in common fairness, I have a +right to know what offence I have committed."</p> + +<p>"To recite thy misdeeds," replied the Jinnee, "would occupy much time."</p> + +<p>"I don't mind that," said Horace, affably. "I can give you as long as +you like. I'm in no sort of a hurry."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p><p>"With me it is otherwise," retorted Fakrash, making a stride towards +him. "Therefore court not life, for thy death hath become unavoidable.'</p> + +<p>"Before we part," said Horace, "you won't refuse to answer one or two questions?"</p> + +<p>"Didst thou not undertake never to ask any further favour of me? +Moreover, it will avail thee nought. For I am positively determined to slay thee."</p> + +<p>"I demand it," said Horace, "in the most great name of the Lord Mayor +(on whom be peace!)"</p> + +<p>It was a desperate shot—but it took effect. The Jinnee quailed visibly.</p> + +<p>"Ask, then," he said; "but briefly, for the time groweth short."</p> + +<p>Horace determined to make one last appeal to Fakrash's sense of +gratitude, since it had always seemed the dominant trait in his character.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "but for me, wouldn't you be still in that brass bottle?"</p> + +<p>"That," replied the Jinnee, "is the very reason why I purpose to destroy thee!"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" was all Horace could find to say at this most unlooked-for answer. +His sheet anchor, in which he had trusted implicitly, had suddenly +dragged—and he was drifting fast to destruction.</p> + +<p>"Are there any other questions which thou wouldst ask?" inquired the +Jinnee, with grim indulgence; "or wilt thou encounter thy doom without +further procrastination?"</p> + +<p>Horace was determined not to give in just yet; he had a very bad hand, +but he might as well play the game out and trust to luck to gain a stray trick.</p> + +<p>"I haven't nearly done yet," he said. "And, remember, you've promised to +answer me—in the name of the Lord Mayor!"</p> + +<p>"I will answer one other question, and no more," said the Jinnee, in an +inflexible tone; and Ventimore realised that his fate would depend upon +what he said next.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>A GAME OF BLUFF</h3> + +<p>"Thy second question, O pertinacious one?" said the Jinnee, impatiently. +He was standing with folded arms looking down on Horace, who was still +seated on the narrow cornice, not daring to glance below again, lest he +should lose his head altogether.</p> + +<p>"I'm coming to it," said Ventimore; "I want to know why you should +propose to dash me to pieces in this barbarous way as a return for +letting you out of that bottle. Were you so comfortable in it as all that?"</p> + +<p>"In the bottle I was at least suffered to rest, and none molested me. +But in releasing me thou didst perfidiously conceal from me that +Suleyman was dead and gone, and that there reigneth one in his stead +mightier a thousand-fold, who afflicteth our race with labours and +tortures exceeding all the punishments of Suleyman."</p> + +<p>"What on earth have you got into your head now? You can't mean the Lord Mayor?"</p> + +<p>"Whom else?" said the Jinnee, solemnly. "And though, for this once, by a +device I have evaded his vengeance, yet do I know full well that either +by virtue of the magic jewel upon his breast, or through that malignant +monster with the myriad ears and eyes and tongues, which thou callest +'The Press,' I shall inevitably fall into his power before long."</p> + +<p>For the life of him, in spite of his desperate plight, Horace could not +help laughing. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Fakrash," he said, as soon as he +could speak, "but—the Lord Mayor! It's really too absurd. Why, he +wouldn't hurt a hair on a fly's head!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p><p>"Seek not to deceive me further!" said Fakrash, furiously. "Didst thou +not inform me with thy own mouth that the spirits of Earth, Air, Water, +and Fire were subject to his will? Have I no eyes? Do I not behold from +here the labours of my captive brethren? What are those on yonder +bridges but enslaved Jinn, shrieking and groaning in clanking fetters, +and snorting forth steam, as they drag their wheeled burdens behind +them? Are there not others toiling, with panting efforts, through the +sluggish waters; others again, imprisoned in lofty pillars, from which +the smoke of their breath ascendeth even unto Heaven? Doth not the air +throb and quiver with their restless struggles as they writhe below in +darkness and torment? And thou hast the shamelessness to pretend that +these things are done in the Lord Mayor's own realms without his +knowledge! Verily thou must take me for a fool!"</p> + +<p>"After all," reflected Ventimore, "if he chooses to consider that +railway engines and steamers, and machinery generally, are inhabited by +so many Jinn 'doing time,' it's not to my interest to undeceive +him—indeed, it's quite the contrary!"</p> + +<p>"I wasn't aware the Lord Mayor had so much power as all that," he said; +"but very likely you're right. And if you're so anxious to keep in +favour with him, it would be a great mistake to kill me. That <i>would</i> +annoy him."</p> + +<p>"Not so," said the Jinnee, "for I should declare that thou hadst spoken +slightingly of him in my hearing, and that I had slain thee on that account."</p> + +<p>"Your proper course," said Horace, "would be to hand me over to him, and +let <i>him</i> deal with the case. Much more regular."</p> + +<p>"That may be," said Fakrash; "but I have conceived so bitter a hatred to +thee by reason of thy insolence and treachery, that I cannot forego the +delight of slaying thee with my own hand."</p> + +<p>"Can't you really?" said Horace, on the verge of despair. "And <i>then</i>, +what will you do?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p><p>"Then," replied the Jinnee, "I shall flee away to Arabia, where I shall +be safe."</p> + +<p>"Don't you be too sure of that!" said Horace. "You see all those wires +stretched on poles down there? Those are the pathways of certain Jinn +known as electric currents, and the Lord Mayor could send a message +along them which would be at Baghdad before you had flown farther than +Folkestone. And I may mention that Arabia is now more or less under +British jurisdiction."</p> + +<p>He was bluffing, of course, for he knew perfectly well that, even if any +extradition treaty could be put in force, the arrest of a Jinnee would +be no easy matter.</p> + +<p>"Thou art of opinion, then, that I should be no safer in mine own +country?" inquired Fakrash.</p> + +<p>"I swear by the name of the Lord Mayor (to whom be all reverence!)" said +Horace, "that there is no land you could fly to where you would be any +safer than you are here."</p> + +<p>"If I were but sealed up in my bottle once more," said the Jinnee, +"would not even the Lord Mayor have respect unto the seal of Suleyman, +and forbear to disturb me?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course he would!" cried Horace, hardly daring to believe his +ears. "That's really a brilliant idea of yours, my dear Mr. Fakrash."</p> + +<p>"And in the bottle I should not be compelled to work," continued the +Jinnee. "For labour of all kinds hath ever been abhorrent unto me."</p> + +<p>"I can quite understand that," said Horace, sympathetically. "Just +imagine your having to drag an excursion train to the seaside on a Bank +Holiday, or being condemned to print off a cheap comic paper, or even +the <i>War Cry</i>, when you might be leading a snug and idle existence in +your bottle. If I were you, I should go and get inside it at once. +Suppose we go back to Vincent Square and find it?"</p> + +<p>"I shall return to the bottle, since in that alone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> there is safety," +said the Jinnee. "But I shall return alone."</p> + +<p>"Alone!" cried Horace. "You're not going to leave me stuck up here all by myself?"</p> + +<p>"By no means," said the Jinnee. "Have I not said that I am about to cast +thee to perdition? Too long have I delayed in the accomplishment of this duty."</p> + +<p>Once more Horace gave himself up for lost; which was doubly bitter, just +when he had begun to consider that the danger was past. But even then, +he was determined to fight to the last.</p> + +<p>"One moment," he said. "Of course, if you've set your heart on pitching +me over, you must. Only—I may be quite mistaken—but I don't quite see +how you are going to manage the rest of your programme without me, that's all."</p> + +<p>"O deficient in intelligence!" cried the Jinnee. "What assistance canst +thou render me?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Horace, "of course, you can get into the bottle +alone—that's simple enough. But the difficulty I see is this: Are you +quite sure you can put the cap on yourself—from the <i>inside</i>, you +know?" If he can, he thought, "I'm done for!"</p> + +<p>"That," began the Jinnee, with his usual confidence "will be the easiest +of—nay," he corrected himself, "there be things that not even the Jinn +themselves can accomplish, and one of them is to seal a vessel while +remaining in it. I am indebted to thee for reminding me thereof."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said Ventimore. "I shall be delighted to come and seal you +up comfortably myself."</p> + +<p>"Again thou speakest folly," exclaimed the Jinnee. "How canst thou seal +me up after I have dashed thee into a thousand pieces?"</p> + +<p>"That," said Horace, with all the urbanity he could command, "is +precisely the difficulty I was trying to convey."</p> + +<p>"There will be no difficulty, for as soon as I am in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> the bottle I shall +summon certain inferior Efreets, and they will replace the seal."</p> + +<p>"When you are once in the bottle," said Horace, at a venture, "you +probably won't be in a position to summon anybody."</p> + +<p>"<i>Before</i> I get into the bottle, then!" said the Jinnee, impatiently. +"Thou dost but juggle with words!"</p> + +<p>"But about those Efreets," persisted Horace. "You know what Efreets +<i>are</i>! How can you be sure that, when they've got you in the bottle, +they won't hand you over to the Lord Mayor? I shouldn't trust them +myself—but, of course, you know best!"</p> + +<p>"Whom shall I trust, then?" said Fakrash, frowning.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know. It's rather a pity you're so determined to +destroy me, because, as it happens, I'm just the one person living who +could be depended on to seal you up and keep your secret. However, +that's your affair. After all, why should I care what becomes of you? I +shan't be there!"</p> + +<p>"Even at this hour," said the Jinnee, undecidedly, "I might find it in +my heart to spare thee, were I but sure that thou wouldst be faithful unto me!"</p> + +<p>"I should have thought I was more to be trusted than one of your beastly +Efreets!" said Horace, with well-assumed indifference. "But never mind, +I don't know that I care, after all. I've nothing particular to live for +now. You've ruined me pretty thoroughly, and you may as well finish your +work. I've a good mind to jump over, and save you the trouble. Perhaps, +when you see me bouncing down that dome, you'll be sorry!"</p> + +<p>"Refrain from rashness!" said the Jinnee, hastily, without suspecting +that Ventimore had no serious intention of carrying out his threat. "If +thou wilt do as thou art bidden, I will not only pardon thee, but grant +thee all that thou desirest."</p> + +<p>"Take me back to Vincent Square first," said Horace. "This is not the +place to discuss business."</p> + +<p>"Thou sayest rightly," replied the Jinnee; "hold<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> fast to my sleeve, and +I will transport thee to thine abode."</p> + +<p>"Not till you promise to play fair," said Horace, pausing on the brink +of the ledge. "Remember, if you let me go now you drop the only friend +you've got in the world!"</p> + +<p>"May I be thy ransom!" replied Fakrash. "There shall not be harmed a +hair of thy head!"</p> + +<p>Even then Horace had his misgivings; but as there was no other way of +getting off that cornice, he decided to take the risk. And, as it +proved, he acted judiciously, for the Jinnee flew to Vincent Square with +honourable precision, and dropped him neatly into the armchair in which +he had little hoped ever to find himself again.</p> + +<p>"I have brought thee hither," said Fakrash, "and yet I am persuaded that +thou art even now devising treachery against me, and wilt betray me if thou canst."</p> + +<p>Horace was about to assure him once more that no one could be more +anxious than himself to see him safely back in his bottle, when he +recollected that it was impolitic to appear too eager.</p> + +<p>"After the way you've behaved," he said, "I'm not at all sure that I +ought to help you. Still, I said I would, on certain conditions, and +I'll keep my word."</p> + +<p>"Conditions!" thundered the Jinnee. "Wilt thou bargain with me yet further?"</p> + +<p>"My excellent friend," said Horace quietly, "you know perfectly well +that you can't get yourself safely sealed up again in that bottle +without my assistance. If you don't like my terms, and prefer to take +your chance of finding an Efreet who is willing to brave the Lord Mayor, +well, you've only to say so."</p> + +<p>"I have loaded thee with all manner of riches and favours, and I will +bestow no more upon thee," said the Jinnee, sullenly. "Nay, in token of +my displeasure, I will deprive thee even of such gifts as thou hast +retained." He pointed his grey forefinger at Ventimore, whose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> turban +and jewelled robes instantly shrivelled into cobwebs and tinder, and +fluttered to the carpet in filmy shreds, leaving him in nothing but his underclothing.</p> + +<p>"That only shows what a nasty temper you're in," said Horace, blandly, +"and doesn't annoy me in the least. If you'll excuse me, I'll go and put +on some things I can feel more at home in; and perhaps by the time I +return you'll have cooled down."</p> + +<p>He slipped on some clothes hurriedly and re-entered the sitting-room. +"Now, Mr. Fakrash," he said, "we'll have this out. You talk of having +loaded me with benefits. You seem to consider I ought to be grateful to +you. In Heaven's name, for what? I've been as forbearing as possible all +this time, because I gave you credit for meaning well. Now, I'll speak +plainly. I told you from the first, and I tell you now, that I want no +riches nor honours from you. The one real good turn you did me was +bringing me that client, and you spoilt that because you would insist on +building the palace yourself, instead of leaving it to me! As for the +rest—here am I, a ruined and discredited man, with a client who +probably supposes I'm in league with the Devil; with the girl I love, +and might have married, believing that I have left her to marry a +Princess; and her father, unable ever to forgive me for having seen him +as a one-eyed mule. In short, I'm in such a mess all round that I don't +care two straws whether I live or die!"</p> + +<p>"What is all this to me?" said the Jinnee.</p> + +<p>"Only this—that unless you can see your way to putting things straight +for me, I'm hanged if I take the trouble to seal you up in that bottle!"</p> + +<p>"How am <i>I</i> to put things straight for thee?" cried Fakrash, peevishly.</p> + +<p>"If you could make all those people entirely forget that affair in the +Guildhall, you can make my friends forget the brass bottle and +everything connected with it, can't you?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p><p>"There would be no difficulty in that," Fakrash admitted.</p> + +<p>"Well, do it—and I'll swear to seal you up in the bottle exactly as if +you had never been out of it, and pitch you into the deepest part of the +Thames, where no one will ever disturb you."</p> + +<p>"First produce the bottle, then," said Fakrash, "for I cannot believe +but that thou hast some lurking guile in thy heart."</p> + +<p>"I'll ring for my landlady and have the bottle brought up," said Horace. +"Perhaps that will satisfy you? Stay, you'd better not let her see you."</p> + +<p>"I will render myself invisible," said the Jinnee, suiting the action to +his words. "But beware lest thou play me false," his voice continued, +"for I shall hear thee!"</p> + +<p>"So you've come in, Mr. Ventimore?" said Mrs. Rapkin, as she entered. +"And without the furrin gentleman? I <i>was</i> surprised, and so was Rapkin +the same, to see you ridin' off this morning in the gorgious chariot and +'osses, and dressed up that lovely! 'Depend upon it,' I says to Rapkin, +I says, 'depend upon it, Mr. Ventimore'll be sent for to Buckinham +Pallis, if it ain't Windsor Castle!'"</p> + +<p>"Never mind that now," said Horace, impatiently; "I want that brass +bottle I bought the other day. Bring it up at once, please."</p> + +<p>"I thought you said the other day you never wanted to set eyes on it +again, and I was to do as I pleased with it, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I've changed my mind, so let me have it, quick."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I'm very sorry, sir, but that you can't, because Rapkin, not +wishful to have the place lumbered up with rubbish, disposed of it on'y +last night to a gentleman as keeps a rag and bone emporium off the +Bridge Road, and 'alf-a-crown was the most he'd give for it, sir."</p> + +<p>"Give me his name," said Horace.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p><p>"Dilger, sir—Emanuel Dilger. When Rapkin comes in I'm sure he'd go +round with pleasure, and see about it, if required."</p> + +<p>"I'll go round myself," said Horace. "It's all right, Mrs. Rapkin, quite +a natural mistake on your part, but—but I happen to want the bottle +again. You needn't stay."</p> + +<p>"O thou smooth-faced and double-tongued one!" said the Jinnee, after she +had gone, as he reappeared to view. "Did I not foresee that thou wouldst +deal crookedly? Restore unto me my bottle!"</p> + +<p>"I'll go and get it at once," said Horace; "I shan't be five minutes." +And he prepared to go.</p> + +<p>"Thou shalt not leave this house," cried Fakrash, "for I perceive +plainly that this is but a device of thine to escape and betray me to +the Press Devil!"</p> + +<p>"If you can't see," said Horace, angrily, "that I'm quite as anxious to +see you safely back in that confounded bottle as ever you can be to get +there, you must be pretty dense! <i>Can't</i> you understand? The bottle's +sold, and I can't buy it back without going out. Don't be so infernally +unreasonable!"</p> + +<p>"Go, then," said the Jinnee, "and I will await thy return here. But know +this: that if thou delayest long or returnest without my bottle, I shall +know that thou art a traitor, and will visit thee and those who are dear +to thee with the most unpleasant punishments!"</p> + +<p>"I'll be back in half an hour, at most," said Horace, feeling that this +would allow him ample margin, and thankful that it did not occur to +Fakrash to go in person.</p> + +<p>He put on his hat, and hurried off in the gathering dusk. He had some +little trouble in finding Mr. Dilger's establishment, which was a dirty, +dusty little place in a back street, with a few deplorable old chairs, +rickety washstands, and rusty fenders outside, and the interior almost +completely blocked by piles of dingy mattresses, empty clock-cases, +tarnished and cracked mirrors, broken lamps, damaged picture-frames, and +everything else which one would imagine could have no possible<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> value +for any human being. But in all this collection of worthless curios the +brass bottle was nowhere to be seen.</p> + +<p>Ventimore went in and found a youth of about thirteen straining his eyes +in the fading light over one of those halfpenny humorous journals which, +thanks to an improved system of education, at least eighty per cent. of +our juvenile population are now enabled to appreciate.</p> + +<p>"I want to see Mr. Dilger," he began.</p> + +<p>"You can't," said the youth. "'Cause he ain't in. He's attending of an auction."</p> + +<p>"When <i>will</i> he be in, do you know?"</p> + +<p>"Might be back to his tea—but I wasn't to expect him not before supper."</p> + +<p>"You don't happen to have any old metal bottles—copper or—or brass +would do—for sale?"</p> + +<p>"You don't git at me like that! Bottles is made o' glorss."</p> + +<p>"Well, a jar, then—a big brass pot—anything of that kind?"</p> + +<p>"Don't keep 'em," said the boy, and buried himself once more in his copy +of "Spicy Sniggers."</p> + +<p>"I'll just look round," said Horace, and began to poke about with a +sinking heart, and a horrid dread that he might have come to the wrong +shop, for the big pot-bellied vessel certainly did not seem to be there. +At last, to his unspeakable joy, he discovered it under a piece of +tattered drugget. "Why, this is the sort of thing I meant," he said, +feeling in his pocket and discovering that he had exactly a sovereign. +"How much do you want for it?"</p> + +<p>"I dunno," said the boy.</p> + +<p>"I don't mind three shillings," said Horace, who did not wish to appear +too keen at first.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell the guv'nor when he comes in," was the reply, "and you can look in later."</p> + +<p>"I want it at once," insisted Horace. "Come, I'll give you three-and-six for it."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p><p>"It's more than it's wurf," replied the candid youth.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Horace, "but I'm rather pressed for time. If you'll +change this sovereign, I'll take the bottle away with me."</p> + +<p>"You seem uncommon anxious to get 'old on it, mister!" said the boy, +with sudden suspicion.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said Horace. "I live close by, and I thought I might as well +take it, that's all."</p> + +<p>"Oh, if that's all, you can wait till the guv'nor's in."</p> + +<p>"I—I mayn't be passing this way again for some time," said Horace.</p> + +<p>"Bound to be, if you live close by," and the provoking youth returned to +his "Sniggers."</p> + +<p>"Do you call this attending to your master's business?" said Horace. +"Listen to me, you young rascal. I'll give you five shillings for it. +You're not going to be fool enough to refuse an offer like that?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't goin' to be fool enough to refuse it—nor yet I ain't goin' to +be fool enough to take it, 'cause I'm only 'ere to see as nobody don't +come in and sneak fings. I ain't got no authority to sell anyfink, and I +don't know the proice o' nuffink, so there you <i>'ave</i> it."</p> + +<p>"Take the five shillings," said Horace, "and if it's too little I'll +come round and settle with your master later."</p> + +<p>"I thought you said you wasn't likely to be porsin' again? No, mister, +you don't kid me that way!"</p> + +<p>Horace had a mad impulse to snatch up the precious bottle then and there +and make off with it, and might have yielded to the temptation, with +disastrous consequences, had not an elderly man entered the shop at that +moment. He was bent, and wore rather more fluff and flue upon his person +than most well-dressed people would consider necessary, but he came in +with a certain air of authority, nevertheless.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Dilger, sir," piped the youth, "'ere's a gent took a fancy to this +'ere brass pot o' yours. Says he <i>must</i> 'ave it. Five shillings he'd got +to, but I told him he'd 'ave to wait till you come in."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p><p>"Quite right, my lad!" said Mr. Dilger, cocking a watery but sharp old +eye at Horace. "Five shillings! Ah, sir, you can't know much about these +hold brass antiquities to make an orfer like that."</p> + +<p>"I know as much as most people," said Horace. "But let us say six shillings."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't be done, sir; couldn't indeed. Why, I give a pound for it +myself at Christie's, as sure as I'm standin' 'ere in the presence o' my +Maker, and you a sinner!" he declared impressively, if rather ambiguously.</p> + +<p>"Your memory is not quite accurate," said Horace. "You bought it last +night from a man of the name of Rapkin, who lets lodgings in Vincent +Square, and you paid exactly half a crown for it."</p> + +<p>"If you say so I dare say it's correct, sir," said Mr. Dilger, without +exhibiting the least confusion. "And if I did buy it off Mr. Rapkin, +he's a respectable party, and ain't likely to have come by it dishonest."</p> + +<p>"I never said he did. What will you take for the thing?"</p> + +<p>"Well, just look at the work in it. They don't turn out the like o' that +nowadays. Dutch, that is; what they used for to put their milk and such-like in."</p> + +<p>"Damn it!" said Horace, completely losing his temper. "<i>I</i> know what it +was used for. <i>Will</i> you tell me what you want for it?"</p> + +<p>"I couldn't let a curiosity like that go a penny under thirty +shillings," said Mr. Dilger, affectionately. "It would be robbin' myself."</p> + +<p>"I'll give you a sovereign for it—there," said Horace. "You know best +what profit that represents. That's my last word."</p> + +<p>"<i>My</i> last word to that, sir, is good hevenin'," said the worthy man.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, then," said Horace, and walked out of the shop; rather to +bring Mr. Dilger to terms than because he really meant to abandon the +bottle, for he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> dared not go back without it, and he had nothing about +him just then on which he could raise the extra ten shillings, supposing +the dealer refused to trust him for the balance—and the time was +growing dangerously short.</p> + +<p>Fortunately the well-worn ruse succeeded, for Mr. Dilger ran out after +him and laid an unwashed claw upon his coat-sleeve. "Don't go, mister," +he said; "I like to do business if I can; though, 'pon my word and +honour, a sovereign for a work o' art like that! Well, just for luck and +bein' my birthday, we'll call it a deal."</p> + +<p>Horace handed over the coin, which left him with a few pence. "There +ought to be a lid or stopper of some sort," he said suddenly. "What have +you done with that?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, there you're mistook, you are, indeed. I do assure you you +never see a pot of this partickler pattern with a lid to it. Never!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't you, though?" said Horace. "I know better. Never mind," he +said, as he recollected that the seal was in Fakrash's possession. "I'll +take it as it is. Don't trouble to wrap it up. I'm in rather a hurry."</p> + +<p>It was almost dark when he got back to his rooms, where he found the +Jinnee shaking with mingled rage and apprehension.</p> + +<p>"No welcome to thee!" he cried. "Dilatory dog that thou art! Hadst thou +delayed another minute, I would have called down some calamity upon thee."</p> + +<p>"Well, you need not trouble yourself to do that now," returned +Ventimore. "Here's your bottle, and you can creep into it as soon as you please."</p> + +<p>"But the seal!" shrieked the Jinnee. "What hast thou done with the seal +which was upon the bottle?"</p> + +<p>"Why, you've got it yourself, of course," said Horace, "in one of your pockets."</p> + +<p>"O thou of base antecedents!" howled Fakrash, shaking out his flowing +draperies. "How should <i>I</i> have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> the seal? This is but a fresh device of +thine to undo me!"</p> + +<p>"Don't talk rubbish!" retorted Horace. "You made the Professor give it +up to you yesterday. You must have lost it somewhere or other. Never +mind! I'll get a large cork or bung, which will do just as well. And +I've lots of sealing-wax."</p> + +<p>"I will have no seal but the seal of Suleyman!" declared the Jinnee. +"For with no other will there be security. Verily I believe that that +accursed sage, thy friend, hath contrived by some cunning to get the +seal once more into his hands. I will go at once to his abode and compel +him to restore it."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't," said Horace, feeling extremely uneasy, for it was +evidently a much simpler thing to let a Jinnee out of a bottle than to +get him in again. "He's quite incapable of taking it. And if you go out +now you'll only make a fuss and attract the attention of the Press, +which I thought you rather wanted to avoid."</p> + +<p>"I shall attire myself in the garments of a mortal—even those I assumed +on a former occasion," said Fakrash, and as he spoke his outer robes +modernised into a frock-coat. "Thus shall I escape attention."</p> + +<p>"Wait one moment," said Horace. "What is that bulge in your breast-pocket?"</p> + +<p>"Of a truth," said the Jinnee, looking relieved but not a little foolish +as he extracted the object, "it is indeed the seal."</p> + +<p>"You're in such a hurry to think the worst of everybody, you see!" said +Horace. "Now, <i>do</i> try to carry away with you into your seclusion a +better opinion of human nature."</p> + +<p>"Perdition to all the people of this age!" cried Fakrash, re-assuming +his green robe and turban, "for I now put no faith in human beings and +would afflict them all, were not the Lord Mayor (on whom be peace!) +mightier than I. Therefore, while it is yet time, take thou the stopper, +and swear that, after I am in this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> bottle, thou wilt seal it as before +and cast it into deep waters, where no eye will look upon it more!"</p> + +<p>"With all the pleasure in the world!" said Horace; "only you must keep +<i>your</i> part of the bargain first. You will kindly obliterate all +recollection of yourself and the brass bottle from the minds of every +human being who has had anything to do with you or it."</p> + +<p>"Not so," objected the Jinnee, "for thus wouldst thou forget thy compact."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well, leave <i>me</i> out, then," said Horace. "Not that anything +could make me forget <i>you</i>!"</p> + +<p>Fakrash swept his right hand round in a half circle. "It is +accomplished," he said. "All recollection of myself and yonder bottle is +now erased from the memories of every one but thyself."</p> + +<p>"But how about my client?" said Horace. "I can't afford to lose <i>him</i>, you know."</p> + +<p>"He shall return unto thee," said the Jinnee, trembling with impatience. +"Now perform thy share."</p> + +<p>Horace had triumphed. It had been a long and desperate duel with this +singular being, who was at once so crafty and so childlike, so credulous +and so suspicious, so benevolent and so malign. Again and again he had +despaired of victory, but he had won at last. In another minute or so +this formidable Jinnee would be safely bottled once more, and powerless +to intermeddle and plague him for the future.</p> + +<p>And yet, in the very moment of triumph, quixotic as such scruples may +seem to some, Ventimore's conscience smote him. He could not help a +certain pity for the old creature, who was shaking there convulsively +prepared to re-enter his bottle-prison rather than incur a wholly +imaginary doom. Fakrash had aged visibly within the last hour; now he +looked even older than his three thousand and odd years. True, he had +led Horace a fearful life of late, but at first, at least, his +intentions had been good. His gratitude, if mistaken in its form, was +the sign of a generous disposition. Not every Jinnee,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> surely, would +have endeavoured to press untold millions and honours and dignities of +all kinds upon him, in return for a service which most mortals would +have considered amply repaid by a brace of birds and an invitation to an evening party.</p> + +<p>And how was Horace treating <i>him</i>? He was taking what, in his heart, he +felt to be a rather mean advantage of the Jinnee's ignorance of modern +life to cajole him into returning to his captivity. Why not suffer him +to live out the brief remainder of his years (for he could hardly last +more than another century or two at most) in freedom? Fakrash had learnt +his lesson: he was not likely to interfere again in human affairs; he +might find his way back to the Palace of the Mountain of the Clouds and +end his days there, in peaceful enjoyment of the society of such of the +Jinn as might still survive unbottled.</p> + +<p>So, obeying—against his own interests—some kindlier impulse, Horace +made an effort to deter the Jinnee, who was already hovering in air +above the neck of the bottle in a swirl of revolving draperies, like +some blundering old bee vainly endeavouring to hit the opening into his hive.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Fakrash," he cried, "before you go any farther, listen to me. +There's no real necessity, after all, for you to go back to your bottle. +If you'll only wait a little——"</p> + +<p>But the Jinnee, who had now swelled to gigantic proportions, and whose +form and features were only dimly recognisable through the wreaths of +black vapour in which he was involved, answered him from his pillar of +smoke in a terrible voice. "Wouldst thou still persuade me to linger?" +he cried. "Hold thy peace and be ready to fulfil thine undertaking."</p> + +<p>"But, look here," persisted Horace. "I should feel such a brute if I +sealed you up without telling you——" The whirling and roaring column, +in shape like an inverted cone, was being fast sucked down into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> +vessel, till only a semi-materialised but highly infuriated head was +left above the neck of the bottle.</p> + +<p>"Must I tarry," it cried, "till the Lord Mayor arrive with his Memlooks, +and the hour of safety is expired? By my head, if thou delayest another +instant, I will put no more faith in thee! And I will come forth once +more, and afflict thee and thy friends—ay, and all the dwellers in this +accursed city—with the most painful and unheard-of calamities."</p> + +<p>And, with these words, the head sank into the bottle with a loud clap +resembling thunder.</p> + +<p>Horace hesitated no longer. The Jinnee himself had absolved him from all +further scruples; to imperil Sylvia and her parents—not to mention all +London—out of consideration for one obstinate and obnoxious old demon, +would clearly be carrying sentiment much too far.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, he made a rush for the jar and slipped the metal cover over +the mouth of the neck, which was so hot that it blistered his fingers, +and, seizing the poker, he hammered down the secret catch until the lid +fitted as closely as Suleyman himself could have required.</p> + +<p>Then he stuffed the bottle into a kit-bag, adding a few coals to give it +extra weight, and toiled off with it to the nearest steamboat pier, +where he spent his remaining pence in purchasing a ticket to the Temple.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * * *</p> + +<p>Next day the following paragraph appeared in one of the evening papers, +which probably had more space than usual at its disposal:</p> + +<p class="center">"SINGULAR OCCURRENCE ON A PENNY<br />STEAMER</p> + +<p>"A gentleman on board one of the Thames steamboats (so we are informed +by an eye-witness) met with a somewhat ludicrous mishap yesterday +evening. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> appears that he had with him a small portmanteau, or large +hand-bag, which he was supporting on the rail of the stern bulwark. Just +as the vessel was opposite the Savoy Hotel he incautiously raised his +hand to the brim of his hat, thereby releasing hold of the bag, which +overbalanced itself and fell into the deepest part of the river, where +it instantly sank. The owner (whose carelessness occasioned considerable +amusement to passengers in his immediate vicinity) appeared no little +disconcerted by the oversight, and was not unnaturally reticent as to +the amount of his loss, though he was understood to state that the bag +contained nothing of any great value. However this may be, he has +probably learnt a lesson which will render him more careful in future."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THE EPILOGUE</h2> + +<p>On a certain evening in May Horace Ventimore dined in a private room at +the Savoy, as one of the guests of Mr. Samuel Wackerbath. In fact, he +might almost be said to be the guest of the evening, as the dinner was +given by way of celebrating the completion of the host's new country +house at Lipsfield, of which Horace was the architect, and also to +congratulate him on his approaching marriage (which was fixed to take +place early in the following month) with Miss Sylvia Futvoye.</p> + +<p>"Quite a small and friendly party!" said Mr. Wackerbath, looking round +on his numerous sons and daughters, as he greeted Horace in the +reception-room. "Only ourselves, you see, Miss Futvoye, a young lady +with whom you are fairly well acquainted, and her people, and an old +schoolfellow of mine and his wife, who are not yet arrived. He's a man +of considerable eminence," he added, with a roll of reflected importance +in his voice; "quite worth your cultivating. Sir Lawrence Pountney, his +name is. I don't know if you remember him, but he discharged the onerous +duties of Lord Mayor of London the year before last, and acquitted +himself very creditably—in fact, he got a baronetcy for it."</p> + +<p>As the year before last was the year in which Horace had paid his +involuntary visit to the Guildhall, he was able to reply with truth that +he <i>did</i> remember Sir Lawrence.</p> + +<p>He was not altogether comfortable when the ex-Lord-Mayor was announced, +for it would have been more than awkward if Sir Lawrence had chanced to +remember<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> <i>him</i>. Fortunately, he gave no sign that he did so, though his +manner was graciousness itself. "Delighted, my dear Mr. Ventimore," he +said pressing Horace's hand almost as warmly as he had done that October +day of the dais, "most delighted to make your acquaintance! I am always +glad to meet a rising young man, and I hear that the house you have +designed for my old friend here is a perfect palace—a marvel, sir!"</p> + +<p>"I knew he was my man," declared Mr. Wackerbath, as Horace modestly +disclaimed Sir Lawrence's compliment. "You remember, Pountney, my dear +fellow, that day when we were crossing Westminster Bridge together, and +I was telling you I thought of building? 'Go to one of the leading +men—an R.A. and all that sort of thing,' you said, 'then you'll be sure +of getting your money's worth.' But I said, 'No, I like to choose for +myself; to—ah—exercise my own judgment in these matters. And there's a +young fellow I have in my eye who'll beat 'em all, if he's given the +chance. I'm off to see him now.' And off I went to Great Cloister Street +(for he hadn't those palatial offices of his in Victoria Street at that +time) without losing another instant, and dropped in on him with my +little commission. Didn't I, Ventimore?"</p> + +<p>"You did indeed," said Horace, wondering how far these reminiscences would go.</p> + +<p>"And," continued Mr. Wackerbath, patting Horace on the shoulder, "from +that day to this I've never had a moment's reason to regret it. We've +worked in perfect sympathy. His ideas coincided with mine. I think he +found that I met him, so to speak, on all fours."</p> + +<p>Ventimore assented, though it struck him that a happier expression +might, and would, have been employed if his client had remembered one +particular interview in which he had not figured to advantage.</p> + +<p>They went in to dinner, in a room sumptuously decorated with panels of +grey-green brocade and softly shaded lamps, and screens of gilded +leather; through<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> the centre of the table rose a tall palm, its boughs +hung with small electric globes like magic fruits.</p> + +<p>"This palm," said the Professor, who was in high good humour, "really +gives quite an Oriental look to the table. Personally, I think we might +reproduce the Arabian style of decoration and arrangement generally in +our homes with great advantage. I often wonder it never occurred to my +future son-in-law there to turn his talents in that direction and design +an Oriental interior for himself. Nothing more comfortable and +luxurious—for a bachelor's purposes."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure," said his wife, "Horace managed to make himself quite +comfortable enough as it was. He has the most delightful rooms in +Vincent Square." Ventimore heard her remark to Sir Lawrence: "I shall +never forget the first time we dined there, just after my daughter and +he were engaged. I was quite astonished: everything was so +perfect—quite simple, you know, but <i>so</i> ingeniously arranged, and his +landlady such an excellent cook, too! Still, of course, in many ways, it +will be nicer for him to have a home of his own."</p> + +<p>"With such a beautiful and charming companion to share it with," said +Sir Lawrence, in his most florid manner, "the—ah—poorest home would +prove a Paradise indeed! And I suppose now, my dear young lady," he +added, raising his voice to address Sylvia, "you are busy making your +future abode as exquisite as taste and research can render it, +ransacking all the furniture shops in London for treasures, and going +about to auctions—or do you—ah—delegate that department to Mr. Ventimore?"</p> + +<p>"I do go about to old furniture shops, Sir Lawrence," she said, "but not +auctions. I'm afraid I should only get just the thing I didn't want if I +tried to bid.... And," she added, in a lower voice, turning to Horace, +"I don't believe <i>you</i> would be a bit more successful, Horace!"</p> + +<p>"What makes you say that, Sylvia?" he asked, with a start.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p><p>"Why, do you mean to say you've forgotten how you went to that auction +for papa, and came away without having managed to get a single thing?" +she said. "What a short memory you must have!"</p> + +<p>There was only tender mockery in her eyes; absolutely no recollection of +the sinister purchase he had made at that sale, or how nearly it had +separated them for ever. So he hastened to admit that perhaps he had +<i>not</i> been particularly successful at the auction in question.</p> + +<p>Sir Lawrence next addressed him across the table. "I was just telling +Mrs. Futvoye," he said, "how much I regretted that I had not the +privilege of your acquaintance during my year of office. A Lord Mayor, +as you doubtless know, has exceptional facilities for exercising +hospitality, and it would have afforded me real pleasure if your first +visit to the Guildhall could have been paid under my—hm—ha—auspices."</p> + +<p>"You are very kind," said Horace, very much on his guard; "I could not +wish to pay it under better."</p> + +<p>"I flatter myself," said the ex-Lord Mayor, "that, while in office, I +did my humble best to maintain the traditions of the City, and I was +fortunate enough to have the honour of receiving more than the average +number of celebrities as guests. But I had one great disappointment, I +must tell you. It had always been a dream of mine that it might fall to +my lot to present some distinguished fellow-countryman with the freedom +of the City. By some curious chance, when the opportunity seemed about +to occur, the thing was put off and I missed it—missed it by the +nearest hair-breadth!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, Sir Lawrence," said Ventimore, "one can't have <i>everything</i>!"</p> + +<p>"For my part," put in Lady Pountney, who had only caught a word or two +of her husband's remarks, "what <i>I</i> miss most is having the sentinels +present arms whenever I went out for a drive. They did it so nicely and +respectfully. I confess I enjoyed that. My husband never cared much for +it. Indeed, he wouldn't even use<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> the State coach unless he was +absolutely obliged. He was as obstinate as a mule about it!"</p> + +<p>"I see, Lady Pountney," the Professor put in, "that you share the common +prejudice against mules. It's quite a mistaken one. The mule has never +been properly appreciated in this country. He is really the gentlest and +most docile of creatures!"</p> + +<p>"I can't say I like them myself," said Lady Pountney; "such a mongrel +sort of animal—neither one thing nor the other!"</p> + +<p>"And they're hideous too, Anthony," added his wife. "And not at all clever!"</p> + +<p>"There you're mistaken, my dear," said the Professor; "they are capable +of almost human intelligence. I have had considerable personal +experience of what a mule can do," he informed Lady Pountney, who seemed +still incredulous. "More than most people indeed, and I can assure you, +my dear Lady Pountney, that they readily adapt themselves to almost any +environment, and will endure the greatest hardships without exhibiting +any signs of distress. I see by your expression, Ventimore, that you +don't agree with me, eh?"</p> + +<p>Horace had to set his teeth hard for a moment, lest he should disgrace +himself by a peal of untimely mirth—but by a strong effort of will he +managed to command his muscles.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir," he said, "I've only chanced to come into close contact with +one mule in my life, and, frankly, I've no desire to repeat the experience."</p> + +<p>"You happened to come upon an unfavourable specimen, that's all," said +the Professor. "There are exceptions to every rule."</p> + +<p>"This animal," Horace said, "was certainly exceptional enough in every way."</p> + +<p>"Do tell us all about it," pleaded one of the Miss Wackerbaths, and all +the ladies joined in the entreaty until Horace found himself under the +necessity of im<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>provising a story, which, it must be confessed, fell +exceedingly flat.</p> + +<p>This final ordeal past, he grew silent and thoughtful, as he sat there +by Sylvia's side, looking out through the glazed gallery outside upon +the spring foliage along the Embankment, the opaline river, and the shot +towers and buildings on the opposite bank glowing warm brown against an +evening sky of silvery blue.</p> + +<p>Not for the first time did it seem strange, incredible almost, to him +that all these people should be so utterly without any recollection of +events which surely might have been expected to leave some trace upon +the least retentive memory—and yet it only proved once more how +thoroughly and honourably the old Jinnee, now slumbering placidly in his +bottle deep down in unfathomable mud, opposite the very spot where they +were dining, had fulfilled his last undertaking.</p> + +<p>Fakrash, the brass bottle, and all the fantastic and embarrassing +performances were indeed as totally forgotten as though they had never been.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * * *</p> + +<p>And it is but too probable that even this modest and veracious account +of them will prove to have been included in the general act of +oblivion—though the author will trust as long as possible that +Fakrash-el-Aamash may have neglected to provide for this particular +case, and that the history of the Brass Bottle may thus be permitted to +linger awhile in the memories of some at least of its readers.</p> + +<p class="tbrk"> </p> + +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BRASS BOTTLE***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 30689-h.txt or 30689-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/0/6/8/30689">http://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/6/8/30689</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL</a> + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** +</pre> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/30689.txt b/30689.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7cfaa80 --- /dev/null +++ b/30689.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8736 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Brass Bottle, by F. Anstey + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Brass Bottle + + +Author: F. Anstey + + + +Release Date: December 16, 2009 [eBook #30689] +[Last updated: April 13, 2011] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BRASS BOTTLE*** + + +E-text prepared by David Clarke, Martin Pettit, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) + + + +THE BRASS BOTTLE + +by + +F. ANSTEY + +First Published, October, 1900 + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER PAGE + + I. HORACE VENTIMORE RECEIVES A COMMISSION 1 + + II. A CHEAP LOT 12 + + III. AN UNEXPECTED OPENING 18 + + IV. AT LARGE 31 + + V. CARTE BLANCHE 36 + + VI. EMBARRAS DE RICHESSES 51 + + VII. "GRATITUDE--A LIVELY SENSE OF FAVOURS TO COME" 62 + + VIII. BACHELOR'S QUARTERS 75 + + IX. "PERSICOS ODI, PUER, APPARATUS" 85 + + X. NO PLACE LIKE HOME! 107 + + XI. A FOOL'S PARADISE 115 + + XII. THE MESSENGER OF HOPE 132 + + XIII. A CHOICE OF EVILS 143 + + XIV. "SINCE THERE'S NO HELP, COME, LET US KISS + AND PART!" 158 + + XV. BLUSHING HONOURS 174 + + XVI. A KILLING FROST 182 + + XVII. HIGH WORDS 193 + +XVIII. A GAME OF BLUFF 204 + + THE EPILOGUE 222 + + + + +THE BRASS BOTTLE + + + + +CHAPTER I + +HORACE VENTIMORE RECEIVES A COMMISSION + + +"This day six weeks--just six weeks ago!" Horace Ventimore said, half +aloud, to himself, and pulled out his watch. "Half-past twelve--what was +I doing at half-past twelve?" + +As he sat at the window of his office in Great Cloister Street, +Westminster, he made his thoughts travel back to a certain glorious +morning in August which now seemed so remote and irrecoverable. At this +precise time he was waiting on the balcony of the Hotel de la Plage--the +sole hostelry of St. Luc-en-Port, the tiny Normandy watering-place upon +which, by some happy inspiration, he had lighted during a solitary +cycling tour--waiting until She should appear. + +He could see the whole scene: the tiny cove, with the violet shadow of +the cliff sleeping on the green water; the swell of the waves lazily +lapping against the diving-board from which he had plunged half an hour +before; he remembered the long swim out to the buoy; the exhilarated +anticipation with which he had dressed and climbed the steep path to the +hotel terrace. + +For was he not to pass the whole remainder of that blissful day in +Sylvia Futvoye's society? Were they not to cycle together (there were, +of course, others of the party--but they did not count), to cycle over +to Veulettes, to picnic there under the cliff, and ride back--always +together--in the sweet-scented dusk, over the slopes, between the +poplars or the cornfields glowing golden against a sky of warm purple? + +Now he saw himself going round to the gravelled courtyard in front of +the hotel with a sudden dread of missing her. There was nothing there +but the little low cart, with its canvas tilt which was to convey +Professor Futvoye and his wife to the place of _rendezvous_. + +There was Sylvia at last, distractingly fair and fresh in her cool pink +blouse and cream-coloured skirt; how gracious and friendly and generally +delightful she had been throughout that unforgettable day, which was +supreme amongst others only a little less perfect, and all now fled for +ever! + +They had had drawbacks, it was true. Old Futvoye was perhaps the least +bit of a bore at times, with his interminable disquisitions on Egyptian +art and ancient Oriental character-writing, in which he seemed convinced +that Horace must feel a perfervid interest, as, indeed, he thought it +politic to affect. The Professor was a most learned archaeologist, and +positively bulged with information on his favourite subjects; but it is +just possible that Horace might have been less curious concerning the +distinction between Cuneiform and Aramaean or Kufic and Arabic +inscriptions if his informant had happened to be the father of anybody +else. However, such insincerities as these are but so many evidences of +sincerity. + +So with self-tormenting ingenuity Horace conjured up various pictures +from that Norman holiday of his: the little half-timbered cottages with +their faded blue shutters and the rushes growing out of their thatch +roofs; the spires of village churches gleaming above the bronze-green +beeches; the bold headlands, their ochre and yellow cliffs contrasting +grimly with the soft ridges of the turf above them; the tethered +black-and-white cattle grazing peacefully against a background of lapis +lazuli and malachite sea, and in every scene the sensation of Sylvia's +near presence, the sound of her voice in his ears. And now?... He looked +up from the papers and tracing-cloth on his desk, and round the small +panelled room which served him as an office, at the framed plans and +photographs, the set squares and T squares on the walls, and felt a dull +resentment against his surroundings. From his window he commanded a +cheerful view of a tall, mouldering wall, once part of the Abbey +boundaries, surmounted by _chevaux-de-frise_, above whose +rust-attenuated spikes some plane trees stretched their yellowing +branches. + +"She would have come to care for me," Horace's thoughts ran on, +disjointedly. "I could have sworn that that last day of all--and her +people didn't seem to object to me. Her mother asked me cordially enough +to call on them when they were back in town. When I did----" + +When he had called, there had been a difference--not an unusual sequel +to an acquaintanceship begun in a Continental watering-place. It was +difficult to define, but unmistakable--a certain formality and +constraint on Mrs. Futvoye's part, and even on Sylvia's, which seemed +intended to warn him that it is not every friendship that survives the +Channel passage. So he had gone away sore at heart, but fully +recognising that any advances in future must come from their side. They +might ask him to dinner, or at least to call again; but more than a +month had passed, and they had made no sign. No, it was all over; he +must consider himself dropped. + +"After all," he told himself, with a short and anything but mirthful +laugh, "it's natural enough. Mrs. Futvoye has probably been making +inquiries about my professional prospects. It's better as it is. What +earthly chance have I got of marrying unless I can get work of my own? +It's all I can do to keep myself decently. I've no right to dream of +asking any one--to say nothing of Sylvia--to marry me. I should only be +rushing into temptation if I saw any more of her. She's not for a poor +beggar like me, who was born unlucky. Well, whining won't do any +good--let's have a look at Beevor's latest performance." + +He spread out a large coloured plan, in a corner of which appeared the +name of "William Beevor, Architect," and began to study it in a spirit +of anything but appreciation. + +"Beevor gets on," he said to himself. "Heaven knows that I don't grudge +him his success. He's a good fellow--though he _does_ build +architectural atrocities, and seem to like 'em. Who am I to give myself +airs? He's successful--I'm not. Yet if I only had his opportunities, +what wouldn't I make of them!" + +Let it be said here that this was not the ordinary self-delusion of an +incompetent. Ventimore really had talent above the average, with ideals +and ambitions which might under better conditions have attained +recognition and fulfilment before this. + +But he was not quite energetic enough, besides being too proud, to push +himself into notice, and hitherto he had met with persistent ill-luck. + +So Horace had no other occupation now but to give Beevor, whose offices +and clerk he shared, such slight assistance as he might require, and it +was by no means cheering to feel that every year of this enforced +semi-idleness left him further handicapped in the race for wealth and +fame, for he had already passed his twenty-eighth birthday. + +If Miss Sylvia Futvoye had indeed felt attracted towards him at one time +it was not altogether incomprehensible. Horace Ventimore was not a model +of manly beauty--models of manly beauty are rare out of novels, and +seldom interesting in them; but his clear-cut, clean-shaven face +possessed a certain distinction, and if there were faint satirical lines +about the mouth, they were redeemed by the expression of the grey-blue +eyes, which were remarkably frank and pleasant. He was well made, and +tall enough to escape all danger of being described as short; +fair-haired and pale, without being unhealthily pallid, in complexion, +and he gave the impression of being a man who took life as it came, and +whose sense of humour would serve as a lining for most clouds that might +darken his horizon. + +There was a rap at the door which communicated with Beevor's office, and +Beevor himself, a florid, thick-set man, with small side-whiskers, burst +in. + +"I say, Ventimore, you didn't run off with the plans for that house I'm +building at Larchmere, did you? Because--ah, I see you're looking over +them. Sorry to deprive you, but----" + +"Thanks, old fellow, take them, by all means. I've seen all I wanted to +see." + +"Well, I'm just off to Larchmere now. Want to be there to check the +quantities, and there's my other house at Fittlesdon. I must go on +afterwards and set it out, so I shall probably be away some days. I'm +taking Harrison down, too. You won't be wanting him, eh?" + +Ventimore laughed. "I can manage to do nothing without a clerk to help +me. Your necessity is greater than mine. Here are the plans." + +"I'm rather pleased with 'em myself, you know," said Beevor; "that roof +ought to look well, eh? Good idea of mine lightening the slate with that +ornamental tile-work along the top. You saw I put in one of your windows +with just a trifling addition. I was almost inclined to keep both gables +alike, as you suggested, but it struck me a little variety--one red +brick and the other 'parged'--would be more out-of-the-way." + +"Oh, much," agreed Ventimore, knowing that to disagree was useless. + +"Not, mind you," continued Beevor, "that I believe in going in for too +much originality in domestic architecture. The average client no more +wants an original house than he wants an original hat; he wants +something he won't feel a fool in. I've often thought, old man, that +perhaps the reason why you haven't got on----you don't mind my speaking +candidly, do you?" + +"Not a bit," said Ventimore, cheerfully. "Candour's the cement of +friendship. Dab it on." + +"Well, I was only going to say that you do yourself no good by all those +confoundedly unconventional ideas of yours. If you had your chance +to-morrow, it's my belief you'd throw it away by insisting on some +fantastic fad or other." + +"These speculations are a trifle premature, considering that there +doesn't seem the remotest prospect of my ever getting a chance at all." + +"I got mine before I'd set up six months," said Beevor. "The great +thing, however," he went on, with a flavour of personal application, "is +to know how to use it when it _does_ come. Well, I must be off if I mean +to catch that one o'clock from Waterloo. You'll see to anything that may +come in for me while I'm away, won't you, and let me know? Oh, by the +way, the quantity surveyor has just sent in the quantities for that +schoolroom at Woodford--do you mind running through them and seeing +they're right? And there's the specification for the new wing at +Tusculum Lodge--you might draft that some time when you've nothing else +to do. You'll find all the papers on my desk. Thanks awfully, old chap." + +And Beevor hurried back to his own room, where for the next few minutes +he could be heard bustling Harrison, the clerk, to make haste; then a +hansom was whistled for, there were footsteps down the old stairs, the +sounds of a departing vehicle on the uneven stones, and after that +silence and solitude. + +It was not in Nature to avoid feeling a little envious. Beevor had work +to do in the world: even if it chiefly consisted in profaning sylvan +retreats by smug or pretentious villas, it was still work which +entitled him to consideration and respect in the eyes of all +right-minded persons. + +And nobody believed in Horace; as yet he had never known the +satisfaction of seeing the work of his brain realised in stone and brick +and mortar; no building stood anywhere to bear testimony to his +existence and capability long after he himself should have passed away. + +It was not a profitable train of thought, and, to escape from it, he +went into Beevor's room and fetched the documents he had mentioned--at +least they would keep him occupied until it was time to go to his club +and lunch. He had no sooner settled down to his calculations, however, +when he heard a shuffling step on the landing, followed by a knock at +Beevor's office-door. "More work for Beevor," he thought; "what luck the +fellow has! I'd better go in and explain that he's just left town on +business." + +But on entering the adjoining room he heard the knocking repeated--this +time at his own door; and hastening back to put an end to this somewhat +undignified form of hide-and-seek, he discovered that this visitor at +least was legitimately his, and was, in fact, no other than Professor +Anthony Futvoye himself. + +The Professor was standing in the doorway peering short-sightedly +through his convex glasses, his head protruded from his loosely-fitting +great-coat with an irresistible suggestion of an inquiring tortoise. To +Horace his appearance was more welcome than that of the wealthiest +client--for why should Sylvia's father take the trouble to pay him this +visit unless he still wished to continue the acquaintanceship? It might +even be that he was the bearer of some message or invitation. + +So, although to an impartial eye the Professor might not seem the kind +of elderly gentleman whose society would produce any wild degree of +exhilaration, Horace was unfeignedly delighted to see him. + +"Extremely kind of you to come and see me like this, sir," he said +warmly, after establishing him in the solitary armchair reserved for +hypothetical clients. + +"Not at all. I'm afraid your visit to Cottesmore Gardens some time ago +was somewhat of a disappointment." + +"A disappointment?" echoed Horace, at a loss to know what was coming +next. + +"I refer to the fact--which possibly, however, escaped your +notice"--explained the Professor, scratching his scanty patch of +grizzled whisker with a touch of irascibility, "that I myself was not at +home on that occasion." + +"Indeed, I was greatly disappointed," said Horace, "though of course I +know how much you are engaged. It's all the more good of you to spare +time to drop in for a chat just now." + +"I've not come to chat, Mr. Ventimore. I never chat. I wanted to see you +about a matter which I thought you might be so obliging as to---- But I +observe you are busy--probably too busy to attend to such a small +affair." + +It was clear enough now; the Professor was going to build, and had +decided--could it be at Sylvia's suggestion?--to entrust the work to +him! But he contrived to subdue any self-betraying eagerness, and reply +(as he could with perfect truth) that he had nothing on hand just then +which he could not lay aside, and that if the Professor would let him +know what he required, he would take it up at once. + +"So much the better," said the Professor; "so much the better. Both my +wife and daughter declared that it was making far too great a demand +upon your good nature; but, as I told them, 'I am much mistaken,' I +said, 'if Mr. Ventimore's practice is so extensive that he cannot leave +it for one afternoon----'" + +Evidently it was not a house. Could he be needed to escort them +somewhere that afternoon? Even that was more than he had hoped for a few +minutes since. He hastened to repeat that he was perfectly free that +afternoon. + +"In that case," said the Professor, beginning to fumble in all his +pockets--was he searching for a note in Sylvia's handwriting?--"in that +case, you will be conferring a real favour on me if you can make it +convenient to attend a sale at Hammond's Auction Rooms in Covent Garden, +and just bid for one or two articles on my behalf." + +Whatever disappointment Ventimore felt, it may be said to his credit +that he allowed no sign of it to appear. "Of course I'll go, with +pleasure," he said, "if I can be of any use." + +"I knew I shouldn't come to you in vain," said the Professor. "I +remembered your wonderful good nature, sir, in accompanying my wife and +daughter on all sorts of expeditions in the blazing hot weather we had +at St. Luc--when you might have remained quietly at the hotel with me. +Not that I should trouble you now, only I have to lunch at the Oriental +Club, and I've an appointment afterwards to examine and report on a +recently-discovered inscribed cylinder for the Museum, which will fully +occupy the rest of the afternoon, so that it's physically impossible for +me to go to Hammond's myself, and I strongly object to employing a +broker when I can avoid it. Where did I put that catalogue?... Ah, here +it is. This was sent to me by the executors of my old friend, General +Collingham, who died the other day. I met him at Nakada when I was out +excavating some years ago. He was something of a collector in his way, +though he knew very little about it, and, of course, was taken in right +and left. Most of his things are downright rubbish, but there are just a +few lots that are worth securing, at a reasonable figure, by some one +who knew what he was about." + +"But, my dear Professor," remonstrated Horace, not relishing this +responsibility, "I'm afraid I'm as likely as not to pick up some of the +rubbish. I've no special knowledge of Oriental curios." + +"At St. Luc," said the Professor, "you impressed me as having, for an +amateur, an exceptionally accurate and comprehensive acquaintance with +Egyptian and Arabian art from the earliest period." (If this were so, +Horace could only feel with shame what a fearful humbug he must have +been.) "However, I've no wish to lay too heavy a burden on you, and, as +you will see from this catalogue, I have ticked off the lots in which I +am chiefly interested, and made a note of the limit to which I am +prepared to bid, so you'll have no difficulty." + +"Very well," said Horace; "I'll go straight to Covent Garden, and slip +out and get some lunch later on." + +"Well, perhaps, if you don't mind. The lots I have marked seem to come +on at rather frequent intervals, but don't let that consideration deter +you from getting your lunch, and if you _should_ miss anything by not +being on the spot, why, it's of no consequence, though I don't say it +mightn't be a pity. In any case, you won't forget to mark what each lot +fetches, and perhaps you wouldn't mind dropping me a line when you +return the catalogue--or stay, could you look in some time after dinner +this evening, and let me know how you got on?--that would be better." + +Horace thought it would be decidedly better, and undertook to call and +render an account of his stewardship that evening. There remained the +question of a deposit, should one or more of the lots be knocked down to +him; and, as he was obliged to own that he had not so much as ten pounds +about him at that particular moment, the Professor extracted a note for +that amount from his case, and handed it to him with the air of a +benevolent person relieving a deserving object. "Don't exceed my +limits," he said, "for I can't afford more just now; and mind you give +Hammond your own name, not mine. If the dealers get to know I'm after +the things, they'll run you up. And now, I don't think I need detain you +any longer, especially as time is running on. I'm sure I can trust you +to do the best you can for me. Till this evening, then." + +A few minutes later Horace was driving up to Covent Garden behind the +best-looking horse he could pick out. + +The Professor might have required from him rather more than was strictly +justified by their acquaintanceship, and taken his acquiescence too much +as a matter of course--but what of that? After all, he was Sylvia's +parent. + +"Even with _my_ luck," he was thinking, "I ought to succeed in getting +at least one or two of the lots he's marked; and if I can only please +him, something may come of it." + +And in this sanguine mood Horace entered Messrs. Hammond's well-known +auction rooms. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +A CHEAP LOT + + +In spite of the fact that it was the luncheon hour when Ventimore +reached Hammond's Auction Rooms, he found the big, skylighted gallery +where the sale of the furniture and effects of the late General +Collingham was proceeding crowded to a degree which showed that the +deceased officer had some reputation as a _connoisseur_. + +The narrow green baize tables below the auctioneer's rostrum were +occupied by professional dealers, one or two of them women, who sat, +paper and pencil in hand, with much the same air of apparent apathy and +real vigilance that may be noticed in the Casino at Monte Carlo. Around +them stood a decorous and businesslike crowd, mostly dealers, of various +types. On a magisterial-looking bench sat the auctioneer, conducting the +sale with a judicial impartiality and dignity which forbade him, even in +his most laudatory comments, the faintest accent of enthusiasm. + +The October sunshine, striking through the glazed roof, re-gilded the +tarnished gas-stars, and suffused the dusty atmosphere with palest gold. +But somehow the utter absence of excitement in the crowd, the calm, +methodical tone of the auctioneer, and the occasional mournful cry of +"Lot here, gentlemen!" from the porter when any article was too large to +move, all served to depress Ventimore's usually mercurial spirits. + +For all Horace knew, the collection as a whole might be of little value, +but it very soon became clear that others besides Professor Futvoye had +singled out such gems as there were, also that the Professor had +considerably under-rated the prices they were likely to fetch. + +Ventimore made his bids with all possible discretion, but time after +time he found the competition for some perforated mosque lantern, +engraved ewer, or ancient porcelain tile so great that his limit was +soon reached, and his sole consolation was that the article eventually +changed hands for sums which were very nearly double the Professor's +estimate. + +Several dealers and brokers, despairing of a bargain that day, left, +murmuring profanities; most of those who remained ceased to take a +serious interest in the proceedings, and consoled themselves with cheap +witticisms at every favourable occasion. + +The sale dragged slowly on, and, what with continual disappointment and +want of food, Horace began to feel so weary that he was glad, as the +crowd thinned, to get a seat at one of the green baize tables, by which +time the skylights had already changed from livid grey to slate colour +in the deepening dusk. + +A couple of meek Burmese Buddhas had just been put up, and bore the +indignity of being knocked down for nine-and-sixpence the pair with +dreamy, inscrutable simpers; Horace only waited for the final lot marked +by the Professor--an old Persian copper bowl, inlaid with silver and +engraved round the rim with an inscription from Hafiz. + +The limit to which he was authorised to go was two pounds ten; but, so +desperately anxious was Ventimore not to return empty-handed, that he +had made up his mind to bid an extra sovereign if necessary, and say +nothing about it. + +However, the bowl was put up, and the bidding soon rose to three pounds +ten, four pounds, four pounds ten, five pounds, five guineas, for which +last sum it was acquired by a bearded man on Horace's right, who +immediately began to regard his purchase with a more indulgent eye. + +Ventimore had done his best, and failed; there was no reason now why he +should stay a moment longer--and yet he sat on, from sheer fatigue and +disinclination to move. + +"Now we come to Lot 254, gentlemen," he heard the auctioneer saying, +mechanically; "a capital Egyptian mummy-case in fine con---- No, I beg +pardon, I'm wrong. This is an article which by some mistake has been +omitted from the catalogue, though it ought to have been in it. +Everything on sale to-day, gentlemen, belonged to the late General +Collingham. We'll call this No. 253_a_. Antique brass bottle. Very +curious." + +One of the porters carried the bottle in between the tables, and set it +down before the dealers at the farther end with a tired nonchalance. + +It was an old, squat, pot-bellied vessel, about two feet high, with a +long thick neck, the mouth of which was closed by a sort of metal +stopper or cap; there was no visible decoration on its sides, which were +rough and pitted by some incrustation that had formed on them, and been +partially scraped off. As a piece of _bric-a-brac_ it certainly +possessed few attractions, and there was a marked tendency to "guy" it +among the more frivolous brethren. + +"What do you call this, sir?" inquired one of the auctioneer, with the +manner of a cheeky boy trying to get a rise out of his form-master. "Is +it as 'unique' as the others?" + +"You're as well able to judge as I am," was the guarded reply. "Any one +can see for himself it's not modern rubbish." + +"Make a pretty little ornament for the mantelpiece!" remarked a wag. + +"Is the top made to unscrew, or what, sir?" asked a third. "Seems fixed +on pretty tight." + +"I can't say. Probably it has not been removed for some time." + +"It's a goodish weight," said the chief humorist, after handling it. +"What's inside of it, sir--sardines?" + +"I don't represent it as having anything inside it," said the +auctioneer. "If you want to know my opinion, I think there's money in +it." + +"'Ow much?" + +"Don't misunderstand me, gentlemen. When I say I consider there's money +in it, I'm not alluding to its contents. I've no reason to believe that +it contains anything. I'm merely suggesting the thing itself may be +worth more than it looks." + +"Ah, it might be _that_ without 'urting itself!" + +"Well, well, don't let us waste time. Look upon it as a pure +speculation, and make me an offer for it, some of you. Come." + +"Tuppence-'ap'ny!" cried the comic man, affecting to brace himself for a +mighty effort. + +"Pray be serious, gentlemen. We want to get on, you know. Anything to +make a start. Five shillings? It's not the value of the metal, but I'll +take the bid. Six. Look at it well. It's not an article you come across +every day of your lives." + +The bottle was still being passed round with disrespectful raps and +slaps, and it had now come to Ventimore's right-hand neighbour, who +scrutinised it carefully, but made no bid. + +"That's all _right_, you know," he whispered in Horace's ear. "That's +good stuff, that is. If I was you, I'd _'ave_ that." + +"Seven shillings--eight--nine bid for it over there in the corner," said +the auctioneer. + +"If you think it's so good, why don't you have it yourself?" Horace +asked his neighbour. + +"Me? Oh, well, it ain't exactly in my line, and getting this last lot +pretty near cleaned me out. I've done for to-day, I 'ave. All the same, +it is a curiosity; dunno as I've seen a brass vawse just that shape +before, and it's genuine old, though all these fellers are too ignorant +to know the value of it. So I don't mind giving you the tip." + +Horace rose, the better to examine the top. As far as he could make out +in the flickering light of one of the gas-stars, which the auctioneer +had just ordered to be lit, there were half-erased scratches and +triangular marks on the cap that might possibly be an inscription. If +so, might there not be the means here of regaining the Professor's +favour, which he felt that, as it was, he should probably forfeit, +justly or not, by his ill-success? + +He could hardly spend the Professor's money on it, since it was not in +the catalogue, and he had no authority to bid for it, but he had a few +shillings of his own to spare. Why not bid for it on his own account as +long as he could afford to do so? If he were outbid, as usual, it would +not particularly matter. + +"Thirteen shillings," the auctioneer was saying, in his dispassionate +tones. Horace caught his eye, and slightly raised his catalogue, while +another man nodded at the same time. "Fourteen in two places." Horace +raised his catalogue again. "I won't go beyond fifteen," he thought. + +"Fifteen. It's _against_ you, sir. Any advance on fifteen? Sixteen--this +very quaint old Oriental bottle going for only sixteen shillings. + +"After all," thought Horace, "I don't mind anything under a pound for +it." And he bid seventeen shillings. "Eighteen," cried his rival, a +short, cheery, cherub-faced little dealer, whose neighbours adjured him +to "sit quiet like a good little boy and not waste his pocket-money." + +"Nineteen!" said Horace. "Pound!" answered the cherubic man. + +"A pound only bid for this grand brass vessel," said the auctioneer, +indifferently. "All done at a pound?" + +Horace thought another shilling or two would not ruin him, and nodded. + +"A guinea. For the last time. You'll _lose_ it, sir," said the +auctioneer to the little man. + +"Go on, Tommy. Don't you be beat. Spring another bob on it, Tommy," his +friends advised him ironically; but Tommy shook his head, with the air +of a man who knows when to draw the line. "One guinea--and that's not +half its value! Gentleman on my left," said the auctioneer, more in +sorrow than in anger--and the brass bottle became Ventimore's property. + +He paid for it, and, since he could hardly walk home nursing a large +metal bottle without attracting an inconvenient amount of attention, +directed that it should be sent to his lodgings at Vincent Square. + +But when he was out in the fresh air, walking westward to his club, he +found himself wondering more and more what could have possessed him to +throw away a guinea--when he had few enough for legitimate expenses--on +an article of such exceedingly problematical value. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +AN UNEXPECTED OPENING + + +Ventimore made his way to Cottesmore Gardens that evening in a highly +inconsistent, not to say chaotic, state of mind. The thought that he +would presently see Sylvia again made his blood course quicker, while he +was fully determined to say no more to her than civility demanded. + +At one moment he was blessing Professor Futvoye for his happy thought in +making use of him; at another he was bitterly recognising that it would +have been better for his peace of mind if he had been left alone. Sylvia +and her mother had no desire to see more of him; if they had, they would +have asked him to come before this. No doubt they would tolerate him now +for the Professor's sake; but who would not rather be ignored than +tolerated? + +The more often he saw Sylvia the more she would make his heart ache with +vain longing--whereas he was getting almost reconciled to her +indifference; he would very soon be cured if he didn't see her. + +Why _should_ he see her? He need not go in at all. He had merely to +leave the catalogue with his compliments, and the Professor would learn +all he wanted to know. + +On second thoughts he must go in--if only to return the bank-note. But +he would ask to see the Professor in private. Most probably he would not +be invited to join his wife and daughter, but if he were, he could make +some excuse. They might think it a little odd--a little discourteous, +perhaps; but they would be too relieved to care much about that. + +When he got to Cottesmore Gardens, and was actually at the door of the +Futvoyes' house, one of the neatest and demurest in that retired and +irreproachable quarter, he began to feel a craven hope that the +Professor might be out, in which case he need only leave the catalogue +and write a letter when he got home, reporting his non-success at the +sale, and returning the note. + +And, as it happened, the Professor _was_ out, and Horace was not so glad +as he thought he should be. The maid told him that the ladies were in +the drawing-room, and seemed to take it for granted that he was coming +in, so he had himself announced. He would not stay long--just long +enough to explain his business there, and make it clear that he had no +wish to force his acquaintance upon them. He found Mrs. Futvoye in the +farther part of the pretty double drawing-room, writing letters, and +Sylvia, more dazzlingly fair than ever in some sort of gauzy black frock +with a heliotrope sash and a bunch of Parma violets on her breast, was +comfortably established with a book in the front room, and seemed +surprised, if not resentful, at having to disturb herself. + +"I must apologise," he began, with an involuntary stiffness, "for +calling at this very unceremonious time; but the fact is, the +Professor----" + +"I know all about it," interrupted Mrs. Futvoye, brusquely, while her +shrewd, light-grey eyes took him in with a cool stare that was +humorously observant without being aggressive. "We heard how shamefully +my husband abused your good-nature. Really, it was too bad of him to ask +a busy man like you to put aside his work and go and spend a whole day +at that stupid auction!" + +"Oh, I'd nothing particular to do. I can't call myself a busy +man--unfortunately," said Horace, with that frankness which scorns to +conceal what other people know perfectly well already. + +"Ah, well, it's very nice of you to make light of it; but he ought not +to have done it--after so short an acquaintance, too. And to make it +worse, he has had to go out unexpectedly this evening, but he'll be back +before very long if you don't mind waiting." + +"There's really no need to wait," said Horace, "because this catalogue +will tell him everything, and, as the particular things he wanted went +for much more than he thought, I wasn't able to get any of them." + +"I'm sure I'm very glad of it," said Mrs. Futvoye, "for his study is +crammed with odds and ends as it is, and I don't want the whole house to +look like a museum or an antiquity shop. I'd all the trouble in the +world to persuade him that a great gaudy gilded mummy-case was not quite +the thing for a drawing-room. But, please sit down, Mr. Ventimore." + +"Thanks," stammered Horace, "but--but I mustn't stay. If you will tell +the Professor how sorry I was to miss him, and--and give him back this +note which he left with me to cover any deposit, I--I won't interrupt +you any longer." + +He was, as a rule, imperturbable in most social emergencies, but just +now he was seized with a wild desire to escape, which, to his infinite +mortification, made him behave like a shy schoolboy. + +"Nonsense!" said Mrs. Futvoye; "I am sure my husband would be most +annoyed if we didn't keep you till he came." + +"I really ought to go," he declared, wistfully enough. + +"We mustn't tease Mr. Ventimore to stay, mother, when he so evidently +wants to go," said Sylvia, cruelly. + +"Well, I won't detain you--at least, not long. I wonder if you would +mind posting a letter for me as you pass the pillar-box? I've almost +finished it, and it ought to go to-night, and my maid Jessie has such a +bad cold I really don't like sending her out with it." + +It would have been impossible to refuse to stay after that--even if he +had wished. It would only be for a few minutes. Sylvia might spare him +that much of her time. He should not trouble her again. So Mrs. Futvoye +went back to her bureau, and Sylvia and he were practically alone. + +She had taken a seat not far from his, and made a few constrained +remarks, obviously out of sheer civility. He returned mechanical +replies, with a dreary wonder whether this could really be the girl who +had talked to him with such charming friendliness and confidence only a +few weeks ago in Normandy. + +And the worst of it was, she was looking more bewitching than ever; her +slim arms gleaming through the black lace of her sleeves, and the gold +threads in her soft masses of chestnut hair sparkling in the light of +the shaded lamp behind her. The slight contraction of her eyebrows and +the mutinous downward curve of her mouth seemed expressive of boredom. + +"What a dreadfully long time mamma is over that letter!" she said at +last. "I think I'd better go and hurry her up." + +"Please don't--unless you are particularly anxious to get rid of me." + +"I thought you seemed particularly anxious to escape," she said coldly. +"And, as a family, we have certainly taken up quite enough of your time +for one day." + +"That is not the way you used to talk at St. Luc!" he said. + +"At St. Luc? Perhaps not. But in London everything is so different, you +see." + +"Very different." + +"When one meets people abroad who--who seem at all inclined to be +sociable," she continued, "one is so apt to think them pleasanter than +they really are. Then one meets them again, and--and wonders what one +ever saw to like in them. And it's no use pretending one feels the same, +because they generally understand sooner or later. Don't you find that?" + +"I do, indeed," he said, wincing, "though I don't know what I've done to +deserve that you should tell me so!" + +"Oh, I was not blaming you. You have been most angelic. I can't think +how papa could have expected you to take all that trouble for +him--still, you did, though you must have simply hated it." + +"But, good heavens! don't you know I should be only too delighted to be +of the least service to him--or to any of you?" + +"You looked anything but delighted when you came in just now; you looked +as if your one idea was to get it over as soon as you could. You know +perfectly well you're longing now for mother to finish her letter and +set you free. Do you really think I can't see that?" + +"If all that is true, or partly true," said Horace, "can't you guess +why?" + +"I guessed how it was when you called here first that afternoon. Mamma +had asked you to, and you thought you might as well be civil; perhaps +you really did think it would be pleasant to see us again--but it wasn't +the same thing. Oh, I saw it in your face directly--you became +conventional and distant and horrid, and it made me horrid too; and you +went away determined that you wouldn't see any more of us than you could +help. That's why I was so furious when I heard that papa had been to see +you, and with such an object." + +All this was so near the truth, and yet missed it with such perverse +ingenuity, that Horace felt bound to put himself right. + +"Perhaps I ought to leave things as they are," he said, "but I can't. +It's no earthly use, I know; but may I tell you why it really was +painful to me to meet you again? I thought _you_ were changed, that you +wished to forget, and wished me to forget--only I can't--that we had +been friends for a short time. And though I never blamed you--it was +natural enough--it hit me pretty hard--so hard that I didn't feel +anxious to repeat the experience." + +"Did it hit you hard?" said Sylvia, softly. "Perhaps I minded too, just +a very little. However," she added, with a sudden smile, that made two +enchanting dimples in her cheeks, "it only shows how much more sensible +it is to have things out. _Now_ perhaps you won't persist in keeping +away from us?" + +"I believe," said Horace, gloomily, still determined not to let any +direct avowal pass his lips, "it would be best that I _should_ keep +away." + +Her half-closed eyes shone through their long lashes; the violets on her +breast rose and fell. "I don't think I understand," she said, in a tone +that was both hurt and offended. + +There is a pleasure in yielding to some temptations that more than +compensates for the pain of any previous resistance. Come what might, he +was not going to be misunderstood any longer. + +"If I must tell you," he said, "I've fallen desperately, hopelessly, in +love with you. Now you know the reason." + +"It doesn't seem a very good reason for wanting to go away and never see +me again. _Does_ it?" + +"Not when I've no right to speak to you of love?" + +"But you've done that!" + +"I know," he said penitently; "I couldn't help it. But I never meant to. +It slipped out. I quite understand how hopeless it is." + +"Of course, if you are so sure as all that, you are quite right not to +try." + +"Sylvia! You can't mean that--that you do care, after all?" + +"Didn't you really see?" she said, with a low, happy laugh. "How stupid +of you! And how dear!" + +He caught her hand, which she allowed to rest contentedly in his. "Oh, +Sylvia! Then you do--you do! But, my God, what a selfish brute I am! For +we can't marry. It may be years before I can ask you to come to me. You +father and mother wouldn't hear of your being engaged to me." + +"_Need_ they hear of it just yet, Horace?" + +"Yes, they must. I should feel a cur if I didn't tell your mother, at +all events." + +"Then you shan't feel a cur, for we'll go and tell her together." And +Sylvia rose and went into the farther room, and put her arms round her +mother's neck. "Mother darling," she said, in a half whisper, "it's +really all your fault for writing such very long letters, but--but--we +don't exactly know how we came to do it--but Horace and I have got +engaged somehow. You aren't _very_ angry, are you?" + +"I think you're both extremely foolish," said Mrs. Futvoye, as she +extricated herself from Sylvia's arms and turned to face Horace. "From +all I hear, Mr. Ventimore, you're not in a position to marry at +present." + +"Unfortunately, no" said Horace; "I'm making nothing as yet. But my +chance must come some day. I don't ask you to give me Sylvia till then." + +"And you know you like Horace, mother!" pleaded Sylvia. "And I'm ready +to wait for him, any time. Nothing will induce me to give him up, and I +shall never, never care for anybody else. So you see you may just as +well give us your consent!" + +"I'm afraid I've been to blame," said Mrs. Futvoye. "I ought to have +foreseen this at St. Luc. Sylvia is our only child, Mr. Ventimore, and I +would far rather see her happily married than making what is called a +'grand match.' Still, this really does seem _rather_ hopeless. I am +quite sure her father would never approve of it. Indeed, it must not be +mentioned to him--he would only be irritated." + +"So long as you are not against us," said Horace, "you won't forbid me +to see her?" + +"I believe I ought to," said Mrs. Futvoye; "but I don't object to your +coming here occasionally, as an ordinary visitor. Only understand +this--until you can prove to my husband's satisfaction that you are able +to support Sylvia in the manner she has been accustomed to, there must +be no formal engagement. I think I am entitled to ask _that_ of you." + +She was so clearly within her rights, and so much more indulgent than +Horace had expected--for he had always considered her an unsentimental +and rather worldly woman--that he accepted her conditions almost +gratefully. After all, it was enough for him that Sylvia returned his +love, and that he should be allowed to see her from time to time. + +"It's rather a pity," said Sylvia, meditatively, a little later, when +her mother had gone back to her letter-writing, and she and Horace were +discussing the future; "it's rather a pity that you didn't manage to get +_something_ at that sale. It might have helped you with papa." + +"Well, I did get something on my own account," he said, "though I don't +know whether it is likely to do me any good with your father." And he +told her how he had come to acquire the brass bottle. + +"And you actually gave a guinea for it?" said Sylvia, "when you could +probably get exactly the same thing, only better, at Liberty's for about +seven-and-sixpence! Nothing of that sort has any charms for papa, unless +it's dirty and dingy and centuries old." + +"This looks all that. I only bought it because, though it wasn't down on +the catalogue, I had a fancy that it might interest the Professor." + +"Oh!" cried Sylvia, clasping her pretty hands, "if only it does, Horace! +If it turns out to be tremendously rare and valuable! I do believe dad +would be so delighted that he'd consent to anything. Ah, that's his step +outside ... he's letting himself in. Now mind you don't forget to tell +him about that bottle." + +The Professor did not seem in the sweetest of humours as he entered the +drawing-room. "Sorry I was obliged to be from home, and there was nobody +but my wife and daughter here to entertain you. But I am glad you +stayed--yes, I'm rather glad you stayed." + +"So am I, sir," said Horace, and proceeded to give his account of the +sale, which did not serve to improve the Professor's temper. He thrust +out his under lip at certain items in the catalogue. "I wish I'd gone +myself," he said; "that bowl, a really fine example of sixteenth-century +Persian work, going for only five guineas! I'd willingly have given ten +for it. There, there, I thought I could have depended on you to use your +judgment better than that!" + +"If you remember, sir, you strictly limited me to the sums you marked." + +"Nothing of the sort," said the Professor, testily; "my marginal notes +were merely intended as indications, no more. You might have known that +if you had secured one of the things at any price I should have +approved." + +Horace had no grounds for knowing anything of the kind, and much reason +for believing the contrary, but he saw no use in arguing the matter +further, and merely said he was sorry to have misunderstood. + +"No doubt the fault was mine," said the Professor, in a tone that +implied the opposite. "Still, making every allowance for inexperience in +these matters, I should have thought it impossible for any one to spend +a whole day bidding at a place like Hammond's without even securing a +single article." + +"But, dad," put in Sylvia, "Mr. Ventimore did get _one_ thing--on his +own account. It's a brass bottle, not down in the catalogue, but he +thinks it may be worth something perhaps. And he'd very much like to +have your opinion." + +"Tchah!" said the Professor. "Some modern bazaar work, most probably. +He'd better have kept his money. What was this bottle of yours like, +now, eh?" + +Horace described it. + +"H'm. Seems to be what the Arabs call a 'kum-kum,' probably used as a +sprinkler, or to hold rose-water. Hundreds of 'em about," commented the +Professor, crustily. + +"It had a lid, riveted or soldered on," said Horace; "the general shape +was something like this ..." And he made a rapid sketch from memory, +which the Professor took reluctantly, and then adjusted his glasses with +some increase of interest. + +"Ha--the form is antique, certainly. And the top hermetically fastened, +eh? That looks as if it might contain something." + +"You don't think it has a genie inside, like the sealed jar the +fisherman found in the 'Arabian Nights'?" cried Sylvia. "What fun if it +had!" + +"By genie, I presume you mean a _Jinnee_, which is the more correct and +scholarly term," said the Professor. "Female, _Jinneeyeh_, and plural +_Jinn_. No, I do _not_ contemplate that as a probable contingency. But +it is not quite impossible that a vessel closed as Mr. Ventimore +describes may have been designed as a receptacle for papyri or other +records of archaeological interest, which may be still in preservation. I +should recommend you, sir, to use the greatest precaution in removing +the lid--don't expose the documents, if any, too suddenly to the outer +air, and it would be better if you did not handle them yourself. I shall +be rather curious to hear whether it really does contain anything, and +if so, what." + +"I will open it as carefully as possible," said Horace, "and whatever it +may contain, you may rely upon my letting you know at once." + +He left shortly afterwards, encouraged by the radiant trust in Sylvia's +eyes, and thrilled by the secret pressure of her hand at parting. + +He had been amply repaid for all the hours he had spent in the close +sale-room. His luck had turned at last: he was going to succeed; he felt +it in the air, as if he were already fanned by Fortune's pinions. + +Still thinking of Sylvia, he let himself into the semi-detached, +old-fashioned house on the north side of Vincent Square, where he had +lodged for some years. It was nearly twelve o'clock, and his landlady, +Mrs. Rapkin, and her husband had already gone to bed. + +Ventimore went up to his sitting-room, a comfortable apartment with two +long windows opening on to a trellised verandah and balcony--a room +which, as he had furnished and decorated it himself to suit his own +tastes, had none of the depressing ugliness of typical lodgings. + +It was quite dark, for the season was too mild for a fire, and he had to +grope for the matches before he could light his lamp. After he had done +so and turned up the wicks, the first object he saw was the bulbous, +long-necked jar which he had bought that afternoon, and which now stood +on the stained boards near the mantelpiece. It had been delivered with +unusual promptitude! + +Somehow he felt a sort of repulsion at the sight of it. "It's a +beastlier-looking object than I thought," he said to himself +disgustedly. "A chimney-pot would be about as decorative and appropriate +in my room. What a thundering ass I was to waste a guinea on it! I +wonder if there really is anything inside it. It is so infernally ugly +that it _ought_ to be useful. The Professor seemed to fancy it might +hold documents, and he ought to know. Anyway, I'll find out before I +turn in." + +He grasped it by its long, thick neck, and tried to twist the cap off; +but it remained firm, which was not surprising, seeing that it was +thickly coated with a lava-like crust. + +"I must get some of that off first, and then try again," he decided; and +after foraging downstairs, he returned with a hammer and chisel, with +which he chipped away the crust till the line of the cap was revealed, +and an uncouth metal knob that seemed to be a catch. + +This he tapped sharply for some time, and again attempted to wrench off +the lid. Then he gripped the vessel between his knees and put forth all +his strength, while the bottle seemed to rock and heave under him in +sympathy. The cap was beginning to give way, very slightly; one last +wrench--and it came off in his hand with such suddenness that he was +flung violently backwards, and hit the back of his head smartly against +an angle of the wainscot. + +He had a vague impression of the bottle lying on its side, with dense +volumes of hissing, black smoke pouring out of its mouth and towering up +in a gigantic column to the ceiling; he was conscious, too, of a pungent +and peculiarly overpowering perfume. "I've got hold of some sort of +infernal machine," he thought, "and I shall be all over the square in +less than a second!" And, just as he arrived at this cheerful +conclusion, he lost consciousness altogether. + +He could not have been unconscious for more than a few seconds, for when +he opened his eyes the room was still thick with smoke, through which he +dimly discerned the figure of a stranger, who seemed of abnormal and +almost colossal height. But this must have been an optical illusion +caused by the magnifying effects of the smoke; for, as it cleared, his +visitor proved to be of no more than ordinary stature. He was elderly, +and, indeed, venerable of appearance, and wore an Eastern robe and +head-dress of a dark-green hue. He stood there with uplifted hands, +uttering something in a loud tone and a language unknown to Horace. + +Ventimore, being still somewhat dazed, felt no surprise at seeing him. +Mrs. Rapkin must have let her second floor at last--to some Oriental. He +would have preferred an Englishman as a fellow-lodger, but this +foreigner must have noticed the smoke and rushed in to offer assistance, +which was both neighbourly and plucky of him. + +"Awfully good of you to come in, sir," he said, as he scrambled to his +feet. "I don't know what's happened exactly, but there's no harm done. +I'm only a trifle shaken, that's all. By the way, I suppose you can +speak English?" + +"Assuredly I can speak so as to be understood by all whom I address," +answered the stranger. + +"Dost thou not understand my speech?" + +"Perfectly, now," said Horace. "But you made a remark just now which I +didn't follow--would you mind repeating it?" + +"I said: 'Repentance, O Prophet of God! I will not return to the like +conduct ever.'" + +"Ah," said Horace. "I dare say you _were_ rather startled. So was I when +I opened that bottle." + +"Tell me--was it indeed thy hand that removed the seal, O young man of +kindness and good works?" + +"I certainly did open it," said Ventimore, "though I don't know where +the kindness comes in--for I've no notion what was inside the thing." + +"I was inside it," said the stranger, calmly. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +AT LARGE + + +"So _you_ were inside that bottle, were you?" said Horace, blandly. "How +singular!" He began to realise that he had to deal with an Oriental +lunatic, and must humour him to some extent. Fortunately he did not seem +at all dangerous, though undeniably eccentric-looking. His hair fell in +disorderly profusion from under his high turban about his cheeks, which +were of a uniform pale rhubarb tint; his grey beard streamed out in +three thin strands, and his long, narrow eyes, opal in hue, and set +rather wide apart and at a slight angle, had a curious expression, part +slyness and part childlike simplicity. + +"Dost thou doubt that I speak truth? I tell thee that I have been +confined in that accursed vessel for countless centuries--how long, I +know not, for it is beyond calculation." + +"I should hardly have thought from your appearance, sir, that you had +been so many years in bottle as all that," said Horace, politely, "but +it's certainly time you had a change. May I, if it isn't indiscreet, ask +how you came into such a very uncomfortable position? But probably you +have forgotten by this time." + +"Forgotten!" said the other, with a sombre red glow in his opal eyes. +"Wisely was it written: 'Let him that desireth oblivion confer +benefits--but the memory of an injury endureth for ever.' _I_ forget +neither benefits nor injuries." + +"An old gentleman with a grievance," thought Ventimore. "And mad into +the bargain. Nice person to have staying in the same house with one!" + +"Know, O best of mankind," continued the stranger, "that he who now +addresses thee is Fakrash-el-Aamash, one of the Green Jinn. And I dwelt +in the Palace of the Mountain of the Clouds above the City of Babel in +the Garden of Irem, which thou doubtless knowest by repute?" + +"I fancy I _have_ heard of it," said Horace, as if it were an address in +the Court Directory. "Delightful neighbourhood." + +"I had a kinswoman, Bedeea-el-Jemal, who possessed incomparable beauty +and manifold accomplishments. And seeing that, though a Jinneeyeh, she +was of the believing Jinn, I despatched messengers to Suleyman the +Great, the son of Daood, offering him her hand in marriage. But a +certain Jarjarees, the son of Rejmoos, the son of Iblees--may he be for +ever accursed!--looked with favour upon the maiden, and, going secretly +unto Suleyman, persuaded him that I was preparing a crafty snare for the +King's undoing." + +"And, of course, _you_ never thought of such a thing?" said Ventimore. + +"By a venomous tongue the fairest motives may be rendered foul," was the +somewhat evasive reply. "Thus it came to pass that Suleyman--on whom be +peace!--listened unto the voice of Jarjarees and refused to receive the +maiden. Moreover, he commanded that I should be seized and imprisoned in +a bottle of brass and cast into the Sea of El-Karkar, there to abide the +Day of Doom." + +"Too bad--really too bad!" murmured Horace, in a tone that he could only +hope was sufficiently sympathetic. + +"But now, by thy means, O thou of noble ancestors and gentle +disposition, my deliverance hath been accomplished; and if I were to +serve thee for a thousand years, regarding nothing else, even thus could +I not requite thee, and my so doing would be a small thing according to +thy desserts!" + +"Pray don't mention it," said Horace; "only too pleased if I've been of +any use to you." + +"In the sky it is written upon the pages of the air: 'He who doth kind +actions shall experience the like.' Am I not an Efreet of the Jinn? +Demand, therefore, and thou shalt receive." + +"Poor old chap!" thought Horace, "he's very cracked indeed. He'll be +wanting to give me a present of some sort soon--and of course I can't +have that.... My dear Mr. Fakrash," he said aloud, "I've done +nothing--nothing at all--and if I had, I couldn't possibly accept any +reward for it." + +"What are thy names, and what calling dost thou follow?" + +"I ought to have introduced myself before--let me give you my card;" and +Ventimore gave him one, which the other took and placed in his girdle. +"That's my business address. I'm an architect, if you know what that +is--a man who builds houses and churches--mosques, you know--in fact, +anything, when he can get it to build." + +"A useful calling indeed--and one to be rewarded with fine gold." + +"In my case," Horace confessed, "the reward has been too fine to be +perceived. In other words, I've never _been_ rewarded, because I've +never yet had the luck to get a client." + +"And what is this client of whom thou speakest?" + +"Oh, well, some well-to-do merchant who wants a house built for him and +doesn't care how much he spends on it. There must be lots of them +about--but they never seem to come in _my_ direction." + +"Grant me a period of delay, and, if it be possible, I will procure thee +such a client." + +Horace could not help thinking that any recommendation from such a +quarter would hardly carry much weight; but, as the poor old man +evidently imagined himself under an obligation, which he was anxious to +discharge, it would have been unkind to throw cold water on his good +intentions. + +"My dear sir," he said lightly, "if you _should_ come across that +particular type of client, and can contrive to impress him with the +belief that I'm just the architect he's looking out for--which, between +ourselves, I am, though nobody's discovered it yet--if you can get him +to come to me, you will do me the very greatest service I could ever +hope for. But don't give yourself any trouble over it." + +"It will be one of the easiest things that can be," said his visitor, +"that is" (and here a shade of rather pathetic doubt crossed his face) +"provided that anything of my former power yet remains unto me." + +"Well, never mind, sir," said Horace; "if you can't, I shall take the +will for the deed." + +"First of all, it will be prudent to learn where Suleyman is, that I may +humble myself before him and make my peace." + +"Yes," said Horace, gently, "I would. I should make a point of that, +sir. Not _now_, you know. He might be in bed. To-morrow morning." + +"This is a strange place that I am in, and I know not yet in what +direction I should seek him. But till I have found him, and justified +myself in his sight, and had my revenge upon Jarjarees, mine enemy, I +shall know no rest." + +"Well, but go to bed now, like a sensible old chap," said Horace, +soothingly, anxious to prevent this poor demented Asiatic from falling +into the hands of the police. "Plenty of time to go and call on Suleyman +to-morrow." + +"I will search for him, even unto the uttermost ends of the earth!" + +"That's right--you're sure to find him in one of them. Only, don't you +see, it's no use starting to-night--the last trains have gone long ago." +As he spoke, the night wind bore across the square the sound of Big Ben +striking the quarters in Westminster Clock Tower, and then, after a +pause, the solemn boom that announced the first of the small hours. +"To-morrow," thought Ventimore, "I'll speak to Mrs. Rapkin, and get her +to send for a doctor and have him put under proper care--the poor old +boy really isn't fit to go about alone!" + +"I will start now--at once," insisted the stranger "for there is no time +to be lost." + +"Oh, come!" said Horace, "after so many thousand years, a few hours more +or less won't make any serious difference. And you _can't_ go out +now--they've shut up the house. Do let me take you upstairs to your +room, sir." + +"Not so, for I must leave thee for a season, O young man of kind +conduct. But may thy days be fortunate, and the gate never cease to be +repaired, and the nose of him that envieth thee be rubbed in the dust, +for love for thee hath entered into my heart, and if it be permitted +unto me, I will cover thee with the veils of my protection!" + +As he finished this harangue the speaker seemed, to Ventimore's +speechless amazement, to slip through the wall behind him. At all +events, he had left the room somehow--and Horace found himself alone. + +He rubbed the back of his head, which began to be painful. "He can't +really have vanished through the wall," he said to himself. "That's too +absurd. The fact is, I'm over-excited this evening--and no wonder, after +all that's happened. The best thing I can do is to go to bed at once." + +Which he accordingly proceeded to do. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +CARTE BLANCHE + + +When Ventimore woke next morning his headache had gone, and with it the +recollection of everything but the wondrous and delightful fact that +Sylvia loved him and had promised to be his some day. Her mother, too, +was on his side; why should he despair of anything after that? There was +the Professor, to be sure--but even he might be brought to consent to an +engagement, especially if it turned out that the brass bottle ... and +here Horace began to recall an extraordinary dream in connection with +that extremely speculative purchase of his. He had dreamed that he had +forced the bottle open, and that it proved to contain, not manuscripts, +but an elderly Jinnee who alleged that he had been imprisoned there by +the order of King Solomon! + +What, he wondered, could have put so grotesque a fancy into his head? +and then he smiled as he traced it to Sylvia's playful suggestion that +the bottle might contain a "genie," as did the famous jar in the +"Arabian Nights," and to her father's pedantic correction of the word to +"Jinnee." Upon that slight foundation his sleeping brain had built up +all that elaborate fabric--a scene so vivid and a story so +circumstantial and plausible that, in spite of its extravagance, he +could hardly even now persuade himself that it was entirely imaginary. +The psychology of dreams is a subject which has a fascinating mystery, +even for the least serious student. + +As he entered the sitting-room, where his breakfast awaited him, he +looked round, half expecting to find the bottle lying with its lid off +in the corner, as he had last seen it in his dream. + +Of course, it was not there, and he felt an odd relief. The +auction-room people had not delivered it yet, and so much the better, +for he had still to ascertain if it had anything inside it; and who knew +that it might not contain something more to his advantage than a +maundering old Jinnee with a grievance several thousands of years old? + +Breakfast over, he rang for his landlady, who presently appeared. Mrs. +Rapkin was a superior type of her much-abused class. She was +scrupulously clean and neat in her person; her sandy hair was so smooth +and tightly knotted that it gave her head the colour and shape of a +Barcelona nut; she had sharp, beady eyes, nostrils that seemed to smell +battle afar off, a wide, thin mouth that apparently closed with a snap, +and a dry, whity-brown complexion suggestive of bran. + +But if somewhat grim of aspect, she was a good soul and devoted to +Horace, in whom she took almost a maternal interest, while regretting +that he was not what she called "serious-minded enough" to get on in the +world. Rapkin had wooed and married her when they were both in service, +and he still took occasional jobs as an outdoor butler, though Horace +suspected that his more staple form of industry was the consumption of +gin-and-water and remarkably full-flavoured cigars in the basement +parlour. + +"Shall you be dining in this evening, sir?" inquired Mrs. Rapkin. + +"I don't know. Don't get anything in for me; I shall most probably dine +at the club," said Horace; and Mrs. Rapkin, who had a confirmed belief +that all clubs were hotbeds of vice and extravagance, sniffed +disapproval. "By the way," he added, "if a kind of brass pot is sent +here, it's all right. I bought it at a sale yesterday. Be careful how +you handle it--it's rather old." + +"There _was_ a vawse come late last night, sir; I don't know if it's +that, it's old-fashioned enough." + +"Then will you bring it up at once, please? I want to see it." + +Mrs. Rapkin retired, to reappear presently with the brass bottle. "I +thought you'd have noticed it when you come in last night, sir," she +explained, "for I stood it in the corner, and when I see it this morning +it was layin' o' one side and looking that dirty and disrespectable I +took it down to give it a good clean, which it wanted it." + +It certainly looked rather the better for it, and the marks or scratches +on the cap were more distinguishable, but Horace was somewhat +disconcerted to find that part of his dream was true--the bottle had +been there. + +"I hope I've done nothing wrong," said Mrs. Rapkin, observing his +expression; "I only used a little warm ale to it, which is a capital +thing for brass-work, and gave it a scrub with 'Vitrolia' soap--but it +would take more than that to get all the muck off of it." + +"It is all right, so long as you didn't try to get the top off," said +Horace. + +"Why, the top _was_ off it, sir. I thought you'd done it with the 'ammer +and chisel when you got 'ome," said his landlady, staring. "I found them +'ere on the carpet." + +Horace started. Then _that_ part was true, too! "Oh, ah," he said, "I +believe I did. I'd forgotten. That reminds me. Haven't you let the room +above to--to an Oriental gentleman--a native, you know--wears a green +turban?" + +"That I most certainly 'ave _not_, Mr. Ventimore," said Mrs. Rapkin, +with emphasis, "nor wouldn't. Not if his turbin was all the colours of +the rainbow--for I don't 'old with such. Why, there was Rapkin's own +sister-in-law let her parlour floor to a Horiental--a Parsee _he_ was, +or _one_ o' them Hafrican tribes--and reason she 'ad to repent of it, +for all his gold spectacles! Whatever made you fancy I should let to a +blackamoor?" + +"Oh, I thought I saw somebody about--er--answering that description, +and I wondered if----" + +"Never in _this_ 'ouse, sir. Mrs. Steggars, next door but one, might let +to such, for all I can say to the contrary, not being what you might +call particular, and her rooms more suitable to savage notions--but I've +enough on _my_ hands, Mr. Ventimore, attending to you--not keeping a +girl to do the waiting, as why should I while I'm well able to do it +better myself?" + +As soon as she relieved him of her presence, he examined the bottle: +there was nothing whatever inside it, which disposed of all the hopes he +had entertained from that quarter. + +It was not difficult to account for the visionary Oriental as an +hallucination probably inspired by the heavy fumes (for he now believed +in the fumes) which had doubtless resulted from the rapid decomposition +of some long-buried spices or similar substances suddenly exposed to the +air. + +If any further explanation were needed, the accidental blow to the back +of his head, together with the latent suggestion from the "Arabian +Nights," would amply provide it. + +So, having settled these points to his entire satisfaction, he went to +his office in Great Cloister Street, which he now had entirely to +himself, and was soon engaged in drafting the specification for Beevor +on which he had been working when so fortunately interrupted the day +before by the Professor. + +The work was more or less mechanical, and could bring him no credit and +little thanks, but Horace had the happy faculty of doing thoroughly +whatever he undertook, and as he sat there by his wide-open window he +soon became entirely oblivious of all but the task before him. + +So much so that, even when the light became obscured for a moment, as if +by some large and opaque body in passing, he did not look up +immediately, and, when he did, was surprised to find the only armchair +occupied by a portly person, who seemed to be trying to recover his +breath. + +"I beg your pardon," said Ventimore; "I never heard you come in." + +His visitor could only wave his head in courteous deprecation, under +which there seemed a suspicion of bewildered embarrassment. He was a +rosy-gilled, spotlessly clean, elderly gentleman, with white whiskers; +his eyes, just then slightly protuberant, were shrewd, but genial; he +had a wide, jolly mouth and a double chin. He was dressed like a man who +is above disguising his prosperity; he wore a large, pear-shaped pearl +in his crimson scarf, and had probably only lately discarded his summer +white hat and white waistcoat. + +"My dear sir," he began, in a rich, throaty voice, as soon as he could +speak; "my dear sir, you must think this is a most unceremonious way +of--ah!--dropping in on you--of invading your privacy." + +"Not at all," said Horace, wondering whether he could possibly intend +him to understand that he had come in by the window. "I'm afraid there +was no one to show you in--my clerk is away just now." + +"No matter, sir, no matter. I found my way up, as you perceive. The +important, I may say the essential, fact is that I _am_ here." + +"Quite so," said Horace, "and may I ask what brought you?" + +"What brought----" The stranger's eyes grew fish-like for the moment. +"Allow me, I--I shall come to that--in good time. I am still a +little--as you can see." He glanced round the room. "You are, I think, +an architect, Mr. ah--Mr. um----?" + +"Ventimore is my name," said Horace, "and I _am_ an architect." + +"Ventimore, to be sure!" he put his hand in his pocket and produced a +card: "Yes, it's all quite correct: I see I have the name here. And an +architect, Mr. Ventimore, so I--I am given to understand, of immense +ability." + +"I'm afraid I can't claim to be that," said Horace, "but I may call +myself fairly competent." + +"Competent? Why, of _course_ you're competent. Do you suppose, sir, that +I, a practical business man, should come to any one who was _not_ +competent?" he said, with exactly the air of a man trying to convince +himself--against his own judgment--that he was acting with the utmost +prudence. + +"Am I to understand that some one has been good enough to recommend me +to you?" inquired Horace. + +"Certainly not, sir, certainly not. _I_ need no recommendation but my +own judgment. I--ah--have a tolerable acquaintance with all that is +going on in the art world, and I have come to the conclusion, +Mr.--eh--ah--Ventimore, I repeat, the deliberate and unassisted +conclusion, that you are the one man living who can do what I want." + +"Delighted to hear it," said Horace, genuinely gratified. "When did you +see any of my designs?" + +"Never mind, sir. I don't decide without very good grounds. It +doesn't take me long to make up my mind, and when my mind is made +up, I act, sir, I act. And, to come to the point, I have a small +commission--unworthy, I am quite aware, of your--ah--distinguished +talent--which I should like to put in your hands." + +"Is _he_ going to ask me to attend a sale for him?" thought Horace. "I'm +hanged if I do." + +"I'm rather busy at present," he said dubiously, "as you may see. I'm +not sure whether----" + +"I'll put the matter in a nutshell, sir--in a nutshell. My name is +Wackerbath, Samuel Wackerbath--tolerably well known, if I may say so, in +City circles." Horace, of course, concealed the fact that his visitor's +name and fame were unfamiliar to him. "I've lately bought a few acres on +the Hampshire border, near the house I'm living in just now; and I've +been thinking--as I was saying to a friend only just now, as we were +crossing Westminster Bridge--I've been thinking of building myself a +little place there, just a humble, unpretentious home, where I could run +down for the weekend and entertain a friend or two in a quiet way, and +perhaps live some part of the year. Hitherto I've rented places as I +wanted 'em--old family seats and ancestral mansions and so forth: very +nice in their way, but I want to feel under a roof of my own. I want to +surround myself with the simple comforts, the--ah--unassuming elegance +of an English country home. And you're the man--I feel more convinced of +it with every word you say--you're the man to do the job in +style--ah--to execute the work as it should be done." + +Here was the long-wished-for client at last! And it was satisfactory to +feel that he had arrived in the most ordinary and commonplace course, +for no one could look at Mr. Samuel Wackerbath and believe for a moment +that he was capable of floating through an upper window; he was not in +the least that kind of person. + +"I shall be happy to do my best," said Horace, with a calmness that +surprised himself. "Could you give me some idea of the amount you are +prepared to spend?" + +"Well, I'm no Croesus--though I won't say I'm a pauper precisely--and, +as I remarked before, I prefer comfort to splendour. I don't think I +should be justified in going beyond--well, say sixty thousand." + +"Sixty thousand!" exclaimed Horace, who had expected about a tenth of +that sum. "Oh, not _more_ than sixty thousand? I see." + +"I mean, on the house itself," explained Mr. Wackerbath; "there will be +outbuildings, lodges, cottages, and so forth, and then some of the rooms +I should want specially decorated. Altogether, before we are finished, +it may work out at about a hundred thousand. I take it that, with such a +margin, you could--ah--run me up something that in a modest way would +take the shine out of--I mean to say eclipse--anything in the adjoining +counties?" + +"I certainly think," said Horace, "that for such a sum as that I can +undertake that you shall have a home which will satisfy you." And he +proceeded to put the usual questions as to site, soil, available +building materials, the accommodation that would be required, and so on. + +"You're young, sir," said Mr. Wackerbath, at the end of the interview, +"but I perceive you are up to all the tricks of the--I _should_ say, +versed in the _minutiae_ of your profession. You would like to run down +and look at the ground, eh? Well, that's only reasonable; and my wife +and daughters will want to have _their_ say in the matter--no getting on +without pleasing the ladies, hey? Now, let me see. To-morrow's Sunday. +Why not come down by the 8.45 a.m. to Lipsfield? I'll have a trap, or a +brougham and pair, or something, waiting for you--take you over the +ground myself, bring you back to lunch with us at Oriel Court, and talk +the whole thing thoroughly over. Then we'll send you up to town in the +evening, and you can start work the first thing on Monday. That suit +you? Very well, then. We'll expect you to-morrow." + +With this Mr. Wackerbath departed, leaving Horace, as may be imagined, +absolutely overwhelmed by the suddenness and completeness of his good +fortune. He was no longer one of the unemployed: he had work to do, and, +better still, work that would interest him, give him all the scope and +opportunity he could wish for. With a client who seemed tractable, and +to whom money was clearly no object, he might carry out some of his most +ambitious ideas. + +Moreover, he would now be in a position to speak to Sylvia's father +without fear of a repulse. His commission on L60,000 would be L3,000, +and that on the decorations and other work at least as much +again--probably more. In a year he could marry without imprudence; in +two or three years he might be making a handsome income, for he felt +confident that, with such a start, he would soon have as much work as he +could undertake. + +He was ashamed of himself for ever having lost heart. What were the last +few years of weary waiting but probation and preparation for this +splendid chance, which had come just when he really needed it, and in +the most simple and natural manner? + +He loyally completed the work he had promised to do for Beevor, who +would have to dispense with his assistance in future, and then he felt +too excited and restless to stay in the office, and, after lunching at +his club as usual, he promised himself the pleasure of going to +Cottesmore Gardens and telling Sylvia his good news. + +It was still early, and he walked the whole way, as some vent for his +high spirits, enjoying everything with a new zest--the dappled grey and +salmon sky before him, the amber, russet, and yellow of the scanty +foliage in Kensington Gardens, the pungent scent of fallen chestnuts and +acorns and burning leaves, the blue-grey mist stealing between the +distant tree-trunks, and then the cheery bustle and brilliancy of the +High Street. Finally came the joy of finding Sylvia all alone, and +witnessing her frank delight at what he had come to tell her, of feeling +her hands on his shoulders, and holding her in his arms, as their lips +met for the first time. If on that Saturday afternoon there was a +happier man than Horace Ventimore, he would have done well to dissemble +his felicity, for fear of incurring the jealousy of the high gods. + +When Mrs. Futvoye returned, as she did only too soon, to find her +daughter and Horace seated on the same sofa, she did not pretend to be +gratified. "This is taking a most unfair advantage of what I was weak +enough to say last night, Mr. Ventimore," she began. "I thought I could +have trusted you!" + +"I shouldn't have come so soon," he said, "if my position were what it +was only yesterday. But it's changed since then, and I venture to hope +that even the Professor won't object now to our being regularly +engaged." And he told her of the sudden alteration in his prospects. + +"Well," said Mrs. Futvoye, "you had better speak to my husband about +it." + +The Professor came in shortly afterwards, and Horace immediately +requested a few minutes' conversation with him in the study, which was +readily granted. + +The study to which the Professor led the way was built out at the back +of the house, and crowded with Oriental curios of every age and kind; +the furniture had been made by Cairene cabinet-makers, and along the +cornices of the book-cases were texts from the Koran, while every chair +bore the Arabic for "Welcome" in a gilded firework on its leather back; +the lamp was a perforated mosque lantern with long pendent glass tubes +like hyacinth glasses; a mummy-case smiled from a corner with laboured +_bonhomie_. + +"Well," began the Professor, as soon as they were seated, "so I was not +mistaken--there was something in the brass bottle after all, then? Let's +have a look at it, whatever it is." + +For the moment Horace had almost forgotten the bottle. "Oh!" he said, +"I--I got it open; but there was nothing in it." + +"Just as I anticipated, sir," said the Professor. "I told you there +couldn't be anything in a bottle of that description; it was simply +throwing money away to buy it." + +"I dare say it was, but I wished to speak to you on a much more +important matter;" and Horace briefly explained his object. + +"Dear me," said the Professor, rubbing up his hair irritably, "dear me! +I'd no idea of this--no idea at all. I was under the impression that you +volunteered to act as escort to my wife and daughter at St. Luc purely +out of good nature to relieve me from what--to a man of my habits in +that extreme heat--would have been an arduous and distasteful duty." + +"I was not wholly unselfish, I admit," said Horace. "I fell in love with +your daughter, sir, the first day I met her--only I felt I had no right, +as a poor man with no prospects, to speak to her or you at that time." + +"A very creditable feeling--but I've yet to learn why you should have +overcome it." + +So, for the third time, Ventimore told the story of the sudden turn in +his fortunes. + +"I know this Mr. Samuel Wackerbath by name," said the Professor; "one of +the chief partners in the firm of Akers and Coverdale, the great estate +agents--a most influential man, if you can only succeed in satisfying +him." + +"Oh, I don't feel any misgivings about that, sir," said Horace. "I mean +to build him a house that will be beyond his wildest expectations, and +you see that in a year I shall have earned several thousands, and I need +not say that I will make any settlement you think proper when I +marry----" + +"When you are in possession of those thousands," remarked the Professor, +dryly, "it will be time enough to talk of marrying and making +settlements. Meanwhile, if you and Sylvia choose to consider yourselves +engaged, I won't object--only I must insist on having your promise that +you won't persuade her to marry you without her mother's and my +consent." + +Ventimore gave this undertaking willingly enough, and they returned to +the drawing-room. Mrs. Futvoye could hardly avoid asking Horace, in his +new character of _fiance_, to stay and dine, which it need not be said +he was only too delighted to do. + +"There is one thing, my dear--er--Horace," said the Professor, solemnly, +after dinner, when the neat parlourmaid had left them at dessert, "one +thing on which I think it my duty to caution you. If you are to justify +the confidence we have shown in sanctioning your engagement to Sylvia, +you must curb this propensity of yours to needless extravagance." + +"Papa!" cried Sylvia. "What _could_ have made you think Horace +extravagant?" + +"Really," said Horace, "I shouldn't have called myself particularly so." + +"Nobody ever _does_ call himself particularly extravagant," retorted the +Professor; "but I observed at St. Luc that you habitually gave fifty +centimes as a _pourboire_ when twopence, or even a penny, would have +been handsome. And no one with any regard for the value of money would +have given a guinea for a worthless brass vessel on the bare chance that +it might contain manuscripts, which (as any one could have foreseen) it +did not." + +"But it's not a bad sort of bottle, sir," pleaded Horace. "If you +remember, you said yourself the shape was unusual. Why shouldn't it be +worth all the money, and more?" + +"To a collector, perhaps," said the Professor, with his wonted +amiability, "which you are not. No, I can only call it a senseless and +reprehensible waste of money." + +"Well, the truth is," said Horace, "I bought it with some idea that it +might interest _you_." + +"Then you were mistaken, sir. It does _not_ interest me. Why should I be +interested in a metal jar which, for anything that appears to the +contrary, may have been cast the other day at Birmingham?" + +"But there _is_ something," said Horace; "a seal or inscription of some +sort engraved on the cap. Didn't I mention it?" + +"You said nothing about an inscription before," replied the Professor, +with rather more interest. "What is the character--Arabic? Persian? +Kufic?" + +"I really couldn't say--it's almost rubbed out--queer little triangular +marks, something like birds' footprints." + +"That sounds like Cuneiform," said the Professor, "which would seem to +point to a Phoenician origin. And, as I am acquainted with no Oriental +brass earlier than the ninth century of our era, I should regard your +description as, _a priori_, distinctly unlikely. However, I should +certainly like to have an opportunity of examining the bottle for myself +some day." + +"Whenever you please, Professor. When can you come?" + +"Why, I'm so much occupied all day that I can't say for certain when I +can get up to your office again." + +"My own days will be fairly full now," said Horace; "and the thing's not +at the office, but in my rooms at Vincent Square. Why shouldn't you all +come and dine quietly there some evening next week, and then you could +examine the inscription comfortably afterwards, you know, Professor, and +find out what it really is? Do say you will." He was eager to have the +privilege of entertaining Sylvia in his own rooms for the first time. + +"No, no," said the Professor; "I see no reason why you should be +troubled with the entire family. I may drop in alone some evening and +take the luck of the pot, sir." + +"Thank you, papa," put in Sylvia; "but _I_ should like to come too, +please, and hear what you think of Horace's bottle. And I'm dying to see +his rooms. I believe they're fearfully luxurious." + +"I trust," observed her father, "that they are far indeed from answering +that description. If they did, I should consider it a most +unsatisfactory indication of Horace's character." + +"There's nothing magnificent about them, I assure you," said Horace. +"Though it's true I've had them done up, and all that sort of thing, at +my own expense--but quite simply. I couldn't afford to spend much on +them. But do come and see them. I must have a little dinner, to +celebrate my good fortune--it will be so jolly if you'll all three +come." + +"If we do come," stipulated the Professor, "it must be on the distinct +understanding that you don't provide an elaborate banquet. Plain, +simple, wholesome food, well cooked, such as we have had this evening, +is all that is necessary. More would be ostentatious." + +"My _dear_ dad!" protested Sylvia, in distress at this somewhat +dictatorial speech. "Surely you can leave all that to Horace!" + +"Horace, my dear, understands that, in speaking as I did, I was simply +treating him as a potential member of my family." Here Sylvia made a +private little grimace. "No young man who contemplates marrying should +allow himself to launch into extravagance on the strength of prospects +which, for all he can tell," said the Professor, genially, "may prove +fallacious. On the contrary, if his affection is sincere, he will incur +as little expense as possible, put by every penny he can save, rather +than subject the girl he professes to love to the ordeal of a long +engagement. In other words, the truest lover is the best economist." + +"I quite understand, sir," said Horace, good-temperedly; "it would be +foolish of me to attempt any ambitious form of entertainment--especially +as my landlady, though an excellent plain cook, is not exactly a _cordon +bleu_. So you can come to my modest board without misgivings." + +Before he left, a provisional date for the dinner was fixed for an +evening towards the end of the next week, and Horace walked home, +treading on air rather than hard paving-stones, and "striking the stars +with his uplifted head." + +The next day he went down to Lipsfield and made the acquaintance of the +whole Wackerbath family, who were all enthusiastic about the proposed +country house. The site was everything that the most exacting architect +could desire, and he came back to town the same evening, having spent a +pleasant day and learnt enough of his client's requirements, and--what +was even more important--those of his client's wife and daughters, to +enable him to begin work upon the sketch-plans the next morning. + +He had not been long in his rooms at Vincent Square, and was still +agreeably engaged in recalling the docility and ready appreciation with +which the Wackerbaths had received his suggestions and rough sketches, +their compliments and absolute confidence in his skill, when he had a +shock which was as disagreeable as it was certainly unexpected. + +For the wall before him parted like a film, and through it stepped, +smiling benignantly, the green-robed figure of Fakrash-el-Aamash, the +Jinnee. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +EMBARRAS DE RICHESSES + + +Ventimore had so thoroughly convinced himself that the released Jinnee +was purely a creature of his own imagination, that he rubbed his eyes +with a start, hoping that they had deceived him. + +"Stroke thy head, O merciful and meritorious one," said his visitor, +"and recover thy faculties to receive good tidings. For it is indeed +I--Fakrash-el-Aamash--whom thou beholdest." + +"I--I'm delighted to see you," said Horace, as cordially as he could. +"Is there anything I can do for you?" + +"Nay, for hast thou not done me the greatest of all services by setting +me free? To escape out of a bottle is pleasant. And to thee I owe my +deliverance." + +It was all true, then: he had really let an imprisoned Genius or Jinnee, +or whatever it was, out of that bottle! He knew he could not be dreaming +now--he only wished he were. However, since it was done, his best course +seemed to be to put a good face on it, and persuade this uncanny being +somehow to go away and leave him in peace for the future. + +"Oh, that's all right, my dear sir," he said, "don't think any more +about it. I--I rather understood you to say that you were starting on a +journey in search of Solomon?" + +"I have been, and returned. For I visited sundry cities in his +dominions, hoping that by chance I might hear news of him, but I +refrained from asking directly lest thereby I should engender suspicion, +and so Suleyman should learn of my escape before I could obtain an +audience of him and implore justice." + +"Oh, I shouldn't think that was likely," said Horace. "If I were you, I +should go straight back and go on travelling till I _did_ find +Suleyman." + +"Well was it said: 'Pass not any door without knocking, lest haply that +which thou seekest should be behind it.'" + +"Exactly," said Horace. "Do each city thoroughly, house by house, and +don't neglect the smallest clue. 'If at first you don't succeed, try, +try, try, again!' as one of our own poets teaches." + +"'Try, try, try again,'" echoed the Jinnee, with an admiration that was +almost fatuous. "Divinely gifted truly was he who composed such a +verse!" + +"He has a great reputation as a sage," said Horace, "and the maxim is +considered one of his happiest efforts. Don't you think that, as the +East is rather thickly populated, the less time you lose in following +the poet's recommendation the better?" + +"It may be as thou sayest. But know this, O my son, that wheresoever I +may wander, I shall never cease to study how I may most fitly reward +thee for thy kindness towards me. For nobly it was said: 'If I be +possessed of wealth and be not liberal, may my head never be extended!'" + +"My good sir," said Horace, "do please understand that if you were to +offer me any reward for--for a very ordinary act of courtesy, I should +be obliged to decline it." + +"But didst thou not say that thou wast sorely in need of a client?" + +"That was so at the time," said Horace; "but since I last had the +pleasure of seeing you, I have met with one who is all I could possibly +wish for." + +"I am indeed rejoiced to hear it," returned the Jinnee, "for thou +showest me that I have succeeded in performing the first service which +thou hast demanded of me." + +Horace staggered under this severe blow to his pride; for the moment he +could only gasp: "You--_you_ sent him to me?" + +"I, and no other," said the Jinnee, beaming with satisfaction; "for +while, unseen of men, I was circling in air, resolved to attend to thy +affair before beginning my search for Suleyman (on whom be peace!), it +chanced that I overheard a human being of prosperous appearance say +aloud upon a bridge that he desired to erect for himself a palace if he +could but find an architect. So, perceiving thee afar off seated at an +open casement, I immediately transported him to the place and delivered +him into thy hands." + +"But he knew my name--he had my card in his pocket," said Horace. + +"I furnished him with the paper containing thy names and abode, lest he +should be ignorant of them." + +"Well, look here, Mr. Fakrash," said the unfortunate Horace, "I know you +meant well--but _never_ do a thing like that again! If my +brother-architects came to know of it I should be accused of most +unprofessional behaviour. I'd no idea you would take that way of +introducing a client to me, or I should have stopped it at once!" + +"It was an error," said Fakrash. "No matter. I will undo this affair, +and devise some other and better means of serving thee." + +"No, no," he said, "for Heaven's sake, leave things alone--you'll only +make them worse. Forgive me, my dear Mr. Fakrash, I'm afraid I must seem +most ungrateful; but--but I was so taken by surprise. And really, I am +extremely obliged to you. For, though the means you took were----were a +little irregular, you have done me a very great service." + +"It is naught," said the Jinnee, "compared to those I hope to render so +great a benefactor." + +"But, indeed, you mustn't think of trying to do any more for me," urged +Horace, who felt the absolute necessity of expelling any scheme of +further benevolence from the Jinnee's head once and for all. "You have +done enough. Why, thanks to you, I am engaged to build a palace that +will keep me hard at work and happy for ever so long." + +"Are human beings, then, so enamoured of hard labour?" asked Fakrash, in +wonder. "It is not thus with the Jinn." + +"I love my work for its own sake," said Horace, "and then, when I have +finished it, I shall have earned a very fair amount of money--which is +particularly important to me just now." + +"And why, my son, art thou so desirous of obtaining riches?" + +"Because," said Horace, "unless a man is tolerably well off in these +days he cannot hope to marry." + +Fakrash smiled with indulgent compassion. "How excellent is the saying +of one of old: 'He that adventureth upon matrimony is like unto one who +thrusteth his hand into a sack containing many thousands of serpents and +one eel. Yet, if Fate so decree, he _may_ draw forth the eel.' And thou +art comely, and of an age when it is natural to desire the love of a +maiden. Therefore be of good heart and a cheerful eye, and it may be +that, when I am more at leisure, I shall find thee a helpmate who shall +rejoice thy soul." + +"Please don't trouble to find me anything of the sort!" said Horace, +hastily, with a mental vision of some helpless and scandalised stranger +being shot into his dwelling like coals. "I assure you I would much +rather win a wife for myself in the ordinary way--as, thanks to your +kindness, I have every hope of doing before long." + +"Is there already some damsel for whom thy heart pineth? If so, fear not +to tell me her names and dwelling place, and I will assuredly obtain her +for thee." + +But Ventimore had seen enough of the Jinnee's Oriental methods to doubt +his tact and discretion where Sylvia was concerned. "No, no; of course +not. I spoke generally," he said. "It's exceedingly kind of you--but I +_do_ wish I could make you understand that I am overpaid as it is. You +have put me in the way to make a name and fortune for myself. If I fail, +it will be my own fault. And, at all events, I want nothing more from +you. If you mean to find Suleyman (on whom be peace!) you must go and +live in the East altogether--for he certainly isn't over here; you must +give up your whole time to it, keep as quiet as possible, and don't be +discouraged by any reports you may hear. Above all, never trouble your +head about me or my affairs again!" + +"O thou of wisdom and eloquence," said Fakrash, "this is most excellent +advice. I will go, then; but may I drink the cup of perdition if I +become unmindful of thy benevolence!" + +And, raising his joined hands above his head as he spoke, he sank, feet +foremost, through the carpet and was gone. + +"Thank Heaven," thought Ventimore, "he's taken the hint at last. I don't +think I'm likely to see any more of him. I feel an ungrateful brute for +saying so, but I can't help it. I can _not_ stand being under any +obligation to a Jinnee who's been shut up in a beastly brass bottle ever +since the days of Solomon, who probably had very good reasons for +putting him there." + +Horace next asked himself whether he was bound in honour to disclose the +facts to Mr. Wackerbath, and give him the opportunity of withdrawing +from the agreement if he thought fit. + +On the whole, he saw no necessity for telling him anything; the only +possible result would be to make his client suspect his sanity; and who +would care to employ an insane architect? Then, if he retired from the +undertaking without any explanations, what could he say to Sylvia? What +would Sylvia's father say to _him_? There would certainly be an end to +his engagement. + +After all, he had not been to blame; the Wackerbaths were quite +satisfied. He felt perfectly sure that he could justify their selection +of him; he would wrong nobody by accepting the commission, while he +would only offend them, injure himself irretrievably, and lose all hope +of gaining Sylvia if he made any attempt to undeceive them. + +And Fakrash was gone, never to return. So, on all these considerations, +Horace decided that silence was his only possible policy, and, though +some moralists may condemn his conduct as disingenuous and wanting in +true moral courage, I venture to doubt whether any reader, however +independent, straightforward, and indifferent to notoriety and ridicule, +would have behaved otherwise in Ventimore's extremely delicate and +difficult position. + +Some days passed, every working hour of which was spent by Horace in the +rapture of creation. To every man with the soul of an artist in him +there comes at times--only too seldom in most cases--a revelation of +latent power that he had not dared to hope for. And now with Ventimore +years of study and theorising which he had often been tempted to think +wasted began to bear golden fruit. He designed and drew with a rapidity +and originality, a sense of perfect mastery of the various problems to +be dealt with, and a delight in the working out of mass and detail, so +intoxicating that he almost dreaded lest he should be the victim of some +self-delusion. + +His evenings were of course spent with the Futvoyes, in discovering +Sylvia in some new and yet more adorable aspect. Altogether, he was very +much in love, very happy, and very busy--three states not invariably +found in combination. + +And, as he had foreseen, he had effectually got rid of Fakrash, who was +evidently too engrossed in the pursuit of Solomon to think of anything +else. And there seemed no reason why he should abandon his search for a +generation or two, for it would probably take all that time to convince +him that that mighty monarch was no longer on the throne. + +"It would have been too brutal to tell him myself," thought Horace, +"when he was so keen on having his case reheard. And it gives him an +object, poor old buffer, and keeps him from interfering in my affairs, +so it's best for both of us." + +Horace's little dinner-party had been twice postponed, till he had begun +to have a superstitious fear that it would never come off; but at length +the Professor had been induced to give an absolute promise for a certain +evening. + +On the day before, after breakfast, Horace had summoned his landlady to +a consultation on the _menu_. "Nothing elaborate, you know, Mrs. +Rapkin," said Horace, who, though he would have liked to provide a feast +of all procurable delicacies for Sylvia's refection, was obliged to +respect her father's prejudices. "Just a simple dinner, thoroughly well +cooked, and nicely served--as you know so well how to do it." + +"I suppose, sir, you would require Rapkin to wait?" + +As the ex-butler was liable to trances on these occasions during which +he could do nothing but smile and bow with speechless politeness as he +dropped sauce-boats and plates, Horace replied that he thought of having +someone in to avoid troubling Mr. Rapkin; but his wife expressed such +confidence in her husband's proving equal to all emergencies, that +Ventimore waived the point, and left it to her to hire extra help if she +thought fit. + +"Now, what soup can you give us?" he inquired, as Mrs. Rapkin stood at +attention and quite unmollified. + +After protracted mental conflict, she grudgingly suggested gravy +soup--which Horace thought too unenterprising, and rejected in favour of +mock turtle. "Well then, fish?" he continued; "how about fish?" + +Mrs. Rapkin dragged the depths of her culinary resources for several +seconds, and finally brought to the surface what she called "a nice +fried sole." Horace would not hear of it, and urged her to aspire to +salmon; she substituted smelts, which he opposed by a happy inspiration +of turbot and lobster sauce. The sauce, however, presented insuperable +difficulties to her mind, and she offered a compromise in the form of +cod--which he finally accepted as a fish which the Professor could +hardly censure for ostentation. + +Next came the no less difficult questions of _entree_ or no _entree_, of +joint and bird. "What's in season just now?" said Horace; "let me +see"--and glanced out of the window as he spoke, as though in search of +some outside suggestion.... "Camels, by Jove!" he suddenly exclaimed. + +"_Camels_, Mr. Ventimore, sir?" repeated Mrs. Rapkin, in some +bewilderment; and then, remembering that he was given to untimely +flippancy, she gave a tolerant little cough. + +"I'll be shot if they _aren't_ camels!" said Horace. "What do _you_ make +of 'em, Mrs. Rapkin?" + +Out of the faint mist which hung over the farther end of the square +advanced a procession of tall, dust-coloured animals, with long, +delicately poised necks and a mincing gait. Even Mrs. Rapkin could not +succeed in making anything of them except camels. + +"What the deuce does a caravan of camels want in Vincent Square?" said +Horace, with a sudden qualm for which he could not account. + +"Most likely they belong to the Barnum Show, sir," suggested his +landlady. "I did hear they were coming to Olympia again this year." + +"Why, of course," cried Horace, intensely relieved. "It's on their way +from the Docks--at least, it isn't _out_ of their way. Or probably the +main road's up for repairs. That's it--they'll turn off to the left at +the corner. See, they've got Arab drivers with them. Wonderful how the +fellows manage them." + +"It seems to me, sir," said Mrs. Rapkin, "that they're coming _our_ +way--they seem to be stopping outside." + +"Don't talk such infernal---- I beg your pardon, Mrs. Rapkin; but why +on earth should Barnum and Bailey's camels come out of their way to call +on _me_? It's ridiculous, you know!" said Horace, irritably. + +"Ridicklous it _may_ be, sir," she retorted, "but they're all layin' +down on the road opposite our door, as you can see--and them niggers is +making signs to you to come out and speak to 'em." + +It was true enough. One by one the camels, which were apparently of the +purest breed, folded themselves up in a row like campstools at a sign +from their attendants, who were now making profound salaams towards the +window where Ventimore was standing. + +"I suppose I'd better go down and see what they want," he said, with +rather a sickly smile. "They may have lost the way to Olympia.... I only +hope Fakrash isn't at the bottom of this," he thought, as he went +downstairs. "But he'd come himself--at all events, he wouldn't send me a +message on such a lot of camels!" As he appeared on the doorstep, all +the drivers flopped down and rubbed their flat, black noses on the +curbstone. + +"For Heaven's sake get up!" said Horace angrily. "This isn't +Hammersmith. Turn to the left, into the Vauxhall Bridge Road, and ask a +policeman the nearest way to Olympia." + +"Be not angry with thy slaves!" said the head driver, in excellent +English. "We are here by command of Fakrash-el-Aamash, our lord, whom we +are bound to obey. And we have brought thee these as gifts." + +"My compliments to your master," said Horace, between his teeth, "and +tell him that a London architect has no sort of occasion for camels. Say +that I am extremely obliged--but am compelled to decline them." + +"O highly born one," explained the driver, "the camels are not a +gift--but the loads which are upon the camels. Suffer us, therefore, +since we dare not disobey our lord's commands, to carry these trifling +tokens of his good will into thy dwelling and depart in peace." + +Horace had not noticed till then that every camel bore a heavy burden, +which the attendants were now unloading. "Oh, if you _must_!" he said, +not too graciously; "only do look sharp about it--there's a crowd +collecting already, and I don't want to have a constable here." + +He returned to his rooms, where he found Mrs. Rapkin paralysed with +amazement. "It's--it's all right," he said; "I'd forgotten--it's only a +few Oriental things from the place where that brass bottle came from, +you know. They've left them here--on approval." + +"Seems funny their sending their goods 'ome on camels, sir, doesn't it?" +said Mrs. Rapkin. + +"Not at all funny!" said Horace; "they--they're an enterprising +firm--their way of advertising." + +One after another, a train of dusky attendants entered, each of whom +deposited his load on the floor with a guttural grunt and returned +backward, until the sitting-room was blocked with piles of sacks, and +bales, and chests, whereupon the head driver appeared and intimated that +the tale of gifts was complete. + +"I wonder what sort of tip this fellow expects," thought Horace; "a +sovereign seems shabby--but it's all I can run to. I'll try him with +that." + +But the overseer repudiated all idea of a gratuity with stately dignity, +and as Horace saw him to the gate, he found a stolid constable by the +railings. + +"This won't _do_, you know," said the constable; "these 'ere camels must +move on--or I shall 'ave to interfere." + +"It's all right, constable," said Horace, pressing into his hand the +sovereign the head driver had rejected; "they're going to move on now. +They've brought me a few presents from--from a friend of mine in the +East." + +By this time the attendants had mounted the kneeling camels, which rose +with them, and swung off round the square in a long, swaying trot that +soon left the crowd far behind, staring blankly after the caravan as +camel after camel disappeared into the haze. + +"I shouldn't mind knowin' that friend o' yours, sir," said the +constable; "open-hearted sort o' gentleman, I should think?" + +"Very!" said Horace, savagely, and returned to his room, which Mrs. +Rapkin had now left. + +His hands shook, though not with joy, as he untied some of the sacks and +bales and forced open the outlandish-looking chests, the contents of +which almost took away his breath. + +For in the bales were carpets and tissues which he saw at a glance must +be of fabulous antiquity and beyond all price; the sacks held golden +ewers and vessels of strange workmanship and pantomimic proportions; the +chests were full of jewels--ropes of creamy-pink pearls as large as +average onions, strings of uncut rubies and emeralds, the smallest of +which would have been a tight fit in an ordinary collar-box, and +diamonds, roughly facetted and polished, each the size of a coconut, in +whose hearts quivered a liquid and prismatic radiance. + +On the most moderate computation, the total value of these gifts could +hardly be less than several hundred millions; never probably in the +world's history had any treasury contained so rich a store. + +It would have been difficult for anybody, on suddenly finding himself +the possessor of this immense incalculable wealth, to make any comment +quite worthy of the situation, but, surely, none could have been more +inadequate and indeed inappropriate than Horace's--which, heartfelt as +it was, was couched in the simple monosyllable--"Damn!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +"GRATITUDE--A LIVELY SENSE OF FAVOURS TO COME" + + +Most men on suddenly finding themselves in possession of such enormous +wealth would have felt some elation. Ventimore, as we have seen, was +merely exasperated. And, although this attitude of his may strike the +reader as incomprehensible or absolutely wrong-headed, he had more +reason on his side than might appear at a first view. + +It was undoubtedly the fact that, with the money these treasures +represented, he would be in a position to convulse the money markets of +Europe and America, bring society to his feet, make and unmake +kingdoms--dominate, in short, the entire world. + +"But, then," as Horace told himself with a groan, "it wouldn't amuse me +in the least to convulse money markets. Do I want to see the smartest +people in London grovelling for anything they think they're likely to +get out of me? As I should be perfectly well aware that their homage was +not paid to any personal merit of mine, I could hardly consider it +flattering. And why should I make kingdoms? The only thing I understand +and care about is making houses. Then, am I likely to be a better hand +at dominating the world than all the others who have tried the +experiment? I doubt it." + +He called to mind all the millionaires he had ever read or heard of; +they didn't seem to get much fun out of their riches. The majority of +them were martyrs to dyspepsia. They were often weighed down by the +cares and responsibilities of their position; the only people who were +unable to obtain an audience of them at any time were their friends; +they lived in a glare of publicity, and every post brought them +hundreds of begging letters, and a few threats; their children were in +constant danger from kidnappers, and they themselves, after knowing no +rest in life, could not be certain that even their tombs would be +undisturbed. Whether they were extravagant or thrifty, they were equally +maligned, and, whatever the fortune they left behind them, they could be +absolutely certain that, in a couple of generations, it would be +entirely dissipated. + +"And the biggest millionaire living," concluded Horace, "is a pauper +compared with me!" + +But there was another consideration--how was he to realise all this +wealth? He knew enough about precious stones to be aware that a ruby, +for instance, of the true "pigeon's blood" colour and the size of a +melon, as most of these rubies were, would be worth, even when cut, +considerably over a million; but who would buy it? + +"I think I see myself," he reflected grimly, "calling on some diamond +merchant in Hatton Garden with half a dozen assorted jewels in a +Gladstone bag. If he believed they were genuine, he'd probably have a +fit; but most likely he'd think I'd invented some dodge for +manufacturing them, and had been fool enough to overdo the size. Anyhow, +he'd want to know how they came into my possession, and what could I +say? That they were part of a little present made to me by a Jinnee in +grateful acknowledgment of my having relieved him from a brass bottle in +which he'd been shut up for nearly three thousand years? Look at it how +you will, it's _not_ convincing. I fancy I can guess what he'd say. And +what an ass I should look! Then suppose the thing got into the papers?" + +Got into the papers? Why, of course it would get into the papers. As if +it were possible in these days for a young and hitherto unemployed +architect suddenly to surround himself with wondrous carpets, and gold +vessels, and gigantic jewels without attracting the notice of some +enterprising journalist. He would be interviewed; the story of his +curiously acquired riches would go the round of the papers; he would +find himself the object of incredulity, suspicion, ridicule. In +imagination he could already see the headlines on the news-sheets: + + + BOTTLED BILLIONS + + AMAZING ARABESQUES BY AN ARCHITECT + + HE SAYS THE JAR CONTAINED A JINNEE + + SENSATIONAL STORY + + DIVERTING DETAILS + + +And so on, through every phrase of alliterative ingenuity. He ground his +teeth at the mere thought of it. Then Sylvia would come to hear of it, +and what would _she_ think? She would naturally be repelled, as any +nice-minded girl would be, by the idea that her lover was in secret +alliance with a supernatural being. And her father and mother--would +they allow her to marry a man, however rich, whose wealth came from such +a questionable source? No one would believe that he had not made some +unholy bargain before consenting to set this incarcerated spirit +free--he, who had acted in absolute ignorance, who had persistently +declined all reward after realising what he had done! + +No, it was too much. Try as he might to do justice to the Jinnee's +gratitude and generosity, he could not restrain a bitter resentment at +the utter want of consideration shown in overloading him with gifts so +useless and so compromising. No Jinnee--however old, however unfamiliar +with the world as it is now--had any right to be such a fool! + +And at this, above the ramparts of sacks and bales, which occupied all +the available space in the room, appeared Mrs. Rapkin's face. + +"I was going to ask you, sir, before them parcels came," she began, +with a dry cough of disapproval, "what you would like in the way of +ongtray to-morrow night. I thought if I could find a sweetbread at all +reasonable----" + +To Horace--surrounded as he was by incalculable riches--sweetbreads +seemed incongruous just then; the transition of thought was too violent. + +"I can't bother about that now, Mrs. Rapkin," he said; "we'll settle it +to-morrow. I'm too busy." + +"I suppose most of these things will have to go back, sir, if they're +only sent on approval like?" + +If he only knew where and how he could send them back! "I--I'm not +sure," he said; "I may have to keep them." + +"Well, sir, bargain or none, I wouldn't have 'em as a gift myself, being +so dirty and fusty; they can't be no use to anybody, not to mention +there being no room to move with them blocking up all the place. I'd +better tell Rapkin to carry 'em all upstairs out of people's way." + +"Certainly not," said Horace, sharply, by no means anxious for the +Rapkins to discover the real nature of his treasures. "Don't touch them, +either of you. Leave them exactly as they are, do you understand?" + +"As you please, Mr. Ventimore, sir; only, if they're not to be +interfered with, I don't see myself how you're going to set your friends +down to dinner to-morrow, that's all." + +And, indeed, considering that the table and every available chair, and +even the floor, were heaped so high with valuables that Horace himself +could only just squeeze his way between the piles, it seemed as if his +guests might find themselves inconveniently cramped. + +"It will be all right," he said, with an optimism he was very far from +feeling; "we'll manage somehow--leave it to me." + +Before he left for his office he took the precaution to baffle any +inquisitiveness on the part of his landlady by locking his sitting-room +door and carrying away the key, but it was in a very different mood from +his former light-hearted confidence that he sat down to his +drawing-board in Great Cloister Street that morning. He could not +concentrate his mind; his enthusiasm and his ideas had alike deserted +him. + +He flung down the dividers he had been using and pushed away the nest of +saucers of Indian ink and colours in a fit of petulance. "It's no good," +he exclaimed aloud; "I feel a perfect duffer this morning. I couldn't +even design a decent dog-kennel!" + +Even as he spoke he became conscious of a presence in the room, and, +looking round, saw Fakrash the Jinnee standing at his elbow, smiling +down on him more benevolently than ever, and with a serene expectation +of being warmly welcomed and thanked, which made Horace rather ashamed +of his own inability to meet it. + +"He's a thoroughly good-natured old chap," he thought, +self-reproachfully. "He means well, and I'm a beast not to feel more +glad to see him. And yet, hang it all! I can't have him popping in and +out of the office like a rabbit whenever the fancy takes him!" + +"Peace be upon thee," said Fakrash. "Moderate the trouble of thy heart, +and impart thy difficulties to me." + +"Oh, they're nothing, thanks," said Horace, feeling decidedly +embarrassed. "I got stuck over my work for the moment, and it worried me +a little--that's all." + +"Then thou hast not yet received the gifts which I commanded should be +delivered at thy dwelling-place?" + +"Oh, indeed I have!" replied Horace; "and--and I really don't know how +to thank you for them." + +"A few trifling presents," answered the Jinnee, "and by no means suited +to thy dignity--yet the best in my power to bestow upon thee for the +time being." + +"My dear sir, they simply overwhelm me with their magnificence! They're +beyond all price, and--and I've no idea what to do with such a +superabundance." + +"A superfluity of good things is good," was the Jinnee's sententious +reply. + +"Not in my particular case. I--I quite feel your goodness and +generosity; but, indeed, as I told you before, it's really impossible +for me to accept any such reward." + +Fakrash's brows contracted slightly. "How sayest thou that it is +impossible--seeing that these things are already in thy possession?" + +"I know," said Horace; "but--you won't be offended if I speak quite +plainly?" + +"Art thou not even as a son to me, and can I be angered at any words of +thine?" + +"Well," said Horace, with sudden hope, "honestly, then, I would very +much rather--if you're sure you don't mind--that you would take them all +back again." + +"What? Dost thou demand that I, Fakrash-el-Aamash, should consent to +receive back the gifts I have bestowed? Are they, then, of so little +value in thy sight?" + +"They're of too much value. If I took such a reward for--for a very +ordinary service, I should never be able to respect myself again." + +"This is not the reasoning of an intelligent person," said the Jinnee, +coldly. + +"If you think me a fool, I can't help it. I'm not an ungrateful fool, at +all events. But I feel very strongly that I can't keep these gifts of +yours." + +"So thou wouldst have me break the oath which I swore to reward thee +fitly for thy kind action?" + +"But you _have_ rewarded me already," said Horace, "by contriving that a +wealthy merchant should engage me to build him a residence. And--forgive +my plain speaking--if you truly desire my happiness (as I am sure you +do) you will relieve me of all these precious gems and merchandise, +because, to be frank, they will _not_ make me happy. On the contrary, +they are making me extremely uncomfortable." + +"In the days of old," said Fakrash, "all men pursued wealth; nor could +any amass enough to satisfy his desires. Have riches, then, become so +contemptible in mortal eyes that thou findest them but an encumbrance? +Explain the matter." + +Horace felt a natural delicacy in giving his real reasons. "I can't +answer for other men," he said. "All I know is that I've never been +accustomed to being rich, and I'd rather get used to it gradually, and +be able to feel that I owed it, as far as possible, to my own exertions. +For, as I needn't tell _you_, Mr. Fakrash, riches alone don't make any +fellow happy. You must have observed that they're apt to--well, to land +him in all kinds of messes and worries.... I'm talking like a confounded +copybook," he thought, "but I don't care how priggish I am if I can only +get my way!" + +Fakrash was deeply impressed. "O young man of marvellous moderation!" he +cried. "Thy sentiments are not inferior to those of the Great Suleyman +himself (on whom be peace!). Yet even he doth not utterly despise them, +for he hath gold and ivory and precious stones in abundance. Nor +hitherto have I ever met a human being capable of rejecting them when +offered. But, since thou seemest sincere in holding that my poor and +paltry gifts will not advance thy welfare, and since I would do thee +good and not evil--be it even as thou wouldst. For excellently was it +said: 'The worth of a present depends not on itself, nor on the giver, +but on the receiver alone.'" + +Horace could hardly believe that he had really prevailed. "It's +extremely good of you, sir," he said, "to take it so well. And if you +_could_ let that caravan call for them as soon as possible, it would be +a great convenience to me. I mean--er--the fact is, I'm expecting a few +friends to dine with me to-morrow, and, as my rooms are rather small at +the best of times, I don't quite know how I can manage to entertain +them at all unless something is done." + +"It will be the easiest of actions," replied Fakrash; "therefore, have +no fear that, when the time cometh, thou wilt not be able to entertain +thy friends in a fitting manner. And for the caravan, it shall set out +without delay." + +"By Jove, though, I'd forgotten one thing," said Horace: "I've locked up +the room where your presents are--they won't be able to get in without +the key." + +"Against the servants of the Jinn neither bolts nor bars can prevail. +They shall enter therein and remove all that they brought thee, since it +is thy desire." + +"Very many thanks," said Horace. "And you do _really_ understand that +I'm every bit as grateful as if I could keep the things? You see, I want +all my time and all my energies to complete the designs for this +building, which," he added gracefully, "I should never be in a position +to do at all, but for your assistance." + +"On my arrival," said Fakrash, "I heard thee lamenting the difficulties +of the task; wherein do they consist?" + +"Oh," said Horace, "it's a little difficult to please all the different +people concerned, and myself too. I want to make something of it that I +shall be proud of, and that will give me a reputation. It's a large +house, and there will be a good deal of work in it; but I shall manage +it all right." + +"This is a great undertaking indeed," remarked the Jinnee, after he had +asked various by no means unintelligent questions and received the +answers. "But be persuaded that it shall all turn out most fortunately +and thou shalt obtain great renown. And now," he concluded, "I am +compelled to take leave of thee, for I am still without any certain +tidings of Suleyman." + +"You mustn't let me keep you," said Horace, who had been on thorns for +some minutes lest Beevor should return and find him with his mysterious +visitor. "You see," he added instructively, "so long as you _will_ +neglect your own much more important affairs to look after mine, you can +hardly expect to make _much_ progress, can you?" + +"How excellent is the saying," replied the Jinnee: "'The time which is +spent in doing kindnesses, call it not wasted.'" + +"Yes, that's very good," said Horace, feeling driven to silence this +maxim, if possible, with one of his own invention. "But _we_ have a +saying too--how does it go? Ah, I remember. 'It is possible for a +kindness to be more inconvenient than an injury.'" + +"Marvellously gifted was he who discovered such a saying!" cried +Fakrash. + +"I imagine," said Horace, "he learnt it from his own experience. By the +way, what place were you thinking of drawing--I mean trying--next for +Suleyman?" + +"I purpose to repair to Nineveh, and inquire there." + +"Capital," said Ventimore, with hearty approval, for he hoped that this +would take the Jinnee some little time. "Wonderful city, Nineveh, from +all I've heard--though not quite what it used to be, perhaps. Then +there's Babylon--you might go on there. And if you shouldn't hear of him +there, why not strike down into Central Africa, and do that thoroughly? +Or South America; it's a pity to lose any chance--you've never been to +South America yet?" + +"I have not so much as heard of such a country, and how should Suleyman +be there?" + +"Pardon me, I didn't say he _was_ there. All I meant to convey was, that +he's quite as likely to be there as anywhere else. But if you're going +to Nineveh first, you'd better lose no more time, for I've always +understood that it's rather an awkward place to get at--though probably +_you_ won't find it very difficult." + +"I care not," said Fakrash, "though the search be long, for in travel +there are five advantages----" + +"I know," interrupted Horace, "so don't stop to describe them now. I +should like to see you fairly started, and you really mustn't think it +necessary to break off your search again on my account, because, thanks +to you, I shall get on splendidly alone for the future--if you'll kindly +see that that merchandise is removed." + +"Thine abode shall not be encumbered with it for another hour," said the +Jinnee. "O thou judicious one, in whose estimation wealth is of no +value, know that I have never encountered a mortal who pleased me as +thou hast; and moreover, be assured that such magnanimity as thine shall +not go without a recompense!" + +"How often must I tell you," said Horace, in a glow of impatience, "that +I am already much more than recompensed? Now, my kind, generous old +friend," he added, with an emotion that was not wholly insincere, "the +time has come to bid you farewell--for ever. Let me picture you as +revisiting your former haunts, penetrating to quarters of the globe +(for, whether you are aware of it or not, this earth of ours _is_ a +globe) hitherto unknown to you, refreshing your mind by foreign travel +and the study of mankind--but never, never for a moment losing sight of +your main object, the eventual discovery of and reconciliation with +Suleyman (on whom be peace!). That is the greatest, the only happiness +you can give me now. Good-bye, and _bon voyage_!" + +"May Allah never deprive thy friends of thy presence!" returned the +Jinnee, who was apparently touched by this exordium, "for truly thou art +a most excellent young man!" + +And stepping back into the fireplace, he was gone in an instant. + +Ventimore sank back in his chair with a sigh of relief. He had begun to +fear that the Jinnee never would take himself off, but he had gone at +last--and for good. + +He was half ashamed of himself for feeling so glad, for Fakrash was a +good-natured old thing enough in his way. Only he _would_ overdo things: +he had no sense of proportion. "Why," thought Horace, "if a fellow +expressed a modest wish for a canary in a cage he's just the sort of old +Jinnee to bring him a whole covey of rocs in an aviary about ten times +the size of the Crystal Palace. However, he _does_ understand now that I +can't take anything more from him, and he isn't offended either, so +_that's_ all settled. Now I can set to work and knock off these plans in +peace and quietness." + +But he had not done much before he heard sounds in the next room which +told him that Beevor had returned at last. He had been expected back +from the country for the last day or two, and it was fortunate that he +had delayed so long, thought Ventimore, as he went in to see him and to +tell him the unexpected piece of good fortune that he himself had met +with since they last met. It is needless to say that, in giving his +account, he abstained from any mention of the brass bottle or the +Jinnee, as unessential elements in his story. + +Beevor's congratulations were quite as cordial as could be expected, as +soon as he fully understood that no hoax was intended. "Well, old man," +he said, "I _am_ glad. I really am, you know. To think of a prize like +that coming to you the very first time! And you don't even know how this +Mr. Wackerbath came to hear of you--just happened to see your name up +outside and came in, I expect. Why, I dare say, if I hadn't chanced to +go away as I did--and about a couple of paltry two thousand pound +houses, too! Ah, well, I don't grudge you your luck, though it _does_ +seem rather---- It was worth waiting for; you'll be cutting _me_ out +before long--if you don't make a mess of this job. I mean, you know, old +chap, if you don't go and give your City man a Gothic castle when what +he wants is something with plenty of plate-glass windows and a +Corinthian portico. That's the rock I see ahead of _you_. You mustn't +mind my giving you a word of warning!" + +"Oh no," said Ventimore; "but I shan't give him either a Gothic castle +or plenty of plate-glass. I venture to think he'll be pleased with the +general idea as I'm working it out." + +"Let's hope so," said Beevor. "If you get into any difficulty, you +know," he added, with a touch of patronage, "just you come to me." + +"Thanks," said Horace, "I will. But I'm getting on very fairly at +present." + +"I should rather like to see what you've made of it. I might be able to +give you a wrinkle here and there." + +"It's awfully good of you, but I think I'd rather you didn't see the +plans till they're quite finished," said Horace. The truth was that he +was perfectly aware that the other would not be in sympathy with his +ideas; and Horace, who had just been suffering from a cold fit of +depression about his work, rather shrank from any kind of criticism. + +"Oh, just as you please!" said Beevor, a little stiffly; "you always +_were_ an obstinate beggar. I've had a certain amount of experience, you +know, in my poor little pottering way, and I thought I might possibly +have saved you a cropper or two. But if you think you can manage better +alone--only don't get bolted with by one of those architectural hobbies +of yours, that's all." + +"All right, old fellow. I'll ride my hobby on the curb," said Horace, +laughing, as he went back to his own office, where he found that all his +former certainty and enjoyment of his work had returned to him, and by +the end of the day he had made so much progress that his designs needed +only a few finishing touches to be complete enough for his client's +inspection. + +Better still, on returning to his rooms that evening to change before +going to Kensington, he found that the admirable Fakrash had kept his +promise--every chest, sack, and bale had been cleared away. + +"Them camels come back for the things this afternoon, sir," said Mrs. +Rapkin, "and it put me in a fluster at first, for I made sure you'd +locked your door and took the key. But I must have been +mistook--leastways, them Arabs got in somehow. I hope you meant +everything to go back?" + +"Quite," said Horace; "I saw the--the person who sent them this morning, +and told him there was nothing I cared for enough to keep." + +"And like his impidence sending you a lot o' rubbish like that on +approval--and on camels, too!" declared Mrs. Rapkin. "I'm sure I don't +know what them advertising firms will try next--pushing, _I_ call it." + +Now that everything was gone, Horace felt a little natural regret and +doubt whether he need have been quite so uncompromising in his refusal +of the treasures. "I might have kept some of those tissues and things +for Sylvia," he thought; "and she loves pearls. And a prayer-carpet +would have pleased the Professor tremendously. But no, after all, it +wouldn't have done. Sylvia couldn't go about in pearls the size of new +potatoes, and the Professor would only have ragged me for more reckless +extravagance. Besides, if I'd taken any of the Jinnee's gifts, he might +keep on pouring more in, till I should be just where I was before--or +worse off, really, because I couldn't decently refuse them, then. So +it's best as it is." + +And really, considering his temperament and the peculiar nature of his +position, it is not easy to see how he could have arrived at any other +conclusion. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +BACHELOR'S QUARTERS + + +Horace was feeling particularly happy as he walked back the next evening +to Vincent Square. He had the consciousness of having done a good day's +work, for the sketch-plans for Mr. Wackerbath's mansion were actually +completed and despatched to his business address, while Ventimore now +felt a comfortable assurance that his designs would more than satisfy +his client. + +But it was not that which made him so light of heart. That night his +rooms were to be honoured for the first time by Sylvia's presence. She +would tread upon his carpet, sit in his chairs, comment upon, and +perhaps even handle, his books and ornaments--and all of them would +retain something of her charm for ever after. If she only came! For even +now he could not quite believe that she really would; that some untoward +event would not make a point of happening to prevent her, as he +sometimes doubted whether his engagement was not too sweet and wonderful +to be true--or, at all events, to last. + +As to the dinner, his mind was tolerably easy, for he had settled the +remaining details of the _menu_ with his landlady that morning, and he +could hope that without being so sumptuous as to excite the Professor's +wrath, it would still be not altogether unworthy--and what goods could +be rare and dainty enough?--to be set before Sylvia. + +He would have liked to provide champagne, but he knew that wine would +savour of ostentation in the Professor's judgment, so he had contented +himself instead with claret, a sound vintage which he knew he could +depend upon. Flowers, he thought, were clearly permissible, and he had +called at a florist's on his way and got some chrysanthemums of palest +yellow and deepest terra-cotta, the finest he could see. Some of them +would look well on the centre of the table in an old Nankin +blue-and-white bowl he had; the rest he could arrange about the room: +there would just be time to see to all that before dressing. + +Occupied with these thoughts, he turned into Vincent Square, which +looked vaster than ever with the murky haze, enclosed by its high +railings, and under a wide expanse of steel-blue sky, across which the +clouds were driving fast like ships in full sail scudding for harbour +before a storm. Against the mist below, the young and nearly leafless +trees showed flat, black profiles as of pressed seaweed, and the sky +immediately above the house-tops was tinged with a sullen red from miles +of lighted streets; from the river came the long-drawn tooting of tugs, +mingled with the more distant wail and hysterical shrieks of railway +engines on the Lambeth lines. + +And now he reached the old semi-detached house in which he lodged, and +noticed for the first time how the trellis-work of the veranda made, +with the bared creepers and hanging baskets, a kind of decorative +pattern against the windows, which were suffused with a roseate glow +that looked warm and comfortable and hospitable. He wondered whether +Sylvia would notice it when she arrived. + +He passed under the old wrought-iron arch that once held an oil-lamp, +and up a short but rather steep flight of steps, which led to a brick +porch built out at the side. Then he let himself in, and stood +spellbound with perplexed amazement,--for he was in a strange house. + +In place of the modest passage with the yellow marble wall-paper, the +mahogany hat-stand, and the elderly barometer in a state of chronic +depression which he knew so well, he found an arched octagonal +entrance-hall with arabesques of blue, crimson, and gold, and +richly-embroidered hangings; the floor was marble, and from a shallow +basin of alabaster in the centre a perfumed fountain rose and fell with +a lulling patter. + +"I must have mistaken the number," he thought, quite forgetting that his +latch-key had fitted, and he was just about to retreat before his +intrusion was discovered, when the hangings parted, and Mrs. Rapkin +presented herself, making so deplorably incongruous a figure in such +surroundings, and looking so bewildered and woebegone, that Horace, in +spite of his own increasing uneasiness, had some difficulty in keeping +his gravity. + +"Oh, Mr. Ventimore, sir," she lamented; "whatever _will_ you go and do +next, I wonder? To think of your going and having the whole place done +up and altered out of knowledge like this, without a word of warning! If +any halterations were required, I _do_ think as me and Rapkin had the +right to be consulted." + +Horace let all his chrysanthemums drop unheeded into the fountain. He +understood now: indeed, he seemed in some way to have understood almost +from the first, only he would not admit it even to himself. + +The irrepressible Jinnee was at the bottom of this, of course. He +remembered now having made that unfortunate remark the day before about +the limited accommodation his rooms afforded. + +Clearly Fakrash must have taken a mental note of it, and, with that +insatiable munificence which was one of his worst failings, had +determined, by way of a pleasant surprise, to entirely refurnish and +redecorate the apartments according to his own ideas. + +It was extremely kind of him; it showed a truly grateful +disposition--"but, oh!" as Horace thought, in the bitterness of his +soul, "if he would only learn to let well alone and mind his own +business!" + +However, the thing was done now, and he must accept the responsibility +for it, since he could hardly disclose the truth. "Didn't I mention I +was having some alterations made?" he said carelessly. "They've got the +work done rather sooner than I expected. Were--were they long over it?" + +"I'm sure I can't tell you, sir, having stepped out to get some things I +wanted in for to-night; and Rapkin, he was round the corner at his +reading-room; and when I come back it was all done and the workmen gone +'ome; and how they could have finished such a job in the time beats me +altogether, for when we 'ad the men in to do the back kitchen they took +ten days over it." + +"Well," said Horace, evading this point, "however they've done this, +they've done it remarkably well--you'll admit that, Mrs. Rapkin?" + +"That's as may be sir," said Mrs. Rapkin, with a sniff, "but it ain't +_my_ taste, nor yet I don't think it will be Rapkin's taste when he +comes to see it." + +It was not Ventimore's taste either, though he was not going to confess +it. "Sorry for that, Mrs. Rapkin," he said, "but I've no time to talk +about it now. I must rush upstairs and dress." + +"Begging your pardon, sir, but that's a total unpossibility--for they've +been and took away the staircase.' + +"Taken away the staircase? Nonsense!" cried Horace. + +"So _I_ think, Mr. Ventimore--but it's what them men have done, and if +you don't believe me, come and see for yourself!" + +She drew the hangings aside, and revealed to Ventimore's astonished gaze +a vast pillared hall with a lofty domed roof, from which hung several +lamps, diffusing a subdued radiance. High up in the wall, on his left, +were the two windows which he judged to have formerly belonged to his +sitting-room (for either from delicacy or inability, or simply because +it had not occurred to him, the Jinnee had not interfered with the +external structure), but the windows were now masked by a perforated +and gilded lattice, which accounted for the pattern Horace had noticed +from without. The walls were covered with blue-and-white Oriental tiles, +and a raised platform of alabaster on which were divans ran round two +sides of the hall, while the side opposite to him was pierced with +horseshoe-shaped arches, apparently leading to other apartments. The +centre of the marble floor was spread with costly rugs and piles of +cushions, their rich hues glowing through the gold with which they were +intricately embroidered. + +"Well," said the unhappy Horace, scarcely knowing what he was saying, +"it--it all looks very _cosy_, Mrs. Rapkin." + +"It's not for me to say, sir; but I should like to know where you +thought of dining?" + +"Where?" said Horace. "Why, here, of course. There's plenty of room." + +"There isn't a table left in the house," said Mrs. Rapkin; "so, unless +you'd wish the cloth laid on the floor----" + +"Oh, there must be a table somewhere," said Horace, impatiently, "or you +can borrow one. Don't _make_ difficulties, Mrs. Rapkin. Rig up anything +you like.... Now I must be off and dress." + +He got rid of her, and, on entering one of the archways, discovered a +smaller room, in cedar-wood encrusted with ivory and mother-o'-pearl, +which was evidently his bedroom. A gorgeous robe, stiff with gold and +glittering with ancient gems, was laid out for him--for the Jinnee had +thought of everything--but Ventimore, naturally, preferred his own +evening clothes. + +"Mr. Rapkin!" he shouted, going to another arch that seemed to +communicate with the basement. + +"Sir?" replied his landlord, who had just returned from his +"reading-room," and now appeared, without a tie and in his +shirt-sleeves, looking pale and wild, as was, perhaps, intelligible in +the circumstances. As he entered his unfamiliar marble halls he +staggered, and his red eyes rolled and his mouth gaped in a cod-like +fashion. "They've been at it 'ere, too, seemin'ly," he remarked huskily. + +"There have been a few changes," said Horace, quietly, "as you can see. +You don't happen to know where they've put my dress-clothes, do you?" + +"I don't 'appen to know where they've put nothink. Your dress clothes? +Why, I dunno where they've bin and put our little parler where me and +Maria 'ave set of a hevenin' all these years regular. I dunno where +they've put the pantry, nor yet the bath-room, with 'ot and cold water +laid on at my own expense. And you arsk me to find your hevenin' soot! I +consider, sir, I consider that a unwall--that a most unwarrant-terrible +liberty have bin took at my expense." + +"My good man, don't talk rubbish!" said Horace. + +"I'm talking to you about what _I know_, and I assert that an +Englishman's 'ome is his cashle, and nobody's got the right when his +backsh turned to go and make a 'Ummums of it. Not _nobody_ 'asn't!" + +"Make a _what_ of it?" cried Ventimore. + +"A 'Ummums--that's English, ain't it? A bloomin' Turkish baths! Who do +you suppose is goin' to take apartments furnished in this 'ere +ridic'loush style? What am I goin' to say to my landlord? It'll about +ruing me, this will; and after you bein' a lodger 'ere for five year and +more, and regarded by me and Maria in the light of one of the family. +It's 'ard--it's damned 'ard!" + +"Now, look here," said Ventimore, sharply--for it was obvious that Mr. +Rapkin's studies had been lightened by copious refreshment--"pull +yourself together, man, and listen to me." + +"I respeckfully decline to pull myshelf togerrer f'r anybody livin'," +said Mr. Rapkin, with a noble air. "I shtan' 'ere upon my dignity as a +man, sir. I shay, I shtand 'ere upon----" Here he waved his hand, and +sat down suddenly upon the marble floor. + +"You can stand on anything you like--or can," said Horace; "but hear +what I've got to say. The--the people who made all these alterations +went beyond my instructions. I never wanted the house interfered with +like this. Still, if your landlord doesn't see that its value is +immensely improved, he's a fool, that's all. Anyway, I'll take care +_you_ shan't suffer. If I have to put everything back in its former +state, I will, at my own expense. So don't bother any more about +_that_." + +"You're a gen'l'man, Mr. Ventimore," said Rapkin, cautiously regaining +his feet. "There's no mishtaking a gen'l'man. _I'm_ a gen'l'man." + +"Of course you are," said Horace genially, "and I'll tell you how you're +going to show it. You're going straight downstairs to get your good wife +to pour some cold water over your head; and then you will finish +dressing, see what you can do to get a table of some sort and lay it for +dinner, and be ready to announce my friends when they arrive, and wait +afterwards. Do you see?" + +"That will be all ri', Mr. Ventimore," said Rapkin, who was not far gone +enough to be beyond understanding or obeying. "You leave it entirely to +me. I'll unnertake that your friends shall be made comforrable, perfelly +comforrable. I've lived as butler in the besht, the mosht ecxlu--most +arishto--you know the sort o' fam'lies I'm tryin' to r'member--and--and +everything was always all ri', and _I_ shall be all ri' in a few +minutes." + +With this assurance he stumbled downstairs, leaving Horace relieved to +some extent. Rapkin would be sober enough after his head had been under +the tap for a few minutes, and in any case there would be the hired +waiter to rely upon. + +If he could only find out where his evening clothes were! He returned to +his room and made another frantic search--but they were nowhere to be +found; and as he could not bring himself to receive his guests in his +ordinary morning costume--which the Professor would probably construe as +a deliberate slight, and which would certainly seem a solecism in Mrs. +Futvoye's eyes, if not in her daughter's--he decided to put on the +Eastern robes, with the exception of a turban, which he could not manage +to wind round his head. + +Thus arrayed he re-entered the domed hall, where he was annoyed to find +that no attempt had been made as yet to prepare a dinner-table, and he +was just looking forlornly round for a bell when Rapkin appeared. He had +apparently followed Horace's advice, for his hair looked wet and sleek, +and he was comparatively sober. + +"This is too bad!" cried Horace; "my friends may be here at any moment +now--and nothing done. You don't propose to wait at table like that, do +you?" he added, as he noted the man's overcoat and the comforter round +his throat. + +"I do not propose to wait in any garments whatsoever," said Rapkin; "I'm +a-goin' out, I am." + +"Very well," said Horace; "then send the waiter up--I suppose he's +come?" + +"He come--but he went away again--I told him as he wouldn't be +required." + +"You told him that!" Horace said angrily, and then controlled himself. +"Come, Rapkin, be reasonable. You can't really mean to leave your wife +to cook the dinner, and serve it too!" + +"She ain't intending to do neither; she've left the house already." + +"You must fetch her back," cried Horace. "Good heavens, man, _can't_ you +see what a fix you're leaving me in? My friends have started long +ago--it's too late to wire to them, or make any other arrangements." + +There was a knock, as he spoke, at the front door; and odd enough was +the familiar sound of the cast-iron knocker in that Arabian hall. + +"There they are!" he said, and the idea of meeting them at the door and +proposing an instant adjournment to a restaurant occurred to him--till +he suddenly recollected that he would have to change and try to find +some money, even for that. "For the last time, Rapkin," he cried in +despair, "do you mean to tell me there's no dinner ready?" + +"Oh," said Rapkin, "there's dinner right enough, and a lot o' barbarious +furriners downstairs a cookin' of it--that's what broke Maria's 'art--to +see it all took out of her 'ands, after the trouble she'd gone to." + +"But I must have somebody to wait," exclaimed Horace. + +"You've got waiters enough, as far as that goes. But if you expect a +hordinary Christian man to wait along of a lot o' narsty niggers, and be +at their beck and call, you're mistook, sir, for I'm going to sleep the +night at my brother-in-law's and take his advice, he bein' a doorkeeper +at a solicitor's orfice and knowing the law, about this 'ere business, +and so I wish you a good hevening, and 'oping your dinner will be to +your liking and satisfaction." + +He went out by the farther archway, while from the entrance-hall Horace +could hear voices he knew only too well. The Futvoyes had come; well, at +all events, it seemed that there would be something for them to eat, +since Fakrash, in his anxiety to do the thing thoroughly, had furnished +both the feast and attendance himself--but who was there to announce the +guests? Where were these waiters Rapkin had spoken of? Ought he to go +and bring in his visitors himself? + +These questions answered themselves the next instant, for, as he stood +there under the dome, the curtains of the central arch were drawn with a +rattle, and disclosed a double line of tall slaves in rich raiment, +their onyx eyes rolling and their teeth flashing in their chocolate-hued +countenances, as they salaamed. + +Between this double line stood Professor and Mrs. Futvoye and Sylvia, +who had just removed their wraps and were gazing in undisguised +astonishment on the splendours which met their view. + +Horace advanced to receive them; he felt he was in for it now, and the +only course left him was to put as good a face as he could on the +matter, and trust to luck to pull him through without discovery or +disaster. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +"PERSICOS ODI, PUER, APPARATUS" + + +"So you've found your way here at last?" said Horace, as he shook hands +heartily with the Professor and Mrs. Futvoye. "I can't tell you how +delighted I am to see you." + +As a matter of fact, he was very far from being at ease, which made him +rather over-effusive, but he was determined that, if he could help it, +he would not betray the slightest consciousness of anything _bizarre_ or +unusual in his domestic arrangements. + +"And these," said Mrs. Futvoye, who was extremely stately in black, +with old lace and steel embroidery--"these are the bachelor lodgings you +were so modest about! Really," she added, with a humorous twinkle in her +shrewd eyes, "you young men seem to understand how to make yourselves +comfortable--don't they, Anthony?" + +"They do, indeed," said the Professor, dryly, though it manifestly cost +him some effort to conceal his appreciation. "To produce such results as +these must, if I mistake not, have entailed infinite research--and +considerable expense." + +"No," said Horace, "no. You--you'd be surprised if you knew how little." + +"I should have imagined," retorted the Professor, "that _any_ outlay on +apartments which I presume you do not contemplate occupying for an +extended period must be money thrown away. But, doubtless, you know +best." + +"But your rooms are quite wonderful, Horace!" cried Sylvia, her charming +eyes dilating with admiration. "And where, _where_ did you get that +magnificent dressing-gown? I never saw anything so lovely in my life!" + +She herself was lovely enough in a billowy, shimmering frock of a +delicate apple-green hue, her only ornament a deep-blue Egyptian scarab +with spread wings, which was suspended from her neck by a slender gold +chain. + +"I--I ought to apologise for receiving you in this costume," said +Horace, with embarrassment; "but the fact is, I couldn't find my evening +clothes anywhere, so--so I put on the first things that came to hand." + +"It is hardly necessary," said the Professor, conscious of being +correctly clad, and unconscious that his shirt-front was bulging and his +long-eared white tie beginning to work up towards his left jaw--"hardly +necessary to offer any apology for the simplicity of your costume--which +is entirely in keeping with the--ah--strictly Oriental character of your +interior." + +"_I_ feel dreadfully out of keeping!" said Sylvia, "for there's nothing +in the least Oriental about _me_--unless it's my scarab--and he's I +don't know how many centuries behind the time, poor dear!" + +"If you said 'thousands of years,' my dear," corrected the Professor, +"you would be more accurate. That scarab was taken out of a tomb of the +thirteenth dynasty." + +"Well, I'm sure he'd rather be where he is," said Sylvia, and Ventimore +entirely agreed with her. "Horace, I _must_ look at everything. How +clever and original of you to transform an ordinary London house into +this!" + +"Oh, well, you see," explained Horace, "it--it wasn't exactly done by +me." + +"Whoever did it," said the Professor, "must have devoted considerable +study to Eastern art and architecture. May I ask the name of the firm +who executed the alterations?" + +"I really couldn't tell you, sir," answered Horace, who was beginning +to understand how very bad a _mauvais quart d'heure_ can be. + +"You can't tell me!" exclaimed the Professor. "You order these +extensive, and _I_ should say expensive, decorations, and you don't know +the firm you selected to carry them out!" + +"Of course I _know_," said Horace, "only I don't happen to remember at +this moment. Let me see, now. Was it Liberty? No, I'm almost certain it +wasn't Liberty. It might have been Maple, but I'm not sure. Whoever did +do it, they were marvellously cheap." + +"I am glad to hear it," said the Professor, in his most unpleasant tone. +"Where is your dining-room?" + +"Why, I rather think," said Horace, helplessly, as he saw a train of +attendants laying a round cloth on the floor, "I rather think _this_ is +the dining-room." + +"You appear to be in some doubt?" said the Professor. + +"I leave it to them--it depends where they choose to lay the cloth," +said Horace. "Sometimes in one place; sometimes in another. There's a +great charm in uncertainty," he faltered. + +"Doubtless," said the Professor. + +By this time two of the slaves, under the direction of a tall and +turbaned black, had set a low ebony stool, inlaid with silver and +tortoiseshell in strange devices, on the round carpet, when other +attendants followed with a circular silver tray containing covered +dishes, which they placed on the stool and salaamed. + +"Your--ah--groom of the chambers," said the Professor, "seems to have +decided that we should dine here. I observe they are making signs to you +that the food is on the table." + +"So it is," said Ventimore. "Shall we sit down?" + +"But, my dear Horace," said Mrs. Futvoye, "your butler has forgotten the +chairs." + +"You don't appear to realise, my dear," said the Professor, "that in +such an interior as this chairs would be hopelessly incongruous." + +"I'm afraid there aren't any," said Horace, for there was nothing but +four fat cushions. "Let's sit down on these," he proposed. "It--it's +more fun!" + +"At my time of life," said the Professor, irritably, as he let himself +down on the plumpest cushion, "such fun as may be derived from eating +one's meals on the floor fails to appeal to my sense of humour. However, +I admit that it is thoroughly Oriental." + +"_I_ think it's delightful," said Sylvia; "ever so much nicer than a +stiff, conventional dinner-party." + +"One may be unconventional," remarked her father, "without escaping the +penalty of stiffness. Go away, sir! go away!" he added snappishly, to +one of the slaves, who was attempting to pour water over his hands. +"Your servant, Ventimore, appears to imagine that I go out to dinner +without taking the trouble to wash my hands previously. This, I may +mention, is _not_ the case." + +"It's only an Eastern ceremony, Professor," said Horace. + +"I am perfectly well aware of what is customary in the East," retorted +the Professor; "it does not follow that such--ah--hygienic precautions +are either necessary or desirable at a Western table." + +Horace made no reply; he was too much occupied in gazing blankly at the +silver dish-covers and wondering what in the world might be underneath; +nor was his perplexity relieved when the covers were removed, for he was +quite at a loss to guess how he was supposed to help the contents +without so much as a fork. + +The chief attendant, however, solved that difficulty by intimating in +pantomime that the guests were expected to use their fingers. + +Sylvia accomplished this daintily and with intense amusement, but her +father and mother made no secret of their repugnance. "If I were dining +in the desert with a Sheik, sir," observed the Professor, "I should, I +hope, know how to conform to his habits and prejudices. Here, in the +heart of London, I confess all this strikes me as a piece of needless +pedantry." + +"I'm very sorry," said Horace; "I'd have some knives and forks if I +could--but I'm afraid these fellows don't even understand what they are, +so it's useless to order any. We--we must rough it a little, that's all. +I hope that--er--fish is all right, Professor?" + +He did not know precisely what kind of fish it was, but it was fried in +oil of sesame and flavoured with a mixture of cinnamon and ginger, and +the Professor did not appear to be making much progress with it. +Ventimore himself would have infinitely preferred the original cod and +oyster sauce, but that could not be helped now. + +"Thank you," said the Professor, "it is curious--but characteristic. Not +_any_ more, thank you." + +Horace could only trust that the next course would be more of a success. +It was a dish of mutton, stewed with peaches, jujubes and sugar, which +Sylvia declared was delicious. Her parents made no comment. + +"Might I ask for something to drink?" said the Professor, presently; +whereupon a cupbearer poured him a goblet of iced sherbet perfumed with +conserve of violets. + +"I'm very sorry, my dear fellow," he said, after sipping it, "but if I +drink this I shall be ill all next day. If I might have a glass of +wine----" + +Another slave instantly handed him a cup of wine, which he tasted and +set down with a wry face and a shudder. Horace tried some afterwards, +and was not surprised. It was a strong, harsh wine, in which goatskin +and resin struggled for predominance. + +"It's an old and, I make no doubt, a fine wine," observed the Professor, +with studied politeness, "but I fancy it must have suffered in +transportation. I really think that, with my gouty tendency, a little +whisky and Apollinaris would be better for me--if you keep such +occidental fluids in the house?" + +Horace felt convinced that it would be useless to order the slaves to +bring whisky or Apollinaris, which were of course, unknown in the +Jinnee's time, so he could do nothing but apologise for their absence. + +"No matter," said the Professor; "I am not so thirsty that I cannot wait +till I get home." + +It was some consolation that both Sylvia and her mother commended the +sherbet, and even appreciated--or were so obliging as to say they +appreciated--the _entree_, which consisted of rice and mincemeat wrapped +in vine-leaves, and certainly was not appetising in appearance, besides +being difficult to dispose of gracefully. + +It was followed by a whole lamb fried in oil, stuffed with pounded +pistachio nuts, pepper, nutmeg, and coriander seeds, and liberally +besprinkled with rose-water and musk. + +Only Horace had sufficient courage to attack the lamb--and he found +reason to regret it. Afterwards came fowls stuffed with raisins, +parsley, and crumbled bread, and the banquet ended with pastry of weird +forms and repellent aspect. + +"I hope," said Horace, anxiously, "you don't find this Eastern cookery +very--er--unpalatable?"--he himself was feeling distinctly unwell: "it's +rather a change from the ordinary routine." + +"I have made a truly wonderful dinner, thank you," replied the +Professor, not, it is to be feared, without intention. "Even in the East +I have eaten nothing approaching this." + +"But where did your landlady pick up this extraordinary cooking, my dear +Horace?" said Mrs. Futvoye. "I thought you said she was merely a plain +cook. Has she ever lived in the East?" + +"Not exactly _in_ the East," exclaimed Horace; "not what you would call +_living_ there. The fact is," he continued, feeling that he was in +danger of drivelling, and that he had better be as candid as he could, +"this dinner _wasn't_ cooked by her. She--she was obliged to go away +quite suddenly. So the dinner was all sent in by--by a sort of +contractor, you know. He supplies the whole thing, waiters and all." + +"I was thinking," said the Professor, "that for a bachelor--an _engaged_ +bachelor--you seemed to maintain rather a large establishment." + +"Oh, they're only here for the evening, sir," said Horace. "Capital +fellows--more picturesque than the local greengrocer--and they don't +breathe on the top of your head." + +"They're perfect dears, Horace," remarked Sylvia; "only--well, just a +_little_ creepy-crawly to look at!" + +"It would ill become me to criticise the style and method of our +entertainment," put in the Professor, acidly, "otherwise I might be +tempted to observe that it scarcely showed that regard for economy which +I should have----" + +"Now, Anthony," put in his wife, "don't let us have any fault-finding. +I'm sure Horace has done it all delightfully--yes, delightfully; and +even if he _has_ been just a little extravagant, it's not as if he was +obliged to be as economical _now_, you know!" + +"My dear," said the Professor, "I have yet to learn that the prospect of +an increased income in the remote future is any justification for +reckless profusion in the present." + +"If you only knew," said Horace, "you wouldn't call it profusion. +It--it's not at all the dinner I meant it to be, and I'm afraid it +wasn't particularly nice--but it's certainly not expensive." + +"Expensive is, of course, a very relative term. But I think I have the +right to ask whether this is the footing on which you propose to begin +your married life?" + +It was an extremely awkward question, as the reader will perceive. If +Ventimore replied--as he might with truth--that he had no intention +whatever of maintaining his wife in luxury such as that, he stood +convicted of selfish indulgence as a bachelor; if, on the other hand, he +declared that he _did_ propose to maintain his wife in the same +fantastic and exaggerated splendour as the present, it would certainly +confirm her father's disbelief in his prudence and economy. + +And it was that egregious old ass of a Jinnee, as Horace thought, with +suppressed rage, who had let him in for all this, and who was now far +beyond all remonstrance or reproach! + +Before he could bring himself to answer the question, the attendants had +noiselessly removed the tray and stool, and were handing round rosewater +in a silver ewer and basin, the character of which, luckily or +otherwise, turned the Professor's inquisitiveness into a different +channel. + +"These are not bad--really not bad at all," he said, inspecting the +design. "Where did you manage to pick them up?" + +"I didn't," said Horace; "they're provided by the--the person who +supplies the dinner." + +"Can you give me his address?" said the Professor, scenting a bargain; +"because really, you know, these things are probably antiques--much too +good to be used for business purposes." + +"I'm wrong," said Horace, lamely; "these particular things are--are lent +by an eccentric Oriental gentleman, as a great favour." + +"Do I know him? Is he a collector of such things?" + +"You wouldn't have met him; he--he's lived a very retired life of late." + +"I should very much like to see his collection. If you could give me a +letter of introduction----" + +"No," said Horace, in a state of prickly heat; "it wouldn't be any use. +His collection is never shown. He--he's a most peculiar man. And just +now he's abroad." + +"Ah! pardon me if I've been indiscreet; but I concluded from what you +said that this--ah--banquet was furnished by a professional caterer." + +"Oh, the banquet? Yes, _that_ came from the Stores," said Horace, +mendaciously. "The--the Oriental Cookery Department. They've just +started it, you know; so--so I thought I'd give them a trial. But it's +not what I call properly organised yet." + +The slaves were now, with low obeisances, inviting them to seat +themselves on the divan which lined part of the hall. + +"Ha!" said the Professor, as he rose from his cushion, cracking audibly, +"so we're to have our coffee and what not over there, hey?... Well, my +boy, I shan't be sorry, I confess, to have something to lean my back +against--and a cigar, a mild cigar, will--ah--aid digestion. You _do_ +smoke here?" + +"Smoke?" said Horace, "Why, of course! All over the place. Here," he +said, clapping his hands, which brought an obsequious slave instantly to +his side; "just bring coffee and cigars, will you?" + +The slave rolled his brandy-ball eyes in obvious perplexity. + +"Coffee," said Horace; "you must know what coffee is. And cigarettes. +Well, _chibouks_, then--'hubble-bubbles'--if that's what you call them." + +But the slave clearly did not understand, and it suddenly struck Horace +that, since 'tobacco and coffee were not introduced, even in the East, +till long after the Jinnee's time, he, as the founder of the feast, +would naturally be unaware how indispensable they had become at the +present day. + +"I'm really awfully sorry," he said; "but they don't seem to have +provided any. I shall speak to the manager about it. And, unfortunately, +I don't know where my own cigars are." + +"It's of no consequence," said the Professor, with the sort of stoicism +that minds very much. "I am a moderate smoker at best, and Turkish +coffee, though delicious, is apt to keep me awake. But if you could let +me have a look at that brass bottle you got at poor Collingham's sale, I +should be obliged to you." + +Horace had no idea where it was then, nor could he, until the Professor +came to the rescue with a few words of Arabic, manage to make the slaves +comprehend what he wished them to find. + +At length, however, two of them appeared, bearing the brass bottle with +every sign of awe, and depositing it at Ventimore's feet. + +Professor Futvoye, after wiping and adjusting his glasses, proceeded to +examine the vessel. "It certainly is a most unusual type of brassware," +he said, "as unique in its way as the silver ewer and basin; and, as you +thought, there does seem to be something resembling an inscription on +the cap, though in this dim light it is almost impossible to be sure." + +While he was poring over it, Horace seated himself on the divan by +Sylvia's side, hoping for one of the whispered conversations permitted +to affianced lovers; he had pulled through the banquet somehow, and on +the whole he felt thankful things had not gone off worse. The noiseless +and uncanny attendants, whom he did not know whether to regard as +Efreets, or demons, or simply illusions, but whose services he had no +wish to retain, had all withdrawn. Mrs. Futvoye was peacefully +slumbering, and her husband was in a better humour than he had been all +the evening. + +Suddenly from behind the hangings of one of the archways came strange, +discordant sounds, barbaric janglings and thumpings, varied by yowls as +of impassioned cats. + +Sylvia drew involuntarily closer to Horace; her mother woke with a +start, and the Professor looked up from the brass bottle with returning +irritation. + +"What's this? What's this?" he demanded; "some fresh surprise in store +for us?" + +It was quite as much of a surprise for Horace, but he was spared the +humiliation of owning it by the entrance of some half-dozen dusky +musicians swathed in white and carrying various strangely fashioned +instruments, with which they squatted down in a semi-circle by the +opposite wall, and began to twang, and drub, and squall with the +complacent cacophony of an Eastern orchestra. Clearly Fakrash was +determined that nothing should be wanting to make the entertainment a +complete success. + +"What a very extraordinary noise!" said Mrs. Futvoye; "surely they can't +mean it for music?" + +"Yes, they do," said Horace; "it--it's really more harmonious than it +sounds--you have to get accustomed to the--er--notation. When you do, +it's rather soothing than otherwise." + +"I dare say," said the poor lady. "And do _they_ come from the Stores, +too?" + +"No," said Horace, with a fine assumption of candour, "they don't; they +come from--the Arab Encampment at Earl's Court--parties and _fetes_ +attended, you know. But they play _here_ for nothing; they--they want to +get their name known, you see; very deserving and respectable set of +fellows." + +"My dear Horace!" remarked Mrs. Futvoye, "if they expect to get +engagements for parties and so on, they really ought to try and learn a +tune of _some_ sort." + +"I understand, Horace," whispered Sylvia, "it's very naughty of you to +have gone to all this trouble and expense (for, of course, it _has_ cost +you a lot) just to please us; but, whatever, dad may say, I love you all +the better for doing it!" + +And her hand stole softly into his, and he felt that he could forgive +Fakrash everything, even--even the orchestra. + +But there was something unpleasantly spectral about their shadowy forms, +which showed in grotesquely baggy and bulgy shapes in the uncertain +light. Some of them wore immense and curious white head-dresses, which +gave them the appearance of poulticed thumbs; and they all went on +scraping and twiddling and caterwauling with a doleful monotony that +Horace felt must be getting on his guests' nerves, as it certainly was +on his own. + +He did not know how to get rid of them, but he sketched a kind of +gesture in the air, intended to intimate that, while their efforts had +afforded the keenest pleasure to the company generally, they were +unwilling to monopolise them any longer, and the artists were at liberty +to retire. + +Perhaps there is no art more liable to misconstruction than pantomime; +certainly, Ventimore's efforts in this direction were misunderstood, for +the music became wilder, louder, more aggressively and abominably out of +tune--and then a worse thing happened. + +For the curtains separated, and, heralded by sharp yelps from the +performers, a female figure floated into the hall and began to dance +with a slow and sinuous grace. + +Her beauty, though of a pronounced Oriental type, was unmistakable, even +in the subdued light which fell on her; her diaphanous robe indicated a +faultless form; her dark tresses were braided with sequins; she had the +long, lustrous eyes, the dusky cheeks artificially whitened, and the +fixed scarlet smile of the Eastern dancing-girl of all time. + +And she paced the floor with her tinkling feet, writhing and undulating +like some beautiful cobra, while the players worked themselves up to yet +higher and higher stages of frenzy. + +Ventimore, as he sat there looking helplessly on, felt a return of his +resentment against the Jinnee. It was really too bad of him; he ought, +at his age, to have known better! + +Not that there was anything objectionable in the performance itself; but +still, it was _not_ the kind of entertainment for such an occasion. +Horace wished now he had mentioned to Fakrash who the guests were whom +he expected, and then perhaps even the Jinnee would have exercised more +tact in his arrangements. + +"And does this girl come from Earl's Court?" inquired Mrs. Futvoye, who +was now thoroughly awake. + +"Oh dear, no," said Horace; "I engaged _her_ at--at Harrod's--the +Entertainment Bureau. They told me there she was rather good--struck out +a line of her own, don't you know. But perfectly correct; she--she only +does this to support an invalid aunt." + +These statements were, as he felt even in making them, not only +gratuitous, but utterly unconvincing, but he had arrived at that +condition in which a man discovers with terror the unsuspected amount of +mendacity latent in his system. + +"I should have thought there were other ways of supporting invalid +aunts," remarked Mrs. Futvoye. "What is this young lady's name?" + +"Tinkler," said Horace, on the spur of the moment. "Miss Clementine +Tinkler." + +"But surely she is a foreigner?" + +"Mademoiselle, I ought to have said. And Tinkla--with an 'a,' you know. +I believe her mother was of Arabian extraction--but I really don't +know," explained Horace, conscious that Sylvia had withdrawn her hand +from his, and was regarding him with covert anxiety. + +"I really _must_ put a stop to this," he thought. + +"You're getting bored by all this, darling," he said aloud; "so am I. +I'll tell them to go." And he rose and held out his hand as a sign that +the dance should cease. + +It ceased at once; but, to his unspeakable horror, the dancer crossed +the floor with a swift jingling rush, and sank in a gauzy heap at his +feet, seizing his hand in both hers and covering it with kisses, while +she murmured speeches in some tongue unknown to him. + +"Is this a usual feature in Miss Tinkla's entertainments, may I ask?" +said Mrs. Futvoye, bristling with not unnatural indignation. + +"I really don't know," said the unhappy Horace; "I can't make out what +she's saying." + +"If I understand her rightly," said the Professor, "she is addressing +you as the 'light of her eyes and the vital spirit of her heart.'" + +"Oh!" said Horace, "she's quite mistaken, you know. It--it's the +emotional artist temperament--they don't _mean_ anything by it. My--my +dear young lady," he added, "you've danced most delightfully, and I'm +sure we're all most deeply indebted to you; but we won't detain you any +longer. Professor," he added, as she made no offer to rise, "_will_ you +kindly explain to them in Arabic that I should be obliged by their going +at once?" + +The Professor said a few words, which had the desired effect. The girl +gave a little scream and scudded through the archway, and the musicians +seized their instruments and scuttled after her. + +"I am so sorry," said Horace, whose evening seemed to him to have been +chiefly spent in apologies; "it's not at all the kind of entertainment +one would expect from a place like Whiteley's." + +"By no means," agreed the Professor; "but I understood you to say Miss +Tinkla was recommended to you by Harrod's?" + +"Very likely, sir," said Horace; "but that doesn't affect the case. I +shouldn't expect it from _them_." + +"Probably they don't know how shamelessly that young person conducts +herself," said Mrs. Futvoye. "And I think it only right that they should +be told." + +"I shall complain, of course," said Horace. "I shall put it very +strongly." + +"A protest would have more weight coming from a woman," said Mrs. +Futvoye; "and, as a shareholder in the company, I shall feel bound----" + +"No, I wouldn't," said Horace; "in fact, you mustn't. For, now I come to +think of it, she didn't come from Harrod's, after all, or Whiteley's +either." + +"Then perhaps you will be good enough to inform us where she _did_ come +from?" + +"I would if I knew," said Horace; "but I don't." + +"What!" cried the Professor, sharply, "do you mean to say you can't +account for the existence of a dancing-girl who--in my daughter's +presence--kisses your hand and addresses you by endearing epithets?" + +"Oriental metaphor!" said Horace. "She was a little overstrung. Of +course, if I had had any idea she would make such a scene as that---- +Sylvia," he broke off, "_you_ don't doubt me?" + +"No, Horace," said Sylvia, simply, "I'm sure you must have _some_ +explanation--only I do think it would be better if you gave it." + +"If I _told_ you the truth," said Horace, slowly, "you would none of you +believe me!" + +"Then you admit," put in the Professor, "that hitherto you have _not_ +been telling the truth?" + +"Not as invariably as I could have wished," Horace confessed. + +"So I suspected. Then, unless you can bring yourself to be perfectly +candid, you can hardly wonder at our asking you to consider your +engagement as broken off?" + +"Broken off!" echoed Horace. "Sylvia, you won't give me up! You _know_ I +wouldn't do anything unworthy of you!" + +"I'm certain that you can't have done anything which would make me love +you one bit the less if I knew it. So why not be quite open with us?" + +"Because, darling," said Horace, "I'm in such a fix that it would only +make matters worse." + +"In that case," said the Professor, "and as it is already rather late, +perhaps you will allow one of your numerous retinue to call a +four-wheeler?" + +Horace clapped his hands, but no one answered the summons, and he could +not find any of the slaves in the antechamber. + +"I'm afraid all the servants have left," he explained; and it is to be +feared he would have added that they were all obliged to return to the +contractor by eleven, only he caught the Professor's eye and decided +that he had better refrain. "If you will wait here, I'll go out and +fetch a cab," he added. + +"There is no occasion to trouble you," said the Professor; "my wife and +daughter have already got their things on, and we will walk until we +find a cab. Now, Mr. Ventimore, we will bid you good-night and good-bye. +For, after what has happened, you will, I trust, have the good taste to +discontinue your visits and make no attempt to see Sylvia again." + +"Upon my honour," protested Horace, "I have done nothing to warrant you +in shutting your doors against me." + +"I am unable to agree with you. I have never thoroughly approved of your +engagement, because, as I told you at the time, I suspected you of +recklessness in money matters. Even in accepting your invitation +to-night I warned you, as you may remember, not to make the occasion an +excuse for foolish extravagance. I come here, and find you in apartments +furnished and decorated (as you informed us) by yourself, and on a scale +which would be prodigal in a millionaire. You have a suite of retainers +which (except for their nationality and imperfect discipline) a prince +might envy. You provide a banquet of--hem!--delicacies which must have +cost you infinite trouble and unlimited expense--this, after I had +expressly stipulated for a quiet family dinner! Not content with that, +you procure for our diversion Arab music and dancing of a--of a highly +recondite character. I should be unworthy of the name of father, sir, +if I were to entrust my only daughter's happiness to a young man with so +little common sense, so little self-restraint. And she will understand +my motives and obey my wishes." + +"You're right, Professor, according to your lights," admitted Horace. +"And yet--confound it all!--you're utterly wrong, too!" + +"Oh, Horace," cried Sylvia; "if you had only listened to dad, and not +gone to all this foolish, foolish expense, we might have been so happy!" + +"But I have gone to no expense. All this hasn't cost me a penny!" + +"Ah, there _is_ some mystery! Horace, if you love me, you will +explain--here, now, before it's too late!" + +"My darling," groaned Horace, "I would, like a shot, if I thought it +would be of the least use!" + +"Hitherto," said the Professor, "you cannot be said to have been happy +in your explanations--and I should advise you not to venture on any +more. Good-night, once more. I only wish it were possible, without +needless irony, to make the customary acknowledgments for a pleasant +evening." + +Mrs. Futvoye had already hurried her daughter away, and, though she had +left her husband to express his sentiments unaided, she made it +sufficiently clear that she entirely agreed with them. + +Horace stood in the outer hall by the fountain, in which his drowned +chrysanthemums were still floating, and gazed in stupefied despair after +his guests as they went down the path to the gate. He knew only too well +that they would never cross his threshold, nor he theirs, again. + +Suddenly he came to himself with a start. "I'll try it!" he cried. "I +can't and won't stand this!" And he rushed after them bareheaded. + +"Professor!" he said breathlessly, as he caught him up, "one moment. On +second thoughts, I _will_ tell you my secret, if you will promise me a +patient hearing." + +"The pavement is hardly the place for confidences," replied the +Professor, "and, if it were, your costume is calculated to attract more +remark than is desirable. My wife and daughter have gone on--if you will +permit me, I will overtake them--I shall be at home to-morrow morning, +should you wish to see me." + +"No--to-night, to-night!" urged Horace. "I can't sleep in that infernal +place with this on my mind. Put Mrs. Futvoye and Sylvia into a cab, +Professor, and come back. It's not late, and I won't keep you long--but +for Heaven's sake, let me tell you my story at once." + +Probably the Professor was not without some curiosity on the subject; at +all events he yielded. "Very well," he said, "go into the house and I +will rejoin you presently. Only remember," he added, "that I shall +accept no statement without the fullest proof. Otherwise you will merely +be wasting your time and mine." + +"Proof!" thought Horace, gloomily, as he returned to his Arabian halls, +"The only decent proof I could produce would be old Fakrash, and he's +not likely to turn up again--especially now I want him." + +A little later the Professor returned, having found a cab and despatched +his women-folk home. "Now, young man," he said, as he unwound his +wrapper and seated himself on the divan by Horace's side, "I can give +you just ten minutes to tell your story in, so let me beg you to make it +as brief and as comprehensible as you can." + +It was not exactly an encouraging invitation in the circumstances, but +Horace took his courage in both hands and told him everything, just as +it had happened. + +"And that's your story?" said the Professor, after listening to the +narrative with the utmost attention, when Horace came to the end. + +"That's my story, sir," said Horace. "And I hope it has altered your +opinion of me." + +"It has," replied the Professor, in an altered tone; "it has indeed. +Yours is a sad case--a very sad case." + +"It's rather awkward, isn't it? But I don't mind so long as you +understand. And you'll tell Sylvia--as much as you think proper?" + +"Yes--yes; I must tell Sylvia." + +"And I may go on seeing her as usual?" + +"Well--will you be guided by my advice--the advice of one who has lived +more than double your years?" + +"Certainly," said Horace. + +"Then, if I were you, I should go away at once, for a complete change of +air and scene." + +"That's impossible, sir--you forget my work!" + +"Never mind your work, my boy: leave it for a while, try a sea-voyage, +go round the world, get quite away from these associations." + +"But I might come across the Jinnee again," objected Horace; "_he's_ +travelling, as I told you." + +"Yes, yes, to be sure. Still, I should go away. Consult any doctor, and +he'll tell you the same thing." + +"Consult any---- Good God!" cried Horace; "I see what it is--you think +I'm mad!" + +"No, no, my dear boy," said the Professor, soothingly, "not mad--nothing +of the sort; perhaps your mental equilibrium is just a trifle--it's +quite intelligible. You see, the sudden turn in your professional +prospects, coupled with your engagement to Sylvia--I've known stronger +minds than yours thrown off their balance--temporarily, of course, quite +temporarily--by less than that." + +"You believe I am suffering from delusions?" + +"I don't say that. I think you may see ordinary things in a distorted +light." + +"Anyhow, you don't believe there really was a Jinnee inside that +bottle?" + +"Remember, you yourself assured me at the time you opened it that you +found nothing whatever inside it. Isn't it more credible that you were +right then than that you should be right now?" + +"Well," said Horace, "you saw all those black slaves; you ate, or tried +to eat, that unutterably beastly banquet; you heard that music--and then +there was the dancing-girl. And this hall we're in, this robe I've got +on--are _they_ delusions? Because if they are, I'm afraid you will have +to admit that _you're_ mad too." + +"Ingeniously put," said the Professor. "I fear it is unwise to argue +with you. Still, I will venture to assert that a strong imagination like +yours, over-heated and saturated with Oriental ideas--to which I fear I +may have contributed--is not incapable of unconsciously assisting in its +own deception. In other words, I think that you may have provided all +this yourself from various quarters without any clear recollection of +the fact." + +"That's very scientific and satisfactory as far as it goes, my dear +Professor," said Horace; "but there's one piece of evidence which may +upset your theory--and that's this brass bottle." + +"If your reasoning powers were in their normal condition," said the +Professor, compassionately, "you would see that the mere production of +an empty bottle can be no proof of what it contained--or, for that +matter, that it ever contained anything at all!" + +"Oh, I see _that_," said Horace; "but _this_ bottle has a stopper with +what you yourself admit to be an inscription of some sort. Suppose that +inscription confirms my story--what then? All I ask you to do is to make +it out for yourself before you decide that I'm either a liar or a +lunatic." + +"I warn you," said the Professor, "that if you are trusting to my being +unable to decipher the inscription, you are deceiving yourself. You +represent that this bottle belongs to the period of Solomon--that is, +about a thousand years B.C. Probably you are not aware that the earliest +specimens of Oriental metal-work in existence are not older than the +tenth century of our era. But, granting that it is as old as you allege, +I shall certainly be able to read any inscription there may be on it. I +have made out clay tablets in Cuneiform which were certainly written a +thousand years before Solomon's time." + +"So much the better," said Horace. "I'm as certain as I can be that, +whatever is written on that lid--whether it's Phoenician, or Cuneiform, +or anything else--must have some reference to a Jinnee confined in the +bottle, or at least bear the seal of Solomon. But there the thing +is--examine it for yourself." + +"Not now," said the Professor; "it's too late, and the light here is not +strong enough. But I'll tell you what I will do. I'll take this stopper +thing home with me, and examine it carefully to-morrow--on one +condition." + +"You have only to name it," said Horace. + +"My condition is, that if I, and one or two other Orientalists to whom I +may submit it, come to the conclusion that there is no real inscription +at all--or, if any, that a date and meaning must be assigned to it +totally inconsistent with your story--you will accept our finding and +acknowledge that you have been under a delusion, and dismiss the whole +affair from your mind." + +"Oh, I don't mind agreeing to _that_," said Horace, "particularly as +it's my only chance." + +"Very well, then," said the Professor, as he removed the metal cap and +put it in his pocket; "you may depend upon hearing from me in a day or +two. Meantime, my boy," he continued, almost affectionately, "why not +try a short bicycle tour somewhere, hey? You're a cyclist, I +know--anything but allow yourself to dwell on Oriental subjects." + +"It's not so easy to avoid dwelling on them as you think!" said Horace, +with rather a dreary laugh. "And I fancy, Professor, that--whether you +like it or not--you'll have to believe in that Jinnee of mine sooner or +later." + +"I can scarcely conceive," replied the Professor, who was by this time +at the outer door, "any degree of evidence which could succeed in +convincing me that your brass bottle had ever contained an Arabian +Jinnee. However, I shall endeavour to preserve an open mind on the +subject. Good evening to you." + +As soon as he was alone, Horace paced up and down his deserted halls in +a state of simmering rage as he thought how eagerly he had looked +forward to his little dinner-party; how intimate and delightful it might +have been, and what a monstrous and prolonged nightmare it had actually +proved. And at the end of it there he was--in a fantastic, impossible +dwelling, deserted by every one, his chances of setting himself right +with Sylvia hanging on the slenderest thread; unknown difficulties and +complications threatening him from every side! + +He owed all this to Fakrash. Yes, that incorrigibly grateful Jinnee, +with his antiquated notions and his high-flown professions, had +contrived to ruin him more disastrously than if he had been his +bitterest foe! Ah! if he could be face to face with him once more--if +only for five minutes--he would be restrained by no false delicacy: he +would tell him fairly and plainly what a meddling, blundering old fool +he was. But Fakrash had taken his flight for ever: there were no means +of calling him back--nothing to be done now but go to bed and sleep--if +he could! + +Exasperated by the sense of his utter helplessness, Ventimore went to +the arch which led to his bed-chamber and drew the curtain back with a +furious pull. And just within the archway, standing erect with folded +arms and the smile of fatuous benignity which Ventimore was beginning to +know and dread, was the form of Fakrash-el-Aamash, the Jinnee! + + + + +CHAPTER X + +NO PLACE LIKE HOME! + + +"May thy head long survive!" said Fakrash, by way of salutation, as he +stepped through the archway. + +"You're very good," said Horace, whose anger had almost evaporated in +the relief of the Jinnee's unexpected return, "but I don't think any +head can survive this sort of thing long." + +"Art thou content with this dwelling I have provided for thee?" inquired +the Jinnee, glancing around the stately hall with perceptible +complacency. + +It would have been positively brutal to say how very far from contented +he felt, so Horace could only mumble that he had never been lodged like +that before in all his life. + +"It is far below thy deserts," Fakrash observed graciously. "And were +thy friends amazed at the manner of their entertainment?" + +"They were," said Horace. + +"A sure method of preserving friends is to feast them with liberality," +remarked the Jinnee. + +This was rather more than Horace's temper could stand. "You were kind +enough to provide my friends with such a feast," he said, "that they'll +never come _here_ again." + +"How so? Were not the meats choice and abounding in fatness? Was not the +wine sweet, and the sherbet like unto perfumed snow?" + +"Oh, everything was--er--as nice as possible," said Horace. "Couldn't +have been better." + +"Yet thou sayest that thy friends will return no more--for what reason?" + +"Well, you see," explained Horace, reluctantly, "there's such a thing +as doing people _too_ well. I mean, it isn't everybody that appreciates +Arabian cooking. But they might have stood that. It was the dancing-girl +that did for me." + +"I commanded that a houri, lovelier than the full moon, and graceful as +a young gazelle, should appear for the delight of thy guests." + +"She came," said Horace, gloomily. + +"Acquaint me with that which hath occurred--for I perceive plainly that +something hath fallen out contrary to thy desires." + +"Well," said Horace, "if it had been a bachelor party, there would have +been no harm in the houri; but, as it happened, two of my guests were +ladies, and they--well, they not unnaturally put a wrong construction on +it all." + +"Verily," exclaimed the Jinnee, "thy words are totally incomprehensible +to me." + +"I don't know what the custom may be in Arabia," said Horace, "but with +us it is not usual for a man to engage a houri to dance after dinner to +amuse the lady he is proposing to marry. It's the kind of attention +she'd be most unlikely to appreciate. + +"Then was one of thy guests the damsel whom thou art seeking to marry?" + +"She was," said Horace, "and the other two were her father and mother. +From which you may imagine that it was not altogether agreeable for me +when your gazelle threw herself at my feet and hugged my knees and +declared that I was the light of her eyes. Of course, it all meant +nothing--it's probably the conventional behaviour for a gazelle, and I'm +not reflecting upon her in the least. But, in the circumstances, it +_was_ compromising." + +"I thought," said Fakrash, "that thou assuredst me that thou wast not +contracted to any damsel?" + +"I think I only said that there was no one whom I would trouble you to +procure as a wife for me," replied Horace; "I certainly was +engaged--though, after this evening, my engagement is at an end--unless +... that reminds me, do you happen to know whether there really _was_ an +inscription on the seal of your bottle, and what it said?" + +"I know naught of any inscription," said the Jinnee; "bring me the seal +that I may see it." + +"I haven't got it by me at this moment," said Horace; "I lent it to my +friend--the father of this young lady I told you of. You see, Mr. +Fakrash, you got me into--I mean, I was in such a hole over this affair +that I was obliged to make a clean breast of it to him. And he wouldn't +believe it, so it struck me that there might be an inscription of some +sort on the seal, saying who you were, and why Solomon had you confined +in the bottle. Then the Professor would be obliged to admit that there's +something in my story." + +"Truly, I wonder at thee and at the smallness of thy penetration," the +Jinnee commented; "for if there were indeed any writing upon this seal, +it is not possible that one of thy race should be able to decipher it." + +"Oh, I beg your pardon," said Horace; "Professor Futvoye is an Oriental +scholar; he can make out any inscription, no matter how many thousands +of years old it may be. If anything's there, he'll decipher it. The +question is whether anything _is_ there." + +The effect of this speech on Fakrash was as unexpected as it was +inexplicable: the Jinnee's features, usually so mild, began to work +convulsively until they became terrible to look at, and suddenly, with a +fierce howl, he shot up to nearly double his ordinary stature. + +"O thou of little sense and breeding!" he cried, in a loud voice; "how +camest thou to deliver the bottle in which I was confined into the hands +of this learned man?" + +Ventimore, startled as he was, did not lose his self-possession. "My +dear sir," he said, "I did not suppose you could have any further use +for it. And, as a matter of fact, I didn't give Professor Futvoye the +bottle--which is over there in the corner--but merely the stopper. I +wish you wouldn't tower over me like that--it gives me a crick in the +neck to talk to you. Why on earth should you make such a fuss about my +lending the seal; what possible difference can it make to you even if it +does confirm my story? And it's of immense importance to _me_ that the +Professor should believe I told the truth." + +"I spoke in haste," said the Jinnee, slowly resuming his normal size, +and looking slightly ashamed of his recent outburst as well as +uncommonly foolish. "The bottle truly is of no value; and as for the +stopper, since it is but lent, it is no great matter. If there be any +legend upon the seal, perchance this learned man of whom thou speakest +will by this time have deciphered it?" + +"No," said Horace, "he won't tackle it till to-morrow. And it's as +likely as not that when he does he won't find any reference to +_you_--and I shall be up a taller tree than ever!" + +"Art thou so desirous that he should receive proof that thy story is +true?" + +"Why, of course I am! Haven't I been saying so all this time?" + +"Who can satisfy him so surely as I?" + +"You!" cried Horace. "Do you mean to say you really would? Mr. Fakrash, +you _are_ an old brick! That would be the very thing!" + +"There is naught," said the Jinnee, smiling indulgently, "that I would +not do to promote thy welfare, for thou hast rendered me inestimable +service. Acquaint me therefore with the abode of this sage, and I will +present myself before him, and if haply he should find no inscription +upon the seal, or its purport should be hidden from him, then will I +convince him that thou hast spoken the truth and no lie." + +Horace very willingly gave him the Professor's address. "Only don't +drop in on him to-night, you know," he thought it prudent to add, "or +you might startle him. Call any time after breakfast to-morrow, and +you'll find him in." + +"To-night," said Fakrash, "I return to pursue my search after Suleyman +(on whom be peace!). For not yet have I found him." + +"If you _will_ try to do so many things at once," said Horace, "I don't +see how you can expect much result." + +"At Nineveh they knew him not--for where I left a city I found but a +heap of ruins, tenanted by owls and bats." + +"_They say the lion and the lizard keep the Courts_----" murmured +Horace, half to himself. "I was afraid you might be disappointed with +Nineveh myself. Why not run over to Sheba? You might hear of him there." + +"Seba of El-Yemen--the country of Bilkees, the Queen beloved of +Suleyman," said the Jinnee. "It is an excellent suggestion, and I will +follow it without delay." + +"But you won't forget to look in on Professor Futvoye to-morrow, will +you?" + +"Assuredly I will not. And now, ere I depart, tell me if there be any +other service I may render thee." + +Horace hesitated. "There _is_ just one," he said, "only I'm afraid +you'll be offended if I mention it." + +"On the head and the eye be thy commands!" said the Jinnee; "for +whatsoever thou desirest shall be accomplished, provided that it lie +within my power to perform it." + +"Well," said Horace, "if you're sure you don't mind, I'll tell you. +You've transformed this house into a wonderful place, more like the +Alhambra--I don't mean the one in Leicester Square--than a London +lodging-house. But then I am only a lodger here, and the people the +house belongs to--excellent people in their way--would very much rather +have the house as it was. They have a sort of idea that they won't be +able to let these rooms as easily as the others." + +"Base and sordid dogs!" said the Jinnee, with contempt. + +"Possibly," said Horace, "it's narrow-minded of them--but that's the way +they look at it. They've actually left rather than stay here. And it's +_their_ house--not mine." + +"If they abandon this dwelling, thou wilt remain in the more secure +possession." + +"Oh, _shall_ I, though? They'll go to law and have me turned out, and I +shall have to pay ruinous damages into the bargain. So, you see, what +you intended as a kindness will only bring me bad luck." + +"Come--without more words--to the statement of thy request," said +Fakrash, "for I am in haste." + +"All I want you to do," replied Horace, in some anxiety as to what the +effect of his request would be, "is to put everything here back to what +it was before. It won't take you a minute." + +"Of a truth," exclaimed Fakrash, "to bestow a favour upon thee is but a +thankless undertaking, for not once, but twice, hast thou rejected my +benefits--and now, behold, I am at a loss to devise means to gratify +thee!" + +"I know I've abused your good nature," said Horace; "but if you'll only +do this, and then convince the Professor that my story is true, I shall +be more than satisfied. I'll never ask another favour of you!" + +"My benevolence towards thee hath no bounds--as thou shalt see; and I +can deny thee nothing, for truly thou art a worthy and temperate young +man. Farewell, then, and be it according to thy desire." + +He raised his arms above his head, and shot up like a rocket towards the +lofty dome, which split asunder to let him pass. Horace, as he gazed +after him, had a momentary glimpse of deep blue sky, with a star or two +that seemed to be hurrying through the transparent opal scud, before +the roof closed in once more. + +Then came a low, rumbling sound, with a shock like a mild earthquake: +the slender pillars swayed under their horseshoe arches; the big +hanging-lanterns went out; the walls narrowed, and the floor heaved and +rose--till Ventimore found himself up in his own familiar sitting-room +once more, in the dark. Outside he could see the great square still +shrouded in grey haze--the street lamps flickering in the wind; a +belated reveller was beguiling his homeward way by rattling his stick +against the railings as he passed. + +Inside the room everything was exactly as before, and Horace found it +difficult to believe that a few minutes earlier he had been standing on +that same site, but twenty feet or so below his present level, in a +spacious blue-tiled hall, with a domed ceiling and gaudy pillared +arches. + +But he was very far from regretting his short-lived splendour; he burnt +with shame and resentment whenever he thought of that nightmare banquet, +which was so unlike the quiet, unpretentious little dinner he had looked +forward to. + +However, it was over now, and it was useless to worry himself about what +could not be helped. Besides, fortunately, there was no great harm done; +the Jinnee had been brought to see his mistake, and, to do him justice, +had shown himself willing enough to put it right. He had promised to go +and see the Professor next day, and the result of the interview could +not fail to be satisfactory. And after this, Ventimore thought, Fakrash +would have the sense and good feeling not to interfere in his affairs +again. + +Meanwhile he could sleep now with a mind free from his worst anxieties, +and he went to his room in a spirit of intense thankfulness that he had +a Christian bed to sleep in. He took off his gorgeous robes--the only +things that remained to prove to him that the events of that evening had +been no delusion--and locked them in his wardrobe with a sense of +relief that he would never be required to wear them again, and his last +conscious thought before he fell asleep was the comforting reflection +that, if there were any barrier between Sylvia and himself, it would be +removed in the course of a very few more hours. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A FOOL'S PARADISE + + +Ventimore found next morning that his bath and shaving-water had been +brought up, from which he inferred, quite correctly, that his landlady +must have returned. + +Secretly he was by no means looking forward to his next interview with +her, but she appeared with his bacon and coffee in a spirit so evidently +chastened that he saw that he would have no difficulty so far as she was +concerned. + +"I'm sure, Mr. Ventimore, sir," she began, apologetically, "I don't know +what you must have thought of me and Rapkin last night, leaving the +house like we did!" + +"It was extremely inconvenient," said Horace, "and not at all what I +should have expected from you. But possibly you had some reason for it?" + +"Why, sir," said Mrs. Rapkin, running her hand nervously along the back +of a chair, "the fact is, something come over me, and come over Rapkin, +as we couldn't stop here another minute not if it was ever so." + +"Ah!" said Horace, raising his eyebrows, "restlessness--eh, Mrs. Rapkin? +Awkward that it should come on just then, though, wasn't it?" + +"It was the look of the place, somehow," said Mrs. Rapkin. "If you'll +believe me, sir, it was all changed like--nothing in it the same from +top to bottom!" + +"Really?" said Horace. "I don't notice any difference myself." + +"No more don't I, sir, not by daylight; but last night it was all domes +and harches and marble fountings let into the floor, with parties +moving about downstairs all silent and as black as your hat--which +Rapkin saw them as well as what I did." + +"From the state your husband was in last night," said Horace, "I should +say he was capable of seeing anything--and double of most things." + +"I won't deny, sir, that Rapkin mayn't have been quite hisself, as a +very little upsets him after he's spent an afternoon studying the papers +and what-not at the libery. But I see the niggers too, Mr. Ventimore, +and no one can say _I_ ever take more than is good for me." + +"I don't suggest that for a moment, Mrs. Rapkin," said Horace; "only, if +the house was as you describe last night, how do you account for its +being all right this morning?" + +Mrs. Rapkin in her embarrassment was reduced to folding her apron into +small pleats. "It's not for me to say, sir," she replied, "but, if I was +to give my opinion, it would be as them parties as called 'ere on camels +the other day was at the bottom of it." + +"I shouldn't wonder if you were right, Mrs. Rapkin," said Horace +blandly; "you see, you had been exerting yourself over the cooking, and +no doubt were in an over-excited state, and, as you say, those camels +had taken hold of your imagination until you were ready to see anything +that Rapkin saw, and _he_ was ready to see anything _you_ did. It's not +at all uncommon. Scientific people, I believe, call it 'Collective +Hallucination.'" + +"Law, sir!" said the good woman, considerably impressed by this +diagnosis, "you don't mean to say I had _that_? I was always fanciful +from a girl, and could see things in coffee-grounds as nobody else +could--but I never was took like that before. And to think of me leaving +my dinner half cooked, and you expecting your young lady and her pa and +ma! Well, _there_, now, I _am_ sorry. Whatever did you do, sir?" + +"We managed to get food of sorts from somewhere," said Horace, "but it +was most uncomfortable for me, and I trust, Mrs. Rapkin--I sincerely +trust that it will not occur again." + +"That I'll answer for it shan't, sir. And you won't take no notice to +Rapkin, sir, will you? Though it was his seein' the niggers and that as +put it into my 'ed; but I 'ave spoke to him pretty severe already, and +he's truly sorry and ashamed for forgetting hisself as he did." + +"Very well, Mrs. Rapkin," said Horace; "we will understand that last +night's--hem--rather painful experience is not to be alluded to +again--on either side." + +He felt sincerely thankful to have got out of it so easily, for it was +impossible to say what gossip might not have been set on foot if the +Rapkins had not been brought to see the advisability of reticence on the +subject. + +"There's one more thing, sir, I wished for to speak to you about," said +Mrs. Rapkin; "that great brass vawse as you bought at an oction some +time back. I dunno if you remember it?" + +"I remember it," said Horace. "Well, what about it?" + +"Why, sir, I found it in the coal-cellar this morning, and I thought I'd +ask if that was where you wished it kep' in future. For, though no +amount o' polish could make it what I call a tasty thing, it's neither +horniment nor yet useful where it is at present." + +"Oh," said Horace, rather relieved, for he had an ill-defined dread from +her opening words that the bottle might have been misbehaving itself in +some way. "Put it wherever you please, Mrs. Rapkin; do whatever you like +with it--so long as I don't see the thing again!" + +"Very good, sir; I on'y thought I'd ask the question," said Mrs. Rapkin, +as she closed the door upon herself. + +Altogether, Horace walked to Great Cloister Street that morning in a +fairly cheerful mood and amiably disposed, even towards the Jinnee. With +all his many faults, he was a thoroughly good-natured old devil--very +superior in every way to the one the Arabian Nights fisherman found in +_his_ bottle. + +"Ninety-nine Jinn out of a hundred," thought Horace, "would have turned +nasty on finding benefit after benefit 'declined with thanks.' But one +good point in Fakrash is that he _does_ take a hint in good part, and, +as soon as he can be made to see where he's wrong, he's always ready to +set things right. And he thoroughly understands now that these Oriental +dodges of his won't do nowadays, and that when people see a penniless +man suddenly wallowing in riches they naturally want to know how he came +by them. I don't suppose he will trouble me much in future. If he should +look in now and then, I must put up with it. Perhaps, if I suggested it, +he wouldn't mind coming in some form that would look less outlandish. If +he would get himself up as a banker, or a bishop--the Bishop of Bagdad, +say--I shouldn't care how often he called. Only, I can't have him coming +down the chimney in either capacity. But he'll see that himself. And +he's done me one real service--I mustn't let myself forget that. He sent +me old Wackerbath. By the way, I wonder if he's seen my designs yet, and +what he thinks of them." + +He was at his table, engaged in jotting down some rough ideas for the +decoration of the reception-rooms in the projected house, when Beevor +came in. + +"I've got nothing doing just now," he said; "so I thought I'd come in +and have a squint at those plans of yours, if they're forward enough to +be seen yet." + +Ventimore had to explain that even the imperfect method of examination +proposed was not possible, as he had despatched the drawings to his +client the night before. + +"Phew!" said Beevor; "that's sharp work, isn't it?" + +"I don't know. I've been sticking hard at it for over a fortnight." + +"Well, you might have given me a chance of seeing what you've made of +it. I let you see all _my_ work!" + +"To tell you the honest truth, old fellow, I wasn't at all sure you'd +like it, and I was afraid you'd put me out of conceit with what I'd +done, and Wackerbath was in a frantic hurry to have the plans--so there +it was." + +"And do you think he'll be satisfied with them?" + +"He ought to be. I don't like to be cock-sure, but I believe--I really +do believe--that I've given him rather more than he expected. It's going +to be a devilish good house, though I say it myself." + +"Something new-fangled and fantastic, eh? Well, he mayn't care about it, +you know. When you've had my experience, you'll realise that a client is +a rum bird to satisfy." + +"I shall satisfy _my_ old bird," said Horace, gaily. "He'll have a cage +he can hop about in to his heart's content." + +"You're a clever chap enough," said Beevor; "but to carry a big job like +this through you want one thing--and that's ballast." + +"Not while you heave yours at my head! Come, old fellow, you aren't +really riled because I sent off those plans without showing them to you? +I shall soon have them back, and then you can pitch into 'em as much as +you please. Seriously, though, I shall want all the help you can spare +when I come to the completed designs." + +"'Um," said Beevor, "you've got along very well alone so far--at least, +by your own account; so I dare say you'll be able to manage without me +to the end. Only, you know," he added, as he left the room, "you haven't +won your spurs yet. A fellow isn't necessarily a Gilbert Scott, or a +Norman Shaw, or a Waterhouse just because he happens to get a +sixty-thousand pound job the first go off!" + +"Poor old Beevor!" thought Horace, repentantly, "I've put his back up. +I might just as well have shown him the plans, after all; it wouldn't +have hurt me and it would have pleased _him_. Never mind, I'll make my +peace with him after lunch. I'll ask him to give me his idea for a--no, +hang it all, even friendship has its limits!" + +He returned from lunch to hear what sounded like an altercation of some +sort in his office, in which, as he neared his door, Beevor's voice was +distinctly audible. + +"My dear sir," he was saying, "I have already told you that it is no +affair of mine." + +"But I ask you, sir, as a brother architect," said another voice, +"whether you consider it professional or reasonable----?" + +"As a brother architect," replied Beevor, as Ventimore opened the door, +"I would rather be excused from giving an opinion.... Ah, here is Mr. +Ventimore himself." + +Horace entered, to find himself confronted by Mr. Wackerbath, whose face +was purple and whose white whiskers were bristling with rage. "So, sir!" +he began. "So, sir!----" and choked ignominiously. + +"There appears to have been some misunderstanding, my dear Ventimore," +explained Beevor, with a studious correctness which was only a shade +less offensive than open triumph. "I think I'd better leave you and this +gentleman to talk it over quietly." + +"Quietly?" exclaimed Mr. Wackerbath, with an apoplectic snort; +"_quietly!!_" + +"I've no idea what you are so excited about, sir," said Horace. "Perhaps +you will explain?" + +"Explain!" Mr. Wackerbath gasped; "why--no, if I speak just now, I shall +be ill: _you_ tell him," he added, waving a plump hand in Beevor's +direction. + +"I'm not in possession of all the facts," said Beevor, smoothly; "but, +so far as I can gather, this gentleman thinks that, considering the +importance of the work he intrusted to your hands, you have given less +time to it than he might have expected. As I have told him, that is a +matter which does not concern me, and which he must discuss with you." + +So saying, Beevor retired to his own room, and shut the door with the +same irreproachable discretion, which conveyed that he was not in the +least surprised, but was too much of a gentleman to show it. + +"Well, Mr. Wackerbath," began Horace, when they were alone, "so you're +disappointed with the house?" + +"Disappointed!" said Mr. Wackerbath, furiously. "I am disgusted, sir, +disgusted!" + +Horace's heart sank lower still; had he deceived himself after all, +then? Had he been nothing but a conceited fool, and--most galling +thought of all--had Beevor judged him only too accurately? And yet, no, +he could not believe it--he _knew_ his work was good! + +"This is plain speaking with a vengeance," he said; "I'm sorry you're +dissatisfied. I did my best to carry out your instructions." + +"Oh, you did?" sputtered Mr. Wackerbath. "That's what you call--but go +on, sir, _go_ on!" + +"I got it done as quickly as possible," continued Horace, "because I +understood you wished no time to be lost." + +"No one can accuse you of dawdling over it. What I should like to know +is how the devil you managed to get it done in the time?" + +"I worked incessantly all day and every day," said Horace. "That's how I +managed it--and this is all the thanks I get for it!" + +"Thanks?" Mr. Wackerbath well-nigh howled. "You--you insolent young +charlatan; you expect thanks!" + +"Now look here, Mr. Wackerbath," said Horace, whose own temper was +getting a little frayed. "I'm not accustomed to being treated like this, +and I don't intend to submit to it. Just tell me--in as moderate +language as you can command--what you object to?" + +"I object to the whole damned thing, sir! I mean, I repudiate the entire +concern. It's the work of a raving lunatic--a place that no English +gentleman, sir, with any self-respect or--ah!--consideration for his +reputation and position in the county, could consent to occupy for a +single hour!" + +"Oh," said Horace, feeling deathly sick, "in that case it is useless, of +course, to suggest any modifications." + +"Absolutely!" said Mr. Wackerbath. + +"Very well, then; there's no more to be said," replied Horace. "You will +have no difficulty in finding an architect who will be more successful +in realising your intentions. Mr. Beevor, the gentleman you met just +now," he added, with a touch of bitterness, "would probably be just your +man. Of course I retire altogether. And really, if any one is the +sufferer over this, I fancy it's myself. I can't see how you are any the +worse." + +"Not any the worse?" cried Mr. Wackerbath, "when the infernal place is +built!" + +"Built!" echoed Horace feebly. + +"I tell you, sir, I saw it with my own eyes driving to the station this +morning; my coachman and footman saw it; my wife saw it--damn it, sir, +we _all_ saw it!" + +Then Horace understood. His indefatigable Jinnee had been at work again! +Of course, for Fakrash it must have been what he would term "the easiest +of affairs"--especially after a glance at the plans (and Ventimore +remembered that the Jinnee had surprised him at work upon them, and even +requested to have them explained to him)--to dispense with contractors +and bricklayers and carpenters, and construct the entire building in the +course of a single night. + +It was a generous and spirited action--but, particularly now that the +original designs had been found faulty and rejected, it placed the +unfortunate architect in a most invidious position. + +"Well, sir," said Mr. Wackerbath, with elaborate irony, "I presume it +is you whom I have to thank for improving my land by erecting this +precious palace on it?" + +"I--I----" began Horace, utterly broken down; and then he saw, with +emotions that may be imagined, the Jinnee himself, in his green robes, +standing immediately behind Mr. Wackerbath. + +"Greeting to you," said Fakrash, coming forward with his smile of +amiable cunning. "If I mistake not," he added, addressing the startled +estate agent, who had jumped visibly, "thou art the merchant for whom my +son here," and he laid a hand on Horace's shrinking shoulder, "undertook +to construct a mansion?" + +"I am," said Mr. Wackerbath, in some mystification. "Have I the pleasure +of addressing Mr. Ventimore, senior?" + +"No, no," put in Horace; "no relation. He's a sort of informal partner." + +"Hast thou not found him an architect of divine gifts?" inquired the +Jinnee, beaming with pride. "Is not the palace that he hath raised for +thee by his transcendent accomplishments a marvel of beauty and +stateliness, and one that Sultans might envy?" + +"No, sir!" shouted the infuriated Mr. Wackerbath; "since you ask my +opinion, it's nothing of the sort! It's a ridiculous tom-fool cross +between the palm-house at Kew and the Brighton Pavilion! There's no +billiard-room, and not a decent bedroom in the house. I've been all over +it, so I ought to know; and as for drainage, there isn't a sign of it. +And he has the brass--ah, I should say, the unblushing effrontery--to +call that a country house!" + +Horace's dismay was curiously shot with relief. The Jinnee, who was +certainly very far from being a genius except by courtesy, had taken it +upon himself to erect the palace according to his own notions of Arabian +domestic luxury--and Horace, taught by bitter experience, could +sympathise to some extent with his unfortunate client. On the other +hand, it was balm to his smarting self-respect to find that it was not +his own plans, after all, which had been found so preposterous; and, by +some obscure mental process, which I do not propose to explain, he +became reconciled, and almost grateful, to the officious Fakrash. And +then, too, he was _his_ Jinnee, and Horace had no intention of letting +him be bullied by an outsider. + +"Let me explain, Mr. Wackerbath," he said. "Personally I've had nothing +to do with this. This gentleman, wishing to spare me the trouble, has +taken upon himself to build your house for you, without consulting +either of us, and, from what I know of his powers in the direction, I've +no doubt that--that it's a devilish fine place, in its way. Anyhow, we +make no charge for it--he presents it to you as a free gift. Why not +accept it as such and make the best of it?" + +"Make the best of it?" stormed Mr. Wackerbath. "Stand by and see the +best site in three counties defaced by a jimcrack Moorish nightmare like +that! Why, they'll call it 'Wackerbath's Folly,' sir. I shall be the +laughing-stock of the neighbourhood. I can't live in the beastly +building. I couldn't afford to keep it up, and I won't have it cumbering +my land. Do you hear? _I won't!_ I'll go to law, cost me what it may, +and compel you and your Arabian friends there to pull the thing down. +I'll take the case up to the House of Lords, if necessary, and fight you +as long as I can stand!" + +"As long as thou canst stand!" repeated Fakrash, gently. "That is a long +time truly, O thou litigious one!... On all fours, ungrateful dog that +thou art!" he cried, with an abrupt and entire change of manner, "and +crawl henceforth for the remainder of thy days. I, Fakrash-el-Aamash, +command thee!" + +It was both painful and grotesque to see the portly and intensely +respectable Mr. Wackerbath suddenly drop forward on his hands while +desperately striving to preserve his dignity. "How dare you, sir?" he +almost barked, "how _dare_ you, I say? Are you aware that I could summon +you for this? Let me up. I _insist_ upon getting up!" + +"O contemptible in aspect!" replied the Jinnee, throwing open the door. +"Begone to thy kennel." + +"I won't! I can't!" whimpered the unhappy man. "How do you expect +me--me!--to cross Westminster Bridge on all fours? What will the +officials think at Waterloo, where I have been known and respected for +years? How am I to face my family in--in this position? Do, for mercy's +sake, let me get up!" + +Horace had been too shocked and startled to speak before, but now +humanity, coupled with disgust for the Jinnee's high-handed methods, +compelled him to interfere. "Mr. Fakrash," he said, "this has gone far +enough. Unless you stop tormenting this unfortunate gentleman, I've done +with you." + +"Never," said Fakrash. "He hath dared to abuse my palace, which is far +too sumptuous a dwelling for such a son of a burnt dog as he. Therefore, +I will make his abode to be in the dust for ever." + +"But I _don't_ find fault," yelped poor Mr. Wackerbath. "You--you +entirely misunderstood the--the few comments I ventured to make. It's a +capital mansion, handsome, and yet 'homey,' too. I'll never say another +word against it. I'll--yes, I'll _live_ in it--if only you'll let me +up?" + +"Do as he asks you," said Horace to the Jinnee, "or I swear I'll never +speak to you again." + +"Thou art the arbiter of this matter," was the reply. "And if I yield, +it is at thy intercession, and not his. Rise then," he said to the +humiliated client; "depart, and show us the breadth of thy shoulders." + +It was this precise moment which Beevor, who was probably unable to +restrain his curiosity any longer, chose to re-enter the room. "Oh, +Ventimore," he began, "did I leave my----?... I beg your pardon. I +thought you were alone again." + +"Don't go, sir," said Mr. Wackerbath, as he scrambled awkwardly to his +feet, his usually florid face mottled in grey and lilac. "I--I should +like you to know that, after talking things quietly over with your +friend Mr. Ventimore and his partner here, I am thoroughly convinced +that my objections were quite untenable. I retract all I said. +The house is--ah--admirably planned: _most_ convenient, roomy, +and--ah--unconventional. The--the entire freedom from all sanitary +appliances is a particular recommendation. In short, I am more than +satisfied. Pray forget anything I may have said which might be taken to +imply the contrary.... Gentlemen, good afternoon!" + +He bowed himself past the Jinnee in a state of deference and +apprehension, and was heard stumbling down the staircase. Horace hardly +dared to meet Beevor's eyes, which were fixed upon the green-turbaned +Jinnee, as he stood apart in dreamy abstraction, smiling placidly to +himself. + +"I say," Beevor said to Horace, at last, in an undertone, "you never +told me you had gone into partnership." + +"He's not a regular partner," whispered Ventimore; "he does odd things +for me occasionally, that's all." + +"He soon managed to smooth your client down," remarked Beevor. + +"Yes," said Horace; "he's an Oriental, you see, and, he has a--a very +persuasive manner. Would you like to be introduced?" + +"If it's all the same to you," replied Beevor, still below his voice, +"I'd rather be excused. To tell you the truth, old fellow, I don't +altogether fancy the looks of him, and it's my opinion," he added, "that +the less you have to do with him the better. He strikes me as a +wrong'un, old man." + +"No, no," said Horace; "eccentric, that's all--you don't understand +him." + +"Receive news!" began the Jinnee, after Beevor, with suspicion and +disapproval evident even on his back and shoulders, had retreated to +his own room, "Suleyman, the son of Daood, sleeps with his fathers." + +"I know," retorted Horace, whose nerves were unequal to much reference +to Solomon just then. "So does Queen Anne." + +"I have not heard of her. But art thou not astounded, then, by my +tidings?" + +"I have matters nearer home to think about," said Horace, dryly. "I must +say, Mr. Fakrash, you have landed me in a pretty mess!" + +"Explain thyself more fully, for I comprehend thee not." + +"Why on earth," Horace groaned, "couldn't you let me build that house my +own way?" + +"Did I not hear thee with my own ears lament thy inability to perform +the task? Thereupon, I determined that no disgrace should fall upon thee +by reason of such incompetence, since I myself would erect a palace so +splendid that it should cause thy name to live for ever. And, behold, it +is done." + +"It is," said Horace. "And so am I. I don't want to reproach you. I +quite feel that you have acted with the best intentions; but, oh, hang +it all! _can't_ you see that you've absolutely wrecked my career as an +architect?" + +"That is a thing that cannot be," returned the Jinnee, "seeing that thou +hast all the credit." + +"The credit! This is England, not Arabia. What credit can I gain from +being supposed to be the architect of an Oriental pavilion, which might +be all very well for Haroun-al-Raschid, but I can assure you is +preposterous as a home for an average Briton?" + +"Yet that overfed hound," remarked the Jinnee, "expressed much +gratification therewith." + +"Naturally, after he had found that he could not give a candid opinion +except on all-fours. A valuable testimonial, that! And how do you +suppose I can take his money? No, Mr. Fakrash, if I have to go on +all-fours myself for it, I must say, and I will say, that you've made a +most frightful muddle of it!" + +"Acquaint me with thy wishes," said Fakrash, a little abashed, "for thou +knowest that I can refuse thee naught." + +"Then," said Horace, boldly, "couldn't you remove that palace--dissipate +it into space or something?" + +"Verily," said the Jinnee, in an aggravated tone, "to do good acts unto +such as thee is but wasted time, for thou givest me no peace till they +are undone!" + +"This is the last time," urged Horace; "I promise never to ask you for +anything again." + +"Not for the first time hast thou made such a promise," said Fakrash. +"And save for the magnitude of thy service unto me, I would not hearken +to this caprice of thine, nor wilt thou find me so indulgent on another +occasion. But for this once"--and he muttered some words and made a +sweeping gesture with his right hand--"thy desire is granted unto thee. +Of the palace and all that is therein there remaineth no trace!" + +"Another surprise for poor old Wackerbath," thought Horace, "but a +pleasant one this time. My dear Mr. Fakrash," he said aloud, "I really +can't say how grateful I am to you. And now--I hate bothering you like +this, but if you _could_ manage to look in on Professor Futvoye----" + +"What!" cried the Jinnee, "yet another request? Already!" + +"Well, you promised you'd do that before, you know!" said Horace. + +"For that matter," remarked Fakrash, "I have already fulfilled my +promise." + +"You have?" Horace exclaimed. "And does he believe now that it's all +true about that bottle?" + +"When I left him," answered the Jinnee, "all his doubts were removed." + +"By Jove, you _are_ a trump!" cried Horace, only too glad to be able to +commend with sincerity. "And do you think, if I went to him now, I +should find him the same as usual?" + +"Nay," said Fakrash, with his weak and yet inscrutable smile, "that is +more than I can promise thee." + +"But why?" asked Horace, "if he knows all?" + +There was the oddest expression in the Jinnee's furtive eyes: a kind of +elfin mischief combined with a sense of wrong-doing, like a naughty +child whose palate is still reminiscent of illicit jam. "Because," he +replied, with a sound between a giggle and a chuckle, "because, in order +to overcome his unbelief, it was necessary to transform him into a +one-eyed mule of hideous appearance." + +"_What!_" cried Horace. But, whether to avoid thanks or explanations, +the Jinnee had disappeared with his customary abruptness. + +"Fakrash!" shouted Horace, "Mr. Fakrash! Come back! Do you hear? I +_must_ speak to you!" There was no answer; the Jinnee might be well on +his way to Lake Chad, or Jericho, by that time--he was certainly far +enough from Great Cloister Street. + +Horace sat down at his drawing-table, and, his head buried in his hands, +tried to think out this latest complication. Fakrash had transformed +Professor Futvoye into a one-eyed mule. It would have seemed incredible, +almost unthinkable, once, but so many impossibilities had happened to +Horace of late that one more made little or no strain upon his +credulity. + +What he felt chiefly was the new barrier that this event must raise +between himself and Sylvia; to do him justice, the mere fact that the +father of his _fiancee_ was a mule did not lessen his ardour in the +slightest. Even if he had felt no personal responsibility for the +calamity, he loved Sylvia far too well to be deterred by it, and few +family cupboards are without a skeleton of some sort. + +With courage and the determination to look only on the bright side of +things, almost any domestic drawback can be lived down. + +But the real point, as he instantly recognised, was whether in the +changed condition of circumstances Sylvia would consent to marry _him_. +Might she not, after the experiences of that abominable dinner of his +the night before, connect him in some way with her poor father's +transformation? She might even suspect him of employing this means of +compelling the Professor to renew their engagement; and, indeed, Horace +was by no means certain himself that the Jinnee might not have acted +from some muddle-headed motive of this kind. It was likely enough that +the Professor, after learning the truth, should have refused to allow +his daughter to marry the _protege_ of so dubious a patron, and that +Fakrash had then resorted to pressure. + +In any case, Ventimore knew Sylvia well enough to feel sure that pride +would steel her heart against him so long as this obstacle remained. + +It would be unseemly to set down here all that Horace said and thought +of the person who had brought all this upon them, but after some wild +and futile raving he became calm enough to recognise that his proper +place was by Sylvia's side. Perhaps he ought to have told her at first, +and then she would have been less unprepared for this--and yet how could +he trouble her mind so long as he could cling to the hope that the +Jinnee would cease to interfere? + +But now he could be silent no longer; naturally the prospect of calling +at Cottesmore Gardens just then was anything but agreeable, but he felt +it would be cowardly to keep away. + +Besides, he could cheer them up; he could bring with him a message of +hope. No doubt they believed that the Professor's transformation would +be permanent--a harrowing prospect for so united a family; but, +fortunately, Horace would be able to reassure them on this point. + +Fakrash had always revoked his previous performances as soon as he could +be brought to understand their fatuity--and Ventimore would take good +care that he revoked this. + +Nevertheless, it was with a sinking heart and an unsteady hand that he +pulled the visitors' bell at the Futvoyes' house that afternoon, for he +neither knew in what state he should find that afflicted family, nor how +they would regard his intrusion at such a time. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE MESSENGER OF HOPE + + +Jessie, the neat and pretty parlour-maid, opened the door with a smile +of welcome which Horace found reassuring. No girl, he thought, whose +master had suddenly been transformed into a mule could possibly smile +like that. The Professor, she told him, was not at home, which again was +comforting. For a _savant_, however careless about his personal +appearance, would scarcely venture to brave public opinion in the +semblance of a quadruped. + +"Is the Professor out?" he inquired, to make sure. + +"Not exactly out, sir," said the maid, "but particularly engaged, +working hard in his study, and not to be disturbed on no account." + +This was encouraging, too, since a mule could hardly engage in literary +labour of any kind. Evidently the Jinnee must either have overrated his +supernatural powers, or else have been deliberately amusing himself at +Horace's expense. + +"Then I will see Miss Futvoye," he said. + +"Miss Sylvia is with the master, sir," said the girl; "but if you'll +come into the drawing-room I'll let Mrs. Futvoye know you are here." + +He had not been in the drawing-room long before Mrs. Futvoye appeared, +and one glance at her face confirmed Ventimore's worst fears. Outwardly +she was calm enough, but it was only too obvious that her calmness was +the result of severe self-repression; her eyes, usually so shrewdly and +placidly observant, had a haggard and hunted look; her ears seemed on +the strain to catch some distant sound. + +"I hardly thought we should see you to-day," she began, in a tone of +studied reserve; "but perhaps you came to offer some explanation of the +extraordinary manner in which you thought fit to entertain us last +night? If so----" + +"The fact is," said Horace, looking into his hat, "I came because I was +rather anxious about the Professor. + +"About my husband?" said the poor lady, with a really heroic effort to +appear surprised. "He is--as well as could be expected. Why should you +suppose otherwise?" she asked, with a flash of suspicion. + +"I fancied perhaps that--that he mightn't be quite himself to-day," said +Horace, with his eyes on the carpet. + +"I see," said Mrs. Futvoye, regaining her composure; "you were afraid +that all those foreign dishes might not have agreed with him. +But--except that he is a little irritable this afternoon--he is much as +usual." + +"I'm delighted to hear it," said Horace, with reviving hope. "Do you +think he would see me for a moment?" + +"Great heavens, no!" cried Mrs. Futvoye, with an irrepressible start; "I +mean," she explained, "that, after what took place last night, +Anthony--my husband--very properly feels that an interview would be too +painful." + +"But when we parted he was perfectly friendly." + +"I can only say," replied the courageous woman, "that you would find him +considerably altered now." + +Horace had no difficulty in believing it. + +"At least, I may see Sylvia?" he pleaded. + +"No," said Mrs. Futvoye; "I really can't have Sylvia disturbed just now. +She is very busy, helping her father. Anthony has to read a paper at one +of his societies to-morrow night, and she is writing it out from his +dictation." + +If any departure from strict truth can ever be excusable, this surely +was one; unfortunately, just then Sylvia herself burst into the room. + +"Mother," she cried, without seeing Horace in her agitation, "do come +to papa, quick! He has just begun kicking again, and I can't manage him +alone.... Oh, _you_ here?" she broke off, as she saw who was in the +room. "Why do you come here now, Horace? Please, _please_ go away! Papa +is rather unwell--nothing serious, only--oh, _do_ go away!" + +"Darling!" said Horace, going to her and taking both her hands, "I know +all--do you understand?--_all_!" + +"Mamma!" cried Sylvia, reproachfully, "have you told him--already? When +we settled that even Horace wasn't to know till--till papa recovers!" + +"I have told him nothing, my dear," replied her mother. "He can't +possibly know, unless--but no, that isn't possible. And, after all," she +added, with a warning glance at her daughter, "I don't know why we +should make any mystery about a mere attack of gout. But I had better go +and see if your father wants anything." And she hurried out of the room. + +Sylvia sat down and gazed silently into the fire. "I dare say you don't +know how dreadfully people kick when they've got gout," she remarked +presently. + +"Oh yes, I do," said Horace, sympathetically; "at least, I can guess." + +"Especially when it's in both legs," continued Sylvia. + +"Or," said Horace gently, "in all four." + +"Ah, you _do_ know!" cried Sylvia. "Then it's all the more horrid of you +to come!" + +"Dearest," said Horace, "is not this just the time when my place should +be near you--and him?" + +"Not near papa, Horace!" she put in anxiously; "it wouldn't be at all +safe." + +"Do you really think I have any fear for myself?" + +"Are you sure you quite know--what he is like now?" + +"I understand," said Horace, trying to put it as considerately as +possible, "that a casual observer, who didn't know your father, might +mistake him, at first sight, for--for some sort of quadruped." + +"He's a mule," sobbed Sylvia, breaking down entirely. "I could bear it +better if he had been a _nice_ mule.... B--but he isn't!" + +"Whatever he may be," declared Horace, as he knelt by her chair +endeavouring to comfort her, "nothing can alter my profound respect for +him. And you must let me see him, Sylvia; because I fully believe I +shall be able to cheer him up." + +"If you imagine you can persuade him to--to laugh it off!" said Sylvia, +tearfully. + +"I wasn't proposing to try to make him see the humorous side of his +situation," Horace mildly explained. "I trust I have more tact than +that. But he may be glad to know that, at the worst, it is only a +temporary inconvenience. I'll take care that he's all right again before +very long." + +She started up and looked at him, her eyes widened with dawning dread +and mistrust. + +"If you can speak like that," she said, "it must have been _you_ +who--no, I can't believe it--that would be too horrible!" + +"I who did _what_, Sylvia? Weren't you there when--when it happened?" + +"No," she replied. "I was only told of it afterwards. Mother heard papa +talking loudly in his study this morning, as if he was angry with +somebody, and at last she grew so uneasy she couldn't bear it any +longer, and went in to see what was the matter with him. Dad was quite +alone and looked as usual, only a little excited; and then, without the +slightest warning, just as she entered the room, he--he changed slowly +into a mule before her eyes! Anybody but mamma would have lost her head +and roused the whole house." + +"Thank Heaven she didn't!" said Horace, fervently. "That was what I was +most afraid of." + +"Then--oh, Horace, it _was_ you! It's no use denying it. I feel more +certain of it every moment!" + +"Now, Sylvia!" he protested, still anxious, if possible, to keep the +worst from her, "what could have put such an idea as that into your +head?" + +"I don't know," she said slowly. "Several things last night. No one who +was really nice, and like everybody else, would live in such queer rooms +like those, and dine on cushions, with dreadful black slaves, and--and +dancing-girls and things. You pretended you were quite poor." + +"So I am, darling. And as for my rooms, and--and the rest, they're all +gone, Sylvia. If you went to Vincent Square to-day, you wouldn't find a +trace of them!" + +"That only shows!" said Sylvia. "But why should you play such a cruel, +and--and ungentlemanly trick on poor dad? If you had ever really loved +me----!" + +"But I do, Sylvia, you can't really believe me capable of such an +outrage! Look at me and tell me so." + +"No, Horace," said Sylvia frankly. "I don't believe _you_ did it. But I +believe you know who _did_. And you had better tell me at once!" + +"If you're quite sure you can stand it," he replied, "I'll tell you +everything." And, as briefly as possible, he told her how he had +unsealed the brass bottle, and all that had come of it. + +She bore it, on the whole, better than he had expected; perhaps, being a +woman, it was some consolation to her to remind him that she had +foretold something of this kind from the very first. + +"But, of course, I never really thought it would be so awful as this!" +she said. "Horace, how _could_ you be so careless as to let a great +wicked thing like that escape out of its bottle?" + +"I had a notion it was a manuscript," said Horace--"till he came out. +But he isn't a great wicked thing, Sylvia. He's an amiable old Jinnee +enough. And he'd do anything for me. Nobody could be more grateful and +generous than he has been." + +"Do you call it generous to change the poor, dear dad into a mule?" +inquired Sylvia, with a little curl of her upper lip. + +"That was an oversight," said Horace; "he meant no harm by it. In Arabia +they do these things--or used to in his day. Not that that's much excuse +for him. Still, he's not so young as he was, and besides, being bottled +up for all those centuries must have narrowed him rather. You must try +and make allowances for him, darling." + +"I shan't," said Sylvia, "unless he apologises to poor father, and puts +him right at once." + +"Why, of course, he'll do that," Horace answered confidently. "I'll see +that he does. I don't mean to stand any more of his nonsense. I'm afraid +I've been just a little too slack for fear of hurting his feelings; but +this time he's gone too far, and I shall talk to him like a Dutch uncle. +He's always ready to do the right thing when he's once shown where he +has gone wrong--only he takes such a lot of showing, poor old chap!" + +"But when do you think he'll--do the right thing?" + +"Oh, as soon as I see him again." + +"Yes; but when _will_ you see him again?" + +"That's more than I can say. He's away just now--in China, or Peru, or +somewhere." + +"Horace! Then he won't be back for months and months!" + +"Oh yes, he will. He can do the whole trip, _aller et retour_, you know, +in a few hours. He's an active old beggar for his age. In the meantime, +dearest, the chief thing is to keep up your father's spirits. So I think +I'd better---- I was just telling Sylvia, Mrs. Futvoye," he said, as +that lady re-entered the room, "that I should like to see the Professor +at once." + +"It's quite, _quite_ impossible!" was the nervous reply. "He's in such a +state that he's unable to see any one. You don't know how fractious gout +makes him!" + +"Dear Mrs. Futvoye," said Horace, "believe me, I know more than you +suppose." + +"Yes, mother, dear," put in Sylvia, "he knows everything--_really_ +everything. And perhaps it might do dad good to see him." + +Mrs. Futvoye sank helplessly down on a settee. "Oh, dear me!" she said. +"I don't know _what_ to say. I really don't. If you had seen him plunge +at the mere suggestion of a doctor!" + +Privately, though naturally he could not say so, Horace thought a vet. +might be more appropriate, but eventually he persuaded Mrs. Futvoye to +conduct him to her husband's study. + +"Anthony, love," she said, as she knocked gently at the door, "I've +brought Horace Ventimore to see you for a few moments, if he may." + +It seemed from the sounds of furious snorting and stamping within, that +the Professor resented this intrusion on his privacy. "My dear Anthony," +said his devoted wife, as she unlocked the door and turned the key on +the inside after admitting Horace, "try to be calm. Think of the +servants downstairs. Horace is _so_ anxious to help." + +As for Ventimore, he was speechless--so inexpressibly shocked was he by +the alteration in the Professor's appearance. He had never seen a mule +in sorrier condition or in so vicious a temper. Most of the lighter +furniture had been already reduced to matchwood; the glass doors of the +bookcase were starred or shivered; precious Egyptian pottery and glass +were strewn in fragments on the carpets, and even the mummy, though it +still smiled with the same enigmatic cheerfulness, seemed to have +suffered severely from the Professorial hoofs. + +Horace instinctively felt that any words of conventional sympathy would +jar here; indeed, the Professor's attitude and expression reminded him +irresistibly of a certain "Blondin Donkey" he had seen enacted by +music-hall artists, at the point where it becomes sullen and defiant. +Only, he had laughed helplessly at the Blondin Donkey, and somehow he +felt no inclination to laugh now. + +"Believe me, sir," he began, "I would not disturb you like this +unless--steady there, for Heaven's sake Professor, don't kick till +you've heard me out!" For, the mule, in a clumsy, shambling way which +betrayed the novice, was slowly revolving on his own axis so as to bring +his hind-quarters into action, while still keeping his only serviceable +eye upon his unwelcome visitor. + +"Listen to me, sir," said Horace, manoeuvring in his turn. "I'm not to +blame for this, and if you brain me, as you seem to be endeavouring to +do, you'll simply destroy the only living man who can get you out of +this." + +The mule appeared impressed by this, and backed cumbrously into a +corner, from which he regarded Horace with a mistrustful, but attentive, +eye. "If, as I imagine, sir," continued Horace, "you are, though +temporarily deprived of speech, perfectly capable of following an +argument, will you kindly signify it by raising your right ear?" The +mule's right ear rose with a sharp twitch. + +"Now we can get on," said Horace. "First let me tell you that I +repudiate all responsibility for the proceedings of that infernal +Jinnee.... I wouldn't stamp like that--you might go through the floor, +you know.... Now, if you will only exercise a little patience----" + +At this the exasperated animal made a sudden run at him with his mouth +open, which obliged Horace to shelter himself behind a large leather +arm-chair. "You really _must_ keep cool, sir," he remonstrated; "your +nerves are naturally upset. If I might suggest a little champagne--you +could manage it in--in a bucket, and it would help you to pull yourself +together. A whisk of your--er--tail would imply consent." The +Professor's tail instantly swept some rare Arabian glass lamps and vases +from a shelf at his rear, whereupon Mrs. Futvoye went out, and returned +presently with a bottle of champagne and a large china _jardiniere_, as +the best substitute she could find for a bucket. + +When the mule had drained the flower-pot greedily and appeared +refreshed, Horace proceeded: "I have every hope, sir," he said, "that +before many hours you will be smiling--pray don't prance like that, I +mean what I say--smiling over what now seems to you, very justly, a most +annoying and serious catastrophe. I shall speak seriously to Fakrash +(the Jinnee, you know), and I am sure that, as soon as he realises what +a frightful blunder he has made, he will be the first to offer you every +reparation in his power. For, old foozle as he is, he's thoroughly +good-hearted." + +The Professor drooped his ears at this, and shook his head with a +doleful incredulity that made him look more like the Pantomime Donkey +than ever. + +"I think I understand him fairly well by this time, sir," said Horace, +"and I'll answer for it that there's no real harm in him. I give you my +word of honour that, if you'll only remain quiet and leave everything to +me, you shall very soon be released from this absurd position. That's +all I came to tell you, and now I won't trouble you any longer. If you +_could_ bring yourself, as a sign that you bear me no ill-feeling, to +give me your--your off-foreleg at parting, I----" + +But the Professor turned his back in so pointed and ominous a manner +that Horace judged it better to withdraw without insisting further. "I'm +afraid," he said to Mrs. Futvoye, after they had rejoined Sylvia in the +drawing-room--"I'm afraid your husband is still a little sore with me +about this miserable business." + +"I don't know what else you can expect," replied the lady, rather +tartly; "he can't help feeling--as we all must and do, after what you +said just now--that, but for you, this would never have happened!" + +"If you mean it was all through my attending that sale," said Horace, +"you might remember that I only went there at the Professor's request. +You know that, Sylvia." + +"Yes, Horace," said Sylvia; "but papa never asked you to buy a hideous +brass bottle with a nasty Genius in it. And any one with ordinary common +sense would have kept it properly corked!" + +"What, you against me too, Sylvia!" cried Horace, cut to the quick. + +"No, Horace, never against you. I didn't mean to say what I did. Only it +_is_ such a relief to put the blame on somebody. I know, I _know_ you +feel it almost as much as we do. But so long as poor, dear papa remains +as he is, we can never be anything to one another. You must see that, +Horace!" + +"Yes, I see that," he said; "but trust me, Sylvia, he shall _not_ remain +as he is. I swear he shall not. In another day or two, at the outside, +you will see him his own self once more. And then--oh, darling, darling, +you won't let anything or anybody separate us? Promise me that!" + +He would have held her in his arms, but she kept him at a distance. +"When papa is himself again," she said, "I shall know better what to +say. I can't promise anything now, Horace." + +Horace recognised that no appeal would draw a more definite answer from +her just then; so he took his leave, with the feeling that, after all, +matters must improve before very long, and in the meantime he must bear +the suspense with patience. + +He got through dinner as well as he could in his own rooms, for he did +not like to go to his club lest the Jinnee should suddenly return during +his absence. + +"If he wants me he'd be quite equal to coming on to the club after me," +he reflected, "for he has about as much sense of the fitness of things +as Mary's lamb. I shouldn't care about seeing him suddenly bursting +through the floor of the smoking-room. Nor would the committee." + +He sat up late, in the hope that Fakrash would appear; but the Jinnee +made no sign, and Horace began to get uneasy. "I wish there was some +way of ringing him up," he thought. "If he were only the slave of a ring +or a lamp, I'd rub it; but it wouldn't be any use to rub that +bottle--and, besides, he isn't a slave. Probably he has a suspicion that +he has not exactly distinguished himself over his latest feat, and +thinks it prudent to keep out of my way for the present. But if he +fancies he'll make things any better for himself by that he'll find +himself mistaken." + +It was maddening to think of the unhappy Professor still fretting away +hour after hour in the uncongenial form of a mule, waiting impatiently +for the relief that never came. If it lingered much longer, he might +actually starve, unless his family thought of getting in some oats for +him, and he could be prevailed upon to touch them. And how much longer +could they succeed in concealing the nature of his affliction? How long +before all Kensington, and the whole civilised world, would know that +one of the leading Orientalists in Europe was restlessly prancing on +four legs around his study in Cottesmore Gardens? + +Racked by speculations such as these, Ventimore lay awake till well into +the small hours, when he dropped off into troubled dreams that, wild as +they were, could not be more grotesquely fantastic than the realities to +which they were the alternative. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +A CHOICE OF EVILS + + +Not even his morning tub could brace Ventimore's spirits to their usual +cheerfulness. After sending away his breakfast almost untasted he stood +at his window, looking drearily out over the crude green turf of Vincent +Square at the indigo masses of the Abbey and the Victoria Tower and the +huge gasometers to the right which loomed faintly through a dun-coloured +haze. + +He felt a positive loathing for his office, to which he had gone with +such high hopes and enthusiasm of late. There was no work for him to do +there any longer, and the sight of his drawing-table and materials +would, he knew, be intolerable in their mute mockery. + +Nor could he with any decency present himself again at Cottesmore +Gardens while the situation still remained unchanged, as it must do +until he had seen Fakrash. + +When would the Jinnee return, or--horrible suspicion!--did he never +intend to return at all? + +"Fakrash!" he groaned aloud, "you _can't_ really mean to leave me in +such a regular deuce of a hole as this?" + +"At thy service!" said a well-known voice behind him, and he turned to +see the Jinnee standing smiling on the hearthrug--and at this +accomplishment of his dearest desire all his indignation surged back. + +"Oh, _there_ you are!" he said irritably. "Where on earth have you been +all this time?" + +"Nowhere on earth," was the bland reply; "but in the regions of the air, +seeking to promote thy welfare." + +"If you have been as brilliantly successful up there as you have down +here," retorted Horace, "I have much to thank you for." + +"I am more than repaid," answered the Jinnee, who, like many highly +estimable persons, was almost impervious to irony, "by such assurances +of thy gratitude." + +"I'm _not_ grateful," said Horace, fuming. "I'm devilish annoyed!" + +"Well hath it been written," replied the Jinnee:-- + + + "'Be disregardful of thine affairs, and commit them to the course + of Fate, + For often a thing that enrages thee may eventually be to thee + pleasing.'" + + +"I don't see the remotest chance of that, in my case," said Horace. + +"Why is thy countenance thus troubled, and what new complaint hast thou +against me?" + +"What the devil do you mean by turning a distinguished and perfectly +inoffensive scholar into a wall-eyed mule?" Horace broke out. "If that +is your idea of a practical joke----!" + +"It is one of the easiest affairs possible," said the Jinnee, +complacently running his fingers through the thin strands of his beard. +"I have accomplished such transformations on several occasions." + +"Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself, that's all. The question is +now--how do you propose to restore him again?" + +"Far from undoing be that which is accomplished!" was the sententious +answer. + +"What?" cried Horace, hardly believing his ears; "you surely don't mean +to allow that unhappy Professor to remain like that for ever, do you?" + +"None can alter what is predestined." + +"Very likely not. But it wasn't decreed that a learned man should be +suddenly degraded to a beastly mule for the rest of his life. Destiny +wouldn't be such a fool!" + +"Despise not mules, for they are useful and valuable animals in the +household." + +"But, confound it all, have you no imagination? Can't you enter +at all into the feelings of a man--a man of wide learning and +reputation--suddenly plunged into such a humiliating condition?" + +"Upon his own head be it," said Fakrash, coldly. "For he hath brought +this fate upon himself." + +"Well, how do you suppose that you have helped _me_ by this performance? +Will it make him any the more disposed to consent to my marrying his +daughter? Is that all you know of the world?" + +"It is not my intention that thou shouldst take his daughter to wife." + +"Whether you approve or not, it's my intention to marry her." + +"Assuredly she will not marry thee so long as her father remaineth a +mule." + +"There I agree with you. But is that your notion of doing me a good +turn?" + +"I did not consider thy interest in this matter." + +"Then will you be good enough to consider it now? I have pledged my word +that he shall be restored to his original form. Not only my happiness is +at stake, but my honour." + +"By failure to perform the impossible none can lose honour. And this is +a thing that cannot be undone." + +"Cannot be undone?" repeated Horace, feeling a cold clutch at his heart. +"Why?" + +"Because," said the Jinnee, sullenly, "I have forgotten the way." + +"Nonsense!" retorted Horace; "I don't believe it. Why," he urged, +descending to flattery, "you're such a clever old Johnny--I beg your +pardon, I meant such a clever old _Jinnee_--you can do anything, if you +only give your mind to it. Just look at the way you changed this house +back again to what it was. Marvellous!" + +"That was the veriest trifle," said Fakrash, though he was obviously +pleased by this tribute to his talent; "this would be a different affair +altogether." + +"But child's play to _you_!" insinuated Horace. "Come, you know very +well you can do it if you only choose." + +"It may be as thou sayest. But I do not choose." + +"Then I think," said Horace, "that, considering the obligation you admit +yourself you are under to me, I have a right to know the reason--the +_real_ reason--why you refuse." + +"Thy claim is not without justice," answered the Jinnee, after a pause, +"nor can I decline to gratify thee." + +"That's right," cried Horace; "I knew you'd see it in the proper light +when it was once put to you. Now, don't lose any more time, but restore +that unfortunate man at once, as you've promised." + +"Not so," said the Jinnee; "I promised thee a reason for my refusal--and +that thou shalt have. Know then, O my son, that this indiscreet one had, +by some vile and unhallowed arts, divined the hidden meaning of what was +written upon the seal of the bottle wherein I was confined, and was +preparing to reveal the same unto all men." + +"What would it matter to you if he did?" + +"Much--for the writing contained a false and lying record of my +actions." + +"If it is all lies, it can't do you any harm. Why not treat them with +the contempt they deserve?" + +"They are not _all_ lies," the Jinnee admitted reluctantly. + +"Well, never mind. Whatever you've done, you've expiated it by this +time." + +"Now that Suleyman is no more, it is my desire to seek out my kinsmen of +the Green Jinn, and live out my days in amity and honour. How can that +be if they hear my name execrated by all mortals?" + +"Nobody would think of execrating you about an affair three thousand +years old. It's too stale a scandal." + +"Thou speakest without understanding. I tell thee that if men knew but +the half of my misdoings," said Fakrash, in a tone not altogether free +from a kind of sombre complacency, "the noise of them would rise even +unto the uppermost regions, and scorn and loathing would be my portion." + +"Oh, it's not so bad as all that," said Horace, who had a private +impression that the Jinnee's "past" would probably turn out to be +chiefly made up of peccadilloes. "But, anyway, I'm sure the Professor +will readily agree to keep silence about it; and, as you have of course, +got the seal in your own possession again----" + +"Nay; the seal is still in his possession, and it is naught to me where +it is deposited," said Fakrash, "since the only mortal who hath +deciphered it is now a dumb animal." + +"Not at all," said Horace. "There are several friends of his who could +decipher that inscription quite as easily as he did." + +"Is this the truth?" said the Jinnee, in visible alarm. + +"Certainly," said Horace. "Within the last quarter of a century +archaeology has made great strides. Our learned men can now read +Babylonian bricks and Chaldean tablets as easily as if they were +advertisements on galvanised iron. You may think you've been extremely +clever in turning the Professor into an animal, but you'll probably find +you've only made another mistake." + +"How so?" inquired Fakrash. + +"Well," said Horace, seeing his advantage, and pushing it +unscrupulously, "now, that, in your infinite wisdom, you have ordained +that he should be a mule, he naturally can't possess property. Therefore +all his effects will have to be sold, and amongst them will be that seal +of yours, which, like many other things in his collection, will probably +be bought up by the British Museum, where it will be examined and +commented upon by every Orientalist in Europe. I suppose you've thought +of all that?" + +"O young man of marvellous sagacity!" said the Jinnee; "truly I had +omitted to consider these things, and thou hast opened my eyes in time. +For I will present myself unto this man-mule and adjure him to reveal +where he hath bestowed this seal, so that I may regain it." + +"He can't do that, you know, so long as he remains a mule." + +"I will endow him with speech for the purpose." + +"Let me tell you this," said Horace: "he's in a very nasty temper just +now, naturally enough, and you won't get anything out of him until you +have restored him to human form. If you do that, he'll agree to +anything." + +"Whether I restore him or not will depend not on me, but on the damsel +who is his daughter, and to whom thou art contracted in marriage. For +first of all I must speak with her." + +"So long as I am present and you promise not to play any tricks," said +Horace, "I've no objection, for I believe, if you once saw her and heard +her plead for her poor father, you wouldn't have the heart to hold out +any longer. But you must give me your word that you'll behave yourself." + +"Thou hast it," said the Jinnee; "I do but desire to see her on thine +account." + +"Very well," agreed Horace; "but I really can't introduce you in that +turban--she'd be terrified. Couldn't you contrive to get yourself up in +commonplace English clothes, just for once--something that wouldn't +attract so much attention?" + +"Will this satisfy thee?" inquired the Jinnee, as his green turban and +flowing robes suddenly resolved themselves into the conventional +chimney-pot hat, frock-coat, and trousers of modern civilisation. + +He bore a painful resemblance in them to the kind of elderly gentleman +who comes on in the harlequinade to be bonneted by the clown; but Horace +was in no mood to be critical just then. + +"That's better," he said encouragingly; "much better. Now," he added, as +he led the way to the hall and put on his own hat and overcoat, "we'll +go out and find a hansom and be at Kensington in less than twenty +minutes." + +"We shall be there in less than twenty seconds," said the Jinnee, +seizing him by the arm above the elbow; and Horace found himself +suddenly carried up into the air and set down, gasping with surprise and +want of breath, on the pavement opposite the Futvoyes' door. + +"I should just like to observe," he said, as soon as he could speak, +"that if we've been seen, we shall probably cause a sensation. Londoners +are not accustomed to seeing people skimming over the chimney-pots like +amateur rooks." + +"Trouble not for that," said Fakrash, "for no mortal eyes are capable of +following our flight." + +"I hope not," said Horace, "or I shall lose any reputation I have left. +I think," he added, "I'd better go in alone first and prepare them, if +you don't mind waiting outside. I'll come to the window and wave my +pocket-handkerchief when they're ready. And _do_ come in by the door +like an ordinary person, and ask the maidservant if you may see me." + +"I will bear it in mind," answered the Jinnee, and suddenly sank, or +seemed to sink, through a chink in the pavement. + +Horace, after ringing at the Futvoyes' door, was admitted and shown into +the drawing-room, where Sylvia presently came to him, looking as lovely +as ever, in spite of the pallor due to sleeplessness and anxiety. "It is +kind of you to call and inquire," she said, with the unnatural calm of +suppressed hysteria. "Dad is much the same this morning. He had a fairly +good night, and was able to take part of a carrot for breakfast--but +I'm afraid he has just remembered that he has to read a paper on +'Oriental Occultism' before the Asiatic Society this evening, and it's +worrying him a little.... Oh, Horace," she broke out, unexpectedly, "how +perfectly awful all this is! How _are_ we to bear it?" + +"Don't give way, darling!" said Horace; "you will not have to bear it +much longer." + +"It's all very well, Horace, but unless something is done _soon_ it will +be too late. We can't go _on_ keeping a mule in the study without the +servants suspecting something, and where are we to put poor, dear papa? +It's too ghastly to think of his having to be sent away to--to a Home of +Rest for Horses--and yet what _is_ to be done with him?... Why do you +come if you can't do anything?" + +"I shouldn't be here unless I could bring you good news. You remember +what I told you about the Jinnee?" + +"Remember!" cried Sylvia. "As if I could forget! Has he really come +back, Horace?" + +"Yes. I think I have brought him to see that he has made a foolish +mistake in enchanting your unfortunate father, and he seems willing to +undo it on certain conditions. He is somewhere within call at this +moment, and will come in whenever I give the signal. But he wishes to +speak to you first." + +"To _me_? Oh, no, Horace!" exclaimed Sylvia, recoiling. "I'd so much +rather not. I don't like things that have come out of brass bottles. I +shouldn't know what to say, and it would frighten me horribly." + +"You must be brave, darling!" said Horace. "Remember that it depends on +you whether the Professor is to be restored or not. And there's nothing +alarming about old Fakrash, either, I've got him to put on ordinary +things, and he really doesn't look so bad in them. He's quite a mild, +amiable old noodle, and he'll do anything for you, if you'll only stroke +him down the right way. You _will_ see him, won't you, for your father's +sake?" + +"If I must," said Sylvia, with a shudder, "I--I'll be as nice to him as +I can." + +Horace went to the window and gave the signal, though there was no one +in sight. However, it was evidently seen, for the next moment there was +a resounding blow at the front door, and a little later Jessie, the +parlour-maid, announced "Mr. Fatrasher Larmash--to see Mr. Ventimore," +and the Jinnee stalked gravely in, with his tall hat on his head. + +"You are probably not aware of it, sir," said Horace, "but it is the +custom here to uncover in the presence of a lady." The Jinnee removed +his hat with both hands, and stood silent and impassive. + +"Let me present you to Miss Sylvia Futvoye," Ventimore continued, "the +lady whose name you have already heard." + +There was a momentary gleam in Fakrash's odd, slanting eyes as they +lighted on Sylvia's shrinking figure, but he made no acknowledgment of +the introduction. + +"The damsel is not without comeliness," he remarked to Horace; "but +there are lovelier far than she." + +"I didn't ask you for either criticisms or comparisons," said Ventimore, +sharply; "there is nobody in the world equal to Miss Futvoye, in my +opinion, and you will be good enough to remember that fact. She is +exceedingly distressed (as any dutiful daughter would be) by the cruel +and senseless trick you have played her father, and she begs that you +will rectify it at once. Don't you, Sylvia?" + +"Yes, indeed!" said Sylvia, almost in a whisper, "if--if it isn't +troubling you too much!" + +"I have been turning over thy words in my mind," said Fakrash to Horace, +still ignoring Sylvia, "and I am convinced that thou art right. Even if +the contents of the seal were known of all men, they would raise no +clamour about affairs that concern them not. Therefore it is nothing to +me in whose hands the seal may be. Dost thou not agree with me in this?" + +"Of course I do," said Horace. "And it naturally follows that----" + +"It naturally follows, as thou sayest," said the Jinnee, with a cunning +assumption of indifference, "that I have naught to gain by demanding +back the seal as the price of restoring this damsel's father to his +original form. Wherefore, so far as I am concerned, let him remain a +mule for ever; unless, indeed, thou art ready to comply with my +conditions." + +"Conditions!" cried Horace, utterly unprepared for this conclusion. +"What can you possibly want from me? But state them. I'll agree to +anything, in reason!" + +"I demand that thou shouldst renounce the hand of this damsel." + +"That's out of all reason," said Horace, "and you know it. I will never +give her up, so long as she is willing to keep me." + +"Maiden," said the Jinnee, addressing Sylvia for the first time, "the +matter rests with thee. Wilt thou release this my son from his contract, +since thou art no fit wife for such as he?" + +"How can I," cried Sylvia, "when I love him and he loves me? What a +wicked tyrannical old thing you must be to expect it! I _can't_ give him +up." + +"It is but giving up what can never be thine," said Fakrash. "And be not +anxious for him, for I will reward and console him a thousandfold for +the loss of thy society. A little while, and he shall remember thee no +more." + +"Don't believe him, darling," said Horace; "you know me better than +that." + +"Remember," said the Jinnee, "that by thy refusal thou wilt condemn thy +parent to remain a mule throughout all his days. Art thou so unnatural +and hard-hearted a daughter as to do this thing?" + +"Oh, I couldn't!" cried Sylvia. "I can't let poor father remain a mule +all his life when one word--and yet what _am_ I to do? Horace, what +shall I say? Advise me.... Advise me!" + +"Heaven help us both!" groaned Ventimore. "If I could only see the +right thing to do. Look here, Mr. Fakrash," he added, "this is a matter +that requires consideration. Will you relieve us of your presence for a +short time, while we talk it over?" + +"With all my heart," said the Jinnee, in the most obliging manner in the +world, and vanished instantly. + +"Now, darling," began Horace, after he had gone, "if that unspeakable +old scoundrel is really in earnest, there's no denying that he's got us +in an extremely tight place. But I can't bring myself to believe that he +_does_ mean it. I fancy he's only trying us. And what I want you to do +is not to consider me in the matter at all." + +"How can I help it?" said poor Sylvia. "Horace, you--you don't _want_ to +be released, do you?" + +"I?" said Horace, "when you are all I have in the world! That's so +likely, Sylvia! But we are bound to look facts in the face. To begin +with, even if this hadn't happened, your people wouldn't let our +engagement continue. For my prospects have changed again, dearest. I'm +even worse off than when we first met, for that confounded Jinnee has +contrived to lose my first and only client for me--the one thing worth +having he ever gave me." And he told her the story of the mushroom +palace and Mr. Wackerbath's withdrawal. "So you see, darling," he +concluded, "I haven't even a home to offer you; and if I had, it would +be miserably uncomfortable for you with that old Marplot continually +dropping in on us--especially if, as I'm afraid he has, he's taken some +unreasonable dislike to you." + +"But surely you can talk him over?" said Sylvia; "you said you could do +anything you liked with him." + +"I'm beginning to find," he replied, ruefully enough, "that he's not so +easily managed as I thought. And for the present, I'm afraid, if we are +to get the Professor out of this, that there's nothing for it but to +humour old Fakrash." + +"Then you actually advise me to--to break it off?" she cried; "I never +thought you would do that!" + +"For your own sake," said Horace; "for your father's sake. If _you_ +won't, Sylvia, I _must_. And you will spare me that? Let us both agree +to part and--and trust that we shall be united some day." + +"Don't try to deceive me or yourself, Horace," she said; "if we part +now, it will be for ever." + +He had a dismal conviction that she was right. "We must hope for the +best," he said drearily; "Fakrash may have some motive in all this we +don't understand. Or he may relent. But part we must, for the present." + +"Very well," she said. "If he restores dad, I will give you up. But not +unless." + +"Hath the damsel decided?" asked the Jinnee, suddenly re-appearing; "for +the period of deliberation is past." + +"Miss Futvoye and I," Horace answered for her, "are willing to consider +our engagement at an end, until you approve of its renewal, on condition +that you restore her father at once." + +"Agreed!" said Fakrash. "Conduct me to him, and we will arrange the +matter without delay." + +Outside they met Mrs. Futvoye on her way from the study. "You here, +Horace?" she exclaimed. "And who is this--gentleman?" + +"This," said Horace, "is the--er--author of the Professor's misfortunes, +and he had come here at my request to undo his work." + +"It _would_ be so kind of him!" exclaimed the distressed lady, who was +by this time far beyond either surprise or resentment. "I'm sure, if he +knew all we have gone through----!" and she led the way to her husband's +room. + +As soon as the door was opened the Professor seemed to recognise his +tormentor in spite of his changed raiment, and was so powerfully +agitated that he actually reeled on his four legs, and "stood over" in +a lamentable fashion. + +"O man of distinguished attainments!" began the Jinnee, "whom I have +caused, for reasons that are known unto thee, to assume the shape of a +mule, speak, I adjure thee, and tell me where thou hast deposited the +inscribed seal which is in thy possession." + +The Professor spoke; and the effect of articulate speech proceeding from +the mouth of what was to all outward seeming an ordinary mule was +strange beyond description. "I'll see you damned first," he said +sullenly. "You can't do worse to me than you've done already!" + +"As thou wilt," said Fakrash; "but unless I regain it, I will not +restore thee to what thou wast." + +"Well, then," said the mule, savagely, "you'll find it in the top +right-hand drawer of my writing-table: the key is in that diorite bowl +on the mantelpiece." + +The Jinnee unlocked the drawer, and took out the metal cap, which he +placed in the breast pocket of his incongruous frock-coat. "So far, +well," he said; "next thou must deliver up to me the transcription thou +hast made, and swear to preserve an inviolable secrecy regarding the +meaning thereof." + +"Do you know what you're asking, sir?" said the mule, laying back his +ears viciously. "Do you think that to oblige you I'm going to suppress +one of the most remarkable discoveries of my whole scientific career? +Never, sir--never!" + +"Since if thou refusest I shall assuredly deprive thee of speech once +more and leave thee a mule, as thou art now, of hideous appearance," +said the Jinnee, "thou art like to gain little by a discovery which thou +wilt be unable to impart. However, the choice rests with thee." + +The mule rolled his one eye, and showed all his teeth in a vicious +snarl. "You've got the whip-hand of me," he said, "and I may as well +give in. There's a transcript inside my blotting-case--it's the only +copy I've made." + +Fakrash found the paper, which he rubbed into invisibility between his +palms, as any ordinary conjurer might do. + +"Now raise thy right forefoot," he said, "and swear by all thou holdest +sacred never to divulge what thou hast learnt"--which oath the +Professor, in the vilest of tempers, took, clumsily enough. + +"Good," said the Jinnee, with a grim smile. "Now let one of thy women +bring me a cup of fair water." + +Sylvia went out, and came back with a cup of water. "It's filtered," she +said anxiously; "I don't know if that will do?" + +"It will suffice," said Fakrash. "Let both the women withdraw." + +"Surely," remonstrated Mrs. Futvoye, "you don't mean to turn his wife +and daughter out of the room at such a moment as this? We shall be +perfectly quiet, and we may even be of some help." + +"Do as you're told, my dear!" snapped the ungrateful mule; "do as you're +told. You'll only be in the way here. Do you suppose he doesn't know his +own beastly business?" + +They left accordingly; whereupon Fakrash took the cup--an ordinary +breakfast cup with a Greek key-border pattern in pale blue round the +top--and, drenching the mule with the contents, exclaimed, "Quit this +form and return to the form in which thou wast!" + +For a dreadful moment or two it seemed as if no effect was to be +produced; the animal simply stood and shivered, and Ventimore began to +feel an agonising suspicion that the Jinnee really had, as he had first +asserted, forgotten how to perform this particular incantation. + +All at once the mule reared, and began to beat the air frantically with +his fore-hoofs; after which he fell heavily backward into the nearest +armchair (which was, fortunately, a solid and capacious piece of +furniture) with his fore-legs hanging limply at his side, in a +semi-human fashion. There was a brief convulsion, and then, by some +gradual process unspeakably impressive to witness, the man seemed to +break through the mule, the mule became merged in the man--and Professor +Futvoye, restored to his own natural form and habit, sat gasping and +trembling in the chair before them. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +"SINCE THERE'S NO HELP, COME, LET US KISS AND PART!" + + +As soon as the Professor seemed to have regained his faculties, Horace +opened the door and called in Sylvia and her mother, who were, as was +only to be expected, overcome with joy on seeing the head of the family +released from his ignoble condition of a singularly ill-favoured +quadruped. + +"There, there," said the Professor, as he submitted to their embraces +and incoherent congratulations, "it's nothing to make a fuss about. I'm +quite myself again, as you can see. And," he added, with an unreasonable +outburst of ill-temper, "if one of you had only had the common sense to +think of such a simple remedy as sprinkling a little cold water over me +when I was first taken like that, I should have been spared a great deal +of unnecessary inconvenience. But that's always the way with women--lose +their heads the moment anything goes wrong! If I had not kept perfectly +cool myself--" + +"It was very, very stupid of us not to think of it, papa," said Sylvia, +tactfully ignoring the fact that there was scarcely an undamaged article +in the room; "still, you know, if _we_ had thrown the water it mightn't +have had the same effect." + +"I'm not in a condition to argue now," said her father; "you didn't +trouble to try it, and there's no more to be said." + +"No more to be said!" exclaimed Fakrash. "O thou monster of ingratitude, +hast thou no thanks for him who hath delivered thee from thy +predicament?" + +"As I am already indebted to you, sir," said the Professor, "for about +twenty-four hours of the most poignant and humiliating mental and bodily +anguish a human being can endure, inflicted for no valid reason that I +can discover, except the wanton indulgence of your unholy powers, I can +only say that any gratitude of which I am conscious is of a very +qualified description. As for you, Ventimore," he added, turning to +Horace, "I don't know--I can only guess at--the part you have played in +this wretched business; but in any case you will understand, once for +all, that all relations between us must cease." + +"Papa," said Sylvia, tremulously, "Horace and I have already agreed +that--that we must separate." + +"At my bidding," explained Fakrash, suavely; "for such an alliance would +be totally unworthy of his merits and condition." + +This frankness was rather too much for the Professor, whose temper had +not been improved by his recent trials. + +"Nobody asked for your opinion, sir!" he snapped. "A person who has only +recently been released from a term of long and, from all I have been +able to ascertain, well-deserved imprisonment, is scarcely entitled to +pose as an authority on social rank. Have the decency not to interfere +again with my domestic affairs." + +"Excellent is the saying," remarked the imperturbable Jinnee, "'Let the +rat that is between the paws of the leopard observe rigidly all the +rules of politeness and refrain from words of provocation.' For to +return thee to the form of a mule once more would be no difficult +undertaking." + +"I think I failed to make myself clear," the Professor hastened to +observe--"failed to make myself clear. I--I merely meant to congratulate +you on your fortunate escape from the consequences of what I--I don't +doubt was an error of justice. I--I am sure that, in the future, you +will employ your--your very remarkable abilities to better purpose, and +I would suggest that the greatest service you can do this unfortunate +young man here is to abstain from any further attempts to promote his +interests." + +"Hear, hear!" Horace could not help throwing in, though in so discreet +an undertone that it was inaudible. + +"Far be this from me," replied Fakrash. "For he has become unto me even +as a favourite son, whom I design to place upon the golden pinnacle of +felicity. Therefore, I have chosen for him a wife, who is unto this +damsel of thine as the full moon to the glow-worm, and as the bird of +Paradise to an unfledged sparrow. And the nuptials shall be celebrated +before many hours." + +"Horace!" cried Sylvia, justly incensed, "why--_why_ didn't you tell me +this before?" + +"Because," said the unhappy Horace, "this is the very first I've heard +of it. He's always springing some fresh surprise on me," he added, in a +whisper--"but they never come to anything much. And he can't marry me +against my will, you know." + +"No," said Sylvia, biting her lip. "I never supposed he could do that, +Horace." + +"I'll settle this at once," he replied. "Now, look here, Mr. Jinnee," he +added, "I don't know what new scheme you have got in your head--but if +you are proposing to marry me to anybody in particular----" + +"Have I not informed thee that I have it in contemplation to obtain for +thee the hand of a King's daughter of marvellous beauty and +accomplishments?" + +"You know perfectly well you never mentioned it before," said Horace, +while Sylvia gave a little low cry. + +"Repine not, O damsel," counselled the Jinnee, "since it is for his +welfare. For, though as yet he believeth it not, when he beholds the +resplendent beauty of her countenance he will swoon away with delight +and forget thy very existence." + +"I shall do nothing of the sort," said Horace, savagely. "Just +understand that I don't intend to marry any Princess. You may prevent +me--in fact, you _have_--from marrying this lady, but you can't force me +to marry anybody else. I defy you!" + +"When thou hast seen thy bride's perfections thou wilt need no +compulsion," said Fakrash. "And if thou shouldst refuse, know this: that +thou wilt be exposing those who are dear to thee in this household to +calamities of the most unfortunate description." + +The awful vagueness of this threat completely crushed Horace; he could +not think, he did not even dare to imagine, what consequences he might +bring upon his beloved Sylvia and her helpless parents by persisting in +his refusal. + +"Give me time," he said heavily; "I want to talk this over with you." + +"Pardon me, Ventimore," said the Professor, with acidulous politeness; +"but, interesting as the discussion of your matrimonial arrangements is +to you and your--a--protector, I should greatly prefer that you choose +some more fitting place for arriving at a decision which is in the +circumstances a foregone conclusion. I am rather tired and upset, and I +should be obliged if you and this gentleman could bring this most trying +interview to a close as soon as you conveniently can." + +"You hear, Mr. Fakrash?" said Horace, between his teeth, "it is quite +time we left. If you go at once, I will follow you very shortly." + +"Thou wilt find me awaiting thee," answered the Jinnee, and, to Mrs. +Futvoye's and Sylvia's alarm, disappeared through one of the bookcases. + +"Well," said Horace, gloomily, "you see how I'm situated? That obstinate +old devil has cornered me. I'm done for!" + +"Don't say that," said the Professor; "you appear to be on the eve of a +most brilliant alliance, in which I am sure you have our best +wishes--the best wishes of us all," he added pointedly. + +"Sylvia," said Horace, still lingering, "before I go, tell me that, +whatever I may have to do, you will understand that--that it will be for +your sake!" + +"Please don't talk like that," she said. "We may never see one another +again. Don't let my last recollection of you be of--of a hypocrite, +Horace!" + +"A hypocrite!" he cried. "Sylvia, this is too much! What have I said or +done to make you think me that?" + +"Oh, I am not so simple as you suppose, Horace," she replied. "I see now +why all this has happened: why poor dad was tormented; why you insisted +on my setting you free. But I would have released you without _that_! +Indeed, all this elaborate artifice wasn't in the least necessary!" + +"You believe I was an accomplice in that old fool's plot?" he said. "You +believe me such a cur as that?" + +"I don't blame you," she said. "I don't believe you could help yourself. +He can make you do whatever he chooses. And then, you are so rich now, +it is natural that you should want to marry some one--some one more +suited to you--like this lovely Princess of yours." + +"Of mine!" groaned the exasperated Horace. "When I tell you I've never +even seen her! As if any Princess in the world would marry me to please +a Jinnee out of a brass bottle! And if she did, Sylvia, you can't +believe that any Princess would make me forget you!" + +"It depends so very much on the Princess," was all Sylvia could be +induced to say. + +"Well," said Horace, "if that's all the faith you have in me, I suppose +it's useless to say any more. Good-bye, Mrs. Futvoye; good-bye, +Professor. I wish I could tell you how deeply I regret all the trouble I +have brought on you by my own folly. All I can say is, that I will bear +anything in future rather than expose you or any of you to the smallest +risk." + +"I trust, indeed," said the Professor, stiffly, "that you will use all +the influence at your command to secure me from any repetition of an +experience that might well have unmanned a less equable temperament than +my own." + +"Good-bye, Horace," said Mrs. Futvoye, more kindly. "I believe you are +more to be pitied than blamed, whatever others may think. And _I_ don't +forget--if Anthony does--that, but for you, he might, instead of sitting +there comfortably in his armchair, be lashing out with his hind legs and +kicking everything to pieces at this very moment!" + +"I deny that I lashed out!" said the Professor. "My--a--hind quarters +may have been under imperfect control--but I never lost my reasoning +powers or my good humour for a single instant. I can say that +truthfully." + +If the Professor could say that truthfully amidst the general wreck in +which he sat, like another Marius, he had little to learn in the gentle +art of self-deception; but there was nothing to gain by contradicting +him then. + +"Good-bye, Sylvia," said Horace, and held out his hand. + +"Good-bye," she said, without offering to take it or look at him--and, +after a miserable pause, he left the study. But before he had reached +the front door he heard a swish and swirl of drapery behind him, and +felt her light hand on his arm. "Ah, no!" she said, clinging to him, "I +can't let you go like this. I didn't mean all the things I said just +now. I _do_ believe in you, Horace--at least, I'll try hard to.... And I +shall always, _always_ love you, Horace.... I shan't care--very +much--even if you do forget me, so long as you are happy.... Only don't +be _too_ happy. Think of me sometimes!" + +"I shall _not_ be too happy," he said, as he held her close to his heart +and kissed her pathetically drawn mouth and flushed cheeks. "And I shall +think of you always." + +"And you won't fall in love with your Princess?" entreated Sylvia, at +the end of her altruism. "Promise!" + +"If I am ever provided with one," he replied, "I shall loathe her--for +not being you. But don't let us lose heart, darling. There must be some +way of talking that old idiot out of this nonsense and bringing him +round to common sense. I'm not going to give in just yet!" + +These were brave words--but, as they both felt, the situation had little +enough to warrant them, and, after one last long embrace, they parted, +and he was no sooner on the steps than he felt himself caught up as +before and borne through the air with breathless speed, till he was set +down, he could not have well said how, in a chair in his own +sitting-room at Vincent Square. + +"Well," he said, looking at the Jinnee, who was standing opposite with a +smile of intolerable complacency, "I suppose you feel satisfied with +yourself over this business?" + +"It hath indeed been brought to a favourable conclusion," said Fakrash. +"Well hath the poet written----" + +"I don't think I can stand any more 'Elegant Extracts' this afternoon," +interrupted Horace. "Let us come to business. You seem," he went on, +with a strong effort to keep himself in hand, "to have formed some plan +for marrying me to a King's daughter. May I ask you for full +particulars?" + +"No honour and advancement can be in excess of thy deserts," answered +the Jinnee. + +"Very kind of you to say so--but you are probably unaware that, as +society is constituted at the present time, the objections to such an +alliance would be quite insuperable." + +"For me," said the Jinnee, "few obstacles are insuperable. But speak thy +mind freely." + +"I will," said Horace. "To begin with, no European Princess of the Blood +Royal would entertain the idea for a moment. And if she did, she would +forfeit her rank and cease to be a Princess, and I should probably be +imprisoned in a fortress for _lese majeste_ or something." + +"Dismiss thy fears, for I do not propose to unite thee to any Princess +that is born of mortals. The bride I intend for thee is a Jinneeyeh; the +peerless Bedeea-el-Jemal, daughter of my kinsman Shahyal, the Ruler of +the Blue Jann." + +"Oh, is she, though?" said Horace, blankly. "I'm exceedingly obliged, +but, whatever may be the lady's attractions----" + +"Her nose," recited the Jinnee, with enthusiasm, "is like unto the keen +edge of a polished sword; her hair resembleth jewels, and her cheeks are +ruddy as wine. She hath heavy lips, and when she looketh aside she +putteth to shame the wild cows...." + +"My good, excellent friend," said Horace, by no means impressed by this +catalogue of charms, "one doesn't marry to mortify wild cows." + +"When she walketh with a vacillating gait," continued Fakrash, as though +he had not been interrupted, "the willow branch itself turneth green +with envy." + +"Personally," said Horace, "a waddle doesn't strike me as particularly +fascinating--it's quite a matter of taste. Do you happen to have seen +this enchantress lately?" + +"My eyes have not been refreshed by her manifold beauties since I was +enclosed by Suleyman--whose name be accursed--in the brass bottle of +which thou knowest. Why dost thou ask?" + +"Merely because it occurred to me that, after very nearly three thousand +years, your charming kinswoman may--well, to put it as mildly as +possible, not have altogether escaped the usual effects of Time. I mean, +she must be getting on, you know!" + +"O, silly-bearded one!" said the Jinnee, in half-scornful rebuke; "art +thou, then, ignorant that we of the Jinn are not as mortals, that we +should feel the ravages of age?" + +"Forgive me if I'm personal," said Horace; "but surely your own hair +and beard might be described as rather inclining to grey." + +"Not from age," said Fakrash, "This cometh from long confinement." + +"I see," said Horace. "Like the Prisoner of Chillon. Well, assuming that +the lady in question is still in the bloom of early youth, I see one +fatal difficulty to becoming her suitor." + +"Doubtless," said the Jinnee, "thou art referring to Jarjarees, the son +of Rejmoos, the son of Iblees?" + +"No, I wasn't," said Horace; "because, you see, I don't remember having +ever heard of him. However, he's _another_ fatal difficulty. That makes +two of them." + +"Surely I have spoken of him to thee as my deadliest foe? It is true +that he is a powerful and vindictive Efreet, who hath long persecuted +the beauteous Bedeea with hateful attentions. Yet it may be possible, by +good fortune, to overthrow him." + +"Then I gather that any suitor for Bedeea's hand would be looked upon as +a rival by the amiable Jarjarees?" + +"Far is he from being of an amiable disposition," answered the Jinnee, +simply, "and he would be so transported by rage and jealousy that he +would certainly challenge thee to mortal combat." + +"Then that settles it," said Horace. "I don't think any one can fairly +call me a coward, but I do draw the line at fighting an Efreet for the +hand of a lady I've never seen. How do I know he'll fight fair?" + +"He would probably appear unto thee first in the form of a lion, and if +he could not thus prevail against thee, transform himself into a +serpent, and then into a buffalo or some other wild beast." + +"And I should have to tackle the entire menagerie?" said Horace. "Why, +my dear sir, I should never get beyond the lion!" + +"I would assist thee to assume similar transformations," said the +Jinnee, "and thus thou mayst be enabled to defeat him. For I burn with +desire to behold mine enemy reduced to cinders." + +"It's much more likely that you would have to sweep _me_ up!" said +Horace, who had a strong conviction that anything in which the Jinnee +was concerned would be bungled somehow. "And if you're so anxious to +destroy this Jarjarees, why don't you challenge him to meet you in some +quiet place in the desert and settle him yourself? It's much more in +your line than it is in mine!" + +He was not without hopes that Fakrash might act on this suggestion, and +that so he would be relieved of him in the simplest and most +satisfactory way; but any such hopes were as usual doomed to +disappointment. + +"It would be of no avail," said the Jinnee, "for it hath been written of +old that Jarjarees shall not perish save by the hand of a mortal. And I +am persuaded that thou wilt turn out to be that mortal, since thou art +both strong and fearless, and, moreover, it is also predestined that +Bedeea shall wed one of the sons of men." + +"Then," said Horace, feeling that this line of defence must be +abandoned, "I fall back on objection number one. Even if Jarjarees were +obliging enough to retire in my favour, I should still decline to become +the--a--consort of a Jinneeyeh whom I've never seen, and don't love." + +"Thou hast heard of her incomparable charms, and verily the ear may love +before the eye." + +"It may," admitted Horace, "but neither of _my_ ears is the least in +love at present." + +"These reasons are of no value," said Fakrash, "and if thou hast none +better----" + +"Well," said Ventimore, "I think I have. You profess to be anxious +to--to requite the trifling service I rendered you, though hitherto, +you'll admit yourself, you haven't made a very brilliant success of it. +But, putting the past aside," he continued, with a sudden dryness in his +throat; "putting the past aside, I ask you to consider what possible +benefit or happiness such a match as this--I'm afraid I'm not so +fortunate as to secure your attention?" he broke off, as he observed the +Jinnee's eyes beginning to film over in the disagreeable manner +characteristic of certain birds. + +"Proceed," said Fakrash, unskinning his eyes for a second; "I am +hearkening unto thee." + +"It seems to me," stammered Horace, inconsequently enough, "that all +that time inside a bottle--well, you can't call it _experience_ exactly; +and possibly in the interval you've forgotten all you knew about +feminine nature. I think you _must_ have." + +"It is not possible that such knowledge should be forgotten," said the +Jinnee, resenting this imputation in quite a human way. "Thy words +appear to me to lack sense. Interpret them, I pray thee." + +"Why," explained Horace, "you don't mean to tell me that this young and +lovely relation of yours, a kind of immortal, and--and with the devil's +own pride, would be gratified by your proposal to bestow her hand upon +an insignificant and unsuccessful London architect? She'd turn up that +sharp and polished nose of hers at the mere idea of so unequal a match!" + +"An excellent rank is that conferred by wealth," remarked the Jinnee. + +"But I'm _not_ rich, and I've already declined any riches from you," +said Horace. "And, what's more to the point, I'm perfectly and +hopelessly obscure. If you had the slightest sense of humour--which I +fear you have not--you would at once perceive the absurdity of proposing +to unite a radiant, ethereal, superhuman being to a commonplace +professional nonentity in a morning coat and a tall hat. It's really too +ridiculous!" + +"What thou hast just said is not altogether without wisdom," said +Fakrash, to whom this was evidently a new point of view. "Art thou, +indeed, so utterly unknown?" + +"Unknown?" repeated Horace; "I should rather think I was! I'm simply an +inconsiderable unit in the population of the vastest city in the world; +or, rather, not a unit--a cipher. And, don't you see, a man to be worthy +of your exalted kinswoman ought to be a celebrity. There are plenty of +them about." + +"What meanest thou by a celebrity?" inquired Fakrash, falling into the +trap more readily than Horace had ventured to hope. + +"Oh, well, a distinguished person, whose name is on everybody's lips, +who is honoured and praised by all his fellow-citizens. Now, _that_ kind +of man no Jinneeyeh could look down upon." + +"I perceive," said Fakrash, thoughtfully. "Yes, I was in danger of +committing a rash action. How do men honour such distinguished +individuals in these days?" + +"They generally overfeed them," said Horace. "In London the highest +honour a hero can be paid is to receive the freedom of the City, which +is only conferred in very exceptional cases, and for some notable +service. But, of course, there are other sorts of celebrities, as you +could see if you glanced through the society papers." + +"I cannot believe that thou, who seemest a gracious and talented young +man, can be indeed so obscure as thou hast represented." + +"My good sir, any of the flowers that blush unseen in the desert air, or +the gems concealed in ocean caves, so excellently described by one of +our poets, could give me points and a beating in the matter of +notoriety. I'll make you a sporting offer. There are over five million +inhabitants in this London of ours. If you go out into the streets and +ask the first five hundred you meet whether they know me, I don't mind +betting you--what shall I say? a new hat--that you won't find half a +dozen who've ever even heard of my existence. Why not go out and see for +yourself?" + +To his surprise and gratification the Jinnee took this seriously. "I +will go forth and make inquiry," he said, "for I desire further +enlightenment concerning thy statements. But, remember," he added: +"should I still require thee to wed the matchless Bedeea-el-Jemal, and +thou shouldst disobey me, thou wilt bring disaster, not on thine own +head, but on those thou art most desirous of protecting." + +"Yes, so you told me before," said Horace, brusquely. "Good evening." +But Fakrash was already gone. In spite of all he had gone through and +the unknown difficulties before him, Ventimore was seized with what +Uncle Remus calls "a spell of the dry grins" at the thought of the +probable replies that the Jinnee would meet with in the course of his +inquiries. "I'm afraid he won't be particularly impressed by the +politeness of a London crowd," he thought; "but at least they'll +convince him that I am not exactly a prominent citizen. Then he'll give +up this idiotic match of his--I don't know, though. He's such a +pig-headed old fool that he may stick to it all the same. I may find +myself encumbered with a Jinneeyeh bride several centuries my senior +before I know where I am. No, I forget; there's the jealous Jarjarees to +be polished off first. I seem to remember something about a quick-change +combat with an Efreet in the "Arabian Nights." I may as well look it up, +and see what may be in store for me." + +And after dinner he went to his shelves and took down Lane's +three-volume edition of "The Arabian Nights," which he set himself to +study with a new interest. It was long since he had looked into these +wondrous tales, old beyond all human calculation, and fresher, even now, +than the most modern of successful romances. After all, he was tempted +to think, they might possess quite as much historical value as many +works with graver pretentions to accuracy. + +He found a full account of the combat with the Efreet in "The Story of +the Second Royal Mendicant" in the first volume, and was unpleasantly +surprised to discover that the Efreet's name was actually given as +"Jarjarees, the son of Rejmoos, the son of Iblees"--evidently the same +person to whom Fakrash had referred as his bitterest foe. He was +described as "of hideous aspect," and had, it seemed, not only carried +off the daughter of the Lord of the Ebony Island on her wedding night, +but, on discovering her in the society of the Royal Mendicant, had +revenged himself by striking off her hands, her feet, and her head, and +transforming his human rival into an ape. "Between this fellow and old +Fakrash," he reflected ruefully, at this point, "I seem likely to have a +fairly lively time of it!" + +He read on till he reached the memorable encounter between the King's +daughter and Jarjarees, who presented himself "in a most hideous shape, +with hands like winnowing forks, and legs like masts, and eyes like +burning torches"--which was calculated to unnerve the stoutest novice. +The Efreet began by transforming himself from a lion to a scorpion, upon +which the Princess became a serpent; then he changed to an eagle, and +she to a vulture; he to a black cat, and she to a cock; he to a fish, +and she to a larger fish still. + +"If Fakrash can shove me through all that without a fatal hitch +somewhere," Ventimore told himself, "I shall be agreeably disappointed +in him," But, after reading a few more lines, he cheered up. For the +Efreet finished as a flame, and the Princess as a "body of fire." "And +when we looked towards him," continued the narrator, "we perceived that +he had become a heap of ashes." + +"Come," said Horace to himself, "that puts Jarjarees out of action, any +way! The odd thing is that Fakrash should never have heard of it." + +But, as he saw on reflection, it was not so very odd, after all, as the +incident had probably happened after the Jinnee had been consigned to +his brass bottle, where intelligence of any kind would be most unlikely +to reach him. + +He worked steadily through the whole of the second volume and part of +the third; but, although he picked up a certain amount of information +upon Oriental habits and modes of thought and speech which might come in +useful later, it was not until he arrived at the 24th Chapter of the +third volume that his interest really revived. + +For the 24th Chapter contained "The Story of Seyf-el-Mulook and +Bedeea-el-Jemal," and it was only natural that he should be anxious to +know all that there was to know concerning the antecedents of one who +might be his _fiancee_ before long. He read eagerly. + +Bedeea, it appeared, was the lovely daughter of Shahyal, one of the +Kings of the Believing Jann; her father--not Fakrash himself, as the +Jinnee had incorrectly represented--had offered her in marriage to no +less a personage than King Solomon himself, who, however, had preferred +the Queen of Sheba. Seyf, the son of the King of Egypt, afterwards fell +desperately in love with Bedeea, but she and her grandmother both +declared that between mankind and the Jann there could be no agreement. + +"And Seyf was a King's son!" commented Horace. "I needn't alarm myself. +She wouldn't be likely to have anything to say to _me_. It's just as I +told Fakrash." + +His heart grew lighter still as he came to the end, for he learnt that, +after many adventures which need not be mentioned here, the devoted Seyf +did actually succeed in gaining the proud Bedeea as his wife. "Even +Fakrash could not propose to marry me to some one who has a husband +already," he thought. "Still, she _may_ be a widow!" + +To his relief, however, the conclusion ran thus; "Seyf-el-Mulook lived +with Bedeea-el-Jemal a most pleasant and agreeable life ... until they +were visited by the terminator of delights and the separator of +companions." + +"If that means anything at all," he reasoned, "it means that Seyf and +Bedeea are both deceased. Even Jinneeyeh seem to be mortal. Or perhaps +she became so by marrying a mortal; I dare say that Fakrash himself +wouldn't have lasted all this time if he hadn't been bottled, like a +tinned tomato. But I'm glad I found this out, because Fakrash is +evidently unaware of it, and, if he _should_ persist in any more of this +nonsense, I think I see my way now to getting the better of him." + +So, with renewed hope and in vastly improved spirits, he went to bed and +was soon sound asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +BLUSHING HONOURS + + +It was rather late the next morning when Ventimore opened his eyes, to +discover the Jinnee standing by the foot of his bed. "Oh, it's _you_, is +it?" he said sleepily. "How did you--a--get on last night?" + +"I gained such information as I desired," said Fakrash, guardedly; "and +now, for the last time, I am come to ask thee whether thou wilt still +persist in refusing to wed the illustrious Bedeea-el-Jemal? And have a +care how thou answerest." + +"So you haven't given up the idea?" said Horace. "Well, since you make +such a point of it, I'll meet you as far as this. If you produce the +lady, and she consents to marry me, I won't decline the honour. But +there's one condition I really _must_ insist on." + +"It is not for thee to make stipulations. Still, yet this once I will +hear thee." + +"I'm sure you'll see that it's only fair. Supposing, for any reason, you +can't persuade the Princess to meet me within a reasonable time--shall +we say a week?----" + +"Thou shalt be admitted to her presence within twenty-four hours," said +the Jinnee. + +"That's better still. Then, if I don't see her within twenty-four hours, +I am to be at liberty to infer that the negotiations are off, and I may +marry anybody else I please, without any opposition from you? Is that +understood?" + +"It is agreed," said Fakrash, "for I am confident that Bedeea will +accept thee joyfully." + +"We shall see," said Horace. "But it might be as well if you went and +prepared her a little. I suppose you know where to find her--and you've +only twenty-four hours, you know." + +"More than is needed," answered the Jinnee, with such childlike +confidence, that Horace felt almost ashamed of so easy a victory. "But +the sun is already high. Arise, my son, put on these robes"--and with +this he flung on the bed the magnificent raiment which Ventimore had +last worn on the night of his disastrous entertainment--"and when thou +hast broken thy fast, prepare to accompany me." + +"Before I agree to that," said Horace, sitting up in bed, "I should like +to know where you're taking me to." + +"Obey me without demur," said Fakrash, "or thou knowest the +consequences." + +It seemed to Horace that it was as well to humour him, and he got up +accordingly, washed and shaved, and, putting on his dazzling robe of +cloth-of-gold thickly sewn with gems, he joined Fakrash--who, by the +way, was similarly, if less gorgeously, arrayed--in the sitting-room, in +a state of some mystification. + +"Eat quickly," commanded the Jinnee, "for the time is short." And +Horace, after hastily disposing of a cold poached egg and a cup of +coffee, happened to go to the windows. + +"Good Heavens!" he cried. "What does all this mean?" + +He might well ask. On the opposite side of the road, by the railings of +the square, a large crowd had collected, all staring at the house in +eager expectation. As they caught sight of him they raised a cheer, +which caused him to retreat in confusion, but not before he had seen a +great golden chariot with six magnificent coal-black horses, and a suite +of swarthy attendants in barbaric liveries, standing by the pavement +below. "Whose carriage is that?" he asked. + +"It belongs to thee," said the Jinnee; "descend then, and make thy +progress in it through the City." + +"I will not," said Horace. "Even to oblige you I simply can't drive +along the streets in a thing like the band-chariot of a travelling +circus." + +"It is necessary," declared Fakrash. "Must I again recall to thee the +penalty of disobedience?" + +"Oh, very well," said Horace, irritably. "If you insist on my making a +fool of myself, I suppose I must. But where am I to drive, and why?" + +"That," replied Fakrash, "thou shalt discover at the fitting moment." +And so, amidst the shouts of the spectators, Ventimore climbed up into +the strange-looking vehicle, while the Jinnee took his seat by his side. +Horace had a parting glimpse of Mr. and Mrs. Rapkin's respective noses +flattened against the basement window, and then two dusky slaves mounted +to a seat at the back of the chariot, and the horses started off at a +stately trot in the direction of Rochester Row. + +"I think you might tell me what all this means," he said. "You've no +conception what an ass I feel, stuck up here like this!" + +"Dismiss bashfulness from thee, since all this is designed to render +thee more acceptable in the eyes of the Princess Bedeea," said the +Jinnee. + +Horace said no more, though he could not but think that this parade +would be thrown away. + +But as they turned into Victoria Street and seemed to be heading +straight for the Abbey, a horrible thought occurred to him. After all, +his only authority for the marriage and decease of Bedeea was the +"Arabian Nights," which was not unimpeachable evidence. What if she were +alive and waiting for the arrival of the bridegroom? No one but Fakrash +would have conceived such an idea as marrying him to a Jinneeyeh in +Westminster Abbey; but he was capable of any extravagance, and there +were apparently no limits to his power. + +"Mr. Fakrash," he said hoarsely, "surely this isn't my--my wedding day? +You're not going to have the ceremony _there_?" + +"Nay," said the Jinnee, "be not impatient. For this edifice would be +totally unfitted for the celebration of such nuptials as thine." + +As he spoke, the chariot left the Abbey on the right and turned down the +Embankment. The relief was so intense that Horace's spirits rose +irrepressibly. It was absurd to suppose that even Fakrash could have +arranged the ceremony in so short a time. He was merely being taken for +a drive, and fortunately his best friends could not recognise him in his +Oriental disguise. And it was a glorious morning, with a touch of frost +in the air and a sky of streaky turquoise and pale golden clouds; the +broad river glittered in the sunshine; the pavements were lined with +admiring crowds, and the carriage rolled on amidst frantic enthusiasm, +like some triumphal car. + +"How they're cheering us!" said Horace. "Why, they couldn't make more +row for the Lord Mayor himself." + +"What is this Lord Mayor of whom thou speakest?" inquired Fakrash. + +"The Lord Mayor?" said Horace. "Oh, he's unique. There's nobody in the +world quite like him. He administers the law, and if there's any +distress in any part of the earth he relieves it. He entertains monarchs +and Princes and all kinds of potentates at his banquets, and altogether +he's a tremendous swell." + +"Hath he dominion over the earth and the air and all that is therein?" + +"Within his own precincts, I believe he has," said Horace, rather +lazily, "but I really don't know precisely how wide his powers are." He +was vainly trying to recollect whether such matters as sky-signs, +telephones, and telegraphs in the City were within the Lord Mayor's +jurisdiction or the County Council's. + +Fakrash remained silent just as they were driving underneath Charing +Cross Railway Bridge, when he started perceptibly at the thunder of the +trains overhead and the piercing whistles of the engines. "Tell me," he +said, clutching Horace by the arm, "what meaneth this?" + +"You don't mean to say," said Horace, "that you have been about London +all these days, and never noticed things like these before?" + +"Till now," said the Jinnee, "I have had no leisure to observe them and +discover their nature." + +"Well," said Horace, anxious to let the Jinnee see that he had not the +monopoly of miracles, "since your days we have discovered how to tame or +chain the great forces of Nature and compel them to do our will. We +control the Spirits of Earth, Air, Fire, and Water, and make them give +us light and heat, carry our messages, fight our quarrels for us, +transport us wherever we wish to go, with a certainty and precision that +throw even your performances, my dear sir, entirely into the shade." + +Considering what a very large majority of civilised persons would be as +powerless to construct the most elementary machine as to create the +humblest kind of horse, it is not a little odd how complacently we +credit ourselves with all the latest achievements of our generation. +Most of us accept the amazement of the simple-minded barbarian on his +first introduction to modern inventions as a gratifying personal +tribute: we feel a certain superiority, even if we magnanimously refrain +from boastfulness. And yet our own particular share in these discoveries +is limited to making use of them under expert guidance, which any +barbarian, after overcoming his first terror, is quite as competent to +do as we are. + +It is a harmless vanity enough, and especially pardonable in Ventimore's +case, when it was so desirable to correct any tendency to "uppishness" +on the part of the Jinnee. + +"And doth the Lord Mayor dispose of these forces at his will?" inquired +Fakrash, on whom Ventimore's explanation had evidently produced some +impression. + +"Certainly," said Horace; "whenever he has occasion." + +The Jinnee seemed engrossed in his own thoughts, for he said no more +just then. + +They were now nearing St. Paul's Cathedral, and Horace's first suspicion +returned with double force. + +"Mr. Fakrash, answer me," he said. "Is this my wedding day or not? If it +is, it's time I was told!" + +"Not yet," said the Jinnee, enigmatically, and indeed it proved to be +another false alarm, for they turned down Cannon Street and towards the +Mansion House. + +"Perhaps you can tell me why we're going through Victoria Street, and +what all this crowd has come out for?" asked Ventimore. For the throng +was denser than ever; the people surged and swayed in serried ranks +behind the City police, and gazed with a wonder and awe that for once +seemed to have entirely silenced the Cockney instinct of _persiflage_. + +"For what else but to do thee honour?" answered Fakrash. + +"What bosh!" said Horace. "They mistake me for the Shah or somebody--and +no wonder, in this get-up." + +"Not so," said the Jinnee. "Thy names are familiar to them." + +Horace glanced up at the hastily improvised decorations; on one large +strip of bunting which spanned the street he read: "Welcome to the +City's most distinguished guest!" "They can't mean me," he thought; and +then another legend caught his eye: "Well done, Ventimore!" And an +enthusiastic householder next door had burst into poetry and displayed +the couplet-- + + + "Would we had twenty more + Like Horace Ventimore!" + + +"They _do_ mean me!" he exclaimed. "Now, Mr. Fakrash, _will_ you kindly +explain what tomfoolery you've been up to now? I know you're at the +bottom of this business." + +It struck him that the Jinnee was slightly embarrassed. "Didst thou not +say," he replied, "that he who should receive the freedom of the City +from his fellow-men would be worthy of Bedeea-el-Jemal?" + +"I may have said something of the sort. But, good heavens! you don't +mean that you have contrived that _I_ should receive the freedom of the +City?" + +"It was the easiest affair possible," said the Jinnee, but he did not +attempt to meet Horace's eye. + +"Was it, though?" said Horace, in a white rage. "I don't want to be +inquisitive, but I should like to know what I've done to deserve it?" + +"Why trouble thyself with the reason? Let it suffice thee that such +honour is bestowed upon thee." + +By this time the chariot had crossed Cheapside and was entering King +Street. + +"This really won't do!" urged Horace. "It's not fair to me. Either I've +done something, or you must have made the Corporation _believe_ I've +done something, to be received like this. And, as we shall be in the +Guildhall in a very few seconds, you may as well tell me what it is!" + +"Regarding that matter," replied the Jinnee, in some confusion, "I am +truly as ignorant as thyself." + +As he spoke they drove through some temporary wooden gates into the +courtyard, where the Honourable Artillery Company presented arms to +them, and the carriage drew up before a large marquee decorated with +shields and clustered banners. + +"Well, Mr. Fakrash," said Horace, with suppressed fury, as he alighted, +"you have surpassed yourself this time. You've got me into a nice +scrape, and you'll have to pull me through it as well as you can." + +"Have no uneasiness," said the Jinnee, as he accompanied his _protege_ +into the marquee, which was brilliant with pretty women in smart frocks, +officers in scarlet tunics and plumed hats, and servants in State +liveries. + +Their entrance was greeted by a politely-subdued buzz of applause and +admiration, and an official, who introduced himself as the Prime Warden +of the Candlestick-makers' Company, advanced to meet them. "The Lord +Mayor will receive you in the library," he said. "If you will have the +kindness to follow me----" + +Horace followed him mechanically. "I'm in for it now," he thought, +"whatever it is. If I can only trust Fakrash to back me up--but I'm +hanged if I don't believe he's more nervous than I am!" + +As they came into the noble Library of the Guildhall a fine string band +struck up, and Horace, with the Jinnee in his rear, made his way through +a lane of distinguished spectators towards a dais, on the steps of +which, in his gold-trimmed robes and black-feather hat, stood the Lord +Mayor, with his sword and mace-bearers on either hand, and behind him a +row of beaming sheriffs. + +A truly stately and imposing figure did the Chief Magistrate for that +particular year present: tall, dignified, with a lofty forehead whose +polished temples reflected the light, an aquiline nose, and piercing +black eyes under heavy white eyebrows, a frosty pink in his wrinkled +cheeks, and a flowing silver beard with a touch of gold still lingering +under the lower lip: he seemed, as he stood there, a worthy +representative of the greatest and richest city in the world. + +Horace approached the steps with an unpleasant sensation of weakness at +the knees, and no sort of idea what he was expected to do or say when he +arrived. + +And, in his perplexity, he turned for support and guidance to his +self-constituted mentor--only to discover that the Jinnee, whose +short-sightedness and ignorance had planted him in this present false +position, had mysteriously and perfidiously disappeared, and left him to +grapple with the situation single-handed. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A KILLING FROST + + +Fortunately for Ventimore, the momentary dismay he had felt on +finding himself deserted by his unfathomable Jinnee at the very +outset of the ceremony passed unnoticed, as the Prime Warden of the +Candlestick-makers' Company immediately came to his rescue by briefly +introducing him to the Lord Mayor, who, with dignified courtesy, had +descended to the lowest step of the dais to receive him. + +"Mr. Ventimore," said the Chief Magistrate, cordially, as he pressed +Horace's hand, "you must allow me to say that I consider this one of the +greatest privileges--if not _the_ greatest privilege--that have fallen +to my lot during a term of office in which I have had the honour of +welcoming more than the usual number of illustrious visitors." + +"My Lord Mayor," said Horace, with absolute sincerity, "you really +overwhelm me. I--I only wish I could feel that I had done anything to +deserve this--this magnificent compliment!" + +"Ah!" replied the Lord Mayor, in a paternally rallying tone. "Modest, my +dear sir, I perceive. Like all truly great men! A most admirable trait! +Permit me to present you to the Sheriffs." + +The Sheriffs appeared highly delighted. Horace shook hands with both of +them; indeed, in the flurry of the moment he very nearly offered to do +so with the Sword and Mace bearers as well, but their hands were, as it +happened, otherwise engaged. + +"The actual presentation," said the Lord Mayor, "takes place in the +Great Hall, as you are doubtless aware." + +"I--I have been given to understand so," said Horace, with a sinking +heart--for he had begun to hope that the worst was over. + +"But before we adjourn," said his host, "you will let me tempt you to +partake of some slight refreshment--just a snack?" + +Horace was not hungry, but it occurred to him that he might get through +the ceremony with more credit after a glass of champagne; so he accepted +the invitation, and was conducted to an extemporised buffet at one end +of the Library, where he fortified himself for the impending ordeal with +a _caviare_ sandwich and a bumper of the driest champagne in the +Corporation cellars. + +"They talk of abolishing us," said the Lord Mayor, as he took an anchovy +on toast; "but I maintain, Mr. Ventimore--I maintain that we, with our +ancient customs, our time-honoured traditions, form a link with the +past, which a wise statesman will preserve, if I may employ a somewhat +vulgar term, untinkered with." + +Horace agreed, remembering a link with a far more ancient past with +which he devoutly wished he had refrained from tinkering. + +"Talking of ancient customs," the Lord Mayor continued, with an odd +blend of pride and apology, "you will shortly have an illustration of +our antiquated procedure, which may impress you as quaint." + +Horace, feeling absolutely idiotic, murmured that he felt sure it would +do that. + +"Before presenting you for the freedom, the Prime Warden and five +officials of the Candlestick-makers' Company will give their testimony +as compurgators in your favour, making oath that you are 'a man of good +name and fame,' and that (you will be amused at this, Mr. +Ventimore)--that you 'do desire the freedom of this city, whereby to +defraud the Queen or the City.' Ha, ha! Curious way of putting it, is it +not?" + +"Very," said Horace, guiltily, and not a little concerned on the +official's account. + +"A mere form!" said the Lord Mayor; "but I for one, Mr. Ventimore--I for +one should be sorry to see the picturesque old practices die out. To my +mind," he added, as he finished a _pate de foie gras_ sandwich, "the +modern impatience to sweep away all the ancient landmarks (whether they +be superannuated or not) is one of the most disquieting symptoms of the +age. You won't have any more champagne? Then I think we had better be +making our way to the Great Hall for the Event of the Day." + +"I'm afraid," said Horace, with a sudden consciousness of his +incongruously Oriental attire--"I'm afraid this is not quite the sort of +dress for such a ceremony. If I had known----" + +"Now, don't say another word!" said the Lord Mayor. "Your costume is +very nice--very nice indeed, and--and most appropriate, I am sure. But I +see the City Marshal is waiting for us to head the procession. Shall we +lead the way?" + +The band struck up the March of the Priests from _Athalie_, and Horace, +his head in a whirl, walked with his host, followed by the City Lands +Committee, the Sheriffs, and other dignitaries, through the Art Gallery +and into the Great Hall, where their entrance was heralded by a flourish +of trumpets. + +The Hall was crowded, and Ventimore found himself the object of a +popular demonstration which would have filled him with joy and pride if +he could only have felt that he had done anything whatever to justify +it, for it was ridiculous to suppose that he had rendered himself a +public benefactor by restoring a convicted Jinnee to freedom and society +generally. + +His only consolation was that the English are a race not given to +effusiveness without very good reason, and that before the ceremony was +over he would be enabled to gather what were the particular services +which had excited such unbounded enthusiasm. + +Meanwhile he stood there on the crimson-draped and flower-bedecked dais, +bowing repeatedly, and trusting that he did not look so forlornly +foolish as he felt. A long shaft of sunlight struck down between the +Gothic rafters, and dappled the brown stone walls with patches of gold; +the electric lights in the big hooped chandeliers showed pale and feeble +against the subdued glow of the stained glass; the air was heavy with +the scent of flowers and essences. Then there was a rustle of +expectation in the audience, and a pause, in which it seemed to Horace +that everybody on the dais was almost as nervous and at a loss what to +do next as he was himself. He wished with all his soul that they would +hurry the ceremony through, anyhow, and let him go. + +At length the proceedings began by a sort of solemn affectation of +having merely met there for the ordinary business of the day, which to +Horace just then seemed childish in the extreme; it was resolved that +"items 1 to 4 on the agenda need not be discussed," which brought them +to item 5. + +Item 5 was a resolution, read by the Town Clerk, that "the freedom of +the City should be presented to Horace Ventimore, Esq., Citizen and +Candlestick-maker" (which last Horace was not aware of being, but +supposed vaguely that it had been somehow managed while he was at the +buffet in the Library), "in recognition of his services"--the resolution +ran, and Horace listened with all his ears--"especially in connection +with ..." It was most unfortunate--but at this precise point the +official was seized with an attack of coughing, in which all was lost +but the conclusion of the sentence, " ... that have justly entitled him +to the gratitude and admiration of his fellow-countrymen." + +Then the six compurgators came forward and vouched for Ventimore's +fitness to receive the freedom. He had painful doubts whether they +altogether understood what a responsibility they were undertaking--but +it was too late to warn them and he could only trust that they knew more +of their business than he did. + +After this the City Chamberlain read him an address, to which Horace +listened in resigned bewilderment. The Chamberlain referred to the +unanimity and enthusiasm with which the resolution had been carried, and +said that it was his pleasing and honourable duty, as the mouthpiece of +that ancient City, to address what he described with some inadequacy as +"a few words" to one by adding whose name to their roll of freemen the +Corporation honoured rather themselves than the recipient of their +homage. + +It was flattering, but to Horace's ear the phrases sounded excessive, +almost fulsome--though, of course, that depended very much on what he +had done, which he had still to ascertain. The orator proceeded to read +him the "Illustrious List of London's Roll of Fame," a recital which +made Horace shiver with apprehension. For what names they were! What +glorious deeds they had performed! How was it possible that he--plain +Horace Ventimore, a struggling architect who had missed his one great +chance--could have achieved (especially without even being aware of it) +anything that would not seem ludicrously insignificant by comparison? + +He had a morbid fancy that the marble goddesses, or whoever they were, +at the base of Nelson's monument opposite, were regarding him with stony +disdain and indignation; that the statue of Wellington knew him for an +arrant impostor, and averted his head with cold contempt; and that the +effigy of Lord Mayor Beckford on the right of the dais would come to +life and denounce him in another moment. + +"Turning now to your own distinguished services," he suddenly heard the +City Chamberlain resuming, "you are probably aware, sir, that it is +customary on these occasions to mention specifically the particular +merit which had been deemed worthy of civic recognition." + +Horace was greatly relieved to hear it, for it struck him as a most +sensible and, in his own particular case, essential formality. + +"But, on the present occasion, sir," proceeded the speaker, "I feel, as +all present must feel, that it would be unnecessary--nay, almost +impertinent--were I to weary the public ear by a halting recapitulation +of deeds with which it is already so appreciatively familiar." At this +he was interrupted by deafening and long-continued applause, at the end +of which he continued: "I have only therefore, to greet you in the name +of the Corporation, and to offer you the right hand of fellowship as a +Freeman, and Citizen, and Candlestick-maker of London." + +As he shook hands he presented Horace with a copy of the Oath of +Allegiance, intimating that he was to read it aloud. Naturally, +Ventimore had not the least objection to swear to be good and true to +our Sovereign Lady Queen Victoria, or to be obedient to the Lord Mayor, +and warn him of any conspiracies against the Queen's peace which might +chance to come under his observation; so he took the oath cheerfully +enough, and hoped that this was really the end of the ceremony. + +However, to his great chagrin and apprehension, the Lord Mayor rose with +the evident intention of making a speech. He said that the conclusion of +the City to bestow the highest honour in their gift upon Mr. Horace +Ventimore had been--here he hesitated--somewhat hastily arrived at. +Personally, he would have liked a longer time to prepare, to make the +display less inadequate to, and worthier of, this exceptional occasion. +He thought that was the general feeling. (It evidently was, judging from +the loud and unanimous cheering). However, for reasons which--for +reasons with which they were as well acquainted as himself, the notice +had been short. The Corporation had yielded (as they always did, as it +would always be their pride and pleasure to yield) to popular pressure +which was practically irresistible, and had done the best they could in +the limited--he might almost say the unprecedentedly limited--period +allowed them. The proudest leaf in Mr. Ventimore's chaplet of laurels +to-day was, he would venture to assert, the sight of the extraordinary +enthusiasm and assemblage, not only in that noble hall, but in the +thoroughfares of this mighty Metropolis. Under the circumstances, this +was a marvellous tribute to the admiration and affection which Mr. +Ventimore had succeeded in inspiring in the great heart of the people, +rich and poor, high and low. He would not detain his hearers any longer; +all that remained for him to do was to ask Mr. Ventimore's acceptance of +a golden casket containing the roll of freedom, and he felt sure that +their distinguished guest, before proceeding to inscribe his name on the +register, would oblige them all by some account from his own lips of--of +the events in which he had figured so prominently and so creditably. + +Horace received the casket mechanically; there was a universal cry of +"Speech!" from the audience, to which he replied by shaking his head in +helpless deprecation--but in vain; he found himself irresistibly pressed +towards the rail in front of the dais, and the roar of applause which +greeted him saved him from all necessity of attempting to speak for +nearly two minutes. + +During that interval he had time to clear his brain and think what he +had better do or say in his present unenviable dilemma. For some time +past a suspicion had been growing in his mind, until it had now almost +swollen into certainty. He felt that, before he compromised himself, or +allowed his too generous entertainers to compromise themselves +irretrievably, it was absolutely necessary to ascertain his real +position, and, to do that, he must make some sort of speech. With this +resolve, all his nervousness and embarrassment and indecision melted +away; he faced the assembly coolly and gallantly, convinced that his +best alternative now lay in perfect candour. + +"My Lord Mayor, my lords, ladies, and gentlemen," he began, in a clear +voice which penetrated to the farthest gallery and commanded instant +attention. "If you expect to hear from me any description of what I've +done to be received like this, I'm afraid you will be disappointed. For +my own belief is that I've done nothing whatever." + +There was a general outcry of "No, no!" at this, and a fervid murmur of +protest. + +"It's all very well to say 'No, no,'" said Horace, "and I am extremely +grateful to you all for the interruption. Still, I can only repeat that +I am absolutely unaware of having ever rendered my Country, or this +great City, a single service deserving of the slightest acknowledgment. +I wish I could feel I had--but the truth is that, if I have, the fact +has entirely slipped from my memory." + +Again there were murmurs, this time with a certain under-current of +irritation; and he could hear the Lord Mayor behind him remarking to the +City Chamberlain that this was not at all the kind of speech for the +occasion. + +"I know what you're thinking," said Horace. "You're thinking this is +mock modesty on my part. But it's nothing of the sort. _I_ don't know +what I've done--but I presume you are all better informed. Because the +Corporation wouldn't have given me that very charming casket--you +wouldn't all of you be here like this--unless you were under a strong +impression that I'd done _something_ to deserve it." At this there was a +fresh outburst of applause. "Just so," said Horace, calmly. "Well, now, +will any of you be kind enough to tell me, in a few words, _what_ you +suppose I've done?" + +There was a dead silence, in which every one looked at his or her +neighbour and smiled feebly. + +"My Lord Mayor," continued Horace, "I appeal to you to tell me and this +distinguished assembly why on earth we're all here!" + +The Lord Mayor rose. "I think it sufficient to say," he announced with +dignity, "that the Corporation and myself were unanimously of opinion +that this distinction should be awarded--for reasons which it is +unnecessary and--hum--ha--invidious to enter into here." + +"I am sorry," persisted Horace, "but I must press your lordship for +those reasons. I have an object.... Will the City Chamberlain oblige me, +then?... No? Well, then, the Town Clerk?... No?--it's just as I +suspected: none of you can give me your reasons, and shall I tell you +why? Because there _aren't_ any.... Now, do bear with me for a moment. +I'm quite aware this is very embarrassing for all of you--but remember +that it's infinitely more awkward for _me_! I really cannot accept the +freedom of the City under any suspicion of false pretences. It would be +a poor reward for your hospitality, and base and unpatriotic into the +bargain, to depreciate the value of so great a distinction by permitting +it to be conferred unworthily. If, after you've heard what I am going to +tell you, you still insist on my accepting such an honour, of course I +will not be so ungracious as to refuse it. But I really don't feel that +it would be right to inscribe my name on your Roll of Fame without some +sort of explanation. If I did, I might, for anything I know, +involuntarily be signing the death-warrant of the Corporation!" + +There was a breathless hush upon this; the silence grew so intense that +to borrow a slightly involved metaphor from a distinguished friend of +the writer's, you might have picked up a pin in it! Horace leaned +sideways against the rail in an easy attitude, so as to face the Lord +Mayor, as well as a portion of his audience. + +"Before I go any farther," he said, "will your lordship pardon me if I +suggest that it might be as well to direct that all reporters present +should immediately withdraw?" + +The reporters' table was instantly in a stir of anger, and many of the +guests expressed some dissatisfaction. "We, at least," said the Lord +Mayor, rising, flushed with annoyance, "have no reason to dread +publicity. I decline to make a hole-and-corner affair of this. I shall +give no such orders." + +"Very well," said Horace, when the chorus of approval had subsided. "My +suggestion was made quite as much in the Corporation's interests as +mine. I merely thought that, when you all clearly understood how grossly +you've been deluded, you might prefer to have the details kept out of +the newspapers if possible. But if you particularly want them published +over the whole world, why, of course----" + +An uproar followed here, under cover of which the Lord Mayor contrived +to give orders to have the doors fastened till further directions. + +"Don't make this more difficult and disagreeable for me than it is +already!" said Horace, as soon as he could obtain a hearing again. "You +don't suppose that I should have come here in this Tom-fool's dress, +imposing myself on the hospitality of this great City, if I could have +helped it! If you've been brought here under false pretences, so have I. +If you've been made to look rather foolish, what is _your_ situation to +mine? The fact is, I am the victim of a headstrong force which I am +utterly unable to control...." + +Upon this a fresh uproar arose, and prevented him from continuing for +some time. "I only ask for fair play and a patient hearing!" he pleaded. +"Give me that, and I will undertake to restore you all to good humour +before I have done." + +They calmed down at this appeal, and he was able to proceed. "My case is +simply this," he said. "A little time ago I happened to go to an auction +and buy a large brass bottle...." + +For some inexplicable reason his last words roused the audience to +absolute frenzy; they would not hear anything about the brass bottle. +Every time he attempted to mention it they howled him down, they hissed, +they groaned, they shook their fists; the din was positively deafening. + +Nor was the demonstration confined to the male portion of the assembly. +One lady, indeed, who is a prominent leader in society, but whose name +shall not be divulged here, was so carried away by her feelings as to +hurl a heavy cut-glass bottle of smelling-salts at Horace's offending +head. Fortunately for him, it missed him and only caught one of the +officials (Horace was not in a mood to notice details very accurately, +but he had a notion that it was the City Remembrancer) somewhere about +the region of the watch-pocket. + +"_Will_ you hear me out?" Ventimore shouted. "I'm not trifling. I +haven't told you yet what was inside the bottle. When I opened it, I +found ..." + +He got no farther--for, as the words left his lips, he felt himself +seized by the collar of his robe and lifted off his feet by an agency he +was powerless to resist. + +Up and up he was carried, past the great chandeliers, between the carved +and gilded rafters, pursued by a universal shriek of dismay and horror. +Down below he could see the throng of pale, upturned faces, and hear the +wild screams and laughter of several ladies of great distinction in +violent hysterics. And the next moment he was in the glass lantern, and +the latticed panes gave way like tissue paper as he broke through into +the open air, causing the pigeons on the roof to whirr up in a flutter +of alarm. + +Of course, he knew that it was the Jinnee who was abducting him in this +sensational manner, and he was rather relieved than alarmed by Fakrash's +summary proceeding, for he seemed, for once, to have hit upon the best +way out of a situation that was rapidly becoming impossible. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +HIGH WORDS + + +Once outside in the open air, the Jinnee "towered" like a pheasant shot +through the breast, and Horace closed his eyes with a combined +swing-switchback-and-Channel-passage sensation during a flight which +apparently continued for hours, although in reality it probably did not +occupy more than a very few seconds. His uneasiness was still further +increased by his inability to guess where he was being taken to--for he +felt instinctively that they were not travelling in the direction of +home. + +At last he felt himself set down on some hard, firm surface, and +ventured to open his eyes once more. When he realised where he actually +was, his knees gave way under him, and he was seized with a sudden +giddiness that very nearly made him lose his balance. For he found +himself standing on a sort of narrow ledge or cornice immediately under +the ball at the top of St. Paul's. + +Many feet beneath him spread the dull, leaden summit of the dome, its +raised ridges stretching, like huge serpents over the curve, beyond +which was a glimpse of the green roof of the nave and the two west +towers, with their grey columns and urn-topped buttresses and gilded +pineapples, which shone ruddily in the sun. + +He had an impression of Ludgate Hill and Fleet Street as a deep, winding +ravine, steeped in partial shadow; of long sierras of roofs and +chimney-pots, showing their sharp outlines above mouse-coloured +smoke-wreaths; of the broad, pearl-tinted river, with oily ripples and a +golden glitter where the sunlight touched it; of the gleaming slope of +mud under the wharves and warehouses on the Surrey side; of barges and +steamers moored in black clusters; of a small tug fussing noisily down +the river, leaving a broadening arrow-head in its wake. + +Cautiously he moved round towards the east, where the houses formed a +blurred mosaic of cream, slate, indigo, and dull reds and browns, above +which slender rose-flushed spires and towers pierced the haze, stained +in countless places by pillars of black, grey, and amber smoke, and +lightened by plumes and jets of silvery steam, till all blended by +imperceptible gradations into a sky of tenderest gold slashed with +translucent blue. + +It was a magnificent view, and none the less so because the +indistinctness of all beyond a limited radius made the huge City seem +not only mystical, but absolutely boundless in extent. But although +Ventimore was distinctly conscious of all this, he was scarcely in a +state to appreciate its grandeur just then. He was much too concerned +with wondering why Fakrash had chosen to plant him up there in so +insecure a position, and how he was ever to be rescued from it, since +the Jinnee had apparently disappeared. + +He was not far off, however, for presently Horace saw him stalk round +the narrow cornice with an air of being perfectly at home on it. + +"So there you are!" said Ventimore; "I thought you'd deserted me again. +What have you brought me up here for?" + +"Because I desired to have speech with thee in private," replied the +Jinnee. + +"We're not likely to be intruded on here, certainly," said Horace. "But +isn't it rather exposed, rather public? If we're seen up here, you know, +it will cause a decided sensation." + +"I have laid a spell on all below that they should not raise their +eyes. Be seated, therefore, and hear my words." + +Horace lowered himself carefully to a sitting position, so that his legs +dangled in space, and Fakrash took a seat by his side. "O, most +indiscreet of mankind!" he began, in an aggrieved tone; "thou hast been +near the committal of a great blunder, and doing ill to thyself and to +me!" + +"Well, I _do_ like that!" retorted Horace; "when you let me in for all +that freedom of the City business, and then sneaked off, leaving me to +get out of it the best way I could, and only came back just as I was +about to explain matters, and carried me up through the roof like a sack +of flour. Do you consider that tactful on your part?" + +"Thou hadst drunk wine and permitted it to creep as far as the place of +secrets." + +"Only one glass," said Horace; "and I wanted it, I can assure you. I was +obliged to make a speech to them, and, thanks to you, I was in such a +hole that I saw nothing for it but to tell the truth." + +"Veracity, as thou wilt learn," answered the Jinnee, "is not invariably +the Ship of Safety. Thou wert about to betray the benefactor who +procured for thee such glory and honour as might well cause the +gall-bladder of lions to burst with envy!" + +"If any lion with the least sense of humour could have witnessed the +proceedings," said Ventimore, "he might have burst with +laughter--certainly not envy. Good Lord! Fakrash," he cried, in his +indignation, "I've never felt such an absolute ass in my whole life! If +nothing would satisfy you but my receiving the freedom of the City, you +might at least have contrived some decent excuse for it! But you left +out the only point there was in the whole thing--and all for what?" + +"What doth it signify why the whole populace should come forth to +acclaim thee and do thee honour, so long as they did so?" said Fakrash, +sullenly. "For the report of thy fame would reach Bedeea-el-Jemal." + +"That's just where you're mistaken," said Horace. "If you had not been +in too desperate a hurry to make a few inquiries, you would have found +out that you were taking all this trouble for nothing." + +"How sayest thou?" + +"Well, you would have discovered that the Princess is spared all +temptation to marry beneath her by the fact that she became the bride of +somebody else about thirty centuries ago. She married a mortal, one +Seyf-el-Mulook, a King's son, and they've both been dead a considerable +time--another obstacle to your plans." + +"It is a lie," declared Fakrash. + +"If you will take me back to Vincent Square, I shall be happy to show +you the evidence in your national records," said Horace. "And you may be +glad to know that your old enemy, Mr. Jarjarees, came to a violent end, +after a very sporting encounter with a King's daughter, who, though +proficient in advanced magic, unfortunately perished herself, poor lady, +in the final round." + +"I had intended _thee_ to accomplish his downfall," said Fakrash. + +"I know," said Horace. "It was most thoughtful of you. But I doubt if I +should have done it half as well--and it would have probably cost me an +eye, at the very least. It's better as it is." + +"And how long hast thou known of these things?" + +"Only since last night." + +"Since last night? And thou didst not unfold them unto me till this +instant?" + +"I've had such a busy morning, you see," explained Horace. "There's been +no time." + +"Silly-bearded fool that I was to bring this misbegotten dog into the +august presence of the great Lord Mayor himself (on whom be peace!)," +cried the Jinnee. + +"I object to being referred to as a misbegotten dog," said Horace, "but +with the rest of your remark I entirely concur. I'm afraid the Lord +Mayor is very far from being at peace just now." He pointed to the steep +roof of the Guildhall, with its dormers and fretted pinnacles, and the +slender lantern through which he had so lately made his inglorious exit. +"There's the devil of a row going on under that lantern just now, Mr. +Fakrash, you may depend upon that. They've locked the doors till they +can decide what to do next--which will take them some time. And it's all +your fault!" + +"It was thy doing. Why didst thou dare to inform the Lord Mayor that he +was deceived?" + +"Why? Because I thought he ought to know. Because I was bound, +particularly after my oath of allegiance, to warn him of any conspiracy +against him. Because I was in such a hat. He'll understand all that--he +won't blame _me_ for this business." + +"It is fortunate," observed the Jinnee, "that I flew away with thee +before thou couldst pronounce my name." + +"You gave yourself away," said Horace. "They all saw you, you know. You +weren't flying so particularly fast. They'll recognise you again. If you +_will_ carry off a man from under the Lord Mayor's very nose, and shoot +up through the roof like a rocket with him, you can't expect to escape +some notice. You see, you happen to be the only unbottled Jinnee in this +City." + +Fakrash shifted his seat on the cornice. "I have committed no act of +disrespect unto the Lord Mayor," he said, "therefore he can have no just +cause of anger against me." + +Horace perceived that the Jinnee was not altogether at ease, and pushed +his advantage accordingly. + +"My dear good old friend," he said, "you don't seem to realise yet what +an awful thing you've done. For your own mistaken purposes, you have +compelled the Chief Magistrate and the Corporation of the greatest City +in the world to make themselves hopelessly ridiculous. They'll never +hear the last of this affair. Just look at the crowds waiting patiently +below there. Look at the flags. Think of that gorgeous conveyance of +yours standing outside the Guildhall. Think of the assembly inside--all +the most aristocratic, noble, and distinguished personages in the land," +continued Horace, piling it on as he proceeded; "all collected for what? +To be made fools of by a Jinnee out of a brass bottle!" + +"For their own sakes they will preserve silence," said Fakrash, with a +gleam of unwonted shrewdness. + +"Probably they would hush it up, if they only could," conceded Horace. +"But how _can_ they? What are they to say? What plausible explanation +can they give? Besides, there's the Press: you don't know what the Press +is; but I assure you its power is tremendous--it's simply impossible to +keep anything secret from it nowadays. It has eyes and ears everywhere, +and a thousand tongues. Five minutes after the doors in that hall are +unlocked (and they can't keep them locked _much_ longer) the reporters +will be handing in their special descriptions of you and your latest +vagaries to their respective journals. Within half an hour bills will be +carried through every quarter of London--bills with enormous letters: +'Extraordinary Scene at the Guildhall.' 'Strange End to a Civic +Function.' 'Startling Appearance of an Oriental Genie in the City.' +'Abduction of a Guest of the Lord Mayor.' 'Intense Excitement.' 'Full +Particulars!' And by that time the story will have flashed round the +whole world. 'Keep silence,' indeed! Do you imagine for a moment that +the Lord Mayor, or anybody else concerned, however remotely, will ever +forget, or be allowed to forget, such an outrageous incident as this? If +you do, believe me, you're mistaken." + +"Truly, it would be a terrible thing to incur the wrath of the Lord +Mayor," said the Jinnee, in troubled accents. + +"Awful!" said Horace. "But you seem to have managed it." + +"He weareth round his neck a magic jewel, which giveth him dominion +over devils--is it not so?" + +"You know best," said Horace. + +"It was the splendour of that jewel and the majesty of his countenance +that rendered me afraid to enter his presence, lest he should recognise +me for what I am and command me to obey him, for verily his might is +greater even than Suleyman's, and his hand heavier upon such of the Jinn +as fall into his power!" + +"If that's so," said Horace, "I should strongly advise you to find some +way of putting things straight before it's too late--you've no time to +lose." + +"Thou sayest well," said Fakrash, springing to his feet, and turning his +face towards Cheapside. Horace shuffled himself along the ledge in a +seated position after the Jinnee, and, looking down between his feet, +could just see the tops of the thin and rusty trees in the churchyard, +the black and serried swarms of foreshortened people in the street, and +the scarlet-rimmed mouths of chimney-pots on the tiled roofs below. + +"There is but one remedy I know," said the Jinnee, "and it may be that I +have lost power to perform it. Yet will I make the endeavour." And, +stretching forth his right hand towards the east, he muttered some kind +of command or invocation. + +Horace almost fell off the cornice with apprehension of what might +follow. Would it be a thunderbolt, a plague, some frightful convulsion +of Nature? He felt sure that Fakrash would hesitate at no means, however +violent, of burying all traces of his blunder in oblivion, and very +little hope that, whatever he did, it would prove anything but some +worse indiscretion than his previous performances. + +Happily none of these extreme measures seemed to have occurred to the +Jinnee, though what followed was strange and striking enough. + +For presently, as if in obedience to the Jinnee's weird gesticulations, +a lurid belt of fog came rolling up from the direction of the Royal +Exchange, swallowing up building after building in its rapid course; one +by one the Guildhall, Bow Church, Cheapside itself, and the churchyard +disappeared, and Horace, turning his head to the left, saw the murky +tide sweeping on westward, blotting out Ludgate Hill, the Strand, +Charing Cross, and Westminster--till at last he and Fakrash were alone +above a limitless plain of bituminous cloud, the only living beings +left, as it seemed, in a blank and silent universe. + +"Look again!" said Fakrash, and Horace, looking eastward, saw the spire +of Bow Church, rosy once more, the Guildhall standing clear and intact, +and the streets and house-tops gradually reappearing. Only the flags, +with their unrestful shiver and ripple of colour, had disappeared, and, +with them, the waiting crowds and the mounted constables. The ordinary +traffic of vans, omnibuses, and cabs was proceeding as though it had +never been interrupted--the clank and jingle of harness chains, the +cries and whip-crackings of drivers, rose with curious distinctness +above the incessant trampling roar which is the ground-swell of the +human ocean. + +"That cloud which thou sawest," said Fakrash, "hath swept away with it +all memory of this affair from the minds of every mortal assembled to do +thee honour. See, they go about their several businesses, and all the +past incidents are to them as though they had never been." + +It was not often that Horace could honestly commend any performance of +the Jinnee's, but at this he could not restrain his admiration. "By +Jove!" he said, "that certainly gets the Lord Mayor and everybody else +out of the mess as neatly as possible. I must say, Mr. Fakrash, it's +much the best thing I've seen you do yet." + +"Wait," said the Jinnee, "for presently thou shalt see me perform a yet +more excellent thing." + +There was a most unpleasant green glow in his eyes and a bristle in his +thin beard as he spoke, which suddenly made Horace feel uncomfortable. +He did not like the look of the Jinnee at all. + +"I really think you've done enough for to-day," he said. "And this wind +up here is rather searching. I shan't be sorry to find myself on the +ground again." + +"That," replied the Jinnee, "thou shalt assuredly do before long, O +impudent and deceitful wretch!" And he laid a long, lean hand on +Horace's shoulder. + +"He _is_ put out about something!" thought Ventimore. "But what?" "My +dear sir," he said aloud, "I don't understand this tone of yours. What +have I done to offend you?" + +"Divinely gifted was he who said: 'Beware of losing hearts in +consequence of injury, for the bringing them back after flight is +difficult.'" + +"Excellent!" said Horace. "But I don't quite see the application." + +"The application," explained the Jinnee, "is that I am determined to +cast thee down from here with my own hand!" + +Horace turned faint and dizzy for a moment. Then, by a strong effort of +will, he pulled himself together. "Oh, come now," he said, "you don't +really mean that, you know. After all your kindness! You're much too +good-natured to be capable of anything so atrocious." + +"All pity hath been eradicated from my heart," returned Fakrash. +"Therefore prepare to die, for thou art presently about to perish in the +most unfortunate manner." + +Ventimore could not repress a shudder. Hitherto he had never been able +to take Fakrash quite seriously, in spite of all his supernatural +powers; he had treated him with a half-kindly, half-contemptuous +tolerance, as a well-meaning, but hopelessly incompetent, old foozle. +That the Jinnee should ever become malevolent towards him had never +entered his head till now--and yet he undoubtedly had. How was he to +cajole and disarm this formidable being? He must keep cool and act +promptly, or he would never see Sylvia again. + +As he sat there on the narrow ledge, with a faint and not unpleasant +smell of hops saluting his nostrils from some distant brewery, he tried +hard to collect his thoughts, but could not. He found himself, instead, +idly watching the busy, jostling crowd below, who were all unconscious +of the impending drama so high above them. Just over the rim of the dome +he could see the opaque white top of a lamp on a shelter, where a pigmy +constable stood, directing the traffic. + +Would he look up if Horace called for help? Even if he could, what help +could he render? All he could do would be to keep the crowd back and +send for a covered stretcher. No, he would _not_ dwell on these horrors; +he _must_ fix his mind on some way of circumventing Fakrash. + +How did the people in "The Arabian Nights" manage? The fisherman, for +instance? He persuaded _his_ Jinnee to return to the bottle by +pretending to doubt whether he had ever really been inside it. + +But Fakrash, though simple enough in some respects, was not quite such a +fool as that. Sometimes the Jinn could be mollified and induced to grant +a reprieve by being told stories, one inside the other, like a nest of +Oriental boxes. Unfortunately Fakrash did not seem in the humour for +listening to apologues, and, even if he were, Horace could not think of +or improvise any just then. "Besides," he thought, "I can't sit up here +telling him anecdotes for ever. I'd almost sooner die!" Still, he +remembered that it was generally possible to draw an Arabian Efreet into +discussion: they all loved argument, and had a rough conception of +justice. + +"I think, Mr. Fakrash," he said, "that, in common fairness, I have a +right to know what offence I have committed." + +"To recite thy misdeeds," replied the Jinnee, "would occupy much time." + +"I don't mind that," said Horace, affably. "I can give you as long as +you like. I'm in no sort of a hurry." + +"With me it is otherwise," retorted Fakrash, making a stride towards +him. "Therefore court not life, for thy death hath become unavoidable.' + +"Before we part," said Horace, "you won't refuse to answer one or two +questions?" + +"Didst thou not undertake never to ask any further favour of me? +Moreover, it will avail thee nought. For I am positively determined to +slay thee." + +"I demand it," said Horace, "in the most great name of the Lord Mayor +(on whom be peace!)" + +It was a desperate shot--but it took effect. The Jinnee quailed visibly. + +"Ask, then," he said; "but briefly, for the time groweth short." + +Horace determined to make one last appeal to Fakrash's sense of +gratitude, since it had always seemed the dominant trait in his +character. + +"Well," he said, "but for me, wouldn't you be still in that brass +bottle?" + +"That," replied the Jinnee, "is the very reason why I purpose to destroy +thee!" + +"Oh!" was all Horace could find to say at this most unlooked-for answer. +His sheet anchor, in which he had trusted implicitly, had suddenly +dragged--and he was drifting fast to destruction. + +"Are there any other questions which thou wouldst ask?" inquired the +Jinnee, with grim indulgence; "or wilt thou encounter thy doom without +further procrastination?" + +Horace was determined not to give in just yet; he had a very bad hand, +but he might as well play the game out and trust to luck to gain a stray +trick. + +"I haven't nearly done yet," he said. "And, remember, you've promised to +answer me--in the name of the Lord Mayor!" + +"I will answer one other question, and no more," said the Jinnee, in an +inflexible tone; and Ventimore realised that his fate would depend upon +what he said next. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +A GAME OF BLUFF + + +"Thy second question, O pertinacious one?" said the Jinnee, impatiently. +He was standing with folded arms looking down on Horace, who was still +seated on the narrow cornice, not daring to glance below again, lest he +should lose his head altogether. + +"I'm coming to it," said Ventimore; "I want to know why you should +propose to dash me to pieces in this barbarous way as a return for +letting you out of that bottle. Were you so comfortable in it as all +that?" + +"In the bottle I was at least suffered to rest, and none molested me. +But in releasing me thou didst perfidiously conceal from me that +Suleyman was dead and gone, and that there reigneth one in his stead +mightier a thousand-fold, who afflicteth our race with labours and +tortures exceeding all the punishments of Suleyman." + +"What on earth have you got into your head now? You can't mean the Lord +Mayor?" + +"Whom else?" said the Jinnee, solemnly. "And though, for this once, by a +device I have evaded his vengeance, yet do I know full well that either +by virtue of the magic jewel upon his breast, or through that malignant +monster with the myriad ears and eyes and tongues, which thou callest +'The Press,' I shall inevitably fall into his power before long." + +For the life of him, in spite of his desperate plight, Horace could not +help laughing. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Fakrash," he said, as soon as he +could speak, "but--the Lord Mayor! It's really too absurd. Why, he +wouldn't hurt a hair on a fly's head!" + +"Seek not to deceive me further!" said Fakrash, furiously. "Didst thou +not inform me with thy own mouth that the spirits of Earth, Air, Water, +and Fire were subject to his will? Have I no eyes? Do I not behold from +here the labours of my captive brethren? What are those on yonder +bridges but enslaved Jinn, shrieking and groaning in clanking fetters, +and snorting forth steam, as they drag their wheeled burdens behind +them? Are there not others toiling, with panting efforts, through the +sluggish waters; others again, imprisoned in lofty pillars, from which +the smoke of their breath ascendeth even unto Heaven? Doth not the air +throb and quiver with their restless struggles as they writhe below in +darkness and torment? And thou hast the shamelessness to pretend that +these things are done in the Lord Mayor's own realms without his +knowledge! Verily thou must take me for a fool!" + +"After all," reflected Ventimore, "if he chooses to consider that +railway engines and steamers, and machinery generally, are inhabited by +so many Jinn 'doing time,' it's not to my interest to undeceive +him--indeed, it's quite the contrary!" + +"I wasn't aware the Lord Mayor had so much power as all that," he said; +"but very likely you're right. And if you're so anxious to keep in +favour with him, it would be a great mistake to kill me. That _would_ +annoy him." + +"Not so," said the Jinnee, "for I should declare that thou hadst spoken +slightingly of him in my hearing, and that I had slain thee on that +account." + +"Your proper course," said Horace, "would be to hand me over to him, and +let _him_ deal with the case. Much more regular." + +"That may be," said Fakrash; "but I have conceived so bitter a hatred to +thee by reason of thy insolence and treachery, that I cannot forego the +delight of slaying thee with my own hand." + +"Can't you really?" said Horace, on the verge of despair. "And _then_, +what will you do?" + +"Then," replied the Jinnee, "I shall flee away to Arabia, where I shall +be safe." + +"Don't you be too sure of that!" said Horace. "You see all those wires +stretched on poles down there? Those are the pathways of certain Jinn +known as electric currents, and the Lord Mayor could send a message +along them which would be at Baghdad before you had flown farther than +Folkestone. And I may mention that Arabia is now more or less under +British jurisdiction." + +He was bluffing, of course, for he knew perfectly well that, even if any +extradition treaty could be put in force, the arrest of a Jinnee would +be no easy matter. + +"Thou art of opinion, then, that I should be no safer in mine own +country?" inquired Fakrash. + +"I swear by the name of the Lord Mayor (to whom be all reverence!)" said +Horace, "that there is no land you could fly to where you would be any +safer than you are here." + +"If I were but sealed up in my bottle once more," said the Jinnee, +"would not even the Lord Mayor have respect unto the seal of Suleyman, +and forbear to disturb me?" + +"Why, of course he would!" cried Horace, hardly daring to believe his +ears. "That's really a brilliant idea of yours, my dear Mr. Fakrash." + +"And in the bottle I should not be compelled to work," continued the +Jinnee. "For labour of all kinds hath ever been abhorrent unto me." + +"I can quite understand that," said Horace, sympathetically. "Just +imagine your having to drag an excursion train to the seaside on a Bank +Holiday, or being condemned to print off a cheap comic paper, or even +the _War Cry_, when you might be leading a snug and idle existence in +your bottle. If I were you, I should go and get inside it at once. +Suppose we go back to Vincent Square and find it?" + +"I shall return to the bottle, since in that alone there is safety," +said the Jinnee. "But I shall return alone." + +"Alone!" cried Horace. "You're not going to leave me stuck up here all +by myself?" + +"By no means," said the Jinnee. "Have I not said that I am about to cast +thee to perdition? Too long have I delayed in the accomplishment of this +duty." + +Once more Horace gave himself up for lost; which was doubly bitter, just +when he had begun to consider that the danger was past. But even then, +he was determined to fight to the last. + +"One moment," he said. "Of course, if you've set your heart on pitching +me over, you must. Only--I may be quite mistaken--but I don't quite see +how you are going to manage the rest of your programme without me, +that's all." + +"O deficient in intelligence!" cried the Jinnee. "What assistance canst +thou render me?" + +"Well," said Horace, "of course, you can get into the bottle +alone--that's simple enough. But the difficulty I see is this: Are you +quite sure you can put the cap on yourself--from the _inside_, you +know?" If he can, he thought, "I'm done for!" + +"That," began the Jinnee, with his usual confidence "will be the easiest +of--nay," he corrected himself, "there be things that not even the Jinn +themselves can accomplish, and one of them is to seal a vessel while +remaining in it. I am indebted to thee for reminding me thereof." + +"Not at all," said Ventimore. "I shall be delighted to come and seal you +up comfortably myself." + +"Again thou speakest folly," exclaimed the Jinnee. "How canst thou seal +me up after I have dashed thee into a thousand pieces?" + +"That," said Horace, with all the urbanity he could command, "is +precisely the difficulty I was trying to convey." + +"There will be no difficulty, for as soon as I am in the bottle I shall +summon certain inferior Efreets, and they will replace the seal." + +"When you are once in the bottle," said Horace, at a venture, "you +probably won't be in a position to summon anybody." + +"_Before_ I get into the bottle, then!" said the Jinnee, impatiently. +"Thou dost but juggle with words!" + +"But about those Efreets," persisted Horace. "You know what Efreets +_are_! How can you be sure that, when they've got you in the bottle, +they won't hand you over to the Lord Mayor? I shouldn't trust them +myself--but, of course, you know best!" + +"Whom shall I trust, then?" said Fakrash, frowning. + +"I'm sure I don't know. It's rather a pity you're so determined to +destroy me, because, as it happens, I'm just the one person living who +could be depended on to seal you up and keep your secret. However, +that's your affair. After all, why should I care what becomes of you? I +shan't be there!" + +"Even at this hour," said the Jinnee, undecidedly, "I might find it in +my heart to spare thee, were I but sure that thou wouldst be faithful +unto me!" + +"I should have thought I was more to be trusted than one of your beastly +Efreets!" said Horace, with well-assumed indifference. "But never mind, +I don't know that I care, after all. I've nothing particular to live for +now. You've ruined me pretty thoroughly, and you may as well finish your +work. I've a good mind to jump over, and save you the trouble. Perhaps, +when you see me bouncing down that dome, you'll be sorry!" + +"Refrain from rashness!" said the Jinnee, hastily, without suspecting +that Ventimore had no serious intention of carrying out his threat. "If +thou wilt do as thou art bidden, I will not only pardon thee, but grant +thee all that thou desirest." + +"Take me back to Vincent Square first," said Horace. "This is not the +place to discuss business." + +"Thou sayest rightly," replied the Jinnee; "hold fast to my sleeve, and +I will transport thee to thine abode." + +"Not till you promise to play fair," said Horace, pausing on the brink +of the ledge. "Remember, if you let me go now you drop the only friend +you've got in the world!" + +"May I be thy ransom!" replied Fakrash. "There shall not be harmed a +hair of thy head!" + +Even then Horace had his misgivings; but as there was no other way of +getting off that cornice, he decided to take the risk. And, as it +proved, he acted judiciously, for the Jinnee flew to Vincent Square with +honourable precision, and dropped him neatly into the armchair in which +he had little hoped ever to find himself again. + +"I have brought thee hither," said Fakrash, "and yet I am persuaded that +thou art even now devising treachery against me, and wilt betray me if +thou canst." + +Horace was about to assure him once more that no one could be more +anxious than himself to see him safely back in his bottle, when he +recollected that it was impolitic to appear too eager. + +"After the way you've behaved," he said, "I'm not at all sure that I +ought to help you. Still, I said I would, on certain conditions, and +I'll keep my word." + +"Conditions!" thundered the Jinnee. "Wilt thou bargain with me yet +further?" + +"My excellent friend," said Horace quietly, "you know perfectly well +that you can't get yourself safely sealed up again in that bottle +without my assistance. If you don't like my terms, and prefer to take +your chance of finding an Efreet who is willing to brave the Lord Mayor, +well, you've only to say so." + +"I have loaded thee with all manner of riches and favours, and I will +bestow no more upon thee," said the Jinnee, sullenly. "Nay, in token of +my displeasure, I will deprive thee even of such gifts as thou hast +retained." He pointed his grey forefinger at Ventimore, whose turban +and jewelled robes instantly shrivelled into cobwebs and tinder, and +fluttered to the carpet in filmy shreds, leaving him in nothing but his +underclothing. + +"That only shows what a nasty temper you're in," said Horace, blandly, +"and doesn't annoy me in the least. If you'll excuse me, I'll go and put +on some things I can feel more at home in; and perhaps by the time I +return you'll have cooled down." + +He slipped on some clothes hurriedly and re-entered the sitting-room. +"Now, Mr. Fakrash," he said, "we'll have this out. You talk of having +loaded me with benefits. You seem to consider I ought to be grateful to +you. In Heaven's name, for what? I've been as forbearing as possible all +this time, because I gave you credit for meaning well. Now, I'll speak +plainly. I told you from the first, and I tell you now, that I want no +riches nor honours from you. The one real good turn you did me was +bringing me that client, and you spoilt that because you would insist on +building the palace yourself, instead of leaving it to me! As for the +rest--here am I, a ruined and discredited man, with a client who +probably supposes I'm in league with the Devil; with the girl I love, +and might have married, believing that I have left her to marry a +Princess; and her father, unable ever to forgive me for having seen him +as a one-eyed mule. In short, I'm in such a mess all round that I don't +care two straws whether I live or die!" + +"What is all this to me?" said the Jinnee. + +"Only this--that unless you can see your way to putting things straight +for me, I'm hanged if I take the trouble to seal you up in that bottle!" + +"How am _I_ to put things straight for thee?" cried Fakrash, peevishly. + +"If you could make all those people entirely forget that affair in the +Guildhall, you can make my friends forget the brass bottle and +everything connected with it, can't you?" + +"There would be no difficulty in that," Fakrash admitted. + +"Well, do it--and I'll swear to seal you up in the bottle exactly as if +you had never been out of it, and pitch you into the deepest part of the +Thames, where no one will ever disturb you." + +"First produce the bottle, then," said Fakrash, "for I cannot believe +but that thou hast some lurking guile in thy heart." + +"I'll ring for my landlady and have the bottle brought up," said Horace. +"Perhaps that will satisfy you? Stay, you'd better not let her see you." + +"I will render myself invisible," said the Jinnee, suiting the action to +his words. "But beware lest thou play me false," his voice continued, +"for I shall hear thee!" + +"So you've come in, Mr. Ventimore?" said Mrs. Rapkin, as she entered. +"And without the furrin gentleman? I _was_ surprised, and so was Rapkin +the same, to see you ridin' off this morning in the gorgious chariot and +'osses, and dressed up that lovely! 'Depend upon it,' I says to Rapkin, +I says, 'depend upon it, Mr. Ventimore'll be sent for to Buckinham +Pallis, if it ain't Windsor Castle!'" + +"Never mind that now," said Horace, impatiently; "I want that brass +bottle I bought the other day. Bring it up at once, please." + +"I thought you said the other day you never wanted to set eyes on it +again, and I was to do as I pleased with it, sir?" + +"Well, I've changed my mind, so let me have it, quick." + +"I'm sure I'm very sorry, sir, but that you can't, because Rapkin, not +wishful to have the place lumbered up with rubbish, disposed of it on'y +last night to a gentleman as keeps a rag and bone emporium off the +Bridge Road, and 'alf-a-crown was the most he'd give for it, sir." + +"Give me his name," said Horace. + +"Dilger, sir--Emanuel Dilger. When Rapkin comes in I'm sure he'd go +round with pleasure, and see about it, if required." + +"I'll go round myself," said Horace. "It's all right, Mrs. Rapkin, quite +a natural mistake on your part, but--but I happen to want the bottle +again. You needn't stay." + +"O thou smooth-faced and double-tongued one!" said the Jinnee, after she +had gone, as he reappeared to view. "Did I not foresee that thou wouldst +deal crookedly? Restore unto me my bottle!" + +"I'll go and get it at once," said Horace; "I shan't be five minutes." +And he prepared to go. + +"Thou shalt not leave this house," cried Fakrash, "for I perceive +plainly that this is but a device of thine to escape and betray me to +the Press Devil!" + +"If you can't see," said Horace, angrily, "that I'm quite as anxious to +see you safely back in that confounded bottle as ever you can be to get +there, you must be pretty dense! _Can't_ you understand? The bottle's +sold, and I can't buy it back without going out. Don't be so infernally +unreasonable!" + +"Go, then," said the Jinnee, "and I will await thy return here. But know +this: that if thou delayest long or returnest without my bottle, I shall +know that thou art a traitor, and will visit thee and those who are dear +to thee with the most unpleasant punishments!" + +"I'll be back in half an hour, at most," said Horace, feeling that this +would allow him ample margin, and thankful that it did not occur to +Fakrash to go in person. + +He put on his hat, and hurried off in the gathering dusk. He had some +little trouble in finding Mr. Dilger's establishment, which was a dirty, +dusty little place in a back street, with a few deplorable old chairs, +rickety washstands, and rusty fenders outside, and the interior almost +completely blocked by piles of dingy mattresses, empty clock-cases, +tarnished and cracked mirrors, broken lamps, damaged picture-frames, and +everything else which one would imagine could have no possible value +for any human being. But in all this collection of worthless curios the +brass bottle was nowhere to be seen. + +Ventimore went in and found a youth of about thirteen straining his eyes +in the fading light over one of those halfpenny humorous journals which, +thanks to an improved system of education, at least eighty per cent. of +our juvenile population are now enabled to appreciate. + +"I want to see Mr. Dilger," he began. + +"You can't," said the youth. "'Cause he ain't in. He's attending of an +auction." + +"When _will_ he be in, do you know?" + +"Might be back to his tea--but I wasn't to expect him not before +supper." + +"You don't happen to have any old metal bottles--copper or--or brass +would do--for sale?" + +"You don't git at me like that! Bottles is made o' glorss." + +"Well, a jar, then--a big brass pot--anything of that kind?" + +"Don't keep 'em," said the boy, and buried himself once more in his copy +of "Spicy Sniggers." + +"I'll just look round," said Horace, and began to poke about with a +sinking heart, and a horrid dread that he might have come to the wrong +shop, for the big pot-bellied vessel certainly did not seem to be there. +At last, to his unspeakable joy, he discovered it under a piece of +tattered drugget. "Why, this is the sort of thing I meant," he said, +feeling in his pocket and discovering that he had exactly a sovereign. +"How much do you want for it?" + +"I dunno," said the boy. + +"I don't mind three shillings," said Horace, who did not wish to appear +too keen at first. + +"I'll tell the guv'nor when he comes in," was the reply, "and you can +look in later." + +"I want it at once," insisted Horace. "Come, I'll give you three-and-six +for it." + +"It's more than it's wurf," replied the candid youth. + +"Perhaps," said Horace, "but I'm rather pressed for time. If you'll +change this sovereign, I'll take the bottle away with me." + +"You seem uncommon anxious to get 'old on it, mister!" said the boy, +with sudden suspicion. + +"Nonsense!" said Horace. "I live close by, and I thought I might as well +take it, that's all." + +"Oh, if that's all, you can wait till the guv'nor's in." + +"I--I mayn't be passing this way again for some time," said Horace. + +"Bound to be, if you live close by," and the provoking youth returned to +his "Sniggers." + +"Do you call this attending to your master's business?" said Horace. +"Listen to me, you young rascal. I'll give you five shillings for it. +You're not going to be fool enough to refuse an offer like that?" + +"I ain't goin' to be fool enough to refuse it--nor yet I ain't goin' to +be fool enough to take it, 'cause I'm only 'ere to see as nobody don't +come in and sneak fings. I ain't got no authority to sell anyfink, and I +don't know the proice o' nuffink, so there you _'ave_ it." + +"Take the five shillings," said Horace, "and if it's too little I'll +come round and settle with your master later." + +"I thought you said you wasn't likely to be porsin' again? No, mister, +you don't kid me that way!" + +Horace had a mad impulse to snatch up the precious bottle then and there +and make off with it, and might have yielded to the temptation, with +disastrous consequences, had not an elderly man entered the shop at that +moment. He was bent, and wore rather more fluff and flue upon his person +than most well-dressed people would consider necessary, but he came in +with a certain air of authority, nevertheless. + +"Mr. Dilger, sir," piped the youth, "'ere's a gent took a fancy to this +'ere brass pot o' yours. Says he _must_ 'ave it. Five shillings he'd got +to, but I told him he'd 'ave to wait till you come in." + +"Quite right, my lad!" said Mr. Dilger, cocking a watery but sharp old +eye at Horace. "Five shillings! Ah, sir, you can't know much about these +hold brass antiquities to make an orfer like that." + +"I know as much as most people," said Horace. "But let us say six +shillings." + +"Couldn't be done, sir; couldn't indeed. Why, I give a pound for it +myself at Christie's, as sure as I'm standin' 'ere in the presence o' my +Maker, and you a sinner!" he declared impressively, if rather +ambiguously. + +"Your memory is not quite accurate," said Horace. "You bought it last +night from a man of the name of Rapkin, who lets lodgings in Vincent +Square, and you paid exactly half a crown for it." + +"If you say so I dare say it's correct, sir," said Mr. Dilger, without +exhibiting the least confusion. "And if I did buy it off Mr. Rapkin, +he's a respectable party, and ain't likely to have come by it +dishonest." + +"I never said he did. What will you take for the thing?" + +"Well, just look at the work in it. They don't turn out the like o' that +nowadays. Dutch, that is; what they used for to put their milk and +such-like in." + +"Damn it!" said Horace, completely losing his temper. "_I_ know what it +was used for. _Will_ you tell me what you want for it?" + +"I couldn't let a curiosity like that go a penny under thirty +shillings," said Mr. Dilger, affectionately. "It would be robbin' +myself." + +"I'll give you a sovereign for it--there," said Horace. "You know best +what profit that represents. That's my last word." + +"_My_ last word to that, sir, is good hevenin'," said the worthy man. + +"Good evening, then," said Horace, and walked out of the shop; rather to +bring Mr. Dilger to terms than because he really meant to abandon the +bottle, for he dared not go back without it, and he had nothing about +him just then on which he could raise the extra ten shillings, supposing +the dealer refused to trust him for the balance--and the time was +growing dangerously short. + +Fortunately the well-worn ruse succeeded, for Mr. Dilger ran out after +him and laid an unwashed claw upon his coat-sleeve. "Don't go, mister," +he said; "I like to do business if I can; though, 'pon my word and +honour, a sovereign for a work o' art like that! Well, just for luck and +bein' my birthday, we'll call it a deal." + +Horace handed over the coin, which left him with a few pence. "There +ought to be a lid or stopper of some sort," he said suddenly. "What have +you done with that?" + +"No, sir, there you're mistook, you are, indeed. I do assure you you +never see a pot of this partickler pattern with a lid to it. Never!" + +"Oh, don't you, though?" said Horace. "I know better. Never mind," he +said, as he recollected that the seal was in Fakrash's possession. "I'll +take it as it is. Don't trouble to wrap it up. I'm in rather a hurry." + +It was almost dark when he got back to his rooms, where he found the +Jinnee shaking with mingled rage and apprehension. + +"No welcome to thee!" he cried. "Dilatory dog that thou art! Hadst thou +delayed another minute, I would have called down some calamity upon +thee." + +"Well, you need not trouble yourself to do that now," returned +Ventimore. "Here's your bottle, and you can creep into it as soon as you +please." + +"But the seal!" shrieked the Jinnee. "What hast thou done with the seal +which was upon the bottle?" + +"Why, you've got it yourself, of course," said Horace, "in one of your +pockets." + +"O thou of base antecedents!" howled Fakrash, shaking out his flowing +draperies. "How should _I_ have the seal? This is but a fresh device of +thine to undo me!" + +"Don't talk rubbish!" retorted Horace. "You made the Professor give it +up to you yesterday. You must have lost it somewhere or other. Never +mind! I'll get a large cork or bung, which will do just as well. And +I've lots of sealing-wax." + +"I will have no seal but the seal of Suleyman!" declared the Jinnee. +"For with no other will there be security. Verily I believe that that +accursed sage, thy friend, hath contrived by some cunning to get the +seal once more into his hands. I will go at once to his abode and compel +him to restore it." + +"I wouldn't," said Horace, feeling extremely uneasy, for it was +evidently a much simpler thing to let a Jinnee out of a bottle than to +get him in again. "He's quite incapable of taking it. And if you go out +now you'll only make a fuss and attract the attention of the Press, +which I thought you rather wanted to avoid." + +"I shall attire myself in the garments of a mortal--even those I assumed +on a former occasion," said Fakrash, and as he spoke his outer robes +modernised into a frock-coat. "Thus shall I escape attention." + +"Wait one moment," said Horace. "What is that bulge in your +breast-pocket?" + +"Of a truth," said the Jinnee, looking relieved but not a little foolish +as he extracted the object, "it is indeed the seal." + +"You're in such a hurry to think the worst of everybody, you see!" said +Horace. "Now, _do_ try to carry away with you into your seclusion a +better opinion of human nature." + +"Perdition to all the people of this age!" cried Fakrash, re-assuming +his green robe and turban, "for I now put no faith in human beings and +would afflict them all, were not the Lord Mayor (on whom be peace!) +mightier than I. Therefore, while it is yet time, take thou the stopper, +and swear that, after I am in this bottle, thou wilt seal it as before +and cast it into deep waters, where no eye will look upon it more!" + +"With all the pleasure in the world!" said Horace; "only you must keep +_your_ part of the bargain first. You will kindly obliterate all +recollection of yourself and the brass bottle from the minds of every +human being who has had anything to do with you or it." + +"Not so," objected the Jinnee, "for thus wouldst thou forget thy +compact." + +"Oh, very well, leave _me_ out, then," said Horace. "Not that anything +could make me forget _you_!" + +Fakrash swept his right hand round in a half circle. "It is +accomplished," he said. "All recollection of myself and yonder bottle is +now erased from the memories of every one but thyself." + +"But how about my client?" said Horace. "I can't afford to lose _him_, +you know." + +"He shall return unto thee," said the Jinnee, trembling with impatience. +"Now perform thy share." + +Horace had triumphed. It had been a long and desperate duel with this +singular being, who was at once so crafty and so childlike, so credulous +and so suspicious, so benevolent and so malign. Again and again he had +despaired of victory, but he had won at last. In another minute or so +this formidable Jinnee would be safely bottled once more, and powerless +to intermeddle and plague him for the future. + +And yet, in the very moment of triumph, quixotic as such scruples may +seem to some, Ventimore's conscience smote him. He could not help a +certain pity for the old creature, who was shaking there convulsively +prepared to re-enter his bottle-prison rather than incur a wholly +imaginary doom. Fakrash had aged visibly within the last hour; now he +looked even older than his three thousand and odd years. True, he had +led Horace a fearful life of late, but at first, at least, his +intentions had been good. His gratitude, if mistaken in its form, was +the sign of a generous disposition. Not every Jinnee, surely, would +have endeavoured to press untold millions and honours and dignities of +all kinds upon him, in return for a service which most mortals would +have considered amply repaid by a brace of birds and an invitation to an +evening party. + +And how was Horace treating _him_? He was taking what, in his heart, he +felt to be a rather mean advantage of the Jinnee's ignorance of modern +life to cajole him into returning to his captivity. Why not suffer him +to live out the brief remainder of his years (for he could hardly last +more than another century or two at most) in freedom? Fakrash had learnt +his lesson: he was not likely to interfere again in human affairs; he +might find his way back to the Palace of the Mountain of the Clouds and +end his days there, in peaceful enjoyment of the society of such of the +Jinn as might still survive unbottled. + +So, obeying--against his own interests--some kindlier impulse, Horace +made an effort to deter the Jinnee, who was already hovering in air +above the neck of the bottle in a swirl of revolving draperies, like +some blundering old bee vainly endeavouring to hit the opening into his +hive. + +"Mr. Fakrash," he cried, "before you go any farther, listen to me. +There's no real necessity, after all, for you to go back to your bottle. +If you'll only wait a little----" + +But the Jinnee, who had now swelled to gigantic proportions, and whose +form and features were only dimly recognisable through the wreaths of +black vapour in which he was involved, answered him from his pillar of +smoke in a terrible voice. "Wouldst thou still persuade me to linger?" +he cried. "Hold thy peace and be ready to fulfil thine undertaking." + +"But, look here," persisted Horace. "I should feel such a brute if I +sealed you up without telling you----" The whirling and roaring column, +in shape like an inverted cone, was being fast sucked down into the +vessel, till only a semi-materialised but highly infuriated head was +left above the neck of the bottle. + +"Must I tarry," it cried, "till the Lord Mayor arrive with his Memlooks, +and the hour of safety is expired? By my head, if thou delayest another +instant, I will put no more faith in thee! And I will come forth once +more, and afflict thee and thy friends--ay, and all the dwellers in this +accursed city--with the most painful and unheard-of calamities." + +And, with these words, the head sank into the bottle with a loud clap +resembling thunder. + +Horace hesitated no longer. The Jinnee himself had absolved him from all +further scruples; to imperil Sylvia and her parents--not to mention all +London--out of consideration for one obstinate and obnoxious old demon, +would clearly be carrying sentiment much too far. + +Accordingly, he made a rush for the jar and slipped the metal cover over +the mouth of the neck, which was so hot that it blistered his fingers, +and, seizing the poker, he hammered down the secret catch until the lid +fitted as closely as Suleyman himself could have required. + +Then he stuffed the bottle into a kit-bag, adding a few coals to give it +extra weight, and toiled off with it to the nearest steamboat pier, +where he spent his remaining pence in purchasing a ticket to the Temple. + + * * * * * + +Next day the following paragraph appeared in one of the evening papers, +which probably had more space than usual at its disposal: + + + "SINGULAR OCCURRENCE ON A PENNY + STEAMER + +"A gentleman on board one of the Thames steamboats (so we are informed +by an eye-witness) met with a somewhat ludicrous mishap yesterday +evening. It appears that he had with him a small portmanteau, or large +hand-bag, which he was supporting on the rail of the stern bulwark. Just +as the vessel was opposite the Savoy Hotel he incautiously raised his +hand to the brim of his hat, thereby releasing hold of the bag, which +overbalanced itself and fell into the deepest part of the river, where +it instantly sank. The owner (whose carelessness occasioned considerable +amusement to passengers in his immediate vicinity) appeared no little +disconcerted by the oversight, and was not unnaturally reticent as to +the amount of his loss, though he was understood to state that the bag +contained nothing of any great value. However this may be, he has +probably learnt a lesson which will render him more careful in future." + + + + +THE EPILOGUE + + +On a certain evening in May Horace Ventimore dined in a private room at +the Savoy, as one of the guests of Mr. Samuel Wackerbath. In fact, he +might almost be said to be the guest of the evening, as the dinner was +given by way of celebrating the completion of the host's new country +house at Lipsfield, of which Horace was the architect, and also to +congratulate him on his approaching marriage (which was fixed to take +place early in the following month) with Miss Sylvia Futvoye. + +"Quite a small and friendly party!" said Mr. Wackerbath, looking round +on his numerous sons and daughters, as he greeted Horace in the +reception-room. "Only ourselves, you see, Miss Futvoye, a young lady +with whom you are fairly well acquainted, and her people, and an old +schoolfellow of mine and his wife, who are not yet arrived. He's a man +of considerable eminence," he added, with a roll of reflected importance +in his voice; "quite worth your cultivating. Sir Lawrence Pountney, his +name is. I don't know if you remember him, but he discharged the onerous +duties of Lord Mayor of London the year before last, and acquitted +himself very creditably--in fact, he got a baronetcy for it." + +As the year before last was the year in which Horace had paid his +involuntary visit to the Guildhall, he was able to reply with truth that +he _did_ remember Sir Lawrence. + +He was not altogether comfortable when the ex-Lord-Mayor was announced, +for it would have been more than awkward if Sir Lawrence had chanced to +remember _him_. Fortunately, he gave no sign that he did so, though his +manner was graciousness itself. "Delighted, my dear Mr. Ventimore," he +said pressing Horace's hand almost as warmly as he had done that October +day of the dais, "most delighted to make your acquaintance! I am always +glad to meet a rising young man, and I hear that the house you have +designed for my old friend here is a perfect palace--a marvel, sir!" + +"I knew he was my man," declared Mr. Wackerbath, as Horace modestly +disclaimed Sir Lawrence's compliment. "You remember, Pountney, my dear +fellow, that day when we were crossing Westminster Bridge together, and +I was telling you I thought of building? 'Go to one of the leading +men--an R.A. and all that sort of thing,' you said, 'then you'll be sure +of getting your money's worth.' But I said, 'No, I like to choose for +myself; to--ah--exercise my own judgment in these matters. And there's a +young fellow I have in my eye who'll beat 'em all, if he's given the +chance. I'm off to see him now.' And off I went to Great Cloister Street +(for he hadn't those palatial offices of his in Victoria Street at that +time) without losing another instant, and dropped in on him with my +little commission. Didn't I, Ventimore?" + +"You did indeed," said Horace, wondering how far these reminiscences +would go. + +"And," continued Mr. Wackerbath, patting Horace on the shoulder, "from +that day to this I've never had a moment's reason to regret it. We've +worked in perfect sympathy. His ideas coincided with mine. I think he +found that I met him, so to speak, on all fours." + +Ventimore assented, though it struck him that a happier expression +might, and would, have been employed if his client had remembered one +particular interview in which he had not figured to advantage. + +They went in to dinner, in a room sumptuously decorated with panels of +grey-green brocade and softly shaded lamps, and screens of gilded +leather; through the centre of the table rose a tall palm, its boughs +hung with small electric globes like magic fruits. + +"This palm," said the Professor, who was in high good humour, "really +gives quite an Oriental look to the table. Personally, I think we might +reproduce the Arabian style of decoration and arrangement generally in +our homes with great advantage. I often wonder it never occurred to my +future son-in-law there to turn his talents in that direction and design +an Oriental interior for himself. Nothing more comfortable and +luxurious--for a bachelor's purposes." + +"I'm sure," said his wife, "Horace managed to make himself quite +comfortable enough as it was. He has the most delightful rooms in +Vincent Square." Ventimore heard her remark to Sir Lawrence: "I shall +never forget the first time we dined there, just after my daughter and +he were engaged. I was quite astonished: everything was so +perfect--quite simple, you know, but _so_ ingeniously arranged, and his +landlady such an excellent cook, too! Still, of course, in many ways, it +will be nicer for him to have a home of his own." + +"With such a beautiful and charming companion to share it with," said +Sir Lawrence, in his most florid manner, "the--ah--poorest home would +prove a Paradise indeed! And I suppose now, my dear young lady," he +added, raising his voice to address Sylvia, "you are busy making your +future abode as exquisite as taste and research can render it, +ransacking all the furniture shops in London for treasures, and going +about to auctions--or do you--ah--delegate that department to Mr. +Ventimore?" + +"I do go about to old furniture shops, Sir Lawrence," she said, "but not +auctions. I'm afraid I should only get just the thing I didn't want if I +tried to bid.... And," she added, in a lower voice, turning to Horace, +"I don't believe _you_ would be a bit more successful, Horace!" + +"What makes you say that, Sylvia?" he asked, with a start. + +"Why, do you mean to say you've forgotten how you went to that auction +for papa, and came away without having managed to get a single thing?" +she said. "What a short memory you must have!" + +There was only tender mockery in her eyes; absolutely no recollection of +the sinister purchase he had made at that sale, or how nearly it had +separated them for ever. So he hastened to admit that perhaps he had +_not_ been particularly successful at the auction in question. + +Sir Lawrence next addressed him across the table. "I was just telling +Mrs. Futvoye," he said, "how much I regretted that I had not the +privilege of your acquaintance during my year of office. A Lord Mayor, +as you doubtless know, has exceptional facilities for exercising +hospitality, and it would have afforded me real pleasure if your first +visit to the Guildhall could have been paid under my--hm--ha--auspices." + +"You are very kind," said Horace, very much on his guard; "I could not +wish to pay it under better." + +"I flatter myself," said the ex-Lord Mayor, "that, while in office, I +did my humble best to maintain the traditions of the City, and I was +fortunate enough to have the honour of receiving more than the average +number of celebrities as guests. But I had one great disappointment, I +must tell you. It had always been a dream of mine that it might fall to +my lot to present some distinguished fellow-countryman with the freedom +of the City. By some curious chance, when the opportunity seemed about +to occur, the thing was put off and I missed it--missed it by the +nearest hair-breadth!" + +"Ah, well, Sir Lawrence," said Ventimore, "one can't have _everything_!" + +"For my part," put in Lady Pountney, who had only caught a word or two +of her husband's remarks, "what _I_ miss most is having the sentinels +present arms whenever I went out for a drive. They did it so nicely and +respectfully. I confess I enjoyed that. My husband never cared much for +it. Indeed, he wouldn't even use the State coach unless he was +absolutely obliged. He was as obstinate as a mule about it!" + +"I see, Lady Pountney," the Professor put in, "that you share the common +prejudice against mules. It's quite a mistaken one. The mule has never +been properly appreciated in this country. He is really the gentlest and +most docile of creatures!" + +"I can't say I like them myself," said Lady Pountney; "such a mongrel +sort of animal--neither one thing nor the other!" + +"And they're hideous too, Anthony," added his wife. "And not at all +clever!" + +"There you're mistaken, my dear," said the Professor; "they are capable +of almost human intelligence. I have had considerable personal +experience of what a mule can do," he informed Lady Pountney, who seemed +still incredulous. "More than most people indeed, and I can assure you, +my dear Lady Pountney, that they readily adapt themselves to almost any +environment, and will endure the greatest hardships without exhibiting +any signs of distress. I see by your expression, Ventimore, that you +don't agree with me, eh?" + +Horace had to set his teeth hard for a moment, lest he should disgrace +himself by a peal of untimely mirth--but by a strong effort of will he +managed to command his muscles. + +"Well, sir," he said, "I've only chanced to come into close contact with +one mule in my life, and, frankly, I've no desire to repeat the +experience." + +"You happened to come upon an unfavourable specimen, that's all," said +the Professor. "There are exceptions to every rule." + +"This animal," Horace said, "was certainly exceptional enough in every +way." + +"Do tell us all about it," pleaded one of the Miss Wackerbaths, and all +the ladies joined in the entreaty until Horace found himself under the +necessity of improvising a story, which, it must be confessed, fell +exceedingly flat. + +This final ordeal past, he grew silent and thoughtful, as he sat there +by Sylvia's side, looking out through the glazed gallery outside upon +the spring foliage along the Embankment, the opaline river, and the shot +towers and buildings on the opposite bank glowing warm brown against an +evening sky of silvery blue. + +Not for the first time did it seem strange, incredible almost, to him +that all these people should be so utterly without any recollection of +events which surely might have been expected to leave some trace upon +the least retentive memory--and yet it only proved once more how +thoroughly and honourably the old Jinnee, now slumbering placidly in his +bottle deep down in unfathomable mud, opposite the very spot where they +were dining, had fulfilled his last undertaking. + +Fakrash, the brass bottle, and all the fantastic and embarrassing +performances were indeed as totally forgotten as though they had never +been. + + * * * * * + +And it is but too probable that even this modest and veracious account +of them will prove to have been included in the general act of +oblivion--though the author will trust as long as possible that +Fakrash-el-Aamash may have neglected to provide for this particular +case, and that the history of the Brass Bottle may thus be permitted to +linger awhile in the memories of some at least of its readers. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BRASS BOTTLE*** + + +******* This file should be named 30689.txt or 30689.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/0/6/8/30689 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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