THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT 
 
 From the Library of 
 
 Henry Goldman, Ph.D. 
 
 1886-1972
 
 THE BRASS BOTTLE
 
 By F. ANSTEY. 
 
 The Brass Bottle. Illustrated. 121110. 
 
 Cloth, $1.5. 
 Love among the Lions. Illustrated. 
 
 1 2 mo. Cloth, $1.00. 
 Vice Versa; or, A Lesson to Fathers. 
 
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 Baboo Hurry Bungsho Jabberjee, B. A. 
 
 i2mo. Illustrated. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 The Statement of Stella Maberly. 
 
 i6mo. Cloth, $1.35. 
 
 The Giant's Robe. Illustrated, xzmo. 
 
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 The Black Poodle, and Other Stories. 
 
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 Illustrated. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, New York.
 
 Gazing in undisguised astonishment. 
 
 (See pane 130.)
 
 The BRASS 
 BOTTLE 
 
 By 
 
 F . A N S T E Y 
 
 Author of Vice Versa, The Tinted 
 Venus, Love Among the Lions, etc. 
 
 New To rk 
 D. APPLETON tf COMPANY
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1899, 1900, 
 BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY.
 
 Annex 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. HORACE VENTIMORK RECEIVES A COMMISSION 1 
 
 II. A CHEAP LOT 17 
 
 III. AN UNEXPECTED OPENING .... 26 
 
 IV. AT LARGE 46 
 
 V. CARTE BLANCHE 54 
 
 VI. EMBARRAS DE RICHESSES .... 77 
 VII. " GRATITUDE A LIVELY SENSE OF FAVOURS 
 
 TO COME" 95 
 
 VIII. BACHELOR'S QUARTERS 116 
 
 IX. " PERSICOS ODI, PUER, APPARATUS " . . 131 
 
 X. No PLACE LIKE HOME 166 
 
 XI. A FOOL'S PARADISE 178 
 
 XII. THE MESSENGER OF HOPE .... 204 
 
 XIII. A CHOICE OF EVILS 222 
 
 XIV. "SINCE THERE'S NO HELP, COME, LET us KISS 
 
 AND PART " 245 
 
 XV. BLUSHING HONOURS 270 
 
 XVI. A KILLING FROST 283 
 
 XVII. HIGH WORDS 300 
 
 XVHL LETTING HIM GO 318 
 
 THE EPILOGUE 346 
 
 v
 
 THE BEASS BOTTLE 
 
 CHAPTEK I 
 
 HORACE VENTIMOKE 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 morn- 
 ing in August which now seemed so remote and 
 irrecoverable. At this precise time he was wait- 
 ing 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 soli- 
 tary 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 swill of the waves lazily 
 
 l
 
 2 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 lapping against the diving-board from which he 
 had plunged half an hour before; he remem- 
 bered the long swim out to the buoy; the ex- 
 hilarated 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 grav- 
 elled courtyard in front of the hotel with a sud- 
 den 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 unforgetable day, which was supreme 
 among others only a little less perfect, and all 
 now fled forever! 
 
 They had had drawbacks, it was true. Old
 
 HORACE VENTIMORE'S COMMISSION 3 
 
 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 Hor- 
 ace 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 sub- 
 jects; 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 hap- 
 pened to be the father of anybody else. How- 
 ever, 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. 
 
 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
 
 4 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 plane trees stretched their yellowing branches. 
 Every now and then a leaf would abandon its 
 struggle for life in despair, let go its twig, and 
 gyrate slowly down to join its russet brethren 
 on the cobblestones. 
 
 " 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 dif- 
 ference not an unusual sequel to an acquaint- 
 anceship begun in a Continental watering-place. 
 It was difficult to define, but unmistakable a 
 certain formality and constraint on Mrs. Fut- 
 voye's part, and even on Sylvia's, which seemed 
 intended to warn him that it is not every friend- 
 ship that survives the Channel passage. So he 
 had gone away sore at heart, but fully recog- 
 nising that any advances in future must come 
 from their side. They might ask him to din- 
 ner, 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
 
 HORACE VENTIMORE'S COMMISSION 5 
 
 and anything but mirthful laugh, " it's natural 
 enough. Mrs. Futvoye has probably been mak- 
 ing 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 I don't grudge him his success. 
 He's a good fellow though he does build archi- 
 tectural atrocities, and seems 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 ordi- 
 nary self-delusion of an incompetent. Venti- 
 more really had talent above the average, with 
 ideals and ambitions which might under better
 
 6 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 conditions have attained recognition and fulfil- 
 ment before this. 
 
 But he was not quite energetic enough, be- 
 sides being too proud, to push himself into no- 
 tice, 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 re- 
 quire, 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 at- 
 tracted toward him at one time it was not alto- 
 gether incomprehensible. Horace Yentimore 
 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 had a certain distinction, and if there 
 were faint satirical lines about the mouth, they 
 were redeemed by the expression of the gray- 
 blue eyes, which were remarkably frank and 
 pleasant. He was well made, and tall enough 
 to escape all danger of being described as short; 
 light-haired and fair, or rather colourless, of 
 complexion, and he gave the impression of being
 
 HORACE VENTIMORE'S COMMISSION 7 
 
 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 com- 
 municated with Beevor's office, and Beevor him- 
 self, 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 Larch- 
 mere, did you? Because ah, I see you're look- 
 ing 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 look after things, and 
 there's my other house at Fittlesdon. I must 
 go on afterward and set it out, so I shall prob- 
 ably be away some days. I'm taking Harrison 
 down, too. You won't be wanting him, eh ? " 
 
 Yentimore laughed. " I can manage to do 
 nothing without a clerk to help me. Your ne- 
 cessity 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
 
 8 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 Yentimore cheerfully. 
 " Candour's the cement of friendship. Stick 
 it on." 
 
 " Well, I was only going to say that you do 
 yourself no good by all those confoundedly un- 
 conventional 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
 
 HORACE VENTIMORE'S COMMISSION 9 
 
 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? And there's the speci- 
 fication 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 providing sylvan 
 retreats with 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 realized in stone and brick and 
 mortar; no building stood anywhere to bear tes-
 
 10 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 timony 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, how- 
 ever, when he heard a shuffling step on the land- 
 ing, 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 ex- 
 plain 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 legiti- 
 mately his, and was, in fact, no other than Pro- 
 fessor Anthony Futvoye himself. 
 
 The professor was standing in the door : 
 way peering short-sightedly through his convex 
 glasses, his head protruded from his loosely fit- 
 ting great coat with an irresistible suggestion of 
 an inquiring tortoise. To Horace his appear- 
 ance was more welcome than that of the wealthi- 
 est client for why should Sylvia's father take 
 the trouble to pay him this visit unless he still
 
 HORACE VEXTIMORE'S COMMISSION H 
 
 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 pro- 
 fessor might not seem the kind of elderly gen- 
 tleman 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 estab- 
 lishing him in the solitary arm-chair, reserved 
 for hypothetical clients. 
 
 " Not at all. I'm afraid your visit to Cottes- 
 more 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, how- 
 ever, escaped your notice " explained the pro- 
 fessor, scratching his scanty patch of grizzled 
 whisker with a touch of irascibility, " that I my- 
 self 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. Yentimore. I 
 
 never chat. I wanted to see you about a mat- 
 
 2
 
 12 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 ter 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 intrust the work to 
 him! 
 
 But he contrived to subdue any self-betray- 
 ing eagerness, and reply (as he could with per- 
 fect 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 re- 
 quired, he could take it up at once. 
 
 " So much the better," said the professor; 
 " so much the better. Both my wife and daugh- 
 ter 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 can 
 not leave it for one afternoon ' ' 
 
 Evidently it was not a house. Could he 
 be needed to escort them somewhere that after- 
 noon? 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, begin- 
 ning to fumble in all his pockets was he search- 
 ing for a note in Sylvia's hand? " in that case,
 
 HORACE VENTIMORE'S COMMISSION 13 
 
 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 be- 
 half." 
 
 Whatever disappointment Yentimore felt, it 
 may be said to his credit that he allowed no sign 
 of it to appear. " Of course I'll go, with pleas- 
 ure," 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 won- 
 derful 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. Xot that I should trouble you 
 now, only I have to lunch at the Oriental Club, 
 and I've an appointment afterward to examine 
 and report on a recently discussed inscribed cyl- 
 inder 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 cata- 
 logue? . . . 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 Kakada when I was out excavating some
 
 14 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 years ago. He had some official post or other 
 at Cairo, and 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 rea- 
 sonable 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 Ori- 
 ental curios." 
 
 " At St. Luc," said the professor, " you im- 
 pressed me as having, for an amateur, an 
 exceptionally accurate and comprehensive ac- 
 quaintance with Egyptian and Arabian art from 
 the earliest period." (If this were so, Horace 
 could only feel with shame what a fearful hum- 
 bug 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."
 
 HORACE VENTIMORE'S COMMISSION 15 
 
 " "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 considera- 
 tion 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 per- 
 haps 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 bet- 
 ter, and undertook to call and render an account 
 of his stewardship that evening. There re- 
 mained 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 par- 
 ticular moment, the professor extracted a note 
 for that amount from his case and handed it to 
 him with the air of a benevolent person reliev- 
 ing a deserving object. " Don't exceed my lim- 
 its," 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
 
 16 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 don't think I need detain you any longer, espe- 
 cially 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.
 
 CHAPTEK H 
 
 A CHEAP LOT 
 
 IN spite of the fact that it was the luncheon 
 hour when Ventimore reached Hammond's Auc- 
 tion Rooms, he found the big, skylighted gallery 
 where the sale of the furniture and effects of the 
 late General Collingham was proceeding crowd- 
 ed 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 profes- 
 sional dealers, one or two of them women, who 
 sat, paper and pencil in hand, with much the 
 same air of outward apathy and inward concen- 
 tration that may be noticed in the Casino at 
 Monte Carlo. Around them stood a decorous 
 and businesslike crowd, mostly dealers, also 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. 
 
 17
 
 18 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 The October sunshine, striking through the 
 glazed roof, regilded 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 
 underrated the prices they were likely to 
 fetch. 
 
 Yentimore 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 con- 
 solation 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
 
 A CHEAP LOT 19 
 
 themselves with cheap witticisms at every fa- 
 vourable 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 sky- 
 lights had already changed from livid gray 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 a dreamy, inscrutable simper ; 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 authorized to 
 go was two pounds ten; but, so desperately 
 anxious was Yentimore not to return empty- 
 handed that he had made up his mind to bid 
 an extra sovereign if necessary, and say noth- 
 ing about it. 
 
 However, the bowl was put up, and the bid- 
 ding 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
 
 20 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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, be- 
 longed to the late General Collingham. We'll 
 call this No. 253a. Antique brass bottle. Very 
 curious." 
 
 One of the porters carried the bottle in be- 
 tween the tables, and set it down before the 
 dealers at the farther end with a tired non- 
 chalance. 
 
 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 in- 
 crustation that had formed on them, and been 
 partially scraped off. As a piece of bric-a-brac 
 it certainly possessed few attractions, and there
 
 A CHEAP LOT 21 
 
 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 him- 
 self it's not modern rubbish." 
 
 " Make a pretty little ornament for the man- 
 telpiece ! " 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 re- 
 moved 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." 
 
 " Inside that? '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
 
 22 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 great 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 
 scrutinized 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
 
 A CHEAP LOT 23 
 
 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 gen- 
 uine old, though all these fellers are too igno- 
 rant 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 auction- 
 eer 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 re- 
 gaining 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 was 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 cata- 
 logue, while another man nodded at the same 
 time. " Fourteen in two places." Horace
 
 24: THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 raised his catalogue again " I won't go beyond 
 fifteen," he thought. 
 
 " Fifteen. It's against you, sir. Any ad- 
 vance 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! " an- 
 swered the cherubic man. 
 
 " A pound only bid for this grand brass ves- 
 sel," said the auctioneer indifiFerently. "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
 
 A CHEAP LOT 25 
 
 the auctioneer, more in sorrow than in anger 
 and the brass bottle became Ventimore's prop- 
 erty. 
 
 He paid for it, and, since he could hardly 
 walk home nursing a large metal bottle with- 
 out attracting an inconvenient amount of at- 
 tention, directed that it should be sent to his 
 lodgings at Vincent Square. 
 
 But when he was out in the fresh air, walk- 
 ing westward to his club, he found himself won- 
 dering more and more what could have pos- 
 sessed him to throw away a guinea when he 
 had few enough for legitimate expenses on an 
 article of such exceedingly problematical value.
 
 CHAPTER HI 
 
 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 de- 
 termined 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 long- 
 ing whereas he was getting almost reconciled 
 26
 
 AN UNEXPECTED OPENING 27 
 
 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 cata- 
 logue 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 daugh- 
 ter, but if he were, he could make some excuse. 
 They might think it a little odd a little dis- 
 courteous, perhaps; but they would be too re- 
 lieved 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 intensely respectable thoroughfare, 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
 
 28 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 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 apologize," he began, with an in- 
 voluntary stiffness, " for calling at this very 
 unceremonious time; but the fact is, the pro- 
 fessor " 
 
 " I know all about it," interrupted Mrs. Fut- 
 voye brusquely, while her shrewd, muddy gray 
 eyes took him in with a cool stare that was 
 humorously observant without being offensive. 
 " We heard how shamefully my husband abused 
 tyour 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 seems to con-
 
 AN UNEXPECTED OPENING 29 
 
 ceal what other people know perfectly well al- 
 ready. 
 
 " 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 unexpect- 
 edly this evening, but he'll be back before very 
 long, if you don't mind waiting." 
 
 " There's really no need to wait," said Hor- 
 ace, " because this catalogue will tell him every- 
 thing, 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 
 home to look like a museum or an antiquity 
 shop. I'd all the trouble in the world to per- 
 suade 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
 
 30 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 social emergencies, but just now lie was seized 
 with a wild desire to escape, which, to his in- 
 finite 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, wist- 
 fully 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 re-
 
 AN UNEXPECTED OPENING 31 
 
 plies, 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 chest- 
 nut 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 Lon- 
 don everything is so different, you see." 
 
 " Very different." 
 
 "When one meets people abroad who 
 who seem at all inclined to be sociable," she
 
 32 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 continued, " one is so apt to think them pleas- 
 anter 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 pretend- 
 ing 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 1 " 
 
 " 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 trou- 
 ble 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
 
 AN UNEXPECTED OPENING 33 
 
 to, and you thought you might as well be civil; 
 perhaps you really did think it would be pleas- 
 ant 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 Hor- 
 ace 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. How- 
 ever," 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
 
 34: THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 things out. Now perhaps you won't persist in 
 keeping away from us? " 
 
 " I believe," said Horace gloomily, still de- 
 termined 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 youVe 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."
 
 AN UNEXPECTED OPENING 35 
 
 " 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. Your 
 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 en- 
 gaged 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.
 
 36 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " 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 any- 
 body 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. Yentimore, 
 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 occa- 
 sionally, as an ordinary visitor. Only under- 
 stand this until you can prove to my husband's 
 satisfaction that you are able to support Sylvia
 
 AN UNEXPECTED OPENING 37 
 
 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 ex- 
 pected 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 medita- 
 tively, 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 ac- 
 count," 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 ex- 
 actly 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."
 
 38 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " This looks all that. I only bought it be- 
 cause, though it wasn't down on the catalogue, 
 I had a fancy that it might interest the pro- 
 fessor." 
 
 " 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."
 
 AN UNEXPECTED OPENING 39 
 
 " 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 in- 
 tended 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 any- 
 thing of the kind, and much reason for believ- 
 ing 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 inexperi- 
 ence 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 mod- 
 ern bazaar work, most probably. He'd better 
 have kept his money. What was this bottle of 
 yours like, now, eh? "
 
 4:0 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 Ara- 
 bian 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 recep- 
 tacle 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
 
 AN UNEXPECTED OPENING 41 
 
 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 afterward, encouraged by 
 the radiant trust in Sylvia's eyes, and thrilled 
 by the soft secret pressure of her hand at 
 parting. 
 
 He had been amply repaid for all the hours 
 he had spent in the close sale-room. And his 
 luck had turned at last: he was going to suc- 
 ceed; 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 veranda and balcony, 
 a room which, as he had furnished and decorated
 
 42 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 un- 
 usual 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 in- 
 fernally ugly that it ought to be useful. The 
 professor seemed to fancy it might hold docu- 
 ments, 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 lavalike crust. 
 
 " I must get some of that off first, and then 
 try again," he decided, and after foraging down-
 
 AN UNEXPECTED OPENING 43 
 
 stairs, lie 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, but the 
 exertion made him so hot and thirsty that he 
 was obliged to stop and mix himself a whisky 
 and soda before resuming the attack. 
 
 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 backward, 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 hiss- 
 ing, black smoke pouring out of its mouth and 
 towering up in a gigantic column to the ceil- 
 ing; he was conscious, too, of a pungent and 
 peculiarly overpowering perfume. " I don't 
 know what it smells like," he thought, " but 
 whatever it is it's not attar of roses. I've got 
 hold of some sort of infernal machine, and I 
 shall be all over the square in less than a sec-
 
 44 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 ond! " And, just as lie 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 stran- 
 ger, who seemed of abnormal and almost colos- 
 sal 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 Ori- 
 ental. He would have preferred an English- 
 man 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
 
 45 
 
 all. By the way, I suppose you can speak Eng- 
 lish?" 
 
 " Assuredly I can speak so as to be under- 
 stood 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 re- 
 moved the seal, O young man of kindness and 
 good works? " 
 
 " I certainly did open it," said Yentimore, 
 " though I don't know where the kindness comes 
 in for I've no notion what was inside the 
 thing." 
 
 " / was inside it," said the stranger calmly.
 
 CHAPTER IY 
 
 AT LAEGE 
 
 " So you were inside that bottle, were you? " 
 said Horace blandly. " How singular ! " He 
 began to realize that he had to deal with an Ori- 
 ental lunatic, and must humour him to some 
 extent. Fortunately he did not seem at all dan- 
 gerous, though undeniably eccentric - looking. 
 His hair fell in wild profusion from under his 
 high turban about his cheeks, which were of a 
 uniform pale rhubarb tint ; his gray 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 ex- 
 pression, part slyness and part childlike sim- 
 plicity. 
 
 " Dost thou doubt that I speak truth? I 
 tell thee that I have been confined in that ac- 
 cursed vessel for countless centuries how long, 
 I know not, for it is beyond calculation." 
 
 " I should not have thought from your ap- 
 pearance, sir, that you had been so many years 
 46
 
 AT LARGE 4.7 
 
 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 writ- 
 ten : ' Let him that desireth oblivion confer 
 benefits but the memory of an injury endur- 
 eth forever.' I forget neither benefits nor in- 
 juries." 
 
 " An old gentleman with a grievance," 
 thought Ventimore. " And mad into the bar- 
 gain. 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 Gar- 
 den 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
 
 48 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 Jinneeyeh, she was of the believing Jinn, I de- 
 spatched messengers to Suleyman the Great, 
 the son of Daood, offering him her hand in mar- 
 riage. But a certain Jarjarees, the son of 
 Rejmoos, the son of Iblees may he be forever 
 accursed! looked with favour upon the maid- 
 en, and, going secretly unto Suleyman, per- 
 suaded 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 mo- 
 tives may be rendered foul," was the somewhat 
 evasive reply. " Thus it came to pass that Su- 
 leyman 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 hoped was sufficiently 
 sympathetic. 
 
 " But now, by thy means, O thou of noble 
 ancestors and gentle disposition, my deliver- 
 ance hath been accomplished; and if I were to 
 serve thee for a thousand years, regarding noth- 
 ing else, even thus could I not requite thee, and
 
 AT LARGE 49 
 
 my so doing would be a small thing according 
 to thy deserts! " 
 
 " 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 experi- 
 ence 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 trade 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."
 
 50 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " In my case," Horace confessed, " the re- 
 ward has been too fine to be perceived. In 
 other words. I've never been rewarded, be- 
 cause 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 ob- 
 ligation, which he was anxious to discharge, it 
 would have been unkind to throw cold water 
 on his good intentions. 
 
 " My dear sir," he said, laughing, " if you 
 should come across that particular type of cli- 
 ent, 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 great-
 
 AT LARGE 51 
 
 est 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 fall- 
 ing 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 ut- 
 termost ends of the earth! "
 
 52 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " 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 strik- 
 ing 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 Yentimore, " I'll speak to 
 Mrs. Eapkin, 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 sea- 
 son, O young man of kind conduct. But may 
 thy days be fortunate, and thy 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 is per- 
 mitted unto me, I will cover thee with the veils 
 of my protection! " 
 
 As he finished this harangue the speaker
 
 AT LARGE 53 
 
 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 ! " 
 
 And he did.
 
 CHAPTEK V 
 
 CARTE BLANCHE 
 
 WHEN Yentimore woke next morning his 
 headache had gone, and with it the recollec- 
 tion of everything but the wondrous and de- 
 lightful 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 any- 
 thing after that? There was the professor, to 
 be sure; but even he might be brought to con- 
 sent 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 rather speculative pur- 
 chase 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 gro- 
 tesque a fancy into his head? and then smiled 
 as he traced it to Sylvia's playful suggestion 
 54
 
 CAETE BLANCHE 55 
 
 that the bottle might contain a " genie," as 
 did the famous jar in the Arabian Mghts, 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 circum- 
 stantial and plausible that, in spite of its ex- 
 travagance, 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 in- 
 side it; and who knew that it might not con- 
 tain something more to his advantage than a 
 maundering old Jinnee with a grievance sev- 
 eral 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
 
 56 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 beady eyes, nostrils 
 that seemed to smell battle afar off, a wide, 
 thin mouth that apparently closed with a snap, 
 and a dry whitey-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 regret- 
 ting that he was not what she called " serous- 
 minded enough " to get on in the world. Rap- 
 kin 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 con- 
 firmed 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 yester-
 
 CARTE BLANCHE 57 
 
 day. 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 here in the corner ; 
 and when I see it this morning it was layin' o' 
 one side, and looking that dusty and disrespect- 
 able 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 dis- 
 concerted to find that part of his dream was true 
 the bottle had been there. 
 
 " I hope I've done nothing wrong, sir," said 
 Mrs. Rapkin, observing his expression. " I only 
 used a little warm ale to it, which is a capital 
 thing for brasswork, and gave it a scrub with 
 ' Vitrolia ' soap; but it would take more than 
 that to git all the muck off of it." 
 
 " It's all right, so long as you didn't try to 
 get the top off," said Horace.
 
 58 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " 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 for- 
 gotten. That reminds me. Haven't you let the 
 rooms above to to an Oriental gentleman a 
 native, you know wears a green turban? " 
 
 " That I most certainly 'ave not, Mr. Venti- 
 more," 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 suit- 
 able to savage notions. But I've enough on my 
 hands, Mr. Ventimore, attending to you not
 
 CARTE BLANCHE 59 
 
 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 what- 
 ever inside it, which disposed of all the hopes 
 he had entertained from that quarter. 
 
 It was not difficult to account for the vision- 
 ary Oriental as an hallucination probably in- 
 spired 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 Kights, would amply provide it. 
 
 So, having settled these points to his entire 
 satisfaction, he went to his office in Great Clois- 
 ter Street, which he now had entirely to him- 
 self, and was soon engaged in drafting the speci- 
 fication 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 
 5
 
 60 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 became entirely oblivious of all but the task 
 before him. 
 
 So much so that, even when the light be- 
 came 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 arm-chair 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 hand in 
 courteous deprecation, under which there 
 seemed a suspicion of bewildered embarrass- 
 ment. 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 a most unceremonious 
 way of ah dropping in on you of invading 
 your privacy."
 
 CARTE BLANCHE 61 
 
 " Not at all," said Horace, wondering 
 whether he could possibly intend him to under- 
 stand 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 fishlike 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 archi- 
 tect, 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, that 
 is the name. And an architect, Mr. Venti- 
 more, so I I am given to understand, of im- 
 mense ability." 
 
 " I'm afraid I can't claim to be that," said 
 Horace, " but I may call myself fairly com- 
 petent." 
 
 " Competent? Why, of course you're com- 
 petent. Do you suppose, sir, that I, a practical
 
 62 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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. er ah Venti- 
 more 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, genu- 
 inely 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
 
 CARTE BLANCHE 63 
 
 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, con- 
 cealed 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 at 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 house 
 where I could run down for the week-end and 
 entertain a friend or two in a quiet way, and 
 perhaps live there some part of the year. Hith- 
 erto 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 sur- 
 round myself with the simple comforts, the ah 
 unassuming elegance of an English country 
 house. And you're the man I feel more con- 
 vinced of it with every word you say you're
 
 64 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 ar- 
 rived 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 open win- 
 dow; he was not in the least that kind of 
 person. 
 
 " I shall be happy to do my best," said Hor- 
 ace, 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've finished it may work 
 out at about a hundred thousand. I take it
 
 CARTE BLANCHE 65 
 
 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 house 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 minutice 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 pleas- 
 ing the ladies, hey? Now let me see. To-mor- 
 row'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. Theii 
 we'll send you up to town in the evening, and 
 you can start work the first thing on Monday.
 
 66 THE BEASS BOTTLE 
 
 That suit you? Very well, then, we'll expect 
 you to-morrow." 
 
 With this Mr. Wackerbath departed, leav- 
 ing Horace, as may be imagined, absolutely 
 overwhelmed by the suddenness and complete- 
 ness 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 sixty thousand 
 pounds would be three thousand pounds, 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
 
 CAETE BLANCHE 67 
 
 when he really needed it, and in the most simple 
 and natural manner! 
 
 He loyally completed the work he had prom- 
 ised to do for Beevor, who would have to dis- 
 pense 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 Cot- 
 tesmore 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 dusky gray- 
 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-gray 
 mist stealing between the distant tree-trunks, 
 and then the cheery bustle and brilliancy of 
 High Street. Finally came the joy of finding 
 Sylvia all alone, and witnessing her frank de- 
 light 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 hap- 
 pier man than Horace Yentimore, he would 
 have done well to dissemble his felicity, for 
 fear of incurring the jealousy of the high gods.
 
 68 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 "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 yester- 
 day. 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 pros- 
 pects. 
 
 "Well," said Mrs. Futvoye, "you had 
 better speak to my husband about it." 
 
 The professor came in shortly afterward, 
 and Horace immediately requested a five min- 
 utes' 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 
 bookcases were texts from the Koran, while 
 every chair bore the Arabic for " Welcome " 
 in a gilded fire-work on its leather back; the
 
 CARTE BLANCHE 69 
 
 lamp was a perforated mosque lantern with 
 long pendant 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 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 for- 
 gotten the bottle. " Oh," he said, " I I got it 
 open, but there was nothing in it." 
 
 " Just as I anticipated, sir," said the pro- 
 fessor. " I told you there couldn't be anything 
 in a bottle of that description; it was simply 
 throwing away money 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 impres- 
 sion 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,
 
 70 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 expecta- 
 tions, 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 thou- 
 sands," remarked the professor dryly, " it will 
 be time enough to talk of marrying and mak- 
 ing settlements. Meanwhile, if you and Sylvia 
 choose to consider yourselves engaged I won't 
 object; only I must insist on having your prom- 
 ise that you won't persuade her to marry you 
 without her mother's and my consent." 
 
 Ventimore gave this undertaking willingly
 
 CARTE BLANCHE ft 
 
 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 Hor- 
 ace," said the professor solemnly after dinner, 
 when the neat parlour maid 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 pro- 
 pensity of yours to needless extravagance." 
 
 " Papa ! " cried Sylvia, " what could have 
 made you think Horace extravagant ? " 
 
 " Really," said Horace, " I should not have 
 called myself particularly extravagant." 
 
 " 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 worth- 
 less 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,"
 
 72 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 pro- 
 fessor, 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 are 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 be- 
 fore," 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 pro- 
 fessor, " which would seem to point to a Phoeni-
 
 CARTE BLANCHE 73 
 
 cian origin. And, as I am acquainted with no 
 Oriental brass earlier than the tenth century 
 of our era, I should regard your description as 
 a priori distinctly unlikely. However, I should 
 certainly like to have an opportunity of examin- 
 ing 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 
 the 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 afterward, 
 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 even- 
 ing 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
 
 74 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 unsatis- 
 factory 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 dis- 
 tress 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
 
 CARTE BLANCHE 75 
 
 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 pos- 
 sible, 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 entertain- 
 ment, 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 toward 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 "Wack- 
 erbath family, who were all enthusiastic about 
 the proposed country house; the site was a fine 
 one, and would command extensive views. He 
 came back to town the same evening, having 
 spent a pleasant day and learned enough of his 
 6
 
 76 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 client's requirements, and, what was even more 
 important, those of his client's wife and daugh- 
 ters, to enable him to begin work upon the 
 sketch plans the next morning. 
 
 He had not been long in his rooms at Yin- 
 cent Square, and was still agreeably engaged 
 in recalling the docility and ready apprecia- 
 tion with which the Wackerbaths had received 
 his suggestions and rough sketches, their com- 
 pliments 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 thin 
 gauze, and through it stepped, smiling benig- 
 nantly, the green-robed form of Eakrash-el- 
 Aamash, the Jinnee.
 
 CHAPTEK VI 
 
 EMBARKAS DE KICHESSES 
 
 VENTIMORE had so thoroughly convinced 
 himself that the released Jinnee was purely a 
 creation of his own imagination that he rubbed 
 his eyes with a start, hoping that they had de- 
 ceived him. 
 
 " Stroke thy head, O merciful and meri- 
 torious one," said his visitor, " and recover thy 
 faculties to receive good tidings. For it is 
 indeed I Fakrash-el-Aamash whom thou be- 
 holdest." 
 
 " I I'm delighted to see you," said Hor- 
 ace, as cordially as he could. " Is there any- 
 thing I can do for you? " 
 
 " Nay, for hast thou not done me the great- 
 est 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 
 
 77
 
 78 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 per- 
 suade 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 
 certain cities in his dominions, hoping that by 
 chance I might hear news of him, but I re- 
 frained from asking directly, lest thereby I 
 should attract 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 with- 
 out knocking, lest haply that which thou seek- 
 est should be behind it.' ' 
 
 " Exactly," said Horace. " Do each city 
 thoroughly, house by house, and don't neglect 
 the smallest clew. ' If at first you don't suc- 
 ceed, try, try, try again, ' as one of our own 
 poets teaches."
 
 EMBARRAS DE RICHESSES 79 
 
 " Try, try, try again," echoed the Jin- 
 nee, with an admiration that was almost fatu- 
 ous, " Divinely gifted, truly, was he who com- 
 posed 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 recom- 
 mendation the better? " 
 
 " It may be as thou sayest. But know this, 
 
 my son, that wheresoever I may wander I 
 shall never cease to study how I may most 
 fully reward thee for thy kindness toward me. 
 For nobly was it 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, 
 
 1 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
 
 80 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 the Jinnee, " for I have succeeded in perform- 
 ing 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, beam- 
 ing 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 de- 
 sired 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 a memo- 
 randum of it on a card in his pocket," said 
 Horace. 
 
 " I furnished him with the paper thou 
 gavedst me containing thy name 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
 
 EMBARRAS DE RICHESSES 81 
 
 be accused of most unprofessional behaviour. 
 I'd no idea you would take that way of intro- 
 ducing 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." 
 
 Horace groaned. Undo it? How could it 
 be undone now without some open scandal! 
 
 " 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 driving any 
 scheme of further benevolence out of the Jin- 
 nee'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 for ever so long." 
 
 " Are human beings, then, so enamoured of
 
 82 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 
 to obtain riches? " 
 
 " Because," said Horace, " unless a man is 
 tolerably well off in these days he can not hope 
 to marry." 
 
 Fakrash smiled with indulgent compassion. 
 " How excellent is the saying of one of old : 
 ' He who 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 will, 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 scandalized stranger 
 being shot into his dwelling, like coals. " I as-
 
 EMBAREAS DE RICHESSES 83 
 
 sure you I would much rather win a wife for my- 
 self 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 name and dwelling-place, and I 'will as- 
 suredly obtain her for thee." 
 
 But Yentimore had seen enough of the Jin- 
 nee'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 over- 
 paid 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 pos- 
 sible, 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 per-
 
 84: THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 dition if I become unmindful of thy benevo- 
 lence! " 
 
 And, raising his joined hands above his head 
 as he spoke, he sank, feet foremost, through 
 the carpet and was gone. 
 
 "Thank Heaven!" thought Yentimore, 
 " he's taken the hint at last. I don't think I'm 
 likely to see any more of him. I feel an un- 
 grateful 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 tell- 
 ing 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 with- 
 out any explanations, what could he say to Syl- 
 via? What would Sylvia's father say to him? 
 There would certainly be an end to his engage- 
 ment.
 
 EMBARRAS DE RICHESSES 85 
 
 After all, lie had not been to blame: the 
 AVackerbaths were quite satisfied; he felt per- 
 fectly 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 con- 
 duct 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 ex- 
 tremely 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 only too seldom and 
 delusively in most cases a revelation of latent 
 power that he had not dared to hope for. And 
 now, with Ventimore, years of study and theo- 
 rizing, which he had often been tempted to 
 think wasted, began to bear golden fruit. He
 
 86 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 designed and drew with a rapidity and original- 
 ity, 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-deception. 
 
 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 com- 
 bination. 
 
 And, as he had foreseen, he had effectually 
 got rid of Fakrash, who was evidently too en- 
 grossed 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 super-
 
 EMBARRAS DE RICHESSES 87 
 
 stitious fear that it never would 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 pro- 
 curable 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 noth- 
 ing but smile and bow with speechless polite- 
 ness, as he dropped sauce-boats and plates with 
 stately and well-bred composure, Horace re- 
 plied that he thought of having some one in, 
 to avoid troubling Mr. Rapkin; but his wife 
 expressed such confidence in her husband's 
 proving equal to all emergencies that Venti- 
 more waived the point, and left it to her to 
 hire extra help if she thought fit. 
 
 " ~Now what soup can you give us? " he in-
 
 88 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 quired, as Mrs. Rapkin stood at attention and 
 quite unmollified. 
 
 After protracted mental conflict she grudg- 
 ingly 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 dif- 
 ficulties to her mind, and she offered a com- 
 promise 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 window as 
 he spoke, as though in search of some outside 
 suggestion. ..." Camels, by Jove ! " he sud- 
 denly exclaimed. 
 
 " Camels, Mr. Yentimore, sir? " repeated 
 Mrs. Rapkin, in some bewilderment; and then,
 
 EMB AREAS DE RICHESSES 89 
 
 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. 
 Kapkin?" 
 
 Out of the faint mist which hung over the 
 farther end of the square advanced a proces- 
 sion of tall dun-coloured animals with long deli- 
 cately poised necks and a mincing gait. Even 
 Mrs. Rapkin could not succeed in making any- 
 thing of them except camels. 
 
 " What the deuce does a caravan of camels 
 want in Vincent Square ? " said Horace, with 
 a sudden qualm which he could not quite ac- 
 count for. 
 
 " 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," said 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 is 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 man- 
 age them." 
 
 " It seems to me, sir," said Mrs. Rapkin,
 
 90 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " that they're coming our way they seem to 
 be stopping outside." 
 
 " Don't talk such infernal I beg your par- 
 don, 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. 
 
 " Eidicklous it may be, sir," she retorted, 
 " but they're all laying down on the road oppo- 
 site our door, as you can see, and them niggers 
 is making signs to you to come 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 at a sign from 
 their attendants, who were now making pro- 
 found salaams toward the window where Venti- 
 more 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 so many camels! " As he ap- 
 peared on the doorstep, all the drivers flopped 
 down and rubbed their flat noses on the curb- 
 stone.
 
 EMBARRAS DE RICHESSES 91 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, get up ! " said Horace 
 angrily. " This isn't Hammersmith. Turn to 
 the left, into the Yauxhall 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 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 goodwill into 
 thy dwelling and depart in peace." 
 
 Horace had not noted till then that every 
 camel bore a heavy burden, which the attend- 
 ants were now unloading. " Oh, if you must" 
 he said, not too graciously, " only make haste 
 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 paralyzed with amazement. " It 
 7
 
 92 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 it's all right," he said. " I'd forgotten it's 
 only a few Oriental things from the place 
 where that brass bottle came, 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 attend- 
 ants entered, each of whom deposited his load 
 on the floor with a guttural grunt and retired 
 backward, until the sitting-room was blocked 
 with piles of sacks and bales and chests, where- 
 upon 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 con- 
 stable by the railings. 
 
 " This won't do, you know," said the con- 
 stable. " These 'ere camels must move on or 
 I shall 'ave to interfere." 
 
 " It's all right, constable," said Horace,
 
 EMBARKAS DE RICHESSES 93 
 
 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, star- 
 ing blankly after the caravan as camel after 
 camel disappeared into the haze. 
 
 " I shouldn't mind knowin' that friend of 
 yours, sir," said the constable. " Open-'anded 
 sort o' gentleman, I should think." 
 
 " Very," said Horace savagely, and re- 
 turned to his room, which Mrs. Rapkin had now 
 left. 
 
 His hands shook, though hardly 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 workman- 
 ship and pantomimic proportions; the chests 
 were full of jewels ropes of creamy - pink 
 pearls as large as average onions, strings of un- 
 cut rubies and emeralds, the smallest of which
 
 94: THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 would have been a tight fit in an ordinary col- 
 lar - box, and diamonds, roughly faceted and 
 polished, each the size of a cocoa-nut, in whose 
 hearts quivered a liquid and prismatic radiance. 
 
 On the most moderate computation, the 
 total value of these gifts would amount to over 
 a thousand 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 unequal to the occasion than Horace's, 
 which was simply a subdued but heart-felt 
 monosyllable " Damn! "
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 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 pay off the national debt with- 
 out sensible inconvenience, convulse the money 
 markets of Europe and America, bring society 
 to his feet, make and unmake kingdoms domi- 
 nate, in short, the entire world. 
 
 " But then," as Horace told himself, with a 
 groan, " it would not amuse me in the least to 
 pay off the national debt; it would probably 
 send thousands of conscientious trustees half out 
 
 95
 
 96 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 of their minds with worry, and drive millions 
 of inoffensive investors, who had hitherto been 
 satisfied with their modest two and a half per 
 cent, into ruinous speculation. . . . 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 king- 
 doms? 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 ma- 
 jority of them were martyrs to dyspepsia. They 
 were often weighed down by the cares and re- 
 sponsibilities 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
 
 GRATITUDE 97 
 
 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 genera- 
 tions it would be entirely dissipated. 
 
 " And the biggest millionaire living," con- 
 cluded Horace, " is a pauper compared with 
 me!" 
 
 But there was another consideration how 
 was he to realize 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 all 
 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 genu- 
 ine he'd probably have a fit, but most likely 
 he'd think I'd invented some dodge for manu- 
 facturing 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 ac-
 
 98 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 knowledgment of my having released 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 pos- 
 sible in these days for a young and hitherto 
 unemployed architect suddenly to surround 
 himself with wondrous carpets and gold ves- 
 sels 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 in- 
 credulity, suspicion, ridicule. In imagination 
 he could already see the head-lines on the news- 
 sheets: 
 
 BOTTLED BILLIONS!! 
 
 AMAZING ARABESQUES BY AN" AECHITECT ! 
 HE SAYS THE JAE CONTAINED A JINNEE. 
 
 SENSATIONAL STORY! 
 DIVERTING DETAILS! 
 
 And so on through every phase of alliterative 
 ingenuity. He ground his teeth at the mere 
 thought of it.
 
 GRATITUDE 99 
 
 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 riches came from 
 such a questionable source? No one would be- 
 lieve that he had not made some unholy bar- 
 gain before consenting to set this incarcerated 
 spirit free. He, who had acted in absolute 
 ignorance, who had persistently declined all re- 
 ward after realizing what he had done! 
 
 No, it was too much. Try as he might to 
 do justice to the Jinnee's gratitude and gen- 
 erosity, he could not restrain a bitter resent- 
 ment at the utter want of consideration shown 
 in overloading him with gifts so useless and so 
 compromising. No Jinnee, however old, how- 
 ever 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
 
 100 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 way of ongtray to-morrow night. I thought if 
 I could find a sweet-bread at all reasonable " 
 
 To Horace, surrounded as he was by incal- 
 culable riches, sweet-breads, however unpreju- 
 diced, seemed incongruous just then; the transi- 
 tion of thought was too violent. 
 
 " I can't bother about that now, Mrs. Rap- 
 kin," he said; " we'll settle it to-morrow. I'm 
 too busy." 
 
 " I suppose most of the things will have to 
 go back, sir, if they're only sent on approval 
 like?" 
 
 If only he 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 dusty and 
 fusty; they can't be no use to nobody, 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? "
 
 GRATITUDE 101 
 
 "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 him- 
 self could only just squeeze his way between 
 the piles, it did seem as if his guests might find 
 themselves inconveniently cramped. 
 
 " It will be all right," he said, with an op- 
 timism he was very far from feeling; " we'll 
 manage, somehow. Leave it to me." 
 
 Before he left for his office he took the pre- 
 caution 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 enthu- 
 siasm 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! "
 
 102 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 im- 
 part thy difficulties to me." 
 
 " Oh, they're nothing, thanks," said Hor- 
 ace, 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
 
 GRATITUDE 103 
 
 Jinnee, " and by no means suited to thy dig- 
 nity, 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, Fak- 
 rash-el-Aamash, should consent to receive back 
 the gifts I have bestowed? Are they then of 
 so little value in thy sight? "
 
 104: THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " 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 those 
 gifts of yours." 
 
 " So thou wouldst have me break the oath 
 which I sware, to reward thee fitly for thy kind 
 action?" 
 
 " But you have rewarded me already," said 
 Horace, " by contriving that a wealthy mer- 
 chant should engage me to build him a resi- 
 dence. 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 con- 
 trary, they are making me extremely uncom- 
 fortable." 
 
 "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 this matter."
 
 GKATITUDE 105 
 
 Horace felt a natural difficulty 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. Fak- 
 rash, 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 copy- 
 book," he thought, " but I don't care how prig- 
 gish 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 sin- 
 cere 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.' '
 
 106 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 en- 
 tertain 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 Hie 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
 
 GRATITUDE 107 
 
 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," re- 
 marked the Jinnee, after he had asked various 
 by no means unintelligent questions and re- 
 ceived the answers. " But be persuaded that 
 it shall all turn out most fortunately and thou 
 shalt obtain great renown. And now," he con- 
 cluded, " I am compelled to take leave of thee, 
 for I am still without any certain tidings of 
 Suleyman." 
 
 " You must not let me keep you," said Hor- 
 ace, 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
 
 108 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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, feel- 
 ing 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 remem- 
 ber. ' It is possible for a kindness to be more 
 inconvenient than an injury.' ' 
 
 " Marvellously gifted was he who discov- 
 ered such a saying! " cried Fakrash. 
 
 " I imagine," said Horace, " he learned 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 Mneveh and in- 
 quire there." 
 
 " Capital ! " said Yentimore, with hearty ap- 
 proval, 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 thor- 
 oughly? Or South America. It's a pity to lose
 
 GRATITUDE 109 
 
 any chance. You've never been to South Amer- 
 ica 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 it won't take you very long." 
 
 " I care not," said Fakrash, " though the 
 search be long, for in travel there are five ad- 
 vantages " 
 
 " 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 more- 
 over be assured that such magnanimity as thine 
 shall not go without a recompense ! "
 
 HO THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " How often must I tell you," said Horace, 
 in a fever of impatience, " that I am already 
 much more than recompensed? Now, my kind, 
 generous old friend," he added, with an emo- 
 tion that was not wholly insincere, " the time 
 has come to bid you farewell forever. 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 only, the greatest happiness you can give 
 me now. Good-bye, and bon voyage I " 
 
 " 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 backward into the fire-place, 
 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
 
 GRATITUDE HI 
 
 BO 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 ex- 
 pressed 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 any- 
 thing more from him, and he isn't offended 
 either, so that's all settled. ISTow 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 de- 
 layed so long, thought Ventimore, as he went 
 in to see him and to tell him the unexpected 
 piece of good fortune that had come to him- 
 self 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 cor- 
 dial as could be expected, as soon as he fully 
 understood that no hoax was intended. " "Well,
 
 112 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 old man," he said, " I am glad. I really am, 
 you know. To think of a prize like that com- 
 ing 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 for you. You must 
 not 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
 
 GRATITUDE 113 
 
 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 de- 
 pression 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 experi- 
 ence, 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 com- 
 plete enough for his client's inspection. 
 
 Better still, on returning to his rooms that
 
 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 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 Syl- 
 via," he thought, " and she loves pearls. And 
 a prayer-carpet would have pleased the pro- 
 fessor tremendously. . . . But no, after all, it
 
 GRATITUDE 115 
 
 wouldn't have done. Sylvia couldn't go about 
 in pearls the size of new potatoes, and the pro- 
 fessor would only have ragged me for more reck- 
 less 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 de- 
 cently refuse them then. So it's best as it is." 
 And really, considering the 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 QUAKTEES 
 
 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 ad- 
 dress, while Horace now felt a comfortable as- 
 surance 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 pres- 
 ence. 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, just 
 116
 
 BACHELOR'S QUARTERS 117 
 
 as he sometimes doubted whether his engage- 
 ment 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 foods could be rare and dainty enough? 
 to be set before Sylvia. 
 
 He would have liked to provide champagne, 
 but he knew that that wine would savour of 
 ostentation in the professor's judgment, so he 
 had contented himself 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 inclosed by its high
 
 118 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 be- 
 fore a storm. Against the mist below the 
 young and nearly leafless trees showed flat, 
 black profiles, as of pressed sea-weed, and the 
 sky immediately above the housetops 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 wails 
 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 spell-bound with per- 
 plexed amazement, for he was in a strange 
 house !
 
 BACHELOR'S QUARTERS H9 
 
 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 hal- 
 terations were required, I do think as me and 
 Rapkin had the right to be consulted." 
 
 Horace let all his chrysanthemums drop un-
 
 120 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 heeded into the fountain. He understood now; 
 indeed, he seemed in some way to have under- 
 stood 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 mu- 
 nificence which was one of his worst failings, 
 had determined, by way of a pleasant surprise, 
 to entirely refurnish and redecorate the apart- 
 ments according to his own ideas. 
 
 It was extremely kind of him; it showed 
 a truly grateful disposition; but, oh as Hor- 
 ace 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 over to get some things I wanted in for
 
 BACHELOR'S QUARTERS 
 
 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. Rap- 
 kin?" 
 
 " 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 Yentimore'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. Yentimore, but it's what 
 them men have done, and if you don't believe 
 me come and see for yourself."
 
 122 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 She drew the hangings aside, and revealed 
 to Ventimore's astonished gaze a vast pillared 
 hall and 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 be- 
 longed to his sitting-room (for either from deli- 
 cacy 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 ala- 
 baster on which were divans ran round two 
 sides of the hall, while the side opposite to him 
 was pierced with horseshoe-shaped arches, ap- 
 parently 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. Kapkin." 
 
 " It's not for me to say, sir, but I should 
 like to know where you thought of dining? "
 
 BACHELOR'S QUARTERS 123 
 
 " 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 incrusted with ivory and mother-of- 
 pearl, which was evidently his bed-room. A 
 gorgeous robe, stiff with gold and glittering 
 with uncut gems, was laid out for him (for the 
 Jinnee had thought of everything), but Venti- 
 more naturally preferred his own evening 
 clothes. 
 
 "Mr. Rapkin!" he shouted, going to an- 
 other arch that seemed to communicate with 
 the basement. 
 
 " Sir! " replied his landlord, who had just 
 returned from his " reading-room," and now ap- 
 peared, without a tie and in his shirt sleeves, 
 looking pale and wild, as was perhaps intelli- 
 gible in the circumstances. As he entered his 
 unfamiliar marble halls, he staggered and his
 
 124: THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 hevening 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 hevening soot ! I con- 
 sider, sir, I consider that a unwall that a most 
 unwarranterrible liberty 'ave 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 castle, and nobody's got the right when his 
 back'sh turned to go and make a 'ummums of it. 
 Not nobody 'asn't." 
 
 " Make a what of it? " cried Yentimore. 
 
 " A 'ummums that's English, ain't it? A
 
 BACHELOR'S QUARTERS 125 
 
 bloomin' Tukkish 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 f am'ly. It's 'ard it's 
 damned 'ard." 
 
 " ~Now, look here," said Yentimore 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 myself to- 
 gerrer 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 
 on 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 does not see that 
 it's 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
 
 126 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 afterward. 
 Do you see ? " 
 
 " That will be all ri', Mr. Ventimore," said 
 Rapkin, who was not far gone enough to be 
 beyond understanding and obeying. " You 
 leave it entirely to me. I'll unnertake that 
 your friends shall be made comforrable, perf elly 
 comforrable. I've lived as butler in the besht, 
 the mosht exclu most arishto you know the 
 sort of families 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. Rap- 
 kin would be sober enough after his head had 
 been under the tap for a few minutes, and in
 
 BACHELOR'S QUARTERS 127 
 
 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 futile 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 man- 
 age 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 Kapkin appeared. He had appar- 
 ently 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.
 
 128 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " 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 would not be required." 
 
 " You told him that ! " Horace said an- 
 grily, 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 in- 
 stant 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
 
 BACHELOR'S QUARTERS 129 
 
 cried, in despair, " do you mean to tell me 
 there's no dinner ready? " 
 
 " Oh," said Kapkin, " there's dinner right 
 enough, and a lot o' barbarious furreners down 
 stairs 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! " ex- 
 claimed Horace. 
 
 " You've got waiters enough, as fur 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 door- 
 keeper 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 Fak- 
 rash, in his anxiety to do the thing thoroughly, 
 had furnished both the feast and attendance 
 himself but who was there to announce his 
 guests? Where were these waiters Rapkin had
 
 130 THB BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 choco- 
 late-hued countenances as they salaamed. 
 
 Between this double line stood Professor 
 and Mrs. Futvoye and Sylvia, who had just re- 
 moved their wraps and were gazing in undis- 
 guised 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 GDI, PUEK, APPARATUS " 
 
 " So you've found your way here at last ! " 
 said Horace, as lie shook hands heartily with 
 the professor and Mrs. Futvoye. " I can't say 
 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 lodg- 
 ings 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 he was secretly impressed by all he be- 
 
 131
 
 132 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 held. " 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 oc- 
 cupying for an extended period must be money 
 thrown away. But doubtless you know best." 
 
 " But your rooms are quite wonderful, Hor- 
 ace! " cried Sylvia, her charming eyes dilat- 
 ing 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 shim- 
 mering billowy 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 apologize for receiving you 
 in this costume," said Horace, with embarrass- 
 ment, " but the fact is I couldn't find my even- 
 ing 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 uncon- 
 scious that his shirt front was bulging and his
 
 "PERSICOS GDI, PUER, APPARATUS" 133 
 
 long - eared white tie beginning to work up 
 toward his left ear, " 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 Ori- 
 ental 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 every- 
 thing. How clever and original of you to trans- 
 form 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 East- 
 ern 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.
 
 134; THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " You can't tell me ! " exclaimed the pro 
 fessor. " 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 was not Liberty. It might 
 have been Maple but I'm not sure. Who- 
 ever 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 help- 
 lessly, 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; "some- 
 times in one place, sometimes in another. 
 There's a great charm in uncertainty," lie 
 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 tortoise-shell 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? " 
 
 " My dear Horace," said Mrs. Futvoye, 
 " your butler has forgotten the chairs." 
 
 " You don't appear to realize, my dear," 
 said the professor, " that chairs would be glar- 
 ingly inappropriate here." 
 
 " 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 plump- 
 est cushion, " such fun as may be derived from 
 eating one's meals on the floor fails to appeal 
 to my sense of humour. However, since you 
 are so determined to be Oriental, no doubt 
 you are right to preserve the strictest accuracy 
 in matters of detail."
 
 136 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 "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 at- 
 tempting 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 men- 
 tion, is not the case." 
 
 " It's only an Eastern ceremony, profess- 
 or," said Horace. 
 
 " I am perfectly well aware of what is cus- 
 tomary 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 this
 
 "PERSICOS GDI, PUER, APPARATUS" 137 
 
 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. "VYe 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
 
 138 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 cup- 
 bearer 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 
 afterward, and was not surprised. It was a 
 strong, harsh wine, in which goat-skin and resin 
 struggled for predominance. 
 
 " It's an old, and I make no doubt a fine 
 wine," observed the professor, with studied po- 
 liteness, " but I fancy it must have suffered 
 in transportation. I really think that, with 
 my gouty tendency, a little whisky and Apol- 
 linaris would be better for me if you keep 
 such Occidental fluids in the house? " 
 
 Horace felt convinced that it would be use- 
 less to order the slaves to bring whisky or Apol- 
 linaris, which were of course unknown in the
 
 "PERSICOS GDI, PUER, APPARATUS" 139 
 
 Jinnee's time, so he could do nothing but apolo- 
 gize for their absence. 
 
 " !N\> matter," said the professor. " I am 
 not so thirsty that I can not 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 mince-meat wrapped in vine leaves, 
 and certainly was not appetizing 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 be- 
 sprinkled with rose-water and musk. 
 
 Only Horace had sufficient courage to at- 
 tack the lamb, and he found reason to regret it. 
 
 Afterward 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 un- 
 palatable? " He himself was feeling distinctly 
 unwell. " It's rather a change from the ordi- 
 nary routine." 
 
 " I have made a truly wonderful dinner, 
 10
 
 140 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 cookery, 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," explained Hor- 
 ace; "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 establish- 
 ment." 
 
 " Oh, they're only here for the evening, 
 sir," said Horace. " Capital fellows more pic- 
 turesque than the local green-grocer and they 
 don't breathe on the top of your head." 
 
 " They're perfect dears, Horace," re- 
 marked Sylvia, " only well, just a little 
 creepy-crawly to look at! "
 
 "PERSICOS GDI, PUEE, APPARATUS" 
 
 " 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 
 h ave 
 
 " 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 pro- 
 pose 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 in-
 
 142 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 tention whatever of maintaining his wife in 
 luxury such as that, he sat 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 con- 
 firm 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 re- 
 proach ! 
 
 Before he could bring himself to answer 
 the question, the attendants had noiselessly re- 
 moved the tray and stool, and were handing 
 round rose-water 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 pro- 
 vided by the the person who supplies the 
 dinner." 
 
 " Can you give me his address? " said the 
 professor, scenting a bargain. "Because, really,
 
 "PERSICOS GDI, PUER, APPARATUS" 143 
 
 you know, these things are probably antiques 
 s much too good to be used for business pur- 
 poses." 
 
 " I'm wrong," said Horace lamely; " these 
 particular things are are lent. By an eccen- 
 tric 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 collec- 
 tion. If you could give me a letter of intro- 
 duction " 
 
 " 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 organized yet." 
 
 The slaves were now with low obeisances
 
 144: THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 are 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 obse- 
 quious 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, chi- 
 bouks, then l hubble-bubbles ' if that's what 
 you call them." 
 
 But the slave clearly did not understand, 
 and it suddenly struck Horace that, since to- 
 bacco and coffee were not introduced, even into 
 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
 
 "PERSICOS GDI, PUER, APPARATUS" 145 
 
 they don't seem to have provided any. I shall 
 speak to the manager about it. And unfor- 
 tunately I don't know where my own cigars 
 are." 
 
 " It's of no consequence," said the profess- 
 or, 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 Colling- 
 ham'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 ap- 
 peared, bearing the brass bottle with every 
 sign of awe, and depositing it at Yentimore's 
 feet. 
 
 Professor Futvoye, after wiping and adjust- 
 ing his glasses, proceeded to examine the vessel. 
 " It certainly is a most unusual type of brass- 
 ware," 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
 
 146 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 himself on the divan by Sylvia's side, hoping 
 for one of the whispered conversations per- 
 mitted 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 j anglings 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 de- 
 manded. " Some fresh surprise in store for 
 us?" 
 
 It was quite as much of a surprise for Hor- 
 ace, but he was spared the humiliation of own- 
 ing it by the entrance of some half dozen 
 dusky musicians swathed in white, and carrying 
 various strangely fashioned instruments, with
 
 "PERS1COS GDI, PITER. APPARATUS" 147 
 
 which they squatted down in a semi-circle by 
 the opposite wall, and began to twang and 
 drub and squall with the complacent cacoph- 
 ony of an Eastern orchestra. Clearly Fak- 
 rash 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 other- 
 wise." 
 
 " I dare say," said the poor lady. " And do 
 they come from the stores, too? " 
 
 " N~o," 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 re- 
 spectable set of fellows." 
 
 " My dear Horace," remarked Mrs. Fut- 
 voye, "if they expect to get engagements for 
 parties and so on, they really ought to try and 
 learn a tune of some sort."
 
 148 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " I understand, Horace," whispered Syl- 
 via. " 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, what- 
 ever 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 the orchestra. 
 
 But there was something unpleasantly spec- 
 tral about their shadowy forms, which showed 
 in grotesquely hazy and bulging 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 grating 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 com- 
 pany generally, they were unwilling to monopo- 
 lize them any longer, and the artists were at 
 liberty to retire. 
 
 Perhaps there is no art more liable to mis- 
 construction than pantomime; certainly Venti-
 
 "PERSICOS GDI, PUER, APPARATUS" 149 
 
 more's efforts in this direction were misunder- 
 stood, 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 Ori- 
 ental type, was unmistakable, even in the sub- 
 dued 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 twinkling 
 feet, writhing and undulating like some beauti- 
 ful cobra, while the players worked themselves 
 up to yet higher and higher stages of frenzy. 
 
 Ventimore, as he sat there looking help- 
 lessly 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 Fak-
 
 150 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 rash 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 Bu- 
 reau. 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 con- 
 dition 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 meant. Tinkla with an 
 'a,' you know. I believe her mother was of Ara- 
 bian extraction, but I really don't know," ex-
 
 "PERSICOS GDI, PUER, APPARATUS" 151 
 
 plained Horace, conscious that Sylvia had with- 
 drawn 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 cover- 
 ing it with kisses, while she murmured speeches 
 in some tongue unknown to him. 
 
 " Is this a usual feature in Mademoiselle 
 Tinkla's entertainments, may I ask? " said Mrs. 
 Futvoye, bristling with not unnatural indigna- 
 tion. 
 
 " 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 pro- 
 fessor, " 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 tem- 
 perament ; 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
 
 152 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 most deeply indebted to you, but we won't de- 
 tain you any longer. Professor," lie added, as 
 she made no offer to rise, " will you kindly ex- 
 plain 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 mu- 
 sicians seized their instruments and scuttled 
 after her. 
 
 " I am so sorry," said Horace, whose even- 
 ing seemed to him to have been spent chiefly in 
 apologies. " It's not at all the kind of enter- 
 tainment one would expect from a place like 
 Whiteley's." 
 
 " By no means," agreed the professor ; " but 
 I understood you to say Mademoiselle 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
 
 "PERSICOS GDI, PUER, APPARATUS" 153 
 
 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 exist- 
 ence 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 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?"
 
 154 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " 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 any- 
 thing 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 an- 
 swered 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 
 their contractor by eleven only he caught the 
 professor's eye and decided that he had better
 
 "PERSICOS GDI, PUEB, APPARATUS" 155 
 
 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. Xow, Mr. Yentimore, 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 engage- 
 ment, because, as I told you at the time, I sus- 
 pected 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 fur- 
 nished 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 imper- 
 fect discipline) a prince might envy. You pro- 
 vide a banquet of hem delicacies which must 
 have cost you infinite trouble and unlimited 
 11
 
 156 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 char- 
 acter. I should be unworthy the name of 
 father, sir, if I were to intrust my only daugh- 
 ter'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 con- 
 found 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 can 
 not be said to have been happy in your explana- 
 tions, and I should advise you not to venture
 
 "PERSICOS GDI, PUER, APPARATUS" 157 
 
 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 bare- 
 headed. 
 
 " 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 con- 
 fidences," replied the professor, " and, if it 
 were, your costume is calculated to attract more 
 remark than is desirable. My wife and daugh-
 
 158 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 ter have gone on; if you'll 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 remem- 
 ber," he added, " that I shall accept no state- 
 ment 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 Fak- 
 rash, 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 un- 
 wound his .wrapper and seated himself on the 
 divan by Horace's side, " I can give you just
 
 "PERSICOS GDI, PUER, APPARATUS" 159 
 
 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 invita- 
 tion 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 pro- 
 fessor, 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 thinlv 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! "
 
 160 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " 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 Hor- 
 ace, " 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 tempo- 
 rarily by less than that." 
 
 " You believe I am suffering from delu- 
 sions? " 
 
 " 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
 
 "PERSICOS GDI, PUER, APPARATUS" 
 
 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 un- 
 utterably beastly banquet, you heard that music 
 and then there was the dancing girl. And 
 this very hall we're in, the 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, overheated 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 compas- 
 sionately, " you would see that the mere pro-
 
 162 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 duction 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 ad- 
 mit 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 your- 
 self 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 de- 
 cipher the inscription you are deceiving your- 
 self. You represent that this bottle belongs 
 to the period of Solomon that is, about a thou- 
 sand years before Christ. 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 Cunei- 
 form, or anything else, must have some refer-
 
 "PERSICOS GDI, PUER, APPARATUS" 163 
 
 ence to a Jinnee confined in the bottle, or at 
 least bear the seal of Solomon. But there the 
 thing is examine it for yourself." 
 
 " !N"ot now/' said the professor. " It's too 
 late, and the light here is not strong enough. 
 But I 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, 
 agree with me 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 acknowl- 
 edge 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 your- 
 self to dwell on Oriental subjects." 
 
 " It's not so easy to avoid dwelling on them
 
 164 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 as you think," said Horace, with rather a 
 dreary laugh. " And I fancy, professpr, that 
 whether you like it or not you'll have to be- 
 lieve in that Jinnee of mine sooner or later." 
 
 " I can scarcely conceive," replied the pro- 
 fessor, 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 sub- 
 ject. Good evening to you." 
 
 As soon as he was alone, Horace paced up 
 and down his deserted halls in a state of sim- 
 mering 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 dwell- 
 ing, deserted by every one, his chances of setting 
 himself right with Sylvia hanging on the slen- 
 derest thread, unknown difficulties and compli- 
 cations threatening him from every side! 
 
 He owed all this to Fakrash. Yes, that in- 
 corrigibly grateful Jinnee, with his antiquated 
 notions and his high-flown professions, had con- 
 trived to ruin him more disastrously than if he 
 had been his bitterest foe. Ah! if he could be
 
 "PERSICOS GDI, PUER, APPARATUS" 165 
 
 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 forever; 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 help- 
 lessness, Yentimore went to the arch which led 
 to his bedchamber and drew the curtain back 
 with a furious pull. And just within the arch- 
 way, 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 Fak- 
 rash, 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, glanc- 
 ing 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 ob- 
 served graciously. " And were thy friends 
 amazed at the manner of their entertainment? " 
 
 " They were," said Horace. 
 166
 
 NO PLACE LIKE HOME 167 
 
 " 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 pro- 
 vide 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 pos- 
 sible," said Horace. " Couldn't have been 
 better! " 
 
 " Yet thou sayest that thy friends will re- 
 turn no more. For what reason?" 
 
 " Well, you see," explained Horace reluc- 
 tantly, " there's such a thing as doing people 
 too well. I mean, it isn't everybody that appre- 
 ciates 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." 
 
 " Well," said Horace gloomily, " she came." 
 
 " Acquaint me with that which hath oc- 
 curred, for I perceive plainly that something 
 hath fallen out contrary to thy desires."
 
 168 THE BEASS BOTTLE 
 
 " Well," said Horace again, " 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 her- 
 self at my feet and hugged my knees and de- 
 clared 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 as- 
 suredst me that thou wast not contracted to 
 any damsel? "
 
 NO PLACE LIKE HOME 
 
 " 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 en- 
 gaged though, after this evening, my engage- 
 ment 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 Solo- 
 mon 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 small- 
 ness of thy penetration," the Jinnee com- 
 mented, " 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."
 
 170 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " 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 any- 
 thing'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 con- 
 vulsively 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 earnest 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
 
 NO PLACE LIKE HOME 
 
 importance to me that the professor should be- 
 lieve 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 un- 
 commonly 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 ines- 
 timable service. Acquaint me, therefore, with 
 the abode of this sage, and I will present my- 
 12
 
 172 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 self before him, and if haply lie 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 
 He." 
 
 Horace very willingly gave him the profess- 
 or'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 pur- 
 sue 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 results." 
 
 " 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 where ' " murmured Horace, half 
 to himself. " I was afraid you might be dis- 
 appointed 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
 
 NO PLACE LIKE HOME 173 
 
 the Jinnee. " It is an excellent suggestion, 
 and I will follow it without delay." 
 
 " But you won't forget to look in on Pro- 
 fessor 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 com- 
 mands," 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-
 
 174 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 state- 
 ment 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 min- 
 ute." 
 
 " Of a truth," exclaimed Fakrash, " to be- 
 stow 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."
 
 NO PLACE LIKE HOME 175 
 
 " My benevolence toward thee hath no 
 bounds, as thou shalt see, and I can deny thee 
 nothing, for truly thou art a worthy and tem- 
 perate young man. Farewell, then, and be it 
 according to thy desire." 
 
 He raised his arms above his head, and shot 
 up like a rocket toward 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 horse-shoe 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 gray haze ; 
 the street lamps were flickering in the wind; 
 a belated reveller was enlivening his homeward 
 journey by rattling his stick against the railings 
 as he passed. Inside the room everything was 
 exactly as before, and Horace found it diffi- 
 cult 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
 
 176 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 blue-tiled hall with a domed ceiling and gaudy- 
 pillared arches. 
 
 But he was very far from regretting his 
 short-lived splendour; he burned 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, 
 Yentimore 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 re- 
 mained 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
 
 NO PLACE LIKE HOME 177 
 
 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 him- 
 self, 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 for- 
 ward to his next interview with her, but she ap- 
 peared with his bacon and coffee in a spirit so 
 evidently chastened that he saw 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, leav- 
 ing the house like we did." 
 
 " It was extremely inconvenient," said Hor- 
 ace, " and not at all what I should have ex- 
 pected 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 
 178
 
 A FOOL'S PARADISE 179 
 
 Rapkin, as we couldn't stop here another min- 
 ute, 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 nothink 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 capa- 
 ble 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. Yentimore, and no one 
 can say I ever take more than is good for me." 
 
 " I don't suggest that for a moment, Mrs.
 
 180 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 re- 
 duced to folding her apron into small plaits. 
 " It's not for me to say, sir," she replied, " but, 
 if I was to give an 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 overexcited state, and, 
 as you say, those camels had taken hold of 
 your imagination until you were ready to see 
 anything that Rapkin saw and lie was ready 
 to see anything you did. It's not at all uncom- 
 mon. Scientific people, I believe, call it ( col- 
 lective hallucination.' ' 
 
 " Law, sir ! " said the good woman, consid- 
 erably 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 leav- 
 ing 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? "
 
 A FOOL'S PARADISE 
 
 " We managed to get food of sorts from 
 somewhere," said Horace, " but it was most un- 
 comfortable 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 'ead, 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 advisa- 
 bility 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 brought 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,
 
 182 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 though no amount of polish could make it what 
 I call a tasty thing, it's neither hornimental nor 
 yet useful where it is at present." 
 
 " Oh," said Horace, rather relieved, for he 
 had had an ill-defined dread, from her opening 
 words, that the bottle might have been misbe- 
 having 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 cheer- 
 ful mood, and amiably disposed, even toward 
 the Jinnee. With all his many faults, he was 
 a thoroughly good-natured old devil, very supe- 
 rior 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
 
 A FOOL'S PAKADISE 183 
 
 when people see a penniless man suddenly wal- 
 lowing 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. Per- 
 haps, if I suggested it, he wouldn't mind coming 
 in some form that would look less outlandish. If 
 he could get himself up as a banker, or a bishop 
 the bishop of Baghdad, say I shouldn't 
 care how often he called. Only I can't have 
 him coming down the chimney in either ca- 
 pacity. 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 re- 
 ception 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 im- 
 perfect method of examination proposed was 
 not possible, as he had despatched the draw- 
 ings to his client the night before.
 
 184 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " 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 have made of it. I let you 
 see all my work." 
 
 " To tell you the honest truth, old fel- 
 low, 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 realize 
 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 Bee-
 
 A FOOL'S PARADISE 185 
 
 vor, " 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 be- 
 cause 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 com- 
 pleted 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 Water- 
 house, just because he happens to get a sixty- 
 thousand-pound job the first go off! " 
 
 " Poor old Beevor ! " thought Horace re- 
 pentantly. " 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 friend- 
 ship has its limits." 
 
 He returned from lunch, to hear what
 
 186 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 Yentimore 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 ex- 
 plain." 
 
 " Explain ! " Mr. Wackerbath gasped.
 
 A FOOL'S PARADISE 187 
 
 " 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 im- 
 portance 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 gen- 
 tleman 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 de- 
 ceived himself after all, then? Had he been 
 nothing but a conceited fool, and most gall- 
 ing thought of all had Beevor judged him 
 only too acurately? And yet no, he could not 
 believe it; he Tcnew his work was good. 
 
 " This is plain speaking with a vengeance," 
 13
 
 188 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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," con- 
 tinued 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 posi-
 
 A FOOL'S PARADISE 189 
 
 tion 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 dif- 
 ficulty in finding another architect who will be 
 more successful in realizing 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 suf- 
 ferer over this, I fancy it's myself. I can't see 
 how you are any the worse." 
 
 " Not any the worse," cried Mr. Wacker- 
 bath, "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 coach- 
 man and footman saw it ; my wife saw it. Damn 
 it, sir, we all saw it! " 
 
 Then Horace understood. His indefatiga- 
 ble 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 Yentimore remem-
 
 190 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 bered that the Jinnee had surprised him at 
 work upon them, and even requested to have 
 them explained to him) to dispense with con- 
 tractors and bricklayers and carpenters, and con- 
 struct 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 faulty and rejected, it placed the unfor- 
 tunate 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 erect- 
 ing 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. Wack- 
 erbath. 
 
 " Greeting to ye ! " 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 shrink- 
 ing shoulder " undertook to construct a man- 
 sion?" 
 
 " I am," said Mr. Wackerbath, in some mys-
 
 A FOOL'S PARADISE 
 
 tification. " Have I the pleasure of addressing 
 Mr. Ventimore senior? " 
 
 " No, no," put in Horace, " no relation; lie's 
 a 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 accomplish- 
 ments 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 tomfool 
 cross between the Palm House at Kew and the 
 Brighton Pavilion. There's no billiard room, 
 and not a decent bed-room 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 re- 
 lief. The Jinnee, who was certainly very far 
 from being a genius, except by courtesy, had 
 taken it upon himself to erect the palace ac- 
 cording to his own notions of Arabian domestic 
 luxury; and Horace, taught by bitter experi- 
 ence, could sympathize to some extent with his 
 unfortunate client. On the other hand, it was
 
 192 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 ob- 
 scure mental process, which I do not propose to 
 explain, he became reconciled and almost grate- 
 ful to the officious Fakrash. And then, too, it 
 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 that 
 direction, I've no doubt that that it's a devil- 
 ish 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. Wack- 
 erbath. " Stand by and see the best site in 
 three counties defaced by a gimcrack Moorish 
 nightmare like that! Why, they'll call it 
 ' Wackerbath's Folly/ sir. I shall be the laugh- 
 ing-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
 
 A FOOL'S PARADISE 193 
 
 what it may, and compel you and your Ara- 
 bian friend 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, un- 
 grateful 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. Wacker- 
 bath 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 un- 
 happy 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
 
 194: THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 meth- 
 ods, compelled him to interfere. " Mr. Fak- 
 rash," he said, " this has gone far enough. Un- 
 less you stop tormenting this unfortunate gen- 
 tleman, 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 burned dog as he. 
 Therefore I will make his abode to be in the 
 dust forever." 
 
 " But I don't find fault," yelped poor Mr. 
 Wackerbath. " You you entirely misunder- 
 stood the the few comments I ventured to 
 make. It's a capital mansion, handsome, and 
 yet l home-y,' 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 interces- 
 sion and not his. Rise, then," he said to the
 
 A FOOL'S PARADISE 195 
 
 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 curi- 
 osity 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 gray and lilac. " I I 
 should like you to know that, after talking 
 things quietly over with your friend Mr. Venti- 
 more, and his partner here, I am thoroughly 
 convinced that my objections were quite un- 
 tenable. 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 par- 
 ticular 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
 
 196 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 things for me occasion- 
 ally; 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 man- 
 ner. 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 alto- 
 gether 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
 
 A FOOL'S PARADISE 197 
 
 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 compre- 
 hend thee not." 
 
 " Why on earth," Horace groaned, 
 " couldn't you let me build that house my own 
 way? " 
 
 " Did I not hear thee with mine 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 forever. 
 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 abso- 
 lutely wrecked my career as an architect? " 
 
 " That is a thing that can not be," returned 
 the Jinnee, " seeing that thou hast all the 
 credit." 
 
 " The credit ! This is England, not Arabia.
 
 198 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 there- 
 with." 
 
 " 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 Fak- 
 rash, 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 aggrieved 
 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." 
 
 " Save for the magnitude of thy service
 
 A FOOL'S PARADISE 199 
 
 unto me," said Fakrash, " I would not hearken 
 to this caprice of thine, nor wilt thou find me 
 so indulgent on another occasion. But for this 
 once " and here he muttered some words and 
 made a sweeping gesture with his right hand 
 " thy desire is granted unto thee. Of the pal- 
 ace and all that is therein there remaineth no 
 trace." 
 
 " Another surprise for poor old Wacker- 
 bath," 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 Pro- 
 fessor 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 sin-
 
 200 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 cerity. " 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 Jin- 
 nee's furtive eyes a kind of elfin mischief, 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 trans- 
 form him into a one-eyed mule of hideous ap- 
 pearance." 
 
 " What I " cried Horace. But, whether to 
 avoid thanks or explanations, the Jinnee had 
 disappeared with his customary abruptness. 
 
 "Fakrash!" shouted Horace. "Mr. Fak- 
 rash! 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 away 
 from Great Cloister Street. 
 
 Horace sat down at his drawing table and, 
 his head buried in his hands, tried to think out
 
 A FOOL'S PARADISE 201 
 
 this latest complication. Fakrash had trans- 
 formed Professor Futvoye into a one-eyed mule. 
 It would have seemed incredible, almost un- 
 thinkable 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 calam- 
 ity, he loved Sylvia far too well to be deterred 
 by it, and few family cupboards are without a 
 skeleton of some sort. 
 
 No; he would have married Sylvia just as 
 cheerfully if her father had been turned into a 
 three-legged pelican or a two-headed toad, in- 
 stead of simply a one-eyed mule. "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 recog- 
 nised, was whether, in the changed condition of 
 circumstances, Sylvia would consent to marry 
 Mm. 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
 
 202 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 transformation? She might even suspect him 
 of employing this means of compelling the pro- 
 fessor 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, Yentimore knew Sylvia well 
 enough to feel sure that pride would steel her 
 heart against him so long as this obstacle re- 
 mained. Marriage was out of the question 
 when the only creature who could give her 
 away was a one-eyed mule. 
 
 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 Syl- 
 via's side. Perhaps he ought to have told her 
 all 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 inter- 
 fere?
 
 A FOOL'S PARADISE 203 
 
 But now he could be silent no longer. Natu- 
 rally the prospect of calling at Cottesmore Gar- 
 dens just then was anything but agreeable, but 
 he felt it would be cowardly to keep away. 
 
 Besides, he would cheer them up; he could 
 bring with him a message of hope. No doubt 
 they believed that the professor's transforma- 
 tion would be permanent a harrowing pros- 
 pect 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. 
 
 14
 
 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 
 204
 
 THE MESSENGER OF HOPE 205 
 
 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 Yentimore'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 added, with 
 a flash of suspicion.
 
 206 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " 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 for- 
 eign 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 ex- 
 plained, " 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."
 
 THE MESSENGER OF HOPE 207 
 
 If any departure from strict truth can ever 
 be excusable, this surely was one; unfortunate- 
 ly, 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 man- 
 age 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, noth- 
 ing 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 set- 
 tled 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 daugh- 
 ter, " 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 any- 
 thing." And she hurried out of the room. 
 
 Sylvia sat down and gazed silently into the 
 fire. " I dare say you don't know how dread-
 
 208 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 fully people kick when they've got gout," she 
 remarked presently. 
 
 " Oh, yes I do," said Horace sympathetical- 
 ly. " At least I can guess." 
 
 " Especially when it's in both legs," con- 
 tinued 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 anx- 
 iously. " 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 com-
 
 THE MESSENGER OF HOPE 209 
 
 fort her, " nothing can alter my profound re- 
 spect 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 and 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 inconven- 
 ience. I'll take care that he's all right again 
 before very long." 
 
 She started up and looked at him, her eyes 
 widened with growing dread and mistrust. " If 
 you can speak like that," she said, " it must 
 have been you who No, I can't believe it it 
 would be too horrible! " 
 
 " I who did what, Sylvia? "Weren't you 
 there when when it happened? " 
 
 "No," she replied. "I only heard of it after- 
 ward. Mother heard papa talking loudly in his 
 study this morning, as if he were 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 looking as usual, only a little excited ; 
 and then, without the slightest warning, just
 
 210 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 as she entered the room, 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 Hor- 
 ace fervently. " That was what I was most 
 afraid of." 
 
 " Then oh, Horace, it was you ! It's no 
 use denying it. I feel more sure of it every 
 moment." 
 
 " Now, Sylvia," he protested, still anxious, if 
 possible, to keep the worst from her, " what can 
 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 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 the 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 un- 
 gentlemanly trick on poor dad? If you had 
 ever really loved me "
 
 THE MESSENGER OF HOPE 211 
 
 " 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. " Hor- 
 ace, 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."
 
 212 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " Do you call it generous to change my 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 apolo- 
 gizes to poor father, and puts him right at 
 once." 
 
 " Why, of course he'll do that," Horace an- 
 swered 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?"
 
 THE MESSENGER OF HOPE 213 
 
 " 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, " be- 
 lieve 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 appro-
 
 214 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 priate, but eventually lie persuaded Mrs. Fut- 
 voye to conduct him to her husband's study. 
 
 " Anthony, love," she said, as she knocked 
 gently at the door, " I've brought Horace Vend- 
 more to see you for a few moments, if he may." 
 
 It seemed, from the sounds of furious snort- 
 ing and stamping within, that the professor re- 
 sented 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. Hor- 
 ace is so anxious to help " 
 
 As for Ventimore, he was speechless, so in- 
 expressibly 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 match wood; the glass doors 
 of the bookcase were starred or shivered; pre- 
 cious Egyptian pottery and glass were strewn 
 in fragments on the carpet ; and even the mum- 
 my, though it 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
 
 THE MESSENGER OF HOPE 215 
 
 him irresistibly of a certain " Blondin donkey " 
 he had seen enacted by music-hall artists at 
 the stage when 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 nov- 
 ice, 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 unwel- 
 come visitor. 
 
 " Listen to me, sir ! " said Horace, manoeu- 
 vring in his turn. " I'm not to blame for this, 
 and if you brain me, as you seem to be en- 
 deavouring 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 at- 
 tentive 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
 
 216 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 responsi- 
 bility for the proceedings of that infernal Jin- 
 nee. ... 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 sud- 
 den 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 natu- 
 rally upset. If I might suggest a little cham- 
 pagne 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 con- 
 sent." 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 cham- 
 pagne 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 pro- 
 ceeded: 
 
 " I have every hope, sir," he said, " that 
 before many hours you will be smiling pray
 
 THE MESSENGER OF HOPE 217 
 
 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 
 realizes 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 thor- 
 oughly 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-feel- 
 ing, to give me your your off foreleg at part- 
 ing, 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. Tut-
 
 218 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 voye, after they had rejoined Sylvia in the 
 drawing-room, " I'm afraid your husband is still 
 a little sore with me about this miserable busi- 
 ness." 
 
 " 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 attend- 
 ing that sale," said Horace, " you might remem- 
 ber 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 prop- 
 erly 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,
 
 THE MESSENGER OP HOPE 219 
 
 Sylvia; lie shall not remain as lie is. I swear 
 he shall not ! In another day or two, at the out- 
 side, 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 com- 
 mittee." 
 
 15
 
 220 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 im- 
 patiently 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 afflic- 
 tion? How long before all Kensington and the 
 whole civilized world knew that one of the lead- 
 ing Orientalists in Europe was restlessly pranc- 
 ing on four legs around his study in Cottesmore 
 Gardens? 
 
 Racked by speculations such as these, Yenti-
 
 THE MESSENGER OF HOPE 221 
 
 more 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 
 
 even his morning tub could brace 
 Ventimore's spirits to their usual cheerfulness. 
 After sending away his breakfast almost un- 
 tasted, 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 
 eight of his drawing table and materials 
 would, he knew, be intolerable in their mute 
 mockery. 
 
 Nor could he with any decency present him- 
 self again at Cottesmore Gardens while the situ- 
 ation still remained unchanged, as it must do 
 until he had seen Fakrash. 
 222
 
 A CHOICE OF EVILS . 223 
 
 When would the Jinnee return, or hor- 
 rible suspicion did he never intend to return 
 at all? 
 
 " Fakrash," he groaned aloud, " you can'i 
 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 hearth rug; and at this 
 accomplishment of his dearest desire all his in- 
 dignation 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 pro- 
 mote thy welfare." 
 
 " If you have been as brilliantly successful 
 up there as you have been down here," retorted 
 Horace, " I have much to thank you for." 
 
 " I am more than repaid," answered the 
 Jinnee, who, like many most estimable persons, 
 was almost impervious to irony, " by such assur- 
 ances of thy gratitude." 
 
 " I'm not grateful," said Horace, fuming. 
 " I'm devilish annoyed." 
 
 " Well hath it been written," replied the 
 Jinnee :
 
 224 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 "'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 turn- 
 ing a distinguished and perfectly inoffensive 
 scholar into a wall-eyed mule?" Horace burst 
 out. " If that is your idea of a practical 
 joke " 
 
 " It is one of the easiest affairs possible," 
 said the Jinnee, complacently running his fin- 
 gers through the thin strands of his beard. " I 
 have accomplished such transformations on sev- 
 eral occasions." 
 
 " Then you ought to be ashamed of your- 
 self; that's all. The question is now, how you 
 propose to restore him again? " 
 
 " Far from undoing be that which is accom- 
 plished! " 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? "
 
 A CHOICE OF EVILS 225 
 
 " 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. Des- 
 tiny 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 imagina- 
 tion? Can't you enter at all into the feelings 
 of a man a man of wide learning and reputa- 
 tion 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 in- 
 tention 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 ? "
 
 226 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " 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 can 
 not be undone." 
 
 "Can not 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 flat- 
 tery, " 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. Marvel- 
 lous! " 
 
 " 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 Hor- 
 ace. " Come, you know very well you can do 
 it if you only choose."
 
 A CHOICE OF EVILS 227 
 
 " It may be as thou sayest. But I do not 
 choose." 
 
 " Then, I think," said Horace, " that, con- 
 sidering the obligations 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," an- 
 swered 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 this 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 ? "
 
 228 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " 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 exe- 
 crated 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 alto- 
 gether 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 Hor- 
 ace, who had a private impression that the Jin- 
 nee's " past " would probably turn out to be 
 chiefly made up of peccadilloes. " But, any- 
 way, 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
 
 A CHOICE OF EVILS 229 
 
 it is naught to me where it is deposited," said 
 Fakrash, " since the only mortal who hath de- 
 ciphered it is now a dumb animal." 
 
 " !N"ot at all," said Horace. " There are sev- 
 eral friends of his who could decipher that in- 
 scription 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 gal- 
 vanized iron. You may think you've been ex- 
 tremely 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 among 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
 
 230 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 in Europe. I suppose you've thought of all 
 that?" 
 
 " O young man of marvellous sagacity! " 
 said the Jinnee. " Truly I had omitted to think 
 of 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 pur- 
 pose." 
 
 " 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 daugh- 
 ter, and to whom thou art contracted in mar- 
 riage. 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."
 
 A CHOICE OF EVILS 231 
 
 " 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 your- 
 self up in commonplace English clothes just 
 for once something that wouldn't attract so 
 much attention? " 
 
 " "Will this satisfy thee? " inquired the Jin- 
 nee, as his green turban and flowing robes sud- 
 denly resolved themselves into the conventional 
 chimney-pot hat, frock-coat, and trousers of 
 modern civilization. 
 
 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 min- 
 utes." 
 
 " "We shall be there in less than twenty 
 seconds," said the Jinnee, seizing him by the 
 arm above the elbow, and Horace found him- 
 self suddenly carried up into the air and set
 
 232 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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. Lon- 
 doners 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 won't mind waiting outside. I'll come 
 to the window and wave my pocket handker- 
 chief when they're ready. And do come in by 
 the door like an ordinary person, and ask the 
 maid-servant if you may see me." 
 
 " I will bear it in mind," answered the Jin- 
 nee, 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
 
 A CHOICE OF EVILS 233 
 
 said, with the unnatural calm of suppressed hys- 
 teria. " 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's 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 un- 
 expectedly, "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 some- 
 thing 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, Hor- 
 ace?" 
 
 " Yes. I think I have brought him to see
 
 234 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 that lie lias made a foolish mistake in enchant- 
 ing your unfortunate father, and he seems will- 
 ing 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. How- 
 ever, 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, an-
 
 A CHOICE OF EVILS 235 
 
 nounced, " Mr. Fatrasher Larmasli 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 un- 
 cover 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 Fut- 
 voye," 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 acknowledg- 
 ment 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 dis- 
 tressed 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 
 16
 
 236 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 whisper, "if if it isn't troubling you too 
 much." 
 
 " I have been turning over thy words in my 
 mind," said Fakrash, 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 in- 
 difference, " that I have naught to gain by 
 demanding back the seal as the price of re- 
 storing this damsel's father to his original 
 form. Wherefore, so far as I am concerned, 
 let him remain a mule forever, unless, in- 
 deed, thou art ready to comply with my condi- 
 tions." 
 
 " Conditions ! " cried Horace, utterly unpre- 
 pared for this conclusion. " What can you pos- 
 sibly 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,
 
 A CHOICE OF EVILS 237 
 
 " and you know it. I will never give her up, 
 so long as she is willing to keep me." 
 
 " Maiden," said the Jinnee, addressing Syl- 
 via 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 
 thousand-fold 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 re- 
 main 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!"
 
 238 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 "Heaven help us both!" groaned Yenti- 
 more. " 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 van- 
 ished 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
 
 A CHOICE OF EVILS 239 
 
 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, dar- 
 ling," 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 unreason- 
 able 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, rue- 
 fully 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 Fak- 
 rash." 
 
 " 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, Hor-
 
 240 THE BEASS BOTTLE 
 
 ace," 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 Jin- 
 nee, suddenly reappearing. " For the period of 
 deliberation is past." 
 
 " Miss Futvoye and I," Horace answered 
 for her, " are willing to consider our engage- 
 ment at an end until you approve of its re- 
 newal, 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 ex- 
 claimed. "And who is this gentleman?" 
 
 " This," said Horace, " is the er author 
 of the professor's misfortunes, and he has 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
 
 A CHOICE OF EVILS 241 
 
 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 profess- 
 or seemed to recognise his tormentor, in spite of 
 his changed raiment, and was so powerfully agi- 
 tated 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 to 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 articu- 
 late 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 
 wert." 
 
 " 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
 
 242 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 im- 
 part. 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 ordi- 
 nary conjurer might do. 
 
 " Now raise thy right fore-foot," he said, 
 " and swear by all thou holdest sacred never to
 
 A CHOICE OP EVILS 43 
 
 divulge what thou hast learned." 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 con- 
 tents, exclaimed : " Quit this form and return 
 to the form in which thou wert ! " 
 
 For a dreadful moment or two it seemed as 
 if no effect was to be produced; the animal
 
 244 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 simply stood and shivered, and Yentimore began 
 to feel an agonizing 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 
 arm-chair (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 im- 
 pressive 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 
 PABT " 
 
 As soon as the professor seemed to have re- 
 gained 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 as a singularly ill-favoured 
 quadruped. 
 
 " There, there," said the professor, as he 
 submitted to their embraces and incoherent con- 
 gratulations, " 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 com- 
 mon 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 inconven- 
 ience. But that's always the way with women 
 
 lose their heads the moment anything goes 
 
 245
 
 246 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 wrong. If I had not kept perfectly cool my- 
 self " 
 
 " It was very stupid of us not to think of 
 it, papa," said Sylvia, tactfully ignoring the 
 fact that there was scarcely an undamaged arti- 
 cle in the room. " Still, you know, if we had 
 thrown the water, it might not 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
 
 "COME, LET US KISS AND PART" 247 
 
 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 suave- 
 ly. " For such an alliance would be totally un- 
 worthy 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 do- 
 mestic affairs." 
 
 " Excellent is the saying," remarked the im- 
 perturbable Jinnee, " ' Let the rat that is be- 
 tween 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 diffi- 
 cult undertaking." 
 
 " I think I failed to make myself clear," 
 the professor hastened to observe, " failed to 
 make myself clear. I I merely meant to con-
 
 248 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 gratulate 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 un- 
 fortunate 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 favour- 
 ite 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."
 
 "COME, LET US KISS AND PART" 249 
 
 " 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 ac- 
 complishments? " 
 
 " You know perfectly well you never men- 
 tioned 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 be- 
 holds the resplendent beauty of her counte- 
 nance he will swoon away with delight and 
 forget thy very existence." 
 
 " I shall do nothing of the sort ! " said Hor- 
 ace savagely. " Just understand that I don't 
 intend to marry any princess. You may pre- 
 vent 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 perfec- 
 tions thou wilt need no compulsion," said Fak-
 
 250 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 rash. " And if thou shouldst refuse, know this: 
 that thou wilt be exposing those who are dear 
 to thee in the household to calamities of the 
 most unfortunate description." 
 
 The awful vagueness of this threat com- 
 pletely crushed Horace; he could not think, he 
 did not even dare to imagine, what conse- 
 quences he might bring upon his beloved Syl- 
 via 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, Yentimore," said the profess- 
 or, with acidulous politeness, " but, interesting 
 as the discussion of your matrimonial arrange- 
 ments is to you and your protector, I should 
 greatly prefer that you chose 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 con- 
 veniently 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," an- 
 swered the Jinnee, and, to Mrs. Futvoye's and
 
 "COME, LET US KISS AND PART" 251 
 
 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 alli- 
 ance, in which I am sure you have our best 
 wishes all our best wishes," he added point- 
 edly. 
 
 " Sylvia," said Horace, still lingering, " be- 
 fore 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." 
 17
 
 252 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " You believe I was an accomplice in that 
 old fool's plot? " lie 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 Hor- 
 ace. " 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 be- 
 lieve 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 com-
 
 " COME, LET US KISS AND PART " 253 
 
 mand 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 / don't forget if Anthony does that, but 
 for you, he might, instead of sitting there com- 
 fortably in his arm-chair, be lashing out with 
 his hind legs and kicking everything to pieces 
 at this very moment." 
 
 " I deny that I lashed out," said the profess- 
 or. " My ah 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 
 amid 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 noth- 
 ing 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
 
 254 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 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 pa- 
 thetically drawn mouth and flushed cheeks. 
 " And I shall think of you always." 
 
 " And you won't fall in love with your prin- 
 cess? " entreated Sylvia, at the end of her altru- 
 ism. " Promise ! " 
 
 " If I am ever provided with one," he re- 
 plied, " 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 com- 
 mon 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
 
 "COME, LET US KISS AND PART" 255 
 
 was set down, he could not have 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 favour- 
 able conclusion," said Fakrash. " Well hath the 
 poet written " 
 
 " I don't think I can stand any more t ele- 
 gant 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 en- 
 tertain the idea for a moment. And, if she did,
 
 256 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 she would forfeit her rank and cease to be a 
 princess, and I should probably be imprisoned 
 in a fortress for Use-ma jeste, or something." 
 
 " Dismiss thy fears, for I do not propose to 
 unite thee to any princess that is born of mor- 
 tals. The bride I intend for thee is a Jinnee- 
 yeh the peerless Bedeea-el-Jemal, daughter of 
 my kinsman, Shahyal, the ruler of the Blue 
 Jinn." 
 
 " 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 en- 
 thusiasm, " is like unto the keen edge of a pol- 
 ished sword, her hair resembleth jewels, and her 
 cheeks are ruddy as wine. She hath heavy hips, 
 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 be protected 
 from 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;
 
 "COME, LET US KISS AND PART" 257 
 
 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 inclosed by Suley- 
 man 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 gray than any other 
 colour." 
 
 "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 ques- 
 tion is still in the bloom of early youth, I see 
 one fatal difficulty to becoming her suitor." 
 
 " Doubtless," said the Jinnee, " thou art re-
 
 258 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 f erring 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 over- 
 throw 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 disposi- 
 tion," 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'd 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
 
 "COME, LET US KISS AND PART" 259 
 
 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 trans- 
 formations," 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 Jar- 
 jarees, 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 
 would 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
 
 260 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 be that mortal, since thou art both strong and 
 fearless; and, moreover, it is predestined also 
 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 con- 
 sort 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 Fak- 
 rash, " 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
 
 "COME, LET US KISS AND PART" 261 
 
 to film over in the disagreeable manner charac- 
 teristic of certain birds. 
 
 "Proceed!" said Fakrash, unskinning his 
 eyes for a second. " I am hearkening unto 
 thee." 
 
 " It seems to me," stammered Horace incon- 
 sequently enough, " that all that time inside a 
 bottle well, you can't call it experience exact- 
 ly and possibly in the interval you've forgot- 
 ten 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 rela- 
 tion 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,
 
 262 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 pro- 
 posing 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 inconsider- 
 able 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? " in- 
 quired 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.
 
 "COME, LET US KISS AND PART" 263 
 
 " 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 Hor- 
 ace. " 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 so- 
 ciety papers." 
 
 " I can not believe that thou, who seemest 
 a gracious and talented young man, can be in- 
 deed 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 in- 
 habitants in this London of ours. If you go 
 out into the streets, and ask the first five hun- 
 dred 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
 
 264 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 took this suggestion seriously. " I will go 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 dis- 
 aster, 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 en- 
 cumbered with a Jinneeyeh bride several cen- 
 turies my senior before I know where I am. 
 No, I forgot; there's the jealous Jarjarees to be 
 polished off first. I seem to remember some-
 
 "COME, LET US KISS AND PART" 65 
 
 thing 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 pos- 
 sess quite as much historical value as many 
 works with graver pretensions 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 unpleas- 
 antly 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 Eakrash 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 Men- 
 dicant, had revenged himself by striking off 
 her hands, her feet, and her head, and trans-
 
 266 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 forming his human rival into an ape. " Be- 
 tween 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 Jar- 
 jarees, who presented himself " in a most hide- 
 ous shape, with hands like winnowing forks, and 
 legs like masts, and eyes like burning torches," 
 which was calculated to unnerve the stoutest 
 novice. The Ef reet began by transforming him- 
 self 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 wolf; he to a burst pomegran- 
 ate, 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 toward him," continued 
 the narrator, " we perceived that he had be- 
 come a heap of ashes." 
 
 " Come," said Horace to himself. " That 
 puts Jarjarees out of action, anyway. The odd
 
 "COME, LET US KISS AND PART" 267 
 
 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 in- 
 formation upon Oriental habits and modes of 
 thought and speech which might come in use- 
 fully later, it was not until he arrived at the 
 twenty-fourth chapter of the third volume that 
 his interest really revived. 
 
 For the twenty-fourth 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 daugh- 
 ter of Shahyal, one of the kings of the believing 
 Jinn; her father not Fakrash, as he had in- 
 correctly asserted had offered her in marriage 
 to no less a personage than King Solomon him- 
 self, who, however, had preferred the Queen of 
 Sheba. Seyf, the son of the king of Egypt, 
 18
 
 268 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 afterward fell desperately in love with Bedeea, 
 but she and her grandmother both declared that 
 between mankind and the Jinn 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 learned that, after many ad- 
 ventures which need not be mentioned here, 
 the devoted Seyf did actually succeed in gain- 
 ing the proud Bedeea as his wife. " Even Fak- 
 rash 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 rea- 
 soned, " it means that Seyf and Bedeea are 
 both deceased. Even a Jinneeyeh seems 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
 
 "COME, LET US KISS AND PART" 269 
 
 glad I found all 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 im- 
 proved spirits, he went to bed and was soon 
 sound asleep.
 
 CHAPTER XY 
 
 BLUSHING HONOURS 
 
 IT was rather late the next morning when 
 Ventimore opened his eyes, to discover the Jin- 
 nee 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 pro- 
 duce 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. Sup- 
 270
 
 BLUSHING HONOURS 71 
 
 posing, 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 joy- 
 fully." 
 
 "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 Jin- 
 nee, 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 en- 
 tertainment " and when thou hast broken thy 
 fast prepare to accompany me." 
 
 " Before I agree to that," said Horace, sit-
 
 272 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 ting 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 sown with gems, 
 he joined Fakrash who, by the way, was simi- 
 larly, 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 bar- 
 baric liveries standing by the pavement below. 
 " Whose carriage is that? " he asked. 
 
 " It belongs to thee," said the Jinnee. " De-
 
 BLUSHING HONOURS 273 
 
 scend, 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 disobedi- 
 ence?" 
 
 "Oh, very well," said Horace irritably. "If 
 you insist on my making a fool of myself, I sup- 
 pose I must. But where am I to drive, and 
 why?" 
 
 " That," replied Fakrash, " thou shalt dis- 
 cover at the fitting moment." And so, amid 
 the shouts of the spectators, Yentimore 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 re- 
 spective 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
 
 274: THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 bride- 
 groom? No one but Fakrash would have con- 
 ceived such an idea as marrying him to a 
 Jinneyeh 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 impa- 
 tient. 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
 
 BLUSHING HONOURS 275 
 
 that even Fakrash could have arranged the cere- 
 mony 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 car- 
 riage rolled on amid 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 ban- 
 quets, 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 hazily, " but I really
 
 276 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 juris- 
 diction or the county council's. 
 
 Fakrash remained silent till 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 be- 
 fore?" 
 
 " Till now," said the Jinnee, " I have had 
 no leisure to observe them and discover their 
 nature." 
 
 " Well," said Horace, anxious to let the Jin- 
 nee see that he had not the monopoly of mira- 
 cles, " since your day 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 all with a certainty and precision
 
 BLUSHING HONOURS 277 
 
 that throw even your performances, my dear 
 sir, entirely into the shade." 
 
 Considering what a very large majority of 
 civilized persons would be as powerless to con- 
 struct 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 trib- 
 ute; 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 overcom- 
 ing his terror, is quite as competent to do as 
 we are. 
 
 It is a harmless vanity enough, and espe- 
 cially pardonable in Ventimore's case, when it 
 was so desirable to correct any tendency to " up- 
 pishness " 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."
 
 278 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 The Jinnee seemed engrossed in his own 
 thoughts, for he said no more just then. 
 
 They were now nearing St. Paul's Cathe- 
 dral, 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 toward 
 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 Yentimore. 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," an- 
 swered Fakrash. 
 
 " What bosh! " said Horace. " They mis- 
 take me for the Shah or somebody and no won- 
 der, in this get-up." 
 
 " Not so," said the Jinnee. " Thy names 
 are familiar to them." 
 
 Horace glanced up at the hastily improvised
 
 BLUSHING HONOURS 279 
 
 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, Venti- 
 more! " 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 tom- 
 foolery 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 fellowmen 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 Hor- 
 ace's eye. 
 
 " Was it, though? " said Horace, in a white 
 rage. " I don't want to be inquisitive, but I
 
 280 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 should like to know what I've done to de- 
 serve 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 Cheap- 
 side and was entering King Street. 
 
 " This really won't do," urged Horace. 
 " It's not fair to me. Either I've done some- 
 thing 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 Jin- 
 nee, in some confusion, " I am truly as ignorant 
 as thyself." 
 
 As he spoke they drove through some tem- 
 porary wooden gates into the court-yard, where 
 the Honourable Artillery Company presented 
 arms to them, and the carriage drew up before 
 a large marquee decorated with shields and clus- 
 tered banners. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Fakrash," said Horace with sup- 
 pressed fury, as he alighted, " you have sur- 
 passed 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."
 
 BLUSHING HONOURS 281 
 
 " Have no uneasiness/' said the Jinnee, as 
 lie 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 ap- 
 plause and admiration, and an official who in- 
 troduced himself as the Prime Warden of the 
 Candlestickmakers 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 Hor- 
 ace, with the Jinnee in his rear, made his way 
 through a lane of distinguished spectators to- 
 ward a dai's, on the steps of which, in his gold- 
 trimmed robes and black-feathered hat, stood 
 the Lord Mayor with his sword- and mace-bear- 
 ers 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 pre-
 
 282 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 sent. 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 repre- 
 sentative of the greatest and richest city in the 
 world. 
 
 Horace approached the steps with an un- 
 pleasant 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-sighted- 
 ness and ignorance had planted him in his pres- 
 ent false position, had mysteriously and per- 
 fidiously disappeared, and left him to grapple 
 with the situation single-handed.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 A KILLING FROST 
 
 FORTUNATELY for Ventimore, the momen- 
 tary dismay he had felt on finding himself de- 
 serted by his incomprehensible Jinnee at the 
 very outset of the ceremony passed unnoticed, 
 as the Prime Warden of the Candlestickmakers 
 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 Magis- 
 trate 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 great- 
 est 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 ab- 
 solute sincerity, " you really overwhelm me. I 
 I only wish I could feel that I had done any- 
 19 283
 
 284 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 thing to deserve this this magnificent compli- 
 ment." 
 
 " Ah ! " replied the Lord Mayor, in a pa- 
 ternally 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 all 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 extemporized buffet at one end of the 
 Library, where he fortified himself for the im-
 
 A KILLING FROST 285 
 
 pending ordeal with a caviare sandwich and a 
 bumper of the driest champagne in the Cor- 
 poration cellars. 
 
 " They talk of abolishing us," said the Lord 
 Mayor, as he took an anchovy on toast, " but I 
 maintain, Mr. Yentimore 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 illustra- 
 tion of our antiquated procedure which may im- 
 press you as quaint." 
 
 Horace, feeling absolutely idiotic, mur- 
 mured that he felt sure it would do that. 
 
 " Before presenting you for the freedom, 
 the Prime Warden and five officials of the Can- 
 dlestickmakers Company will give their testi- 
 mony 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 not desire the free- 
 dom of this City whereby to defraud the Queen
 
 286 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 or the City.' Ha-ha! curious way of putting 
 it, is it not? " 
 
 " Very," said Horace guiltily, and not a 
 little concerned on the officials 7 account. 
 
 " A mere form," said the Lord Mayor; " but 
 I, for one, Mr. Ventimore I, for one, should be 
 sorry to see these picturesque old practices die 
 out. To my mind," he added, as he finished a 
 pate de foie gras sandwich, " the modern im- 
 patience to sweep away all the ancient land- 
 marks (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 Oriental attire, " I'm afraid 
 this is not quite the sort of dress for such a cere- 
 mony. 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 wait- 
 ing 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
 
 A KILLING FROST 287 
 
 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 Yentimore 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 any- 
 thing whatever to justify it, for it was ridicu- 
 lous to suppose that he had rendered himself a 
 public benefactor by restoring a convicted Jin- 
 nee 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 he would find out before the ceremony 
 was over what were the particular services 
 which had excited so much enthusiasm. 
 
 Meanwhile he stood there on the crimson- 
 draped and flower-bedecked dais, bowing repeat- 
 edly and trusting that he did not look so for- 
 lornly foolish as he felt. A long shaft of sun- 
 light 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; 
 there was a rustle of expectation in the audi-
 
 288 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 ence, 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 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 one to 
 four on the agenda need not be discussed," 
 which brought them to item five. 
 
 Item five was a resolution, read by the town 
 clerk, that " the freedom of the City should be 
 presented to Horace Yentimore, Esquire, Citi- 
 zen and Candlestickmaker " (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 con- 
 nection 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
 
 A KILLING FROST 289 
 
 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 mouth- 
 piece 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 " illus- 
 trious 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
 
 290 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 he plain Horace Yentimore, 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 god- 
 desses, 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 con- 
 tempt ; and that the effigy of Lord Mayor Beck- 
 ford 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 chamber- 
 lain resuming, " you are probably aware, sir, 
 that it is customary on these occasions to men- 
 tion specifically the particular merit which has 
 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," pro- 
 ceeded 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
 
 A KILLING FROST 291 
 
 it is already so appreciatively familiar." At 
 this he was interrupted by deafening and long- 
 continued applause, at the end of which he con- 
 tinued : " 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 Candlestickmaker of London." 
 
 As he shook hands he presented Horace with 
 a cop_y of the oath of allegiance, intimating that 
 he was to read it aloud. Naturally Ventimore 
 had not the slightest 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 cheer- 
 fully enough, and hoped that this was really the 
 end of the ceremony. 
 
 However, to his great chagrin and appre- 
 hension, 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 Venti- 
 more had been here he hesitated somewhat 
 hastily arrived at. Personally he would have 
 liked a longer time to prepare, to make the dis- 
 play less inadequate to and worthier of this 
 exceptional occasion. He thought that was the
 
 292 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 general feeling. (It evidently was, judging 
 from the loud and unanimous cheering.) How- 
 ever, for reasons which 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 ex- 
 traordinary enthusiasm and assemblage, not 
 only in that noble hall, but in the thoroughfares 
 of this mighty metropolis. Under the circum- 
 stances, this was a truly marvellous tribute to 
 the admiration and affection which Mr. Venti- 
 more 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. Yentimore's acceptance of a golden 
 casket containing the roll of freedom, and he 
 felt sure that his distinguished guest, before 
 proceeding to inscribe his name on the regis- 
 ter, would oblige them all by some account 
 from his own lips of of the events in which
 
 A KILLING FROST 293 
 
 he had figured so prominently and so cred- 
 itably. 
 
 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 toward the 
 rail in front of the da'is, and the roar of applause 
 which greeted him saved him from all neces- 
 sity of attempting to speak for nearly two min- 
 utes. 
 
 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 cer- 
 tainty. 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 posi- 
 tion, 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, con- 
 vinced that his best alternative now lay in per- 
 fect candour. 
 
 " My Lord Mayor, my lords, ladies, and 
 gentlemen," he began, in a clear voice which
 
 294 THE BKASS BOTTLE 
 
 penetrated to the farthest gallery and com- 
 manded 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 acknowledg- 
 ment. I wish I could feel I had, but the simple 
 truth is that, if I have, the fact has entirely 
 slipped from my memory." 
 
 Again there were murmurs this time with 
 a certain undercurrent of irritation; and he 
 could hear the Lord Mayor behind him remark- 
 ing to the city chamberlain that this was not 
 at all the kind of speech for the occasion. 
 
 " I know what you're all thinking," said 
 Horace. " You're thinking this is mock mod- 
 esty 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 Corpora- 
 tion would not have given me that very charm-
 
 A KILLING FROST 295 
 
 ing casket and you would not all of you be here 
 like this unless there were 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
 
 296 THE BRASS BOTTLE, 
 
 for me / I really can not 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 with- 
 out 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 on this. The 
 silence grew so intense that, to borrow a slightly 
 involved metaphor from a distinguished friend 
 of the writer, " you might have picked a pin 
 up 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 pres- 
 ent 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
 
 A KILLING FROST 297 
 
 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 in- 
 terests as in mine. I merely thought that when 
 you all clearly understood how grossly you've 
 been deluded you might prefer to have the de- 
 tails 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 dis- 
 agreeable for me than it is already," said Hor- 
 ace, as soon as he could obtain a hearing again. 
 " You don't suppose that I should have come 
 here in this tomfool 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 head- 
 strong force which I am utterly unable to con- 
 trol . ."
 
 298 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 Upon this a fresh, uproar arose and for 
 some time prevented him from continuing. " I 
 only ask for fair play and a patient hearing," 
 he pleaded. " Give me that, and I will under- 
 take 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 short time since, I happened to go 
 to an auction and buy a large brass bottle " 
 
 For some 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 un- 
 fortunate head. Luckily for him, it missed 
 him and only caught one of the officials (Horace 
 was not in a mood to notice details very accu- 
 rately, but he had a notion that it was the city 
 remembrancer) somewhere about the region of 
 the watch-pocket.
 
 A KILLING FROST 299 
 
 "Will you hear me out?" Yentimore 
 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 
 coat 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 in violent hysterics of 
 several ladies of great distinction. 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 outer air, causing 
 the pigeons on the roof to whir up in a flutter 
 of alarm. 
 
 Of course he knew that it was the Jinnee 
 who was abducting him in this sensational man- 
 ner, 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. 
 
 20
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 HIGH WOEDS 
 
 ONCE outside in the open air, the Jinnee 
 " towered " like a pheasant shot through the 
 head, and Horace closed his eyes with a swing- 
 switchback and channel-passage sensation dur- 
 ing a flight which apparently continued for 
 hours, although in reality it probably did not 
 occupy more than a very few seconds. His un- 
 easiness was still further increased by his in- 
 ability 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 realized 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 just under the ball at 
 
 the top of St. Paul's. 
 300
 
 HIGH WORDS 301 
 
 Many feet beneath him spread the dull 
 leaden summit of the dome, its raised ridges 
 stretched 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 
 gray columns and urn-topped buttresses, and 
 gilded pine-apples 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 pearly 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 the 
 moored barges and steamers lying in black 
 clusters; a small tug was fussing noisily down 
 the river, leaving a broadening arrow-head in 
 its wake. 
 
 Cautiously he moved round toward the east, 
 where the houses formed a broad 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, gray, and umber 
 smoke, and lightened by plumes and jets of sil-
 
 302 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 very 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 ex- 
 tent. 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 Fak- 
 rash had chosen to plant him up there in so in- 
 secure 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
 
 HIGH WORDS 303 
 
 should not raise their eyes. Be seated, there- 
 fore, and hear my words." 
 
 Horace lowered himself carefully to a sit- 
 ting 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 ag- 
 grieved tone. " Thou hast been near the com- 
 mittal of a great blunder, and doing ill to thee 
 and to myself." 
 
 "Well, I do like that!" retorted Horace. 
 " When you let me in for all the 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 by 
 my coat collar! 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
 
 304: THE BEASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 laugh- 
 ter certainly not envy. Good lord, Fakrash ! " 
 he cried, in his indignation, " I've never felt 
 such an absolute ass in my whole life. If noth- 
 ing would satisfy you but my receiving the free- 
 dom of the city, you might at least have con- 
 trived 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 popu- 
 lace should come forth to acclaim thee and do 
 thee honour, so long as they did so? " said Fak- 
 rash 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 are taking all this trouble 
 for nothing." 
 
 " How sayest thou? " 
 
 " Well, you would have discovered that the 
 princess is spared all temptation to marry be- 
 neath her by the fact that she became the bride 
 of somebody else about thirty centuries ago.
 
 HIGH WORDS 305 
 
 She married a mortal, one Seyf-el-Mulook, a 
 king's son, and they've both been dead a con- 
 siderable 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 evi- 
 dence 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 so 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 un- 
 fold 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
 
 306 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 misbegotten dog into the august presence of 
 the great Lord Mayor himself on whom be 
 peace 1 " cried the Jinnee. 
 
 " I object to being referred to as a misbe- 
 gotten 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 pin- 
 nacles, 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 tune. And it's all your fault." 
 
 " It was thy doing. Why didst thou dare 
 to inform the Lord Mayor that he was de- 
 ceived? " 
 
 " Why? Because I thought he ought to 
 know. Because I was bound, particularly after 
 my oath of allegiance, to warn him of any con- 
 spiracy 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."
 
 HIGH WORDS 307 
 
 " You gave yourself away," said Horace. 
 " They all saw you, you know. They'll recog- 
 nise 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 remark. You 
 see, you happen to be the only unbottled Jinnee 
 in the 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 for 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 realize 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 con- 
 veyance of yours standing outside the Guild- 
 hall. Think of the assembly inside all the 
 most aristocratic, noble, and distinguished per- 
 sonages in the land," continued Horace, piling
 
 308 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 will they preserve 
 silence," said Fakrash, with a flash 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 is 
 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 re- 
 porters will be handing in their special descrip- 
 tions of you and your latest vagaries to their 
 respective journals within half an hour. Bills 
 will be carried through every quarter of Lon- 
 don bills with enormous letters : ' Extraordi- 
 nary 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
 
 HIGH WORDS 309 
 
 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 are 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 done 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 recog- 
 nise 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 toward Cheap- 
 side.
 
 310 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 that I know," said 
 the Jinnee. " And it may be that I have lost 
 power to perform it. Yet will I make the en- 
 deavour." And, stretching forth his right hand 
 toward the east, he muttered some kind of com- 
 mand or invocation. 
 
 Horace almost fell off the cornice with ap- 
 prehension of what might follow. Would it be 
 a thunderbolt, a plague, some frightful convul- 
 sion of Nature? He felt sure that Fakrash 
 would hesitate at no means, however violent, of 
 burying in oblivion all traces of his blunder, and 
 very little hope that, whatever he did, it would 
 prove anything but some worse indiscretion. 
 
 However, 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 Jin- 
 nee's weird gesticulations, a lurid belt of fog 
 came rolling up from the direction of the Royal 
 Exchange, swallowing up building after build-
 
 HIGH WORDS 311 
 
 ing in its rapid course; one by one the Guild- 
 hall, Bow Church, Cheapside itself, and the 
 churchyard disappeared, and Horace, turning 
 his head to the left, saw the murky tide sweep- 
 ing on westward, blotting out Ludgate Hill, the 
 Strand, Charing Cross, and Westminster, till at 
 last he and Fakrash were alone above a limit- 
 less 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 housetops grad- 
 ually reappearing. Only the flags, with their 
 unrestful shiver and play of colour, had disap- 
 peared, and with them the waiting crowds and 
 the mounted constables. The ordinary traffic of 
 vans, omnibuses, and cabs was proceeding as if 
 it had never been interrupted; the clank and 
 jingle of harness chains, the cries and whip- 
 crackings of drivers, rose with curious distinct- 
 ness above the incessant trampling roar which 
 is the ground swell of the human ocean. 
 
 " That cloud which thou sawest," said Fak- 
 rash, " hath swept away with it all memory of 
 this day's doings from the minds of every mortal 
 below us. See, they go about their several busi-
 
 312 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 nesses, 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, 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 uncom- 
 fortable. 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 de- 
 ceitful 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,"
 
 HIGH WORDS 313 
 
 he said aloud, " I don't understand this tone of 
 jours. 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 him- 
 self together. 
 
 " Oh, come now ! " he said. " You don't 
 mean that, you know. After all your kindness! 
 You're much too good natured, really, 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 Fak- 
 rash quite seriously, in spite of all his super- 
 natural 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
 
 314: THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 toward 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 but 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 Fak- 
 rash. 
 
 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
 
 HIGH WORDS 315 
 
 enough in some respects, was not quite such, a 
 fool as that. Sometimes the Jinn could be molli- 
 fied 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 anec- 
 dotes forever. 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 Jin- 
 nee, " 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 
 hurry." 
 
 " With me it is otherwise," retorted Fak- 
 rash, making a stride toward him. " Therefore 
 covet not life, for thy death hath become un- 
 avoidable." 
 
 " Before we part," said Horace, " you won't 
 
 refuse to answer one or two questions? " 
 21
 
 316 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " There is no need. 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 char- 
 acter. 
 
 " 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 best 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 
 consideration, " 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.
 
 HIGH WORDS 317 
 
 " 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 realized that his fate would de- 
 pend upon what he said next.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 LETTING HIM GO 
 
 " 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 dar- 
 ing to look below again lest he should lose his 
 head altogether. 
 
 " I'm coming to it," said Yentimore. " I 
 want to know why you should propose to dash 
 me to pieces in this unfriendly 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 Suley- 
 man." 
 
 " What on earth have you got into your 
 head? You can't mean the Lord Mayor! " 
 318
 
 LETTING HIM GO 319 
 
 " 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 Fak- 
 rash 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 slug- 
 gish waters; others, again, imprisoned in lofty 
 pillars, from which the smoke of their breath 
 ascendeth into heaven? Doth not the air throb
 
 320 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 in- 
 terest to undeceive him; indeed, it's quite the 
 other way." 
 
 "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 I had slain thee on that 
 account." 
 
 " Tour proper course," said Horace, " would 
 be to hand me over to him and let Mm 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 can not
 
 LETTING HIM GO 321 
 
 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 Hor- 
 ace. " You see all those wires stretched on 
 poles down there? Those are pervaded by cer- 
 tain forces 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 per- 
 fectly 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 Fak- 
 rash. 
 
 " 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
 
 322 THE BEASS BOTTLE 
 
 more," said the Jinnee, " would not even the 
 Lord Mayor have respect unto the seal of Suley- 
 man 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 com- 
 pelled 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 at once. Suppose we go back to Vin- 
 cent 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 by my- 
 self? " 
 
 " By no means ! " replied the Jinnee. 
 " Have I not said that I am about to cast thee
 
 LETTING HIM GO 323 
 
 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're going to manage 
 the rest of your programme without me; that's 
 all." 
 
 " O deficient in intelligence ! " cried the Jin- 
 nee. " 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 
 within it. I am indebted to thee for reminding 
 me thereof."
 
 324 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " Not at all," said Ventiraore. " 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 in- 
 ferior 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 Hor- 
 ace. " 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,
 
 LETTING HIM GO 325 
 
 as it happens, I'm just the one person living 
 \vho 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 un- 
 decidedly, " I might find it in my heart to spare 
 thee were I but sure that thou wouldst be faith- 
 ful 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 to 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."
 
 326 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " 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 drop now, you lose 
 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 honour- 
 able precision, and dropped him neatly into the 
 arm-chair 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,
 
 LETTING HIM GO 327 
 
 " 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 gray 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."
 
 328 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 He slipped on some clothes hurriedly, and 
 re-entered the sitting-room. " Now, Mr. Fak- 
 rash," 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 for- 
 bearing 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 spoiled that be- 
 cause 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, who 
 will never 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 of putting things straight for me I'm 
 hanged if I take the trouble to seal you up in 
 that bottle!"
 
 LETTING HIM GO 329 
 
 " 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 every- 
 thing connected with it, can't you? " 
 
 " There would be no difficulty in that," Fak- 
 rash 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 Fak- 
 rash, " for I can not believe but that thou hast 
 some 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 con- 
 tinued, " 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 
 Eapkin the same, to see you riding off this morn-
 
 330 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 ing in that gorgeous chariot and 'orses and 
 dressed that lovely! 'Depend upon it/ I says 
 to Rapkin, I says, ' depend upon it, Mr. Venti- 
 more '11 be sent for to Buckinham Pallis, if it 
 ain't Windsor Castle! ' " 
 
 " Never mind that now," said Horace im- 
 patiently. " 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 wishing to have 
 the place lumbered up with rubbish, disposed 
 of it only 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."
 
 LETTING HIM GO 331 
 
 " 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 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 punish- 
 ments." 
 
 " I'll be back in half an hour at most," said 
 Horace, feeling that this would allow him ample 
 23
 
 332 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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 mat- 
 tresses, empty clock cases, tarnished and cracked 
 looking-glasses, 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. 
 
 Yentimore went in and found a youth of 
 about thirteen straining his eyes in the fading 
 light over one of the halfpenny humorous jour- 
 nals which, thanks to an improved system of 
 education, at least eighty per cent of our juve- 
 nile 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 a 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."
 
 LETTING HIM GO 333 
 
 "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 any- 
 thing of that kind? " 
 
 " Don't keep 'em," said the boy, and buried 
 himself once more in his copy of Spicy Snig- 
 gers. 
 
 " I'll 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 unspeak- 
 able joy, he discovered it under a piece of tat- 
 tered 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 Hor- 
 ace, 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."
 
 334 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " It's more than it's wurf," replied the can- 
 did youth. 
 
 " Perhaps," said Horace, " but I'm rather 
 pressed for time. If you'll change this sover- 
 eign, I'll take the bottle away with me." 
 
 " You seem uncommon anxious to git 'old 
 on it, mister," said the boy, with sudden sus- 
 picion. 
 
 "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 ony 'ere to see as nobody 
 don't come in and sneak fings. I ain't got au- 
 thority to sell anyfink and I don't know the 
 proice o' miffink, so there you 'ave it."
 
 LETTING HIM GO 335 
 
 " 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? Ko, 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 tempta- 
 tion with disastrous consequences had not an 
 elderly man entered the shop at that moment. 
 He was bent, and carried 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 'e 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 auntiquities to make a 
 orfer like that! " 
 
 " Perhaps not," said Horace, " but I know 
 what this one is worth to me. Still, let us say 
 six shillings."
 
 336 THE BEASS BOTTLE 
 
 " 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 im- 
 pressively, if rather ambiguously. 
 
 " Your memory misleads you," 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 dessay it's correct, sir," 
 said Mr. Dilger, without exhibiting the least 
 confusion. " And if I did buy it off Mr. Rap- 
 kin, he's a respectable party and ain't likely to 
 have come by it dishonestly." 
 
 " 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 use 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 shilling," said Mr. Dilger 
 affectionately. " It would be robbin' myself." 
 
 " I'll give you a sovereign for it there,"
 
 LETTING HIM GO 337 
 
 said Horace. " You know best what profit that 
 represents. That's my last word." 
 
 " My last word to that, sir, is good heven- 
 in'," 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 shill- 
 ings, supposing the dealer refused to trust him 
 for the balance, and the time was growing dan- 
 gerously 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 sover- 
 eign 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, in- 
 deed. 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
 
 338 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 know better, Never mind," he said, as he recol- 
 lected 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. " Dila- 
 tory 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 Fak- 
 rash, shaking out his flowing draperies. " How 
 should / have the seal? This is but a fresh de- 
 vice 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
 
 LETTING HIM GO 339 
 
 bung, which will do just as well. And I've 
 lots of sealing-wax." 
 
 " I will have no seal but the seal of Suley- 
 man! " declared the Jinnee. " For with no 
 other will there be security. Yerily I believe 
 that that accursed sage 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 extreme- 
 ly 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 before," said 
 Fakrash, and as he spoke his outer robes mod- 
 ernized 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 re- 
 lieved, 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
 
 340 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 do try to carry away with you into your seclu- 
 sion a better opinion of human nature." 
 
 " Perdition to all the people of this age ! " 
 cried Fakrash, reassuming 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 thy- 
 self."
 
 LETTING HIM GO 341 
 
 "But how about my client?" said Horace. 
 " I can't afford to lose him, you know." 
 
 " He will return unto thee," said the Jin- 
 nee, trembling with impatience. " Now per- 
 form 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 credu- 
 lous and so suspicious, so benevolent and so ma- 
 lignant. 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 in- 
 termeddle and plague him for the future. 
 
 And yet, in the very moment of victory, 
 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
 
 342 THE BHASS BOTTLE 
 
 to press untold millions and honours and dig- 
 nities of all kinds upon him in return for a 
 service which most mortals would have consid- 
 ered 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 igno- 
 rance of modern life to cajole him into return- 
 ing 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 
 learned 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 en- 
 joyment 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 a blundering old bee 
 vainly endeavouring to hit the opening into his 
 hive. 
 
 " Mr. Fakrash! " he cried. " Before you go 
 any further, listen to me. There's no real neces-
 
 LETTING HIM GO 343 
 
 sity, 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 fea- 
 tures were only dimly recognisable through the 
 wreaths of black vapour in which he was in- 
 volved, answered him from his pillar of smoke 
 in a terrible voice : " Wouldst thou still per- 
 suade 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 with- 
 out telling you " 
 
 The whirling and roaring column, in shape 
 like an inverted cone, was being fast drawn 
 down into the vessel, till only a semi-material- 
 ized 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 de- 
 layest another instant, I will put no more faith 
 in thee ! And I will come forth once more, and 
 afflict thee and thy friends, aye, 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.
 
 344: THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 Horace hesitated no longer; the Jinnee him- 
 self had absolved him from all further scruples. 
 To imperil Sylvia and her parents not to men- 
 tion all London out of consideration for one 
 obstinate and obnoxious old demon would clear- 
 ly 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 re- 
 quired. 
 
 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 steam-boat pier, 
 where he spent his remaining pence in purchas- 
 ing 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 
 steam-boats (so we are informed by an eye-wit- 
 ness) met with rather a ludicrous mishap yester- 
 day evening. It appears that he had with him 
 a small portmanteau or large handbag, which he 
 was supporting on the rail of the stern bulwark.
 
 LETTING HIM GO 345 
 
 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 consider- 
 able amusement to passengers in his immediate 
 vicinity) appeared somewhat 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 noth- 
 ing of any great value. However this may be, 
 he has probably learned a lesson which will 
 render him more careful in future."
 
 THE EPILOGUE 
 
 ONE evening last 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 numer- 
 ous sons and daughters, as he greeted Horace 
 in the reception room. " Only ourselves, you 
 see, and 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 emi- 
 nence," he added, with a roll of reflected im- 
 portance in his voice, " quite worth your culti- 
 846
 
 THE EPILOGUE 347 
 
 rating. Sir Lawrence Pountney, his name is. 
 I don't know if you remember him, but he dis- 
 charged the onerous duties of Lord Mayor of 
 London the year before last, and acquitted him- 
 self 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 man- 
 ner was graciousness itself. " Delighted, my 
 dear Mr. Yentimore," he said, pressing Hor- 
 ace's hand almost as warmly as he had done 
 that October day on 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 
 23
 
 348 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 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, 
 t No, I like to choose for myself; to ah exer- 
 cise 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 sumptu-
 
 THE EPILOGUE 349 
 
 ously decorated with panels of gray-green bro- 
 cade 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 decora- 
 tion 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 Ori- 
 ental interior for himself. Nothing more com- 
 fortable and luxurious for a bachelor's pur- 
 poses." 
 
 " I'm sure," said his wife, " Horace man- 
 aged to make himself quite comfortable enough 
 as it was. He has the most delightful rooms in 
 Vincent Square! " Yentimore heard her re- 
 mark 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."
 
 350 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 " With such a beautiful and charming com- 
 panion 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. Venti- 
 more ? " 
 
 " 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? What a short memory you must 
 have!" 
 
 There was only tender mockery in her 
 eyes; absolutely no recollection of the sinister
 
 THE EPILOGUE 351 
 
 purchase lie had made at that sale, or how 
 nearly it had separated them forever. 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 hospi- 
 tality, and it would have afforded me real pleas- 
 ure if your first visit to the Guildhall could have 
 been paid under my hum 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 receiv- 
 ing 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
 
 352 THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 thing was put off, and I missed it missed it by 
 the merest 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 7 miss most is having the senti- 
 nels 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
 
 THE EPILOGUE 353 
 
 experience of what a mule can do," he informed 
 Lady Pountney, who seemed still incredulous. 
 " More than most people, indeed, and I can as- 
 sure you, my dear lady, that they readily adapt 
 themselves to almost any environment, and will 
 endure the greatest hardships without show- 
 ing any signs of distress I see by your expres- 
 sion, 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 unfa- 
 vourable specimen, that's all," said the pro- 
 fessor. " 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,
 
 354: THE BRASS BOTTLE 
 
 which, it must be confessed, fell exceedingly 
 flat. 
 
 This last peril past, he grew silent and 
 thoughtful, as he sat there by Sylvia's side, 
 looking out through the glazed gallery out- 
 side on the spring foliage of the Embank- 
 ment, the opaline river and the shot towers 
 and buildings on the opposite bank glowing 
 warm brown against an evening sky of silvery 
 blue. 
 
 ISTot 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 ex- 
 pected to leave some trace upon the least re- 
 tentive 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 his fan- 
 tastic and embarrassing performances were in- 
 deed 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 consign-
 
 THE EPILOGUE 355 
 
 ment to speedy oblivion, though the author will 
 trust as long as possible that Fakrash-el-Aamash 
 may have neglected to provide for this particu- 
 lar 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. 
 
 THE END
 
 DR. BARTON'S BOOKS. 
 
 Pine Knot. 
 
 A Story of Kentucky Life. By WILLIAM E. BARTON. Illus- 
 trated by F. T. Merrill. I2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 The story is full of the atmosphere of the quaint mountain 
 life with its wealth of amusing peculiarities, and it also has a his- 
 torical value, since it pictures conditions attendant upon the anti- 
 slavery movement and the days of the war. The interest of a 
 treasure search runs through the tale, the author having adroitly 
 utilized a mountain legend of a lost mine. "Pine Knot" is a 
 romance "racy of the soil " in a true sense, a story fresh, strong, 
 and absorbing in its interest throughout. 
 
 " Like Mr. Allen's 'Reign of Law,' ' Pine Knot ' is a thoroughly whole- 
 some story written by a man of earnestness and purpose. It is a novel to be 
 read and enjoyed, and then put away to be read later." Buffalo Express. 
 
 "The humanity of the book will touch every reader. The quaint pecul- 
 iarities of the community are introduced with picturesque effect, but eccentrici- 
 ties are only appropriate entertaining accompaniments of a skillfully portrayed 
 development of character and social life. Few modern writers possess such a 
 power of describing an interesting and generally unknown people so apprecia- 
 tively, graphically, and often humorously. The book has a vivid, cumulative 
 interest." Congregationalist. 
 
 A Hero in Homespun. 
 
 A Tale of the Loyal South. By WILLIAM E. BARTON, i znx. 
 Paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00. 
 
 "Vigorous, spirited, truthful, absorbing." New York Critic. 
 
 " A thoroughly interesting, red-blooded, virile story, and at the same time 
 a historical document of the very greatest value." The Bookman. 
 
 "Will be read with keen enjoyment." New York Times. 
 
 "The story is one of intense interest." Boston Herald. 
 
 " Abounds in life and incident. The men and women move and act 
 spontaneously. The primitive customs and usages of the mountaineers have 
 been carefully pictured." Philadelphia Ledger. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
 
 "AN EPIC OF THE WEST/' 
 The Girl at the Halfway House. 
 
 A Romance of the Plains. By E. HOUGH, author of " The 
 Story of the Cowboy." I2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 The author of " The Girl at the Halfway House," Mr. E. 
 Hough, gained general recognition by his remarkable book, " The 
 Story of the Cowboy," published by D. Appleton and Com- 
 pany in this country, and also published in England. 
 
 "The Girl at the Halfway House" has been called an 
 American epic by critics who have read the manuscript. The 
 author illustrates the strange life of the great westward movement 
 which became so marked in this country after the civil war. A 
 dramatic picture of a battlefield, which has been compared to 
 scenes in "The Red Badge of Courage," opens the story. After 
 this " Day of War," in which the hero and heroine first meet, 
 there comes "The Day of the Buffalo." The reader follows 
 the course of the hero and his friend, a picturesque old army 
 veteran, to the frontier, then found on the Western plains. The 
 author, than whom no one can speak with fuller knowledge, 
 pictures the cowboy on his native range, the wild life of the buf- 
 falo hunters, the coming of the white-topped emigrant wagons, 
 and the strange days of the early land booms. Into this new 
 world comes the heroine, whose family finally settles near at hand, 
 illustrating the curious phases of the formation of a prairie home. 
 The third part of the story, called "The Day of the Cattle," 
 sketches the wild days when the range cattle covered the plains 
 and the cowboys owned the towns. The fourth part of the story 
 is called " The Day of the Plow," and in this we find that the 
 buffalo has passed from the adopted country of hero and heroine, 
 and the era of towns and land booms has begun. 
 
 Nothing has been written on the opening of the West to 
 excel this romance in epic quality, and its historic interest, as well 
 as its freshness, vividness, and absorbing interest, should appeal 
 to every American reader. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
 
 "A FRESH AND CHARMING NOVEL/' 
 
 The Last Lady of Mulberry. 
 
 A Story of Italian New York. By HENRY WIL- 
 TON THOMAS. Illustrated by Emil Pollak. i2mo. 
 Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 "By far the most complete and satisfying description that 
 has been given of life in the Italian quarter of New York. . . . 
 Incidentally a very good novel, reasonable in its purpose and 
 character drawing, intricate in plot, and dramatic in its action." 
 Philadelphia Times. 
 
 "A breezy book. It * goes ' from start to finish, and the ac- 
 tion moves in a rich atmosphere, albeit that of the poorest of 
 New York's alien colonies. . . . The best study of Italian life 
 in New York, and of its special environment that has ever been 
 drawn." New York Herald. 
 
 "Through a very cleverly contrived course of events the 
 complex life of the colony shines out in most resplendent pro- 
 portions. . . , The story is an exceedingly clever piece of hu- 
 morous wri ting. ' ' Pitts burg Chronicle- Telegraph. 
 
 " The author has evidently made a close study of the Italian 
 quarter and its people and customs, and has utilized his knowl- 
 edge to best advantage." Denver Republican. 
 
 "Character drawing and humor of an excellent quality." -. 
 Rochester Herald. 
 
 " Richly humorous, ' The Last Lady of Mulberry ' is one 
 of the most enjoyable little romances we have recently read. It 
 presents a picture of the Little Italy known in all our larger cities 
 in a way that is more effective than any number of serious dis- 
 sertations." Providence News. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK..
 
 By ELLEN THORNEYCROFT FOWLER, 
 
 Cupid's Garden. I2mo. With new portrait of the 
 Author. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 This volume presents the author of " Isabel Carnaby " and "The 
 Farringdons" in a new light as the mistress of the art of story-telling 
 according to the French rather than the English school. A situation, 
 an incident full of significance beneath the surface, a contrast, become 
 in her hands a theme for a charming little tale which may move the 
 reader to real emotion, or to delight in the writer's humor. The book 
 as a whole represents the author in a lighter vein than " The Farring- 
 dons." It will appeal to all Miss Fowler's host of readers, and increase 
 their admiration of her versatility and fine talent. 
 
 The Farringdons. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 " A most readable story of the fortunes of several interesting people. . . . 
 A plot that threads its way through the story reaches a conclusion the unex- 
 pectedness of which adds to the pleasure that the reader will find in this 
 romance." Providence News. 
 
 " Miss Fowler makes her own audience, which, large as it is in England, 
 must be even larger in this country. There is a deeper note in this story 
 than any she has yet sounded. . . . ' The Farringdons ' is, above all else, 
 a proclamation to the world that the religion which Christ brought to hu- 
 manity is a living power, undiminished in strength, the mainspring of the 
 actions and aspirations of millions of Anglo-Saxons." New York Mail and 
 Express. 
 
 "A book of intense interest." Springfield Union. 
 
 Concerning Isabel Carnaby. New edition, with 
 Portrait and Biographical Sketch of the Author. I2mo. 
 Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 " No one who reads it will regret it or forget it." Chicago Tribune. 
 
 " For brilliant conversations, epigrammatic bits of philosophy, keenness 
 of wit, and full insight into human nature, ' Concerning Isabel Carnaby ' is 
 a remarkable success." Boston Transcript. 
 
 " An excellent novel, clever and witty enough to be very amusing, and 
 serious enough to provide much food for thought." London Daily Tele- 
 graph. 
 
 A Double Thread, izmo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 " The excellence of her writing makes her book delightful reading. She 
 is genial and sympathetic without being futile, and witty without b-ing 
 cynical. 1 ' Literature, London. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
 
 DAVID HARUM ILLUSTRATED. 
 
 David Harum. 
 
 A Story of American Life. By EDWARD NOYES 
 WESTCOTT. Illustrated edition, entirely reset. 
 With some seventy full-page and text pictures by 
 B. West Clinedinst, and other text designs by C. 
 B. Farrand, and a Biography of the Author by 
 Forbes Heermans. I2mo. Gilt top, uncut, $2.00. 
 
 In response to the many inquiries which have shown a general 
 desire for an illustrated edition of " David Harum," the Messrs. 
 Appleton have fortunately been able to arrange with the distin- 
 guished artist, Mr. B. West Clinedinst, N. A., who has been 
 peculiarly interested in the book, and has accepted the commission 
 with an enthusiasm and perfect appreciation which have produced 
 the happiest and most sympathetic results. Mr. Clinedinst' s study 
 of the character and his rendering of types show a comprehension 
 of Mr. Westcott's creations and a quick sense of humor which 
 would have delighted the lamented author. 
 
 Also, Edition de Luxe of the above, printed in tints, 
 with copperplate photogravures, large paper, uncut, 8vo, gio.oo. 
 
 The "Christmas Story" from David 
 Harum. 
 
 Crane Edition. Illustrated with pictures of Wil- 
 liam H. Crane in character, and stage photographs. 
 Cloth, 75 cents. Pocket-book Edition, $1.00. 
 
 No other episode in Mr. Westcott's famous book presents the 
 tenderness and quaintness and full quality of David Harum' s 
 character with the richness and pathos of the story which tells 
 how he paid the "int'rist" upon the "cap'tal" invested by 
 Billy P. Fortunately, this story lends itself readily to separate 
 publication, and it forms an American "Christmas Carol" 
 which stands by itself. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
 
 FELIX GRAS'S ROMANCES, 
 
 The White Terror. 
 
 A Romance. Translated from the Provencal by Mrs. 
 Catharine A. Janvier. Uniform with " The Reds of the 
 Midi " and " The Terror." i6mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 " No one has done this kind of work with finer poetic grasp or more 
 convincing truthfulness than Felix Gras. . . . This new volume has the 
 spontaneity, the vividness, the intensity of Interest of a great historical 
 romance." Philadelphia Times. 
 
 The Terror. 
 
 A Romance of the French Revolution. Uniform with 
 "The Reds of the Midi." Translated by Mrs. Catharine 
 A. Janvier. i6mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 " If Felix Gras had never done any other work than this novel, it would 
 at once give him a place in the front rank of the writers of to-day. . . . ' The 
 Terror ' is a story that deserves to be widely read, for, while it is of thrilling 
 interest, holding the reader's attention closely, there is about it a literary 
 quality that makes it worthy of something more than a careless perusal." 
 Brooklyn Eagle. 
 
 The Reds of the Midi. 
 
 An episode of the French Revolution. Translated from 
 the Provencal by Mrs. Catharine A. Janvier. With an 
 Introduction by Thomas A. Janvier. With Frontispiece. 
 i6mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 " I have read with great and sustained interest ' The Reds of the 
 South,' which you were good enough to present to me. Though a work of 
 fiction, it aims at painting the historical features, and such works if faith- 
 fully executed throw more light than many so-called histories on the true 
 roots and causes of the Revolution, which are so widely and so gravely mis- 
 understood. As a novel it seems to me to be written with great skill." 
 William E. Gladstone. 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, NEW YORK.
 
 "NE BOO