try to deceive me or yourself, Horace," she said; "if we part
now, it will be for ever."

He had a dismal conviction that she was right. "We must hope for the
best," he said drearily; "Fakrash may have some motive in all this we
don't understand. Or he may relent. But part we must, for the present."

"Very well," she said. "If he restores dad, I will give you up. But not
unless."

"Hath the damsel decided?" asked the Jinnee, suddenly re-appearing; "for
the period of deliberation is past."

"Miss Futvoye and I," Horace answered for her, "are willing to consider
our engagement at an end, until you approve of its renewal, on condition
that you restore her father at once."

"Agreed!" said Fakrash. "Conduct me to him, and we will arrange the
matter without delay."

Outside they met Mrs. Futvoye on her way from the study. "You here,
Horace?" she exclaimed. "And who is this--gentleman?"

"This," said Horace, "is the--er--author of the Professor's misfortunes,
and he had come here at my request to undo his work."

"It _would_ be so kind of him!" exclaimed the distressed lady, who was
by this time far beyond either surprise or resentment. "I'm sure, if he
knew all we have gone through----!" and she led the way to her husband's
room.

As soon as the door was opened the Professor seemed to recognise his
tormentor in spite of his changed raiment, and was so powerfully
agitated that he actually reeled on his four legs, and "stood over" in
a lamentable fashion.

"O man of distinguished attainments!" began the Jinnee, "whom I have
caused, for reasons that are known unto thee, to assume the shape of a
mule, speak, I adjure thee, and tell me where thou hast deposited the
inscribed seal which is in thy possession."

The Professor spoke; and the effect of articulate speech proceeding from
the mouth of what was to all outward seeming an ordinary mule was
strange beyond description. "I'll see you damned first," he said
sullenly. "You can't do worse to me than you've done already!"

"As thou wilt," said Fakrash; "but unless I regain it, I will not
restore thee to what thou wast."

"Well, then," said the mule, savagely, "you'll find it in the top
right-hand drawer of my writing-table: the key is in that diorite bowl
on the mantelpiece."

The Jinnee unlocked the drawer, and took out the metal cap, which he
placed in the breast pocket of his incongruous frock-coat. "So far,
well," he said; "next thou must deliver up to me the