don't see her within twenty-four hours,
I am to be at liberty to infer that the negotiations are off, and I may
marry anybody else I please, without any opposition from you? Is that
understood?"

"It is agreed," said Fakrash, "for I am confident that Bedeea will
accept thee joyfully."

"We shall see," said Horace. "But it might be as well if you went and
prepared her a little. I suppose you know where to find her--and you've
only twenty-four hours, you know."

"More than is needed," answered the Jinnee, with such childlike
confidence, that Horace felt almost ashamed of so easy a victory. "But
the sun is already high. Arise, my son, put on these robes"--and with
this he flung on the bed the magnificent raiment which Ventimore had
last worn on the night of his disastrous entertainment--"and when thou
hast broken thy fast, prepare to accompany me."

"Before I agree to that," said Horace, sitting up in bed, "I should like
to know where you're taking me to."

"Obey me without demur," said Fakrash, "or thou knowest the
consequences."

It seemed to Horace that it was as well to humour him, and he got up
accordingly, washed and shaved, and, putting on his dazzling robe of
cloth-of-gold thickly sewn with gems, he joined Fakrash--who, by the
way, was similarly, if less gorgeously, arrayed--in the sitting-room, in
a state of some mystification.

"Eat quickly," commanded the Jinnee, "for the time is short." And
Horace, after hastily disposing of a cold poached egg and a cup of
coffee, happened to go to the windows.

"Good Heavens!" he cried. "What does all this mean?"

He might well ask. On the opposite side of the road, by the railings of
the square, a large crowd had collected, all staring at the house in
eager expectation. As they caught sight of him they raised a cheer,
which caused him to retreat in confusion, but not before he had seen a
great golden chariot with six magnificent coal-black horses, and a suite
of swarthy attendants in barbaric liveries, standing by the pavement
below. "Whose carriage is that?" he asked.

"It belongs to thee," said the Jinnee; "descend then, and make thy
progress in it through the City."

"I will not," said Horace. "Even to oblige you I simply can't drive
along the streets in a thing like the band-chariot of a travelling
circus."

"It is necessary," declared Fakrash. "Must I again recall to thee the
penalty of disobedience?"

"Oh, very well," said Horace, irritably. "If you in