hat his legs
dangled in space, and Fakrash took a seat by his side. "O, most
indiscreet of mankind!" he began, in an aggrieved tone; "thou hast been
near the committal of a great blunder, and doing ill to thyself and to
me!"

"Well, I _do_ like that!" retorted Horace; "when you let me in for all
that freedom of the City business, and then sneaked off, leaving me to
get out of it the best way I could, and only came back just as I was
about to explain matters, and carried me up through the roof like a sack
of flour. Do you consider that tactful on your part?"

"Thou hadst drunk wine and permitted it to creep as far as the place of
secrets."

"Only one glass," said Horace; "and I wanted it, I can assure you. I was
obliged to make a speech to them, and, thanks to you, I was in such a
hole that I saw nothing for it but to tell the truth."

"Veracity, as thou wilt learn," answered the Jinnee, "is not invariably
the Ship of Safety. Thou wert about to betray the benefactor who
procured for thee such glory and honour as might well cause the
gall-bladder of lions to burst with envy!"

"If any lion with the least sense of humour could have witnessed the
proceedings," said Ventimore, "he might have burst with
laughter--certainly not envy. Good Lord! Fakrash," he cried, in his
indignation, "I've never felt such an absolute ass in my whole life! If
nothing would satisfy you but my receiving the freedom of the City, you
might at least have contrived some decent excuse for it! But you left
out the only point there was in the whole thing--and all for what?"

"What doth it signify why the whole populace should come forth to
acclaim thee and do thee honour, so long as they did so?" said Fakrash,
sullenly. "For the report of thy fame would reach Bedeea-el-Jemal."

"That's just where you're mistaken," said Horace. "If you had not been
in too desperate a hurry to make a few inquiries, you would have found
out that you were taking all this trouble for nothing."

"How sayest thou?"

"Well, you would have discovered that the Princess is spared all
temptation to marry beneath her by the fact that she became the bride of
somebody else about thirty centuries ago. She married a mortal, one
Seyf-el-Mulook, a King's son, and they've both been dead a considerable
time--another obstacle to your plans."

"It is a lie," declared Fakrash.

"If you will take me back to Vincent Square, I shall be happy to show
you the evidence in your national