ch time."

"I don't mind that," said Horace, affably. "I can give you as long as
you like. I'm in no sort of a hurry."

"With me it is otherwise," retorted Fakrash, making a stride towards
him. "Therefore court not life, for thy death hath become unavoidable.'

"Before we part," said Horace, "you won't refuse to answer one or two
questions?"

"Didst thou not undertake never to ask any further favour of me?
Moreover, it will avail thee nought. For I am positively determined to
slay thee."

"I demand it," said Horace, "in the most great name of the Lord Mayor
(on whom be peace!)"

It was a desperate shot--but it took effect. The Jinnee quailed visibly.

"Ask, then," he said; "but briefly, for the time groweth short."

Horace determined to make one last appeal to Fakrash's sense of
gratitude, since it had always seemed the dominant trait in his
character.

"Well," he said, "but for me, wouldn't you be still in that brass
bottle?"

"That," replied the Jinnee, "is the very reason why I purpose to destroy
thee!"

"Oh!" was all Horace could find to say at this most unlooked-for answer.
His sheet anchor, in which he had trusted implicitly, had suddenly
dragged--and he was drifting fast to destruction.

"Are there any other questions which thou wouldst ask?" inquired the
Jinnee, with grim indulgence; "or wilt thou encounter thy doom without
further procrastination?"

Horace was determined not to give in just yet; he had a very bad hand,
but he might as well play the game out and trust to luck to gain a stray
trick.

"I haven't nearly done yet," he said. "And, remember, you've promised to
answer me--in the name of the Lord Mayor!"

"I will answer one other question, and no more," said the Jinnee, in an
inflexible tone; and Ventimore realised that his fate would depend upon
what he said next.

CHAPTER XVIII

A GAME OF BLUFF

"Thy second question, O pertinacious one?" said the Jinnee, impatiently.
He was standing with folded arms looking down on Horace, who was still
seated on the narrow cornice, not daring to glance below again, lest he
should lose his head altogether.

"I'm coming to it," said Ventimore; "I want to know why you should
propose to dash me to pieces in this barbarous way as a return for
letting you out of that bottle. Were you so comfortable in it as all
that?"

"In the bottle I was at least suffered to rest, and none molested me.
But in releasing me thou didst perfidiously conce