al 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 Suleyman."

"What on earth have you got into your head now? You can't mean the Lord
Mayor?"

"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 Fakrash, 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
sluggish waters; others again, imprisoned in lofty pillars, from which
the smoke of their breath ascendeth even unto Heaven? Doth not the air
throb 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 interest to undeceive
him--indeed, it's quite the contrary!"

"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 that I had slain thee on that
account."

"Your proper course," said Horace, "would be to hand me ov