I will
bestow no more upon thee," said the Jinnee, sullenly. "Nay, in token of
my displeasure, I will deprive thee even of such gifts as thou hast
retained." He pointed his grey forefinger at Ventimore, whose turban
and jewelled robes instantly shrivelled into cobwebs and tinder, and
fluttered to the carpet in filmy shreds, leaving him in nothing but his
underclothing.

"That only shows what a nasty temper you're in," said Horace, blandly,
"and doesn't annoy me in the least. If you'll excuse me, I'll go and put
on some things I can feel more at home in; and perhaps by the time I
return you'll have cooled down."

He slipped on some clothes hurriedly and re-entered the sitting-room.
"Now, Mr. Fakrash," he said, "we'll have this out. You talk of having
loaded me with benefits. You seem to consider I ought to be grateful to
you. In Heaven's name, for what? I've been as forbearing as possible all
this time, because I gave you credit for meaning well. Now, I'll speak
plainly. I told you from the first, and I tell you now, that I want no
riches nor honours from you. The one real good turn you did me was
bringing me that client, and you spoilt that because you would insist on
building the palace yourself, instead of leaving it to me! As for the
rest--here am I, a ruined and discredited man, with a client who
probably supposes I'm in league with the Devil; with the girl I love,
and might have married, believing that I have left her to marry a
Princess; and her father, unable ever to forgive me for having seen him
as a one-eyed mule. In short, I'm in such a mess all round that I don't
care two straws whether I live or die!"

"What is all this to me?" said the Jinnee.

"Only this--that unless you can see your way to putting things straight
for me, I'm hanged if I take the trouble to seal you up in that bottle!"

"How am _I_ to put things straight for thee?" cried Fakrash, peevishly.

"If you could make all those people entirely forget that affair in the
Guildhall, you can make my friends forget the brass bottle and
everything connected with it, can't you?"

"There would be no difficulty in that," Fakrash admitted.

"Well, do it--and I'll swear to seal you up in the bottle exactly as if
you had never been out of it, and pitch you into the deepest part of the
Thames, where no one will ever disturb you."

"First produce the bottle, then," said Fakrash, "for I cannot believe
but that thou hast some lurking guile in thy heart