by F. Anstey
CHAPTER X
NO PLACE LIKE HOME!
"May thy head long survive!" said Fakrash, by way of salutation, as hestepped through the archway.
"You're very good," said Horace, whose anger had almost evaporated inthe relief of the Jinnee's unexpected return, "but I don't think anyhead can survive this sort of thing long."
"Art thou content with this dwelling I have provided for thee?" inquiredthe Jinnee, glancing around the stately hall with perceptiblecomplacency.
It would have been positively brutal to say how very far from contentedhe felt, so Horace could only mumble that he had never been lodged likethat before in all his life.
"It is far below thy deserts," Fakrash observed graciously. "And werethy friends amazed at the manner of their entertainment?"
"They were," said Horace.
"A sure method of preserving friends is to feast them with liberality,"remarked the Jinnee.
This was rather more than Horace's temper could stand. "You were kindenough to provide my friends with such a feast," he said, "that they'llnever come _here_ again."
"How so? Were not the meats choice and abounding in fatness? Was not thewine sweet, and the sherbet like unto perfumed snow?"
"Oh, everything was--er--as nice as possible," said Horace. "Couldn'thave been better."
"Yet thou sayest that thy friends will return no more--for what reason?"
"Well, you see," explained Horace, reluctantly, "there's such a thingas doing people _too_ well. I mean, it isn't everybody that appreciatesArabian cooking. But they might have stood that. It was the dancing-girlthat did for me."
"I commanded that a houri, lovelier than the full moon, and graceful asa young gazelle, should appear for the delight of thy guests."
"She came," said Horace, gloomily.
"Acquaint me with that which hath occurred--for I perceive plainly thatsomething hath fallen out contrary to thy desires."
"Well," said Horace, "if it had been a bachelor party, there would havebeen no harm in the houri; but, as it happened, two of my guests wereladies, and they--well, they not unnaturally put a wrong construction onit all."
"Verily," exclaimed the Jinnee, "thy words are totally incomprehensibleto me."
"I don't know what the custom may be in Arabia," said Horace, "but withus it is not usual for a man to engage a houri to dance after dinner toamuse the lady he is proposing to marry. It's the kind of attentionshe'd be most unlikely to appreciate.
"Then was one of thy guests the damsel whom thou art seeking to marry?"
"She was," said Horace, "and the other two were her father and mother.From which you may imagine that it was not altogether agreeable for mewhen your gazelle threw herself at my feet and hugged my knees anddeclared that I was the light of her eyes. Of course, it all meantnothing--it's probably the conventional behaviour for a gazelle, and I'mnot reflecting upon her in the least. But, in the circumstances, it_was_ compromising."
"I thought," said Fakrash, "that thou assuredst me that thou wast notcontracted to any damsel?"
"I think I only said that there was no one whom I would trouble you toprocure as a wife for me," replied Horace; "I certainly wasengaged--though, after this evening, my engagement is at an end--unless... that reminds me, do you happen to know whether there really _was_ aninscription on the seal of your bottle, and what it said?"
"I know naught of any inscription," said the Jinnee; "bring me the sealthat I may see it."
"I haven't got it by me at this moment," said Horace; "I lent it to myfriend--the father of this young lady I told you of. You see, Mr.Fakrash, you got me into--I mean, I was in such a hole over this affairthat I was obliged to make a clean breast of it to him. And he wouldn'tbelieve it, so it struck me that there might be an inscription of somesort on the seal, saying who you were, and why Solomon had you confinedin the bottle. Then the Professor would be obliged to admit that there'ssomething in my story."
"Truly, I wonder at thee and at the smallness of thy penetration," theJinnee commented; "for if there were indeed any writing upon this seal,it is not possible that one of thy race should be able to decipher it."
"Oh, I beg your pardon," said Horace; "Professor Futvoye is an Orientalscholar; he can make out any inscription, no matter how many thousandsof years old it may be. If anything's there, he'll decipher it. Thequestion is whether anything _is_ there."
The effect of this speech on Fakrash was as unexpected as it wasinexplicable: the Jinnee's features, usually so mild, began to workconvulsively until they became terrible to look at, and suddenly, with afierce howl, he shot up to nearly double his ordinary stature.
"O thou of little sense and breeding!" he cried, in a loud voice; "howcamest thou to deliver the bottle in which I was confined into the handsof this learned man?"
Ventimore, startled as he was, did not lose his self-possession. "Mydear sir," he said, "I did not suppose you could have any further usefor it. And, as a matter of fact, I didn't give Professor Futvoye thebottle--which is over there in the corner--but merely the stopper. Iwish you wouldn't tower over me like that--it gives me a crick in theneck to talk to you. Why on earth should you make such a fuss about mylending the seal; what possible difference can it make to you even if itdoes confirm my story? And it's of immense importance to _me_ that theProfessor should believe I told the truth."
"I spoke in haste," said the Jinnee, slowly resuming his normal size,and looking slightly ashamed of his recent outburst as well asuncommonly foolish. "The bottle truly is of no value; and as for thestopper, since it is but lent, it is no great matter. If there be anylegend upon the seal, perchance this learned man of whom thou speakestwill by this time have deciphered it?"
"No," said Horace, "he won't tackle it till to-morrow. And it's aslikely as not that when he does he won't find any reference to_you_--and I shall be up a taller tree than ever!"
"Art thou so desirous that he should receive proof that thy story istrue?"
"Why, of course I am! Haven't I been saying so all this time?"
"Who can satisfy him so surely as I?"
"You!" cried Horace. "Do you mean to say you really would? Mr. Fakrash,you _are_ an old brick! That would be the very thing!"
"There is naught," said the Jinnee, smiling indulgently, "that I wouldnot do to promote thy welfare, for thou hast rendered me inestimableservice. Acquaint me therefore with the abode of this sage, and I willpresent myself before him, and if haply he should find no inscriptionupon the seal, or its purport should be hidden from him, then will Iconvince him that thou hast spoken the truth and no lie."
Horace very willingly gave him the Professor's address. "Only don'tdrop in on him to-night, you know," he thought it prudent to add, "oryou might startle him. Call any time after breakfast to-morrow, andyou'll find him in."
"To-night," said Fakrash, "I return to pursue my search after Suleyman(on whom be peace!). For not yet have I found him."
"If you _will_ try to do so many things at once," said Horace, "I don'tsee how you can expect much result."
"At Nineveh they knew him not--for where I left a city I found but aheap of ruins, tenanted by owls and bats."
"_They say the lion and the lizard keep the Courts_----" murmuredHorace, half to himself. "I was afraid you might be disappointed withNineveh myself. Why not run over to Sheba? You might hear of him there."
"Seba of El-Yemen--the country of Bilkees, the Queen beloved ofSuleyman," said the Jinnee. "It is an excellent suggestion, and I willfollow it without delay."
"But you won't forget to look in on Professor Futvoye to-morrow, willyou?"
"Assuredly I will not. And now, ere I depart, tell me if there be anyother service I may render thee."
Horace hesitated. "There _is_ just one," he said, "only I'm afraidyou'll be offended if I mention it."
"On the head and the eye be thy commands!" said the Jinnee; "forwhatsoever thou desirest shall be accomplished, provided that it liewithin my power to perform it."
"Well," sa
id Horace, "if you're sure you don't mind, I'll tell you.You've transformed this house into a wonderful place, more like theAlhambra--I don't mean the one in Leicester Square--than a Londonlodging-house. But then I am only a lodger here, and the people thehouse belongs to--excellent people in their way--would very much ratherhave the house as it was. They have a sort of idea that they won't beable to let these rooms as easily as the others."
"Base and sordid dogs!" said the Jinnee, with contempt.
"Possibly," said Horace, "it's narrow-minded of them--but that's the waythey look at it. They've actually left rather than stay here. And it's_their_ house--not mine."
"If they abandon this dwelling, thou wilt remain in the more securepossession."
"Oh, _shall_ I, though? They'll go to law and have me turned out, and Ishall have to pay ruinous damages into the bargain. So, you see, whatyou intended as a kindness will only bring me bad luck."
"Come--without more words--to the statement of thy request," saidFakrash, "for I am in haste."
"All I want you to do," replied Horace, in some anxiety as to what theeffect of his request would be, "is to put everything here back to whatit was before. It won't take you a minute."
"Of a truth," exclaimed Fakrash, "to bestow a favour upon thee is but athankless undertaking, for not once, but twice, hast thou rejected mybenefits--and now, behold, I am at a loss to devise means to gratifythee!"
"I know I've abused your good nature," said Horace; "but if you'll onlydo this, and then convince the Professor that my story is true, I shallbe more than satisfied. I'll never ask another favour of you!"
"My benevolence towards thee hath no bounds--as thou shalt see; and Ican deny thee nothing, for truly thou art a worthy and temperate youngman. Farewell, then, and be it according to thy desire."
He raised his arms above his head, and shot up like a rocket towards thelofty dome, which split asunder to let him pass. Horace, as he gazedafter him, had a momentary glimpse of deep blue sky, with a star or twothat seemed to be hurrying through the transparent opal scud, beforethe roof closed in once more.
Then came a low, rumbling sound, with a shock like a mild earthquake:the slender pillars swayed under their horseshoe arches; the bighanging-lanterns went out; the walls narrowed, and the floor heaved androse--till Ventimore found himself up in his own familiar sitting-roomonce more, in the dark. Outside he could see the great square stillshrouded in grey haze--the street lamps flickering in the wind; abelated reveller was beguiling his homeward way by rattling his stickagainst the railings as he passed.
Inside the room everything was exactly as before, and Horace found itdifficult to believe that a few minutes earlier he had been standing onthat same site, but twenty feet or so below his present level, in aspacious blue-tiled hall, with a domed ceiling and gaudy pillaredarches.
But he was very far from regretting his short-lived splendour; he burntwith shame and resentment whenever he thought of that nightmare banquet,which was so unlike the quiet, unpretentious little dinner he had lookedforward to.
However, it was over now, and it was useless to worry himself about whatcould not be helped. Besides, fortunately, there was no great harm done;the Jinnee had been brought to see his mistake, and, to do him justice,had shown himself willing enough to put it right. He had promised to goand see the Professor next day, and the result of the interview couldnot fail to be satisfactory. And after this, Ventimore thought, Fakrashwould have the sense and good feeling not to interfere in his affairsagain.
Meanwhile he could sleep now with a mind free from his worst anxieties,and he went to his room in a spirit of intense thankfulness that he hada Christian bed to sleep in. He took off his gorgeous robes--the onlythings that remained to prove to him that the events of that evening hadbeen no delusion--and locked them in his wardrobe with a sense ofrelief that he would never be required to wear them again, and his lastconscious thought before he fell asleep was the comforting reflectionthat, if there were any barrier between Sylvia and himself, it would beremoved in the course of a very few more hours.