by F. Anstey
CHAPTER IV
AT LARGE
"So _you_ were inside that bottle, were you?" said Horace, blandly. "Howsingular!" He began to realise that he had to deal with an Orientallunatic, and must humour him to some extent. Fortunately he did not seemat all dangerous, though undeniably eccentric-looking. His hair fell indisorderly profusion from under his high turban about his cheeks, whichwere of a uniform pale rhubarb tint; his grey beard streamed out inthree thin strands, and his long, narrow eyes, opal in hue, and setrather wide apart and at a slight angle, had a curious expression, partslyness and part childlike simplicity.
"Dost thou doubt that I speak truth? I tell thee that I have beenconfined in that accursed vessel for countless centuries--how long, Iknow not, for it is beyond calculation."
"I should hardly have thought from your appearance, sir, that you hadbeen so many years in bottle as all that," said Horace, politely, "butit's certainly time you had a change. May I, if it isn't indiscreet, askhow you came into such a very uncomfortable position? But probably youhave forgotten by this time."
"Forgotten!" said the other, with a sombre red glow in his opal eyes."Wisely was it written: 'Let him that desireth oblivion conferbenefits--but the memory of an injury endureth for ever.' _I_ forgetneither benefits nor injuries."
"An old gentleman with a grievance," thought Ventimore. "And mad intothe bargain. Nice person to have staying in the same house with one!"
"Know, O best of mankind," continued the stranger, "that he who nowaddresses thee is Fakrash-el-Aamash, one of the Green Jinn. And I dweltin the Palace of the Mountain of the Clouds above the City of Babel inthe Garden of Irem, which thou doubtless knowest by repute?"
"I fancy I _have_ heard of it," said Horace, as if it were an address inthe Court Directory. "Delightful neighbourhood."
"I had a kinswoman, Bedeea-el-Jemal, who possessed incomparable beautyand manifold accomplishments. And seeing that, though a Jinneeyeh, shewas of the believing Jinn, I despatched messengers to Suleyman theGreat, the son of Daood, offering him her hand in marriage. But acertain Jarjarees, the son of Rejmoos, the son of Iblees--may he be forever accursed!--looked with favour upon the maiden, and, going secretlyunto Suleyman, persuaded him that I was preparing a crafty snare for theKing's undoing."
"And, of course, _you_ never thought of such a thing?" said Ventimore.
"By a venomous tongue the fairest motives may be rendered foul," was thesomewhat evasive reply. "Thus it came to pass that Suleyman--on whom bepeace!--listened unto the voice of Jarjarees and refused to receive themaiden. Moreover, he commanded that I should be seized and imprisoned ina bottle of brass and cast into the Sea of El-Karkar, there to abide theDay of Doom."
"Too bad--really too bad!" murmured Horace, in a tone that he could onlyhope was sufficiently sympathetic.
"But now, by thy means, O thou of noble ancestors and gentledisposition, my deliverance hath been accomplished; and if I were toserve thee for a thousand years, regarding nothing else, even thus couldI not requite thee, and my so doing would be a small thing according tothy desserts!"
"Pray don't mention it," said Horace; "only too pleased if I've been ofany use to you."
"In the sky it is written upon the pages of the air: 'He who doth kindactions shall experience the like.' Am I not an Efreet of the Jinn?Demand, therefore, and thou shalt receive."
"Poor old chap!" thought Horace, "he's very cracked indeed. He'll bewanting to give me a present of some sort soon--and of course I can'thave that.... My dear Mr. Fakrash," he said aloud, "I've donenothing--nothing at all--and if I had, I couldn't possibly accept anyreward for it."
"What are thy names, and what calling dost thou follow?"
"I ought to have introduced myself before--let me give you my card;" andVentimore gave him one, which the other took and placed in his girdle."That's my business address. I'm an architect, if you know what thatis--a man who builds houses and churches--mosques, you know--in fact,anything, when he can get it to build."
"A useful calling indeed--and one to be rewarded with fine gold."
"In my case," Horace confessed, "the reward has been too fine to beperceived. In other words, I've never _been_ rewarded, because I'venever yet had the luck to get a client."
"And what is this client of whom thou speakest?"
"Oh, well, some well-to-do merchant who wants a house built for him anddoesn't care how much he spends on it. There must be lots of themabout--but they never seem to come in _my_ direction."
"Grant me a period of delay, and, if it be possible, I will procure theesuch a client."
Horace could not help thinking that any recommendation from such aquarter would hardly carry much weight; but, as the poor old manevidently imagined himself under an obligation, which he was anxious todischarge, it would have been unkind to throw cold water on his goodintentions.
"My dear sir," he said lightly, "if you _should_ come across thatparticular type of client, and can contrive to impress him with thebelief that I'm just the architect he's looking out for--which, betweenourselves, I am, though nobody's discovered it yet--if you can get himto come to me, you will do me the very greatest service I could everhope for. But don't give yourself any trouble over it."
"It will be one of the easiest things that can be," said his visitor,"that is" (and here a shade of rather pathetic doubt crossed his face)"provided that anything of my former power yet remains unto me."
"Well, never mind, sir," said Horace; "if you can't, I shall take thewill for the deed."
"First of all, it will be prudent to learn where Suleyman is, that I mayhumble myself before him and make my peace."
"Yes," said Horace, gently, "I would. I should make a point of that,sir. Not _now_, you know. He might be in bed. To-morrow morning."
"This is a strange place that I am in, and I know not yet in whatdirection I should seek him. But till I have found him, and justifiedmyself in his sight, and had my revenge upon Jarjarees, mine enemy, Ishall know no rest."
"Well, but go to bed now, like a sensible old chap," said Horace,soothingly, anxious to prevent this poor demented Asiatic from fallinginto the hands of the police. "Plenty of time to go and call on Suleymanto-morrow."
"I will search for him, even unto the uttermost ends of the earth!"
"That's right--you're sure to find him in one of them. Only, don't yousee, it's no use starting to-night--the last trains have gone long ago."As he spoke, the night wind bore across the square the sound of Big Benstriking the quarters in Westminster Clock Tower, and then, after apause, the solemn boom that announced the first of the small hours."To-morrow," thought Ventimore, "I'll speak to Mrs. Rapkin, and get herto send for a doctor and have him put under proper care--the poor oldboy really isn't fit to go about alone!"
"I will start now--at once," insisted the stranger "for there is no timeto be lost."
"Oh, come!" said Horace, "after so many thousand years, a few hours moreor less won't make any serious difference. And you _can't_ go outnow--they've shut up the house. Do let me take you upstairs to yourroom, sir."
"Not so, for I must leave thee for a season, O young man of kindconduct. But may thy days be fortunate, and the gate never cease to berepaired, and the nose of him that envieth thee be rubbed in the dust,for love for thee hath entered into my heart, and if it be permittedunto me, I will cover thee with the veils of my protection!"
As he finished this harangue the speaker seemed, to Ventimore'sspeechless amazement, to slip through the wall behind him. At allevents, he had left the room somehow--and Horace found himself alone.
He rubbed the back of his head, which began to be painful. "He can'treally have vanished through the wall," he said to himself. "That's tooabsurd. The fact is, I'm over-excited this evening--and no wonder, afterall that's happened. The best thing I can do is to go to bed at once."
Which he accordingly proceeded to do.
