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Updated: June 3, 2025
"Not in my particular case. I I quite feel your goodness and generosity; but, indeed, as I told you before, it's really impossible for me to accept any such reward." Fakrash's brows contracted slightly. "How sayest thou that it is impossible seeing that these things are already in thy possession?" "I know," said Horace; "but you won't be offended if I speak quite plainly?"
The Jinnee removed his hat with both hands, and stood silent and impassive. "Let me present you to Miss Sylvia Futvoye," Ventimore continued, "the lady whose name you have already heard." There was a momentary gleam in Fakrash's odd, slanting eyes as they lighted on Sylvia's shrinking figure, but he made no acknowledgment of the introduction.
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.
"There ought to be a lid or stopper of some sort," he said suddenly. "What have you done with that?" "No, sir, there you're mistook, you are, indeed. I do assure you you never see a pot of this partickler pattern with a lid to it. Never!" "Oh, don't you, though?" said Horace. "I know better. Never mind," he said, as he recollected that the seal was in Fakrash's possession. "I'll take it as it is.
Of course, he knew that it was the Jinnee who was abducting him in this sensational manner, and he was rather relieved than alarmed by Fakrash's summary proceeding, for he seemed, for once, to have hit upon the best way out of a situation that was rapidly becoming impossible.
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