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And, in his perplexity, he turned for support and guidance to his self-constituted mentor only to discover that the Jinnee, whose short-sightedness and ignorance had planted him in this present false position, had mysteriously and perfidiously disappeared, and left him to grapple with the situation single-handed.
I unfastened the chain from my neck. A half-coin swung from it as a pendant. "Place this in his hand. It is a sign. It has power to lay the evil spirit which troubles this house," I told him gravely. He seized upon it with an eager hand. "In the name of God!" said The Jinnee, and fairly flew out of the room.
And, as it proved, he acted judiciously, for the Jinnee flew to Vincent Square with honourable precision, and dropped him neatly into the armchair in which he had little hoped ever to find himself again. "I have brought thee hither," said Fakrash, "and yet I am persuaded that thou art even now devising treachery against me, and wilt betray me if thou canst."
"I particularly like The Jinnee. I should like to have him around me. And Daoud is highly ornamental." "When is The Author coming back? Or is he coming back?" he asked abruptly. "Oh, yes. He will be here for the wedding. So will Miss Emmeline." After a long pause, and with an evident effort: "I have been thinking," he said, "that perhaps it was unfortunate I came between you and The Author.
A rattle of pebbles down the side of the wady, and a grunting call, told them Rrisa had returned. Dimly they saw him dragging the old Sheik over the lip of the gully, down into its half-protection. He brought the unconscious man to them, and though bowed by the frenzy of the storm managed a salute. "Here, Master, I have saved him from the jinnee of the desert," Rrisa pantingly announced.
Jelnik, now, this minute! I have news for him," I said hastily. The Jinnee looked doubtful. Plainly, he didn't want his master disturbed, even by me. "I have never seen him like this before," he told me. "Listen!" Came the cries of the violin, heart-rending cries of regret and despair, followed by furious protests; then a nobler grief, and love, and longing. "After a while it will pray for him.
"I had a notion it was a manuscript," said Horace "till he came out. But he isn't a great wicked thing, Sylvia. He's an amiable old Jinnee enough. And he'd do anything for me. Nobody could be more grateful and generous than he has been." "Do you call it generous to change the poor, dear dad into a mule?" inquired Sylvia, with a little curl of her upper lip.
He felt sure that Fakrash would hesitate at no means, however violent, of burying all traces of his blunder in oblivion, and very little hope that, whatever he did, it would prove anything but some worse indiscretion than his previous performances. Happily none of these extreme measures seemed to have occurred to the Jinnee, though what followed was strange and striking enough.
At any moment you might touch a convenient bell, and a waiter would appear at your elbow, like a jinnee from a jar, and accept an order with silent deference. You could do this all day, and the jinnee never failed to hear and obey. That was before the war. Now, those idyllic days are gone. So is the waiter. So is the efficacy of the bell.
Why not treat them with the contempt they deserve?" "They are not all lies," the Jinnee admitted reluctantly. "Well, never mind. Whatever you've done, you've expiated it by this time." "Now that Suleyman is no more, it is my desire to seek out my kinsmen of the Green Jinn, and live out my days in amity and honour. How can that be if they hear my name execrated by all mortals?"
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