Godwin the gorilla sighed. He had never uttered a more fervent and
thankful sound in all his life. "Mihrjan," he said, "I must say, yes,
by gad, I will say, I'm glad to see you."
Mihrjan cast a look about him. "Thy sentiments are understated, Lord.
It is a trait of thy race."
"Yes, well, never mind that. Look here, can you get rid of these damned
slimy things? My arm's weary with swatting 'em."
The djinni gestured; a wind arose and swept along the poop, and the
rats were tumbled down onto the main deck, where they commenced to
brawl among themselves again, on the edge of the fire.
"And see here, while I think of it, there's a black fellow swimming out
there somewhere. Can you see if he's still at it, or has he sunk?"
Mihrjan vanished and returned before the air could rush into the
vacuum his passing had created. "He swims, Master, but weakly."
"Well, he's a good chap, albeit misguided into serving under that lousy
Mufaddal beggar. He's one of the best swordsmen I ever faced. Can you
transport him home to Nubia?"
Mihrjan grinned. "It is done."
"Good. I felt rotten about him. Poor devil jumped overboard because I
spoke to him. Which brings up this: can you make me myself again? That
is to say, take this ape's body back where Heraj got it, and give me my
own?"
Mihrjan scowled. His mind seemed to be wandering among far countries.
At last he said, brightening, "I see how 'twas done. I can undo it."
"Then by all means--" Godwin found that the paw with which he was
gesticulating had become a strong brown hand, a bit grubby, perhaps,
but still his own natural hand. He stared down. His robe and armor were
in tatters. They had evidently seen some life and hard times in the
jungle. The body appeared to be whole, however, and tingled pleasantly
as Godwin's personality took it over once more.
Mihrjan said, "Suitable raiment is in order," and Godwin was wearing
white samite and sky-blue silk over gold-washed armor of meshed steel.
His broadsword hung in a new scabbard, bedecked with gauze, and his
beard and hair were freshly cut and combed. His skin felt clean, and
seemed to have been bathed within the hour.
"What a talent you have there, Mihrjan, old fellow," he said
admiringly. "May heaven beshrew me if I ever part with you again."
"'Tis wise to allow me to stay within call." The djinni frowned. "And
my mistress, O King? She is safe?"
"I hope so, but I left her quite a while back. Had to sink this ship,
you know. It was going to England with a cargo of plague. Oh, you know
that, you were there when we found Sir Malcolm. We'd better get back
to Mufaddal's palace at once, Mihrjan. Just one more request: will you
sink this pest ship for me?"
"It already sinks of its own accord, My Lord." And indeed, the deck was
slanting beneath their feet. Down at the bow the rats were huddled,
quarreling and fighting among themselves and making their revolting
chorus rise up to foul the heavens.
"Good. Then let's go."
Mihrjan placed a hand under his elbow, and suddenly they were five
hundred feet above the Mediterranean, looking down at the ship which
Mufaddal had fondly hoped would be the death of the British nation.
Even up here Godwin fancied he could hear the final squeals and
horrible wailing shrieks of the cargo of great gray rats. Then Mihrjan
headed landward, and the plague ship disappeared behind.