AT LARGE
"So _you_ were inside that bottle, were you?" said Horace, blandly. "How
singular!" He began to realise that he had to deal with an Oriental
lunatic, and must humour him to some extent. Fortunately he did not seem
at all dangerous, though undeniably eccentric-looking. His hair fell in
disorderly profusion from under his high turban about his cheeks, which
were of a uniform pale rhubarb tint; his grey beard streamed out in
three thin strands, and his long, narrow eyes, opal in hue, and set
rather wide apart and at a slight angle, had a curious expression, part
slyness and part childlike simplicity.
"Dost thou doubt that I speak truth? I tell thee that I have been
confined in that accursed vessel for countless centuries--how long, I
know not, for it is beyond calculation."
"I should hardly have thought from your appearance, sir, that you had
been so many years in bottle as all that," said Horace, politely, "but
it's certainly time you had a change. May I, if it isn't indiscreet, ask
how you came into such a very uncomfortable position? But probably you
have 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 confer
benefits--but the memory of an injury endureth for ever.' _I_ forget
neither benefits nor injuries."
"An old gentleman with a grievance," thought Ventimore. "And mad into
the bargain. Nice person to have staying in the same house with one!"
"Know, O best of mankind," continued the stranger, "that he who now
addresses thee is Fakrash-el-Aamash, one of the Green Jinn. And I dwelt
in the Palace of the Mountain of the Clouds above the City of Babel in
the Garden of Irem, which thou doubtless knowest by repute?"
"I fancy I _have_ heard of it," said Horace, as if it were an address in
the Court Directory. "Delightful neighbourhood."
"I had a kinswoman, Bedeea-el-Jemal, who possessed incomparable beauty
and manifold accomplishments. And seeing that, though a Jinneeyeh, she
was of the believing Jinn, I despatched messengers to Suleyman the
Great, the son of Daood, offering him her hand in marriage. But a
certain Jarjarees, the son of Rejmoos, the son of Iblees--may he be for
ever accursed!--looked with favour upon the maiden, and, going secretly
unto Suleyman, persuaded him that I was preparing a crafty snare for the
King'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 the
somewhat evasive reply. "Thus it came to pass that Suleyman--on whom be
peace!--listened unto the voice of Jarjarees and refused to receive the
maiden. Moreover, he commanded that I should be seized and imprisoned in
a bottle of brass and cast into the Sea of El-Karkar, there to abide the
Day of Doom."
"Too bad--really too bad!" murmured Horace, in a tone that he could only
hope was sufficiently sympathetic.
"But now, by thy means, O thou of noble ancestors and gentle
disposition, my deliverance hath been accomplished; and if I were to
serve thee for a thousand years, regarding nothing else, even thus could
I not requite thee, and my so doing would be a small thing according to
thy desserts!"
"Pray don't mention it," said Horace; "only too pleased if I've been of
any use to you."
"In the sky it is written upon the pages of the air: 'He who doth kind
actions 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 be
wanting to give me a present of some sort soon--and of course I can't
have that.... My dear Mr. Fakrash," he said aloud, "I've done
nothing--nothing at all--and if I had, I couldn't possibly accept any
reward 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;" and
Ventimore 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 that
is--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 be
perceived. In other words, I've never _been_ rewarded, because I've
never 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 and
doesn't care how much he spends on it. There must be lots of them
about--but they never seem to come in _my_ direction."
"Grant me a period of delay, and, if it be possible, I will procure thee
such a client."
Horace could not help thinking that any recommendation from such a
quarter would hardly carry much weight; but, as the poor old man
evidently imagined himself under an obligation, which he was anxious to
discharge, it would have been unkind to throw cold water on his good
intentions.
"My dear sir," he said lightly, "if you _should_ come across that
particular type of client, and can contrive to impress him with the
belief that I'm just the architect he's looking out for--which, between
ourselves, I am, though nobody's discovered it yet--if you can get him
to come to me, you will do me the very greatest service I could ever
hope 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 the
will for the deed."
"First of all, it will be prudent to learn where Suleyman is, that I may
humble 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 what
direction I should seek him. But till I have found him, and justified
myself in his sight, and had my revenge upon Jarjarees, mine enemy, I
shall 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 falling
into the hands of the police. "Plenty of time to go and call on Suleyman
to-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 you
see, 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 Ben
striking the quarters in Westminster Clock Tower, and then, after a
pause, the solemn boom that announced the first of the small hours.
"To-morrow," thought Ventimore, "I'll speak to Mrs. Rapkin, and get her
to send for a doctor and have him put under proper care--the poor old
boy really isn't fit to go about alone!"
"I will start now--at once," insisted the stranger "for there is no time
to be lost."
"Oh, come!" said Horace, "after so many thousand years, a few hours more
or less won't make any serious difference. And you _can't_ go out
now--they've shut up the house. Do let me take you upstairs to your
room, sir."
"Not so, for I must leave thee for a season, O young man of kind
conduct. But may thy days be fortunate, and the gate never cease to be
repaired, 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 permitted
unto me, I will cover thee with the veils of my protection!"
As he finished this harangue the speaker seemed, to Ventimore's
speechless amazement, to slip through the wall behind him. At all
events, 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't
really have vanished through the wall," he said to himself. "That's too
absurd. The fact is, I'm over-excited this evening--and no wonder, after
all that's happened. The best thing I can do is to go to bed at once."
Which he accordingly proceeded to do.