y well, Horace, but unless something is done _soon_ it will
be too late. We can't go _on_ keeping a mule in the study without the
servants suspecting something, and where are we to put poor, dear papa?
It's too ghastly to think of his having to be sent away to--to a Home of
Rest for Horses--and yet what _is_ to be done with him?... Why do you
come if you can't do anything?"

"I shouldn't be here unless I could bring you good news. You remember
what I told you about the Jinnee?"

"Remember!" cried Sylvia. "As if I could forget! Has he really come
back, Horace?"

"Yes. I think I have brought him to see that he has made a foolish
mistake in enchanting your unfortunate father, and he seems willing to
undo it on certain conditions. He is somewhere within call at this
moment, and will come in whenever I give the signal. But he wishes to
speak to you first."

"To _me_? Oh, no, Horace!" exclaimed Sylvia, recoiling. "I'd so much
rather not. I don't like things that have come out of brass bottles. I
shouldn't know what to say, and it would frighten me horribly."

"You must be brave, darling!" said Horace. "Remember that it depends on
you whether the Professor is to be restored or not. And there's nothing
alarming about old Fakrash, either, I've got him to put on ordinary
things, and he really doesn't look so bad in them. He's quite a mild,
amiable old noodle, and he'll do anything for you, if you'll only stroke
him down the right way. You _will_ see him, won't you, for your father's
sake?"

"If I must," said Sylvia, with a shudder, "I--I'll be as nice to him as
I can."

Horace went to the window and gave the signal, though there was no one
in sight. However, it was evidently seen, for the next moment there was
a resounding blow at the front door, and a little later Jessie, the
parlour-maid, announced "Mr. Fatrasher Larmash--to see Mr. Ventimore,"
and the Jinnee stalked gravely in, with his tall hat on his head.

"You are probably not aware of it, sir," said Horace, "but it is the
custom here to uncover in the presence of a lady." 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.

"The damsel is not without comeliness," he re