marked to Horace; "but
there are lovelier far than she."

"I didn't ask you for either criticisms or comparisons," said Ventimore,
sharply; "there is nobody in the world equal to Miss Futvoye, in my
opinion, and you will be good enough to remember that fact. She is
exceedingly distressed (as any dutiful daughter would be) by the cruel
and senseless trick you have played her father, and she begs that you
will rectify it at once. Don't you, Sylvia?"

"Yes, indeed!" said Sylvia, almost in a whisper, "if--if it isn't
troubling you too much!"

"I have been turning over thy words in my mind," said Fakrash to Horace,
still ignoring Sylvia, "and I am convinced that thou art right. Even if
the contents of the seal were known of all men, they would raise no
clamour about affairs that concern them not. Therefore it is nothing to
me in whose hands the seal may be. Dost thou not agree with me in this?"

"Of course I do," said Horace. "And it naturally follows that----"

"It naturally follows, as thou sayest," said the Jinnee, with a cunning
assumption of indifference, "that I have naught to gain by demanding
back the seal as the price of restoring this damsel's father to his
original form. Wherefore, so far as I am concerned, let him remain a
mule for ever; unless, indeed, thou art ready to comply with my
conditions."

"Conditions!" cried Horace, utterly unprepared for this conclusion.
"What can you possibly want from me? But state them. I'll agree to
anything, in reason!"

"I demand that thou shouldst renounce the hand of this damsel."

"That's out of all reason," said Horace, "and you know it. I will never
give her up, so long as she is willing to keep me."

"Maiden," said the Jinnee, addressing Sylvia for the first time, "the
matter rests with thee. Wilt thou release this my son from his contract,
since thou art no fit wife for such as he?"

"How can I," cried Sylvia, "when I love him and he loves me? What a
wicked tyrannical old thing you must be to expect it! I _can't_ give him
up."

"It is but giving up what can never be thine," said Fakrash. "And be not
anxious for him, for I will reward and console him a thousandfold for
the loss of thy society. A little while, and he shall remember thee no
more."

"Don't believe him, darling," said Horace; "you know me better than
that."

"Remember," said the Jinnee, "that by thy refusal thou wilt condemn thy
parent to remain a mule throughout all his days. Art thou so unna