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 happe