us of obtaining riches?"

"Because," said Horace, "unless a man is tolerably well off in these
days he cannot hope to marry."

Fakrash smiled with indulgent compassion. "How excellent is the saying
of one of old: 'He that adventureth upon matrimony is like unto one who
thrusteth his hand into a sack containing many thousands of serpents and
one eel. Yet, if Fate so decree, he _may_ draw forth the eel.' And thou
art comely, and of an age when it is natural to desire the love of a
maiden. Therefore be of good heart and a cheerful eye, and it may be
that, when I am more at leisure, I shall find thee a helpmate who shall
rejoice thy soul."

"Please don't trouble to find me anything of the sort!" said Horace,
hastily, with a mental vision of some helpless and scandalised stranger
being shot into his dwelling like coals. "I assure you I would much
rather win a wife for myself in the ordinary way--as, thanks to your
kindness, I have every hope of doing before long."

"Is there already some damsel for whom thy heart pineth? If so, fear not
to tell me her names and dwelling place, and I will assuredly obtain her
for thee."

But Ventimore had seen enough of the Jinnee's Oriental methods to doubt
his tact and discretion where Sylvia was concerned. "No, no; of course
not. I spoke generally," he said. "It's exceedingly kind of you--but I
_do_ wish I could make you understand that I am overpaid as it is. You
have put me in the way to make a name and fortune for myself. If I fail,
it will be my own fault. And, at all events, I want nothing more from
you. If you mean to find Suleyman (on whom be peace!) you must go and
live in the East altogether--for he certainly isn't over here; you must
give up your whole time to it, keep as quiet as possible, and don't be
discouraged by any reports you may hear. Above all, never trouble your
head about me or my affairs again!"

"O thou of wisdom and eloquence," said Fakrash, "this is most excellent
advice. I will go, then; but may I drink the cup of perdition If I
become unmindful of thy benevolence!"

And, raising his joined hands above his head as he spoke, he sank, feet
foremost, through the carpet and was gone.

"Thank Heaven," thought Ventimore, "he's taken the hint at last. I don't
think I'm likely to see any more of him. I feel an ungrateful brute for
saying so, but I can't help it. I can _not_ stand being under any
obligation to a Jinnee who's been shut up in a beastly brass bottle