Part 9 (2/2)

BOTTLED BILLIONS

AMAZING ARABESQUES BY AN ARCHITECT

HE SAYS THE JAR CONTAINED A JINNEE

SENSATIONAL STORY

DIVERTING DETAILS

And so on, through every phrase of alliterative ingenuity. He ground his teeth at the mere thought of it. Then Sylvia would come to hear of it, and what would _she_ think? She would naturally be repelled, as any nice-minded girl would be, by the idea that her lover was in secret alliance with a supernatural being. And her father and mother--would they allow her to marry a man, however rich, whose wealth came from such a questionable source? No one would believe that he had not made some unholy bargain before consenting to set this incarcerated spirit free--he, who had acted in absolute ignorance, who had persistently declined all reward after realising what he had done!

No, it was too much. Try as he might to do justice to the Jinnee's grat.i.tude and generosity, he could not restrain a bitter resentment at the utter want of consideration shown in overloading him with gifts so useless and so compromising. No Jinnee--however old, however unfamiliar with the world as it is now--had any right to be such a fool!

And at this, above the ramparts of sacks and bales, which occupied all the available s.p.a.ce in the room, appeared Mrs. Rapkin's face.

”I was going to ask you, sir, before them parcels came,” she began, with a dry cough of disapproval, ”what you would like in the way of ongtray to-morrow night. I thought if I could find a sweetbread at all reasonable----”

To Horace--surrounded as he was by incalculable riches--sweetbreads seemed incongruous just then; the transition of thought was too violent.

”I can't bother about that now, Mrs. Rapkin,” he said; ”we'll settle it to-morrow. I'm too busy.”

”I suppose most of these things will have to go back, sir, if they're only sent on approval like?”

If he only knew where and how he could send them back! ”I--I'm not sure,” he said; ”I may have to keep them.”

”Well, sir, bargain or none, I wouldn't have 'em as a gift myself, being so dirty and fusty; they can't be no use to anybody, not to mention there being no room to move with them blocking up all the place. I'd better tell Rapkin to carry 'em all upstairs out of people's way.”

”Certainly not,” said Horace, sharply, by no means anxious for the Rapkins to discover the real nature of his treasures. ”Don't touch them, either of you. Leave them exactly as they are, do you understand?”

”As you please, Mr. Ventimore, sir; only, if they're not to be interfered with, I don't see myself how you're going to set your friends down to dinner to-morrow, that's all.”

And, indeed, considering that the table and every available chair, and even the floor, were heaped so high with valuables that Horace himself could only just squeeze his way between the piles, it seemed as if his guests might find themselves inconveniently cramped.

”It will be all right,” he said, with an optimism he was very far from feeling; ”we'll manage somehow--leave it to me.”

Before he left for his office he took the precaution to baffle any inquisitiveness on the part of his landlady by locking his sitting-room door and carrying away the key, but it was in a very different mood from his former light-hearted confidence that he sat down to his drawing-board in Great Cloister Street that morning. He could not concentrate his mind; his enthusiasm and his ideas had alike deserted him.

He flung down the dividers he had been using and pushed away the nest of saucers of Indian ink and colours in a fit of petulance. ”It's no good,”

he exclaimed aloud; ”I feel a perfect duffer this morning. I couldn't even design a decent dog-kennel!”

Even as he spoke he became conscious of a presence in the room, and, looking round, saw Fakrash the Jinnee standing at his elbow, smiling down on him more benevolently than ever, and with a serene expectation of being warmly welcomed and thanked, which made Horace rather ashamed of his own inability to meet it.

”He's a thoroughly good-natured old chap,” he thought, self-reproachfully. ”He means well, and I'm a beast not to feel more glad to see him. And yet, hang it all! I can't have him popping in and out of the office like a rabbit whenever the fancy takes him!”

”Peace be upon thee,” said Fakrash. ”Moderate the trouble of thy heart, and impart thy difficulties to me.”

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