Part 25 (2/2)
”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 unnatural and hard-hearted a daughter as to do this thing?”
”Oh, I couldn't!” cried Sylvia. ”I can't let poor father remain a mule all his life when one word--and yet what _am_ I to do? Horace, what shall I say? Advise me.... Advise me!”
”Heaven help us both!” groaned Ventimore. ”If I could only see the right thing to do. Look here, Mr. Fakrash,” he added, ”this is a matter that requires consideration. Will you relieve us of your presence for a short time, while we talk it over?”
”With all my heart,” said the Jinnee, in the most obliging manner in the world, and vanished instantly.
”Now, darling,” began Horace, after he had gone, ”if that unspeakable old scoundrel is really in earnest, there's no denying that he's got us in an extremely tight place. But I can't bring myself to believe that he _does_ mean it. I fancy he's only trying us. And what I want you to do is not to consider me in the matter at all.”
”How can I help it?” said poor Sylvia. ”Horace, you--you don't _want_ to be released, do you?”
”I?” said Horace, ”when you are all I have in the world! That's so likely, Sylvia! But we are bound to look facts in the face. To begin with, even if this hadn't happened, your people wouldn't let our engagement continue. For my prospects have changed again, dearest. I'm even worse off than when we first met, for that confounded Jinnee has contrived to lose my first and only client for me--the one thing worth having he ever gave me.” And he told her the story of the mushroom palace and Mr. Wackerbath's withdrawal. ”So you see, darling,” he concluded, ”I haven't even a home to offer you; and if I had, it would be miserably uncomfortable for you with that old Marplot continually dropping in on us--especially if, as I'm afraid he has, he's taken some unreasonable dislike to you.”
”But surely you can talk him over?” said Sylvia; ”you said you could do anything you liked with him.”
”I'm beginning to find,” he replied, ruefully enough, ”that he's not so easily managed as I thought. And for the present, I'm afraid, if we are to get the Professor out of this, that there's nothing for it but to humour old Fakrash.”
”Then you actually advise me to--to break it off?” she cried; ”I never thought you would do that!”
”For your own sake,” said Horace; ”for your father's sake. If _you_ won't, Sylvia, I _must_. And you will spare me that? Let us both agree to part and--and trust that we shall be united some day.”
”Don't try to deceive me or yourself, Horace,” she said; ”if we part now, it will be for ever.”
He had a dismal conviction that she was right. ”We must hope for the best,” he said drearily; ”Fakrash may have some motive in all this we don't understand. Or he may relent. But part we must, for the present.”
”Very well,” she said. ”If he restores dad, I will give you up. But not unless.”
”Hath the damsel decided?” asked the Jinnee, suddenly re-appearing; ”for the period of deliberation is past.”
”Miss Futvoye and I,” Horace answered for her, ”are willing to consider our engagement at an end, until you approve of its renewal, on condition that you restore her father at once.”
”Agreed!” said Fakrash. ”Conduct me to him, and we will arrange the matter without delay.”
Outside they met Mrs. Futvoye on her way from the study. ”You here, Horace?” she exclaimed. ”And who is this--gentleman?”
”This,” said Horace, ”is the--er--author of the Professor's misfortunes, and he had come here at my request to undo his work.”
”It _would_ be so kind of him!” exclaimed the distressed lady, who was by this time far beyond either surprise or resentment. ”I'm sure, if he knew all we have gone through----!” and she led the way to her husband's room.
As soon as the door was opened the Professor seemed to recognise his tormentor in spite of his changed raiment, and was so powerfully agitated that he actually reeled on his four legs, and ”stood over” in a lamentable fas.h.i.+on.
”O man of distinguished attainments!” began the Jinnee, ”whom I have caused, for reasons that are known unto thee, to a.s.sume the shape of a mule, speak, I adjure thee, and tell me where thou hast deposited the inscribed seal which is in thy possession.”
The Professor spoke; and the effect of articulate speech proceeding from the mouth of what was to all outward seeming an ordinary mule was strange beyond description. ”I'll see you d.a.m.ned first,” he said sullenly. ”You can't do worse to me than you've done already!”
”As thou wilt,” said Fakrash; ”but unless I regain it, I will not restore thee to what thou wast.”
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