Part 28 (1/2)

He was not without hopes that Fakrash might act on this suggestion, and that so he would be relieved of him in the simplest and most satisfactory way; but any such hopes were as usual doomed to disappointment.

”It would be of no avail,” said the Jinnee, ”for it hath been written of old that Jarjarees shall not perish save by the hand of a mortal. And I am persuaded that thou wilt turn out to be that mortal, since thou art both strong and fearless, and, moreover, it is also predestined that Bedeea shall wed one of the sons of men.”

”Then,” said Horace, feeling that this line of defence must be abandoned, ”I fall back on objection number one. Even if Jarjarees were obliging enough to retire in my favour, I should still decline to become the--a--consort of a Jinneeyeh whom I've never seen, and don't love.”

”Thou hast heard of her incomparable charms, and verily the ear may love before the eye.”

”It may,” admitted Horace, ”but neither of _my_ ears is the least in love at present.”

”These reasons are of no value,” said Fakrash, ”and if thou hast none better----”

”Well,” said Ventimore, ”I think I have. You profess to be anxious to--to requite the trifling service I rendered you, though hitherto, you'll admit yourself, you haven't made a very brilliant success of it.

But, putting the past aside,” he continued, with a sudden dryness in his throat; ”putting the past aside, I ask you to consider what possible benefit or happiness such a match as this--I'm afraid I'm not so fortunate as to secure your attention?” he broke off, as he observed the Jinnee's eyes beginning to film over in the disagreeable manner characteristic of certain birds.

”Proceed,” said Fakrash, unskinning his eyes for a second; ”I am hearkening unto thee.”

”It seems to me,” stammered Horace, inconsequently enough, ”that all that time inside a bottle--well, you can't call it _experience_ exactly; and possibly in the interval you've forgotten all you knew about feminine nature. I think you _must_ have.”

”It is not possible that such knowledge should be forgotten,” said the Jinnee, resenting this imputation in quite a human way. ”Thy words appear to me to lack sense. Interpret them, I pray thee.”

”Why,” explained Horace, ”you don't mean to tell me that this young and lovely relation of yours, a kind of immortal, and--and with the devil's own pride, would be gratified by your proposal to bestow her hand upon an insignificant and unsuccessful London architect? She'd turn up that sharp and polished nose of hers at the mere idea of so unequal a match!”

”An excellent rank is that conferred by wealth,” remarked the Jinnee.

”But I'm _not_ rich, and I've already declined any riches from you,”

said Horace. ”And, what's more to the point, I'm perfectly and hopelessly obscure. If you had the slightest sense of humour--which I fear you have not--you would at once perceive the absurdity of proposing to unite a radiant, ethereal, superhuman being to a commonplace professional nonent.i.ty in a morning coat and a tall hat. It's really too ridiculous!”

”What thou hast just said is not altogether without wisdom,” said Fakrash, to whom this was evidently a new point of view. ”Art thou, indeed, so utterly unknown?”

”Unknown?” repeated Horace; ”I should rather think I was! I'm simply an inconsiderable unit in the population of the vastest city in the world; or, rather, not a unit--a cipher. And, don't you see, a man to be worthy of your exalted kinswoman ought to be a celebrity. There are plenty of them about.”

”What meanest thou by a celebrity?” inquired Fakrash, falling into the trap more readily than Horace had ventured to hope.

”Oh, well, a distinguished person, whose name is on everybody's lips, who is honoured and praised by all his fellow-citizens. Now, _that_ kind of man no Jinneeyeh could look down upon.”

”I perceive,” said Fakrash, thoughtfully. ”Yes, I was in danger of committing a rash action. How do men honour such distinguished individuals in these days?”

”They generally overfeed them,” said Horace. ”In London the highest honour a hero can be paid is to receive the freedom of the City, which is only conferred in very exceptional cases, and for some notable service. But, of course, there are other sorts of celebrities, as you could see if you glanced through the society papers.”

”I cannot believe that thou, who seemest a gracious and talented young man, can be indeed so obscure as thou hast represented.”

”My good sir, any of the flowers that blush unseen in the desert air, or the gems concealed in ocean caves, so excellently described by one of our poets, could give me points and a beating in the matter of notoriety. I'll make you a sporting offer. There are over five million inhabitants in this London of ours. If you go out into the streets and ask the first five hundred you meet whether they know me, I don't mind betting you--what shall I say? a new hat--that you won't find half a dozen who've ever even heard of my existence. Why not go out and see for yourself?”

To his surprise and gratification the Jinnee took this seriously. ”I will go forth and make inquiry,” he said, ”for I desire further enlightenment concerning thy statements. But, remember,” he added: ”should I still require thee to wed the matchless Bedeea-el-Jemal, and thou shouldst disobey me, thou wilt bring disaster, not on thine own head, but on those thou art most desirous of protecting.”

”Yes, so you told me before,” said Horace, brusquely. ”Good evening.”

But Fakrash was already gone. In spite of all he had gone through and the unknown difficulties before him, Ventimore was seized with what Uncle Remus calls ”a spell of the dry grins” at the thought of the probable replies that the Jinnee would meet with in the course of his inquiries. ”I'm afraid he won't be particularly impressed by the politeness of a London crowd,” he thought; ”but at least they'll convince him that I am not exactly a prominent citizen. Then he'll give up this idiotic match of his--I don't know, though. He's such a pig-headed old fool that he may stick to it all the same. I may find myself enc.u.mbered with a Jinneeyeh bride several centuries my senior before I know where I am. No, I forget; there's the jealous Jarjarees to be polished off first. I seem to remember something about a quick-change combat with an Efreet in the ”Arabian Nights.” I may as well look it up, and see what may be in store for me.”