Their entrance was greeted by a politely-subdued buzz of applause and admiration, and an official, who introduced himself as the Prime Warden of the Candlestick-makers' Company, advanced to meet them. "The Lord Mayor will receive you in the library," he said. "If you will have the kindness to follow me----" Horace followed him mechanically. "I'm in for it now," he thought, "whatever it is. If I can only trust Fakrash to back me up--but I'm hanged if I don't believe he's more nervous than I am!" As they came into the noble Library of the Guildhall a fine string band struck up, and Horace, with the Jinnee in his rear, made his way through a lane of distinguished spectators towards a dais, on the steps of which, in his gold-trimmed robes and black-feather hat, stood the Lord Mayor, with his sword and mace-bearers on either hand, and behind him a row of beaming sheriffs. A truly stately and imposing figure did the Chief Magistrate for that particular year present: tall, dignified, with a lofty forehead whose polished temples reflected the light, an aquiline nose, and piercing black eyes under heavy white eyebrows, a frosty pink in his wrinkled cheeks, and a flowing silver beard with a touch of gold still lingering under the lower lip: he seemed, as he stood there, a worthy representative of the greatest and richest city in the world. Horace approached the steps with an unpleasant sensation of weakness at the knees, and no sort of idea what he was expected to do or say when he arrived. And, in his perplexity, he turned for support and guidance to his self-constituted mentor--only to discover that the Jinnee, whose short-sightedness and ignorance had planted him in this present false position, had mysteriously and perfidiously disappeared, and left him to grapple with the situation single-handed. CHAPTER XVI A KILLING FROST Fortunately for Ventimore, the momentary dismay he had felt on finding himself deserted by his unfathomable Jinnee at the very outset of the ceremony passed unnoticed, as the Prime Warden of the Candlestick-makers' Company immediately came to his rescue by briefly introducing him to the Lord Mayor, who, with dignified courtesy, had descended to the lowest step of the dais to receive him. "Mr. Ventimore," said the Chief Magistrate, cordially, as he pressed Horace's hand, "you must allow me to say that I consider this one of the greatest privileges--if not _the_ greatest privilege--that have fallen to my lot during a term of office in which I have had the honour of welcoming more than the usual number of illustrious visitors." "My Lord Mayor," said Horace, with absolute sincerity, "you really overwhelm me. I--I only wish I could feel that I had done anything to deserve this--this magnificent compliment!" "Ah!" replied the Lord Mayor, in a paternally rallying tone. "Modest, my dear sir, I perceive. Like all truly great men! A most admirable trait! Permit me to present you to the Sheriffs."