[_He goes towards door at back and waves his hand. The door flies open. The chant is heard as before. A pause, after which the HEAD SLAVE enters and salaams. Then the train of black slaves pour in noiselessly, and proceed to carry out the chests, &c., and throw the bales out over the balcony._ HORACE. [_Encouraging them._] That's right! _All_ those are to go. Put your back into it! [_To some slaves who are throwing down bales from the balcony._] Do be careful! You nearly bowled a camel over _that_ time! [_The last slave has gone out with a sack from which an immense blue jewel has rolled; HORACE picks it up and calls after him._] Hi! You've dropped a little sapphire thing! [_The HEAD SLAVE takes the sapphire from him and salaams._] Sure you've got the lot? All right! Good day! [_The HEAD SLAVE makes a final salaam and goes out, the door closing after him mysteriously; HORACE approaches FAKRASH._] It's awfully nice of you not to be _offended_, old fellow, and I'm just as much obliged as if I'd _kept_ the things, you know. FAKRASH. It is no matter. Thou shalt receive other rewards more to thy liking. HORACE. [_Alarmed._] No, no! I assure you I don't want _anything_. I can get along quite well by myself. Because--of course, _you_ wouldn't know it, but--[_with pride_]--I've got a client now! FAKRASH. [_Calmly._] I know it. Was he not my first gift unto thee? HORACE. [_Staggered._] Your first----? No, no--don't you go taking credit for _that_! He assured me himself that he came of his own accord! FAKRASH. He knew no better. Nevertheless it was I that procured him for thee. HORACE. How? FAKRASH. [_Airily._] In the easiest manner possible. Having remarked him upon a bridge, I transported him instantly to thy dwelling, impressing him without his knowledge with thy names and thy marvellous abilities. HORACE. [_Horrified--to himself._] Good Lord! He _said_ he came in by the window! [_To FAKRASH._] So you did _that_, did you? Then you took a confounded liberty! You'd no business to introduce clients to me in that irregular way! Don't you ever do this sort of thing again! Just attend to your own affairs in future. I _understood_ you were going off in search of Suleymán. It's high time you _started_. You won't find him in _this_ country, you know. FAKRASH. He is on some journey--for in Jerusalem itself could I find no sign of him. HORACE. Oh, come! You can't have flown as far as Jerusalem and back _already_! FAKRASH. Know'st thou not that, to a Jinnee of the Jinn, distance is but a trifling matter? HORACE.