FAKRASH. I am returned to impart unto thee wondrous intelligence. HORACE. Oh? Well, fire away. Take a cushion. [_Flinging him one from the divan._ FAKRASH. [_Squatting on cushion._] Hearken! During my wanderings I have learnt that, beyond all doubt, Suleymán, the son of Dáood, sleeps with his fathers! HORACE. As a matter of fact, he's been doing that for about three thousand years. FAKRASH. Sayest thou so? Then--[_cunningly_]--tell me. Doth there still remain any one of Suleymán's seed that exerciseth his authority over them of the Jinn? HORACE. No. As soon as you've made things right for _me_, you can go off to your own country and settle down comfortably--there's no power on earth that can interfere with you. FAKRASH. Then--before I do thee any further service--bring hither the stopper wherewith my bottle was sealed. HORACE. [_Uneasily._] The--the stopper? Oh, nonsense! You can't want that _now_! What for? As a _souvenir_? FAKRASH. Nay, but because in all likelihood it is engraven with the mighty seal of Suleymán. HORACE. [_Rising excitedly._] I say! Are you _sure_ of that? FAKRASH. So it was customary with such vessels. And, bearing such a seal, I shall possess a mighty talisman. [_Rising from his cushion._] Wherefore deliver it into my hands without delay, and I will reward thee by accomplishing all thy desires. HORACE. [_In extreme embarrassment._] I--I'd be only too happy to oblige you--if I could. But--well, the fact is, I've just parted with it. FAKRASH. [_Advancing on him in sudden fury._] _Parted_ with it! With my seal! O thou of little sense! To whom? To _whom_, I say? HORACE. To the father of the lady I was engaged to. He's a learned man, you see, and I knew, if there _was_ anything engraved on the seal, he'd be able to make it out. FAKRASH. [_Striding up and down the hall, and brandishing his arms._] Perdition seize thee! For he will assuredly refuse to surrender such a talisman! Woe to me, for I am undone! Undone! Undone! HORACE. Don't talk rot! You _aren't_ undone--and nobody wants to undo you! [_FAKRASH utters wild cries._] Don't go howling about like that--sit down again and be sensible. FAKRASH. [_Halting opposite HORACE, with a menacing gesture._] Take heed to thyself! For if thou dost not restore my seal immediately----! HORACE. [_Facing him composedly._] It's no good trying to bully _me_, you know. _I'm_ not afraid of you. You sit down and be civil, and promise to do exactly as I tell you--or I'm hanged if I help you to get your seal back. FAKRASH. [_With sudden self-restraint._] My son, it was naught! Am I not thy servant? On the head and eye be all thy commands! [_He sits down on the cushion._ HORACE.