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!