"Thy claim is not without justice," answered the Jinnee, after a pause, "nor can I decline to gratify thee."
"That's right," cried Horace; "I knew you'd see it in the proper light when it was once put to you. Now, don't lose any more time, but restore that unfortunate man at once, as you've promised."
"Not so," said the Jinnee; "I promised thee a reason for my refusal—and that thou shalt have. Know then, O my son, that this indiscreet one had, by some vile and unhallowed arts, divined the hidden meaning of what was written upon the seal of the bottle wherein I was confined, and was preparing to reveal the same unto all men."
"What would it matter to you if he did?"
"Much—for the writing contained a false and lying record of my actions."
"If it is all lies, it can't do you any harm. Why not treat them with the contempt they deserve?"
"They are not all lies," the Jinnee admitted reluctantly.
"Well, never mind. Whatever you've done, you've expiated it by this time."
"Now that Suleyman is no more, it is my desire to seek out my kinsmen of the Green Jinn, and live out my days in amity and honour. How can that be if they hear my name execrated by all mortals?"
"Nobody would think of execrating you about an affair three thousand years old. It's too stale a scandal."