"Wait one moment," said Horace. "What is that bulge in your breast-pocket?"
"Of a truth," said the Jinnee, looking relieved but not a little foolish as he extracted the object, "it is indeed the seal."
"You're in such a hurry to think the worst of everybody, you see!" said Horace. "Now, do try to carry away with you into your seclusion a better opinion of human nature."
"Perdition to all the people of this age!" cried Fakrash, re-assuming his green robe and turban, "for I now put no faith in human beings and would afflict them all, were not the Lord Mayor (on whom be peace!) mightier than I. Therefore, while it is yet time, take thou the stopper, and swear that, after I am in this bottle, thou wilt seal it as before and cast it into deep waters, where no eye will look upon it more!"
"With all the pleasure in the world!" said Horace; "only you must keep your part of the bargain first. You will kindly obliterate all recollection of yourself and the brass bottle from the minds of every human being who has had anything to do with you or it."
"Not so," objected the Jinnee, "for thus wouldst thou forget thy compact."
"Oh, very well, leave me out, then," said Horace. "Not that anything could make me forget you!"
Fakrash swept his right hand round in a half circle. "It is accomplished," he said. "All recollection of myself and yonder bottle is now erased from the memories of every one but thyself."
"But how about my client?" said Horace. "I can't afford to lose him, you know."
"He shall return unto thee," said the Jinnee, trembling with impatience. "Now perform thy share."