"It will be the easiest of actions," replied Fakrash; "therefore, have no fear that, when the time cometh, thou wilt not be able to entertain thy friends in a fitting manner. And for the caravan, it shall set out without delay."
"By Jove, though, I'd forgotten one thing," said Horace: "I've locked up the room where your presents are—they won't be able to get in without the key."
"Against the servants of the Jinn neither bolts nor bars can prevail. They shall enter therein and remove all that they brought thee, since it is thy desire."
"Very many thanks," said Horace. "And you do really understand that I'm every bit as grateful as if I could keep the things? You see, I want all my time and all my energies to complete the designs for this building, which," he added gracefully, "I should never be in a position to do at all, but for your assistance."
"On my arrival," said Fakrash, "I heard thee lamenting the difficulties of the task; wherein do they consist?"
"Oh," said Horace, "it's a little difficult to please all the different people concerned, and myself too. I want to make something of it that I shall be proud of, and that will give me a reputation. It's a large house, and there will be a good deal of work in it; but I shall manage it all right."
"This is a great undertaking indeed," remarked the Jinnee, after he had asked various by no means unintelligent questions and received the answers. "But be persuaded that it shall all turn out most fortunately and thou shalt obtain great renown. And now," he concluded, "I am compelled to take leave of thee, for I am still without any certain tidings of Suleyman."
"You mustn't let me keep you," said Horace, who had been on thorns for some minutes lest Beevor should return and find him with his mysterious visitor. "You see," he added instructively, "so long as you will neglect your own much more important affairs to look after mine, you can hardly expect to make much progress, can you?"
"How excellent is the saying," replied the Jinnee: "'The time which is spent in doing kindnesses, call it not wasted.'"
"Yes, that's very good," said Horace, feeling driven to silence this maxim, if possible, with one of his own invention. "But we have a saying too—how does it go? Ah, I remember. 'It is possible for a kindness to be more inconvenient than an injury.'"