Once again Abdullah turned around to find the soldier watching him, but this time the soldier said nothing at all. Abdullah was fairly sure he was simply biding his time. That day, as they trudged onward, the ground climbed. The lush green lanes gave way to sandy tracks bordered with bushes that were dry and spiny. The soldier remarked cheerfully that they seemed to be getting somewhere different at last. Abdullah only grunted. He was determined not to give the soldier an opening.

By nightfall they were high on an open heath, looking over a new stretch of the plain. A faint pimple on the horizon was, the soldier said, still very cheerful, certainly Kingsbury. As they settled down to camp, he invited Abdullah, even more cheerfully, to see how charmingly Whippersnapper was playing with the buckles on his pack.

“Doubtless,” said Abdullah. “It charms me even less than a lump on the skyline that may be Kingsbury.”

There was another huge red sunset. While they ate supper, the soldier pointed it out to Abdullah and drew his attention to a large red castle-shaped cloud. “Isn’t that beautiful?” he said.

“It is only a cloud,” said Abdullah. “It has no artistic merit.”

“Friend,” said the soldier, “I think you are letting that genie get to you.”

“How so?” said Abdullah.

The soldier pointed with his spoon to the distant dark hummock against the sunset. “See there?” he said. “Kingsbury. Now, I have a hunch, and I think you do, too, that things are going to start moving when we get there. But we don’t seem to get there. Don’t think I can’t see your point of view: You’re a young fellow, disappointed in love, impatient; naturally you think Fate’s against you. Take it from me, Fate doesn’t care either way most of the time. The genie’s not on anyone’s side any more than Fate is.”

“How do you make that out?” asked Abdullah.

“Because he hates everyone,” said the soldier. “Maybe it’s his nature—though I daresay being shut in a bottle doesn’t help any. But don’t forget that whatever his feelings, he’s always got to grant you a wish. Why make it hard for yourself just to spite the genie? Why not make the most useful wish you can, get what you want out of it, and put up with whatever he does to send it wrong? I’ve been thinking this through, and it seems to me that whatever that genie does to send it wrong, your best wish is still to ask for that magic carpet back.”