acter of the engraving--it consists of _a
mythological animal_, and some words, of which the letters "Has" only
are distinguishable. But the animal, at least, is pure Persian. The
Persians, you know, were not only quite worthy competitors with the
Hebrews, the Egyptians, and later on the Greeks, for excellence in the
glyptic art, but this fact is remarkable, that in much the same way
that the figure of the _scarabaeus_ on an intaglio or cameo is a pretty
infallible indication of an Egyptian hand, so is that of a priest or a
grotesque animal a sure indication of a Persian. We may say, then, from
that evidence alone--though there is more--that this gem was certainly
Persian. And having reached that point, the mystery of "Has" vanishes:
for we at once jump at the conclusion that that too is Persian. But
Persian, you say, written in English characters? Yes, and it was
precisely this fact that made its meaning one of what the baronet
childishly calls "the lost secrets of the world": for every successive
inquirer, believing it part of an English phrase, was thus hopelessly
led astray in his investigation. "Has" is, in fact, part of the word
"Hasn-us-Sabah," and the mere circumstance that some of it has been
obliterated, while the figure of the mystic animal remains intact,
shows that it was executed by one of a nation less skilled in the art
of graving in precious stones than the Persians,--by a rude, mediaeval
Englishman, in short,--the modern revival of the art owing its origin,
of course, to the Medici of a later age. And of this Englishman--who
either graved the stone himself, or got some one else to do it for
him--do we know nothing? We know, at least, that he was certainly a
fighter, probably a Norman baron, that on his arm he bore the cross of
red, that he trod the sacred soil of Palestine. Perhaps, to prove this,
I need hardly remind you who Hasn-us-Sabah was. It is enough if I say
that he was greatly mixed up in the affairs of the Crusaders, lending
his irresistible arms now to this side, now to that. He was the chief
of the heterodox Mohammedan sect of the Assassins (this word, I
believe, is actually derived from his name); imagined himself to be an
incarnation of the Deity, and from his inaccessible rock-fortress of
Alamut in the Elburz exercised a sinister influence on the intricate
politics of the day. The Red Cross Knights called him Shaikh-ul-Jabal
--the Old Man of the Mountains, that very nickname connecting
hi