ered that the Hashishin
had murdered Professor Deeping and had mutilated others wholly
innocent of offence. I looked across at the old man. He had drawn
himself up to his great height, and for the first time fully
raising the lids, had fixed upon me the piercing gaze of a pair of
eagle eyes. I started, for the aspect of this majestic figure was
entirely different from that of the old stranger who had stood
suppliant before me a moment ago.

"It is impossible," I said. "I can come to no terms with those
who shield murderers."

He regarded me fixedly, but did not move.

"Es-selam 'aleykum!" I added ("Peace be on you!") closing the
interview in the Eastern manner.

The old man lowered his eyes, and saluted me with graceful gravity.

"Wa-'aleykum!" he said ("And on you!"). I conducted him to the
door and closed it upon his exit. In his last salute I had noticed
the flashing of a ring which he wore upon his left hand, and he was
gone scarce ten seconds ere my heart began to beat furiously. I
snatched up "Assyrian Mythology" and with trembling fingers turned
to a certain page.

There I read--

Each Sheikh of the Assassins is said to be invested with the "Ring
of the Prophet." It bears a green stone, shaped in the form of a
scimitar or crescent.

My dreadful suspicion was confirmed. I knew who my visitor had
been.

"God in heaven!" I whispered. "It was Hassan of Aleppo!"

CHAPTER VII

FIRST ATTEMPT ON THE SAFE

On the following morning I was awakened by the arrival of Bristol.
I hastened to admit him.

"Your visitor of yesterday," he began, "has wasted no time!"

"What has happened?"

He tugged irritably at his moustache. "I don't know!" he replied.
"Of course it was no surprise to find that there isn't a Mohammedan
who'll lay his little finger on Professor Deeping's safe! There's
no doubt in my mind that every lascar at the docks knows Hassan of
Aleppo to be in England. Some other arrangement will have to be
arrived at, if the thing is ever to be taken to the Antiquarian
Museum. Meanwhile we stand to lose it. Last night--"

He accepted a cigarette, and lighted it carefully.

"Last night," he resumed, "a member of P Division was on point
duty outside the late Professor's house, and two C.I.D. men were
actually in the room where the safe is. Result--someone has put
in at least an hour's work on the lock, but it proved too tough a
job!"

I stared at him amazedly.

"Someone has