"Well said," agreed the Shareef. "Now for the final proof: give me the seal."
"What seal?" countered Rankin.
"The leaden seal from the shattered urn."
Rankin started at this glib mention of the seal his father had given him nearly twenty years ago, and wondered how the Shareef could know of the incident.
"That I can not do," declared Rankin. "It is the leaden impression of the seal of Suleiman Baalshem, who commanded that no hands other than my own should touch it."
The old man nodded and smiled.
"I was aware also of that. So hold it in your own hands that I may examine it."
Rankin produced a small leather bag suspended from a chain passed around his neck. Opening the bag, he took therefrom a small disk of lead, and held it up for the Shareef to examine.
The Shareef and his son bowed low.
"Bismillahi rahmani raheem!" they exclaimed. "Praise to God, Lord of the Worlds! It is truly the seal of Suleiman Baalshem."