After a protracted audience, the Sultan made sign that he wished to be alone, and when all had withdrawn, except my betrothed and myself, he turned to me, saying—
“Of a verity, Zafar, thou hast fought a valiant fight. Strange it is that thou returnest to that which is thine own.”
“How?” I inquired, puzzled at his words.
“Thou bearest the Mark of the Asps,” he answered.
“The same symbol was borne by Istar,” I said. “I discovered it while she slept.”
“Upon my breast also is the mark,” Azala observed.
“The mysterious emblem hath, of course, puzzled thee,” the Sultan said, smiling as he addressed me. “Azala hath ofttimes asked its meaning, but I have rendered no explanation until now. Because thou art betrothed unto my daughter, it is but fitting that I should make explanation. Thou hast witnessed the symbol upon the foundation-stone of Semiramis, and I have to-day learned that Istar, as represented in image at the summit of the Seven Lights, beareth in her hand the asps entwined. The Mark of the Asps is the Babylonian sign of royal sonship, the symbol with which the first-born of every ruler since Semiramis hath been branded.”
“But how came I to bear the mark?” I inquired, eagerly.
“Thou hast heard the oft-repeated story of the man who, long ages ago, before the great earthquake, succeeded in eluding the vigilance of the guards at the Rock of the Great Sin, and escaped into our world.”
“Yea. I have often pondered deeply over that legendary tale,” I replied.