"The ring of Hassan Sabah!" exclaimed the dwarf.
"Mashallah! is it not a talisman?" came the reply. "Graven with the sign of the 'dirk and the cord,' no Ismaelian dare refuse anything commanded by the bearer, whosoever he be, under pain of forfeit of the pearl-walled pavilion of Paradise. Even the bidding of a grand prior, except he be present in person to order otherwise, is over-ridden by a fisherman wearing this ring. Therefore guard as the apple of your eye. Place it in the strong box where I keep my gems; only wear the key about your neck."
The dwarf knelt and kissed his master's robe.
"Cid, you overwhelm me with your confidence! How may I requite?"
Iftikhar only laughed carelessly; the dwarf's eye roved round the room.
"Morgiana has seen and heard," suddenly he whispered.
The grand prior's answer was a second laugh. Then he added: "Morgiana? She would shed half her blood before twittering such a secret. Smell out greater dangers, my Zeyneb!"