Hassan began then to indulge in this
dangerous occupation; and was constantly
disturbed by recurring curiosity as to his own
history and prospects. After one or two
attempts, he abandoned the hope of obtaining
information from the Persian, and turned to
Saleh; from whom he received a grave
rebuke. Being a youth of virtuous mind, he
was not much offended, and easily persuaded
himself to admit that what was not told him
it was not fitting he should know.

It is much easier, however, to make such an
admission than to act upon it. The thought
that there was a mystery in his existence,
perpetually recurred to Hassan. It made him
miserable. What if his own existence were
concealed with an evil motive? What if some
dreadful conspiracy were in progress, in which
he was ultimately to be made an instrument?
The restlessness natural to his time of life
found occupation in the discussion of this
great topic. By degrees, encouraging in
himself a suspicious frame of mind, he began
to see everything in a very different light
from formerly. All the actions of the Persian
and of Saleh he jealously scrutinised. The
discretion of the servant was taken to be an
admission of crime; and the meditative hours
of the master, often interrupted by a sudden
start, were evidences of the workings of a
guilty conscience. Every act and every word
of these two men were made to conceal a
poisonous meaning.

The Persian and Saleh had often confidential
conversations on the altered demeanour
of the young man. They thought they
distinguished the symptoms of incipient love;
and wondered to themselves who could have
been the object that aroused it.

"This, indeed, would be a misfortune,"
said the Persian, sadly.

"It is better not to speak to him of
anything; but to contrive that he should
remain still more closely confined," replied
Saleh.

The increased unwillingness exhibited to
allow him to move abroad, gave fresh
impulse to Hassan's suspicion; and at length
he resolved not to remain prisoner any longer,
but to find out by what dark projects he was
surrounded. The means which Hassan chose
to attain his object were characterised by
great cunning, and a certain perverseness
which could scarcely fail to lead to evil results.
Having once convinced himself that the
Persian was his enemy, he felt it to be lawful
to employ all means to over-reach him. He
began by feigning to be ill; and accepted,
without remorse, the kind attentions and
unmurmuring devotions of those who had so
long protected him. Hassan felt the bad
effects of want of faith; and was surprised
and disturbed by finding his heart harden
toward those he had once so loved.

He did not, however, desist; but continued
to feign illness; until the learned doctor who
was called in—having ascertained that there
was no disease of the body—wisely inferred
there might be a disease of the mind, and
recommended that Hassan should be sent
abroad, to wander in the desert and among
the hills. This was what the youth wanted;
and he immediately took advantage of the
permission granted to him.

We need not follow him in his walks
amidst the Tombs of the Kings, and in the
direction of the Valley of the Wanderings.
They often lasted the whole day, and
sometimes until late in the evening. Hassan
wished to accustom his friends not to expect
him at any precise hour, and without regard
to him, to resume their ordinary course of
life. He had noticed that the evening
expeditions had been suspended during his illness;
and, for his purpose, it was necessary that
they should be continued.

At length all things fell into their usual
places: except that Hassan, not without
some misgivings on the Persian's part,
became almost a stranger in the house.

"We shall not restore him exactly as we
wished," said he, sadly.

"Youth is difficult to guide," replied
Saleh; "and it is no wonder Hassan begins
to long for action. When placed on the
level for which he is destined, he will have
enough to think of."

"Blessings on thee for saying so," said a
gentle voice, coming Saleh knew not whence.
He turned pale, and his teeth began to
chatter; for he thought he was in the
presence of some supernatural being. Both
remained a long time silent, and as no other
words were uttered by the strange voice, the
Persian said:

"She has departed; but I must now
confess to thee, Saleh, what thou dost not know.
I should have confided in thee long before,
had not my tongue been tied by a binding
oath."

From this it appears that, up to that time,
Saleh had known but a very small portion of
Hassan's history. Yet, when the story of
Hassan was told, it did not seem so
wonderful as Saleh had expected. The lad
was the son of a great princess whose name
is not usually mentioned by the narrator.
She had secretly, in the absence of her
father, married a young man who had no
other quality than goodness. When her
imprudence was discovered—or rather
confessed; for she fell on her knees before her
parent, and presented him with a new-born
babe,—terrible was the anger which it
excited. Her father seized the husband she
had chosen, cast him into a dungeon, and
denied that there had been any marriage. He
would have slain the boy Hassan had not her
confidant, whom we know as the Persian,
contrived to take him away, and convey him
for a time to a foreign country. In a couple
of years he came back, and hired the house,
where we have seen him living ever since,
waiting for the accomplishment of destiny.