Ibn Jad elevated his palms. "What can I do?" he asked.
"You can—you can—why there must be something that you can do," wailed the frightened man.
"There is naught that any can do—save yourself," whispered the sheik.
"What do you mean?"
"He lies asleep in yon beyt and—thou hast a sharp khusa."
"I have never killed a man," whimpered Stimbol.
"Nor hast thou ever been killed," reminded the sheik; "but tonight thou must kill or tomorrow thou wilt be killed."
"God!" gasped Stimbol.
"It is late," said Ibn Jad, "and I go to my sleeping mat. I have warned thee—do what thou wilt in the matter," and he arose as though to enter the woman's quarters.
Trembling, Stimbol staggered out into the night. For a moment he hesitated, then he crouched and crept silently through the darkness toward the beyt that had been erected for the ape-man.