Moussa Isa reseated himself, grabbed the rope again, and with clear conscience, duty done, calmly awaited that which might follow.
Nothing followed. None had seen the deed, consummated in unrelieved gloom; the light had failed most timely….
The next person who mortally affronted Moussa Isa, committing the unpardonable sin, was a grievously fat, foolish Indian Mohammedan youth whose father supported four wives, five sons, six daughters and himself in idleness and an Aden shop.
It was a remarkably idle and unobtrusive shop and yet money flowed into it without stint, mysteriously and unostentatiously, the conduits of its flow being certain modest and retiring Arab visitors in long brown or white haiks, with check cotton head-dresses girt with ropes of camel-hair, who collogued with the honest tradesman and departed as silently and unobtrusively as they came….
One of them, strangely enough, ejaculated "Himmel" and "Donnerwetter" as often as "Bismillah" and "Inshallah" when he swore.
The very fat son of this secretive house in an evil hour one inauspicious evening took it upon him to revile and abuse his father's servant, one Moussa Isa, an African boy, as he performed divers domestic duties in the exiguous "compound" of the dwelling-place and refused to do the fat youth's behest ere completing them.
"Haste thee at once to the bazaar, thou dog," screamed the fat youth.
"Later on," replied Moussa Isa, using the words that express the general attitude of the East.
"Now, dog. Now, Hubshi, or I will beat thee."
"I will kill you," replied Moussa Isa, and again bided his time.