That night as the Galla slave, Fejjuan, walked through the menzil of his masters he saw Ibn Jad and Tollog sitting in the sheik's mukaad whispering together and Fejjuan, well aware of the inherent turpitude of this precious pair, wondered what might be the nature of their plotting.
Behind the curtain of the hareem Ateja lay huddled upon her sleeping mat, but she did not sleep. Instead she was listening to the whispered conversation of her father and her uncle.
"He must be put out of the way," Ibn Jad insisted.
"But his Waziri are coming," objected Tollog. "If they do not find him here what can we say? They will not believe us, whatever we say. They will set upon us. I have heard that they are terrible men."
"By Ullah!" cried Ibn Jad. "If he stays we are undone. Better risk something than to return empty handed to our own country after all that we have passed through."
"If thou thinkest that I shall again take this business upon myself thou art mistaken, brother," said Tollog. "Once was enough."
"No, not thee; but we must find a way. Is there none among us who might wish more than another to be rid of the Nasrany?" asked Ibn Jad, but to himself as though he were thinking aloud.
"The other Nasrany!" exclaimed Tollog. "He hateth him."
Ibn Jad clapped his hands together. "Thou hast it, brother!"
"But still shall we be held responsible," reminded Tollog.
"What matter if he be out of the way. We can be no worse off than we now are. Suppose Batando came tomorrow with the guides? Then indeed would the jungle sheik know that we have lied to him, and it might go hard with us. No, we must be rid of him this very night."
"Yes, but how?" asked Tollog.
"Hold! I have a plan. Listen well, O brother!" and Ibn Jad rubbed his palms together and smiled, but he would not have smiled, perhaps had he known that Ateja listened, or had he seen the silent figure crouching in the dark just beyond the outer curtain of his beyt.
"Speak, Ibn Jad," urged Tollog, "tell me thy plan."
"Wellah, it is known by all that the Nasrany Stimbol hates the sheik of the jungle. With loud tongue he hath proclaimed it many times before all when many were gathered in my mukaad."
"You would send Stimbol to slay Tarzan of the Apes?"
"Thou guessed aright," admitted Ibn Jad.
"But how wilt that relieve us of responsibility? He wilt have been slain by thy order in thine own menzil," objected Tollog.
"Wait! I shall not command the one Nasrany to slay the other; I shall but suggest it, and when it is done I shall be filled with rage and horror that this murder hath been done in my menzil. And to prove my good faith I shall order that the murderer be put to death in punishment for his crime. Thus we shall be rid of two unbelieving dogs and at the same time be able to convince the Waziri that we were indeed the friends of their sheik, for we shall mourn him with loud lamentations—when the Waziri shall have arrived."
"Allah be praised for such a brother!" exclaimed Tollog, enraptured.
"Go thou now, at once, and summon the Nasrany Stimbol," directed Ibn Jad. "Send him to me alone, and after I have spoken with him and he hath departed upon his errand come thee back to my beyt."
Ateja trembled upon her sleeping mat, while the silent figure crouching outside the sheik's tent arose after Tollog had departed and disappeared in the darkness of the night.
Hastily summoned from the beyt of Fahd, Stimbol, cautioned to stealth by Tollog, moved silently through the darkness to the mukaad of the sheik where he found Ibn Jad awaiting him.
"Sit, Nasrany," invited the Beduin.
"What in hell do you want of me this time of night?" demanded Stimbol.
"I have been talking with Tarzan of the Apes," said Ibn Jad, "and because you are my friend and he is not I have sent for you to tell you what he plans for you. He has interfered in all my designs and is driving me from the country, but that is as nothing compared with what he intends for you."
"What in hell is he up to now?" demanded Stimbol. "He's always butting into some one else's business."
"Thou dost not like him?" asked Ibn Jad.
"Why should I?" and Stimbol applied a vile epithet to Tarzan.
"Thou wilt like him less when I tell thee," said Ibn Jad.
"Well, tell me."
"He says that thou hast slain thy companion, Blake," explained the sheik, "and for that Tarzan is going to kill thee on the morrow."
"Eh? What? Kill me?" demanded Stimbol. "Why he can't do it! What does he think he is—a Roman emperor?"
"Nevertheless he will do as he says," insisted Ibn Jad. "He is all powerful here. No one questions the acts of this great jungle sheik. Tomorrow he will kill thee."
"But—you won't let him, Ibn Jad! Surely, you won't let him?" Stimbol was already trembling with terror.
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," whispered 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 women'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 bad been erected for the ape-man.
But ahead of him ran Ateja to warn the man who had saved her lover from the fangs of el-adrea. She was almost at the beyt she had helped to erect for the ape-man when a figure stepped from another tent and clapping a palm across her mouth and an arm about her waist held her firmly.
"Where goest thou?" whispered a voice in her ear, a voice that she recognized at once as belonging to her uncle; but Tollog did not wait for a reply, he answered for her. "Thou wants to warn the Nasrany because he befriended thy lover! Go thee back to thy father's beyt. If he knew this he would slay thee. Go!" And he gave her a great shove in the direction from which she had come.
There was a nasty smile upon Tollog's lips as he thought how neatly he had foiled the girl, and he thanked Allah that chance had placed him in a position to intercept her before she had been able to ruin them all; and even as Tollog, the brother of the sheik, smiled in his beard, a hand reached out of the darkness behind him and seized him by the throat—fingers grasped him and dragged him away.
Trembling, bathed in cold sweat, grasping in tightly clenched fingers the hilt of a keen knife, Wilbur Stimbol crept through the darkness toward the tent of his victim.
Stimbol had been an irritable man, a bully and a coward; but he was no criminal. Every fiber of his being revolted at the thing he contemplated. He did not want to kill, but he was a cornered human rat and he thought that death stared him in the face, leaving open only this one way of escape.
As he entered the beyt of the ape-man he steeled himself to accomplish that for which he had come, and he was indeed a very dangerous, a very formidable man, as he crept to the side of the figure lying in the darkness, wrapped in an old burnous.
Chapter Fourteen
Sword and Buckler
AS THE sun touched the turrets of the castle of the Prince of Nimmr a youth rolled from between his blankets, rubbed his eyes and stretched. Then he reached over and shook another youth of about his own age who slept beside him.
"Awaken, Edward! Awaken, thou sluggard!" he cried.
Edward rolled over on his back and essayed to say "Eh?" and to yawn at the same time.