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rs shone in the eastern sky and the afterglow flushed the cliffs； pale gray ghosts of smoke； swaying in the evening breeze； rose from the cooking fires。
We were met at the door by Mahira； whose scowl made her look even more like a medieval witch。
〃It is high time you came。 What did you do to my husband？〃
〃What do you mean？〃 I asked。
She hurried us through the house； talking all the while。 〃It was the medicine you gave him。 At first he was better； but this morning 。 。 。〃 She flung open the door of the old man's room。 〃See for yourself。 He has been like this all day。〃
The lamp she carried showed the form on the bed。 Yusuf was twisting and twitching and talking to himself … or rather； to Someone else … repeating the same words over and over。 〃Lead us in the right way of those to whom you have shown mercy 。 。 。〃
〃He's delirious；〃 Nefret whispered； her eyes shining with pity。 〃What did you give him； Mother？〃
〃Sugar water。 It is not delirium； but nervous excitability。 Speak to him； Emerson。〃
Emerson hesitated for only a moment。 Like another； he is not above quoting Scripture for his own purposes。 His sonorous voice rolled out in the words of the fathah； the first sureh of the Koran； from which Yusuf had quoted。 〃In the name of God； the merciful and gracious。 Praise be to God； the Lord of the Worlds。〃
Yusuf sat up with a galvanic start。 His wild eyes gleamed like those of an animal。 〃So；〃 he said。 〃It is you； Father of Curses。 Have you e to punish me because my silence might have caused your death and that of the Sitt Hakim？〃
〃Good Gad； no；〃 exclaimed Emerson； shocked into English。
〃The Father of Curses is also merciful and gracious；〃 I explained； hoping this did not sound blasphemous。 〃We are here to help you … and Jamil； if we can。 Where is he？〃
〃Is it the truth？ It is the truth； you do not lie。 You do not seek his life？〃
We had to listen to quite a lot of this sort of thing and repeat the same reassurances several times。 In psychological terms it was quite therapeutic for Yusuf； though rather tiresome for us。 My diagnosis had been correct； his indisposition was not physical but mental； and the news of Jamil's latest assault on us； which he had undoubtedly heard that morning； had left him torn between loyalty and affection； unable to decide what to do。
〃I will take you to him；〃 Yusuf quavered。 〃We meet； at different times； in the cemetery near the mosque。 He will be there tonight； when the moon rises。〃
〃Abdullah's tomb；〃 I said。 〃Praying at that holy place was an excuse for meeting your son？〃
My resentment must have shown in my voice。 The old man shrank back。 〃It was not an excuse。 I prayed there。 That my cousin Abdullah would forgive me and ask God to forgive me。〃
He had ignored Jumana as if she were invisible。 This did not seem the proper time for a little lecture on the subject of forgiving one's daughter。
The cemetery was on the north side of the hill； on a space of level ground。 Over the cliff floated a silver orb； flooding the landscape with light。 Abdullah's monument shone like snow。
On the edge of the cemetery； still in the shadow of the hill； Yusuf stopped。 〃Let me go ahead。 Let me talk to him。 I will tell him he must give himself up。〃
〃Go on then；〃 said Emerson。
He waited until the old man was out of earshot before muttering； 〃I don't share Yusuf's confidence in his power of persuasion。 Peabody； give me that pistol of yours … I know you have it； so don't pretend you don't。〃
I did not hesitate to do so。 I had been practicing with the confounded weapon for years without attaining the degree of skill Emerson possesses。
〃No；〃 Jumana whispered。 〃Please； you said you would not kill him。〃
〃Couldn't kill a rabbit with this thing；〃 said Emerson contemptuously。 〃If he bolts； a few warning shots should stop him。 Worst es to worst； I'll shoot him in the leg。〃
Yusuf made no attempt to conceal himself。 Standing full in the moonlight several yards from the tomb； he called out； 〃It is I； Jamil； your father。 e out and speak with me。〃
Though he spoke softly； we heard every word。 The cemetery was silent and deserted。 Few people came there at any time； and none came after nightfall。 It was one of the safest places Jamil could have chosen。
After a moment the boy emerged from the entrance to the tomb。 〃Are you afraid to e closer； my father？ The spirits of the dead do not trouble the living。〃
He was in Egyptian clothing； a dark robe and carelessly wound turban。 His face was the image of his sister's now that he had shaved off his mustache； he looked very young and very harmless。 But there was a knife thrust through his sash； and in his right hand he carried a long stick。
〃The spirit of my revered cousin Abdullah troubles me；〃 the old man retorted。 〃We have dishonored him； Jamil； but it is not too late to seek forgiveness。 e with me to the Father of Curses； who will help you。〃
Jamil's pretty face twisted into a grimace of pure hate。 His head turned from side to side； his eyes searching every shadow。 Whether he saw us or only deduced our presence I will never know； but he raised the stick to his shoulder； holding it as one might hold a rifle。 It was a rifle … Yusuf's antique weapon； his most prized possession。
Yusuf cried out。 〃No； Jamil！ You said you would not fire it unless one attacked you。 Put it down。〃
Emerson stepped out into the moonlight。 〃Drop it； Jamil；〃 he called。 〃Yusuf； get away from him。〃
Aiming my pistol at the ground in front of Jamil； he took a long step forward。 If he meant to say more or do more； he did not have the chance。 A loud explosion rent the air and the darkness was reddened by fire。 Somewhat belatedly I tried to fling myself in front of Nefret。
〃Dear God；〃 Ramses whispered。 〃The damned gun exploded。 I was afraid it would someday； he must be …〃
Emerson was running toward the crumpled form。 By the time we reached Jamil there were two crumpled forms。 Yusuf had bent over his son； shrieked； and dropped like a stone。
Jamil was still alive。 When I saw the ruin that remained of his face I could only pray he would not live long。 His one remaining eye rolled from side to side and focused。 Sounds whistled through his broken teeth。
〃Jumana。 Sister。 Is our father …〃
After one horrified look at Jamil； Nefret had known there was nothing she could do。 Kneeling by the old man； her hand on his bared breast； she said； 〃It is his heart。 We must get him to the house。〃
〃Heart；〃 Jamil said faintly。 〃I killed him。 My father。 Sister … listen … the tomb …〃
Jumana leaned closer。 Shock had deprived her even of tears。 〃Do you want to tell me where it is？ Speak； then； and go to God having done that last kindness。〃
〃Kindness。〃 I think he was trying to laugh。 It was a dreadful sound； bubbling with blood。 Then he said； with a last burst of strength； 〃The fools。 It was there； before their eyes。 In the hand of the god。〃
Yusuf lived only long enough to take the hand of his daughter （placed in his by me） and murmur a few unintelligible words。 A sentimentalist might say he had died of a broken heart。 In scientific terms he had succumbed to the same heart ailment from which Abdullah had suffered in his last years。 We left Ramses to