As night fell, the sheikh disappeared with his caravan. I couldn't remove the image of his most valuable cargo from my mind. It haunted me. Resigned to being alone for the night, I made my way to the ruins again. Hardly had I taken a few steps when an old hag came tottering by. She was bent with age and clothed in a purple robe. She wore a hood of the same color and carried a staff along with her. She was furious! Somebody had run away with her magic talisman and she was in search of the culprit.
She asked me of the talisman's whereabouts and asked me if I had seen anything unusual. Although the sheikh's caravan was on my mind, somehow, the two incidents didn't connect in my mind. So I replied in the negative. Besides, she didn't describe how the talisman looked like. How was I to know it was indeed the sheikh's emerald lady with the long finger-like toes?