While the Arabs were preparing breakfast, Edgar searched for a spot where the sheik could lie in shelter during the mid-day heat; for, hot as it was on the desert sands, the heat was fully as great on the bare rocks of the hills.  After some search he found a spot where two ledges of rock ran parallel to each other, with a passage of some six feet between them, on each side of which they rose perpendicularly some twelve feet in height.  The fissures ran nearly north and south, and therefore, except for an hour at noon, the bottom was entirely in shade.

It was within half a mile of the spot where they encamped for the night; and returning, the sheik was carried there at once, and was laid on the blanket.  The spears were found to be long enough to reach across at the top.  The blanket that had formed the hammock being unrolled, it formed a sort of awning that could, when the sun was high, be moved a little one way or the other, so as to keep him in the shade.  Learning from the sheik in which direction the tombs that he had spoken of were situated, Edgar started with Hassan, and after half an hour’s walking came upon them.  They were, for the most part, square-cut holes in the face of the perpendicular rock.  Some of them were only flanked by pilasters cut in the stone; others had more ornate designs.  All had originally been closed by great stone slabs.  These had long since been moved or broken up by treasure-seekers.  The plan of most of them was similar-a short passage, terminated by a chamber of from ten to twenty feet square.  Vestiges of the paintings that originally covered the walls could still be seen.  Choosing one of the larger tombs, Edgar aided Hassan to remove fragments of stones that projected above the dust and sand, which lay six inches deep over the floor.  Well satisfied, he returned to the sheik.

“We have found a good place,” he said.  “The air was quite cool in there, and the sand will make a much more comfortable bed than this bare rock.”

The sheik made no reply, but lay looking at him with an expression that puzzled him, and he was about to turn to Sidi to ask whether his father was worse, when the latter said, “While you have been away my son has been telling me all that you have done for him, and that it was you who saved his life as well as mine.  I am weak now, I cannot say what is in my heart, it is too full for words.”

“Don’t say any thing about it, sheik,” Edgar said earnestly.  “Did you not adopt me into your tribe?  Does not Sidi call me brother?  Have you not sheltered me in your tents when I had nowhere else to go?  Is it not natural then that I should do all in my power to repay these benefits, and to rescue you and my brother Sidi from the hands of your enemies?  I deem myself most fortunate that I have been enabled to do so, and, indeed, ran but little risk in either case.  It was a small thing to search for you among the dead, and to have you carried off; while, having found the disguise of a European, there was no risk of my being recognized as having fought against the French when I went to testify in favour of Sidi.  Save as to my own name I had need to go but little beyond the truth.  I had won Sidi’s gratitude by aiding him against two ruffians.  He had slain a man who was about to attack me, though that did not take place, as they supposed, at the time of the massacre of the European shopkeepers, but the main facts were true, and there was no fear that in the telling of them I should get myself into trouble.”

The sheik shook his head. “’Tis well to say so, my friend, and I suppose that it is the way with your people to make but little of their good actions.  It was not the risk you may have run.  Many men are brave, and we who charged that column of Franks, after those in front of us had been swept away by their cannon, have a right to say that we are not cowards; but you see the difference:  Sidi and I thought you dead, but beyond resolving to avenge you, we did nothing.  The idea that we might disguise ourselves, and, after the Franks had advanced, gone and searched the streets and found whether you were still living, never occurred to us, and I think that no Arab would have thought of it.

“But you had scarcely passed through the first danger of being discovered than you began to think of us.  You learnt that many Arabs had been killed when we poured out of the city, and that others had been taken prisoners.  Wounded yourself, you lose no moment in finding my two followers.  All night you search among the dead for me, and carry me off to a place of safety.  Then, without rest, without pause, you return to the city and begin to take measures to rescue Sidi.  He was in the citadel, strongly guarded by French troops.  There was but one way of succeeding.  You thought of that way.  You planned it all out.  You invented a likely story, which was yet very close to the truth.  You went into the midst of the men that you have been fighting against, and you so sustained the character that you had chosen, that none of the French officers suspected for a moment that you were aught but what you seemed, and so, listening to your pleading on his behalf, let him go free.  Well did I say, the other day, that though we might be beaten, I believed that you and my son would escape, for that Allah had clearly sent you to save him from danger, and that he would therefore assuredly preserve you both.”

“It is Allah, who is our God as well as yours, who is to be thanked, sheik, that all our lives have been preserved,” Edgar said reverently, “and that we are again united when so many have perished.”

In spite of the shade of the blanket overhead, Edgar found it tremendously hot in the middle of the day, but as soon as the sun had passed west, he was able to get some hours’ comfortable sleep.  A short time before sunset they started again and carried the sheik to the cave.  The two Arabs did this while Edgar and Sidi loitered behind pulling up the parched-up bushes that grew here and there among the rocks, and making them into faggots.  As soon, therefore, as the sheik was laid down the fire was lighted, giving a cheerful air to the dark chamber.  Ali and Hassan went down again and brought up the provisions, water, and bundles.  The air was cool and pleasant in the tomb, and a hearty meal was made by all but the sheik, who, however, not only drank a cup of broth, but ate some dates with something like an appetite.

“Now, sheik,” Edgar said, after he had put some more sticks upon the fire, “we can chat about our future plans.  I have been talking with Sidi.  It must be a fortnight or three weeks before you are fit to sit a horse again.  It is very fortunate, by the way, that you sent your favourite horse, as well as Sidi’s and mine, back by two of your followers from the Pyramids when you decided to enter the town; and that we rode other horses in that charge in Cairo.  It would have been a loss, indeed, if those noble steeds of ours had been all killed.”

“That was one of my first thoughts when I was able to think,” the sheik said.  “Next to my wife, my son, and you, I love Zeila, and it would have sorely spoiled my joy that we are reunited, had she fallen in the battle.  It was your advice that saved her life also.”

“My idea is,” Edgar went on, “that either Hassan or Ali shall go back to the town, get one of their horses, and ride to the oasis, where all your spare horses and some of your followers are.”

“I have thirty men there,” the sheik said.  “I thought it as well not to bring all, for had misfortune happened, the women and children would have been left without protectors; but there is surely no occasion for Hassan to go yet.  In three days he might be there, and be back in another three, and though I hope to mend quickly, surely I could not mount a horse in a week’s time.”

“That I quite see, sheik, but as your wife and the women are there also, I thought it well that he should start at once.  Two or three of your men may have escaped from that fight.  They would be sure to make for the oasis, and will doubtless report that all, save themselves, have been killed.  Your wife will be mourning for you and Sidi as dead, and it is for that reason that I would send one of the men at once with the good news.”

“How thoughtful you are, lad!  No gray-beard could think of things more than you do.  I had not once thought that the news might reach her; but, as you say, it may well be that two or three at least of my men may have escaped.  Ali shall start to-morrow at daybreak, but when he has given his message to my wife, what next is he to do?”

“I should say, sheik, that he should bid your men be at the Great Pyramid in twenty-one days from this, and that on the following morning you will join them there at daybreak.”

“I may be well enough before that,” the sheik said.

“That we cannot say for certain,” Edgar said; “’tis best that we should name a date when we may hope that you will be fit to ride long and far again if need be.  We know not what are the plans of the French, but ’tis like enough that though they may have granted pardon to the people of the city, Bonaparte will endeavour to strike some heavy blows at the Arabs.  He knows how terribly they harassed him on his march here, and that wheresoever his troops may move, they will again swarm round him.  He has overawed Cairo, and can safely leave a small garrison there if he marches away.  And he may well seek to overawe the Arabs by making expeditions against their oases, which he can now easily do, as his cavalry are all mounted on Egyptian horses, capable of supporting thirst and making long journeys, and he may think that by striking at your camping-places, cutting down your palm-trees, and filling up your wells, he may compel you to promise to cease from all attacks upon his troops.”

“He might certainly damage us greatly in that way,” the sheik agreed; “but few of his horses are equal to ours.  You may be sure that the tribes near Alexandria, who basely sold him horses, did not part with their best, while those the Franks took at Cairo are not accustomed to the desert, save, indeed, those of the Mamelukes, of whom there were few, for most of their horses were killed with their masters.  But were they even as well mounted as we are, they might indeed reach our oases and do terrible damage, as for ourselves, we could laugh at them, for they would have to carry far heavier weights.  It is not that the French soldiers are heavier than we are, but with their riding-boots, their accoutrements, their valises, and other matters, they would ride from forty to fifty pounds heavier than we should, and their horses, unaccustomed to such burdens, would soon tire.  Would it not be well to bid, say, four men, to come straight hither to act as a guard?”

“I think not, sheik; the fewer of us there are about here the better, and were we discovered, four men or forty would be useless.  We might defend the mouth of the tomb for a short time, but even were we to beat off every attack, it would be but a matter of hours before we were forced to surrender for want of water.  Hassan can start with Ali to-morrow morning, and bring the second horse back here; it will be very useful for bringing up water and provisions.  And now that Hassan has his peasant dress on, he would attract little attention were he noticed riding among the hills.  I will tell him to buy two more skins, larger than those we have.  The four will then bring up sufficient water to last us and the horse for three days at least, so that he will only have to make an occasional journey down to the village.  Indeed, there are several villages within a short distance of each other on the river bank, and by going sometimes to one and sometimes to another for food and water, he will not attract attention at all.”

“So be it,” the sheik said.  His voice now had weakened, and, after drinking some more broth, he composed himself for sleep-an example which was speedily imitated by the others.  Sidi gave Ali and Hassan the necessary instructions, and before they started, Edgar took the former apart and had a private conversation with him.

“It is possible, Ali, that the sheik’s wife will, when you arrive there, want to start at once to attend him.  If she does, do not try to dissuade her, it will be a great comfort to him to have her with him, and will aid his recovery.  I know that she is skilful in the dressing of wounds, and will be able to cook things such as he would like, far better than we could.  No one can guide her here but yourself.  Of course, when you are once fairly across the river, you will take off that long blue gown, and ride in your Arab dress, and she will ride with you in her own dress, until you get within a short distance of the river; beyond that, of course, you will again put the peasant’s dress on; and before you start to-day get such a dress also for her, and let her slip it on over her own.

“It were best that you did not approach the ferry until it is getting dark.  You would do well to bring a comrade to take the two horses back; Ayala could not use them.  One frequently sees women riding on donkeys, but for a peasant woman to be mounted on a horse would be unusual.  Besides, we should not know what to do with them here, and they would have to go down every day for water.  If you start at noon to-day from Cairo, you will be there on the afternoon of the third day, and if you start again next morning will be here on the sixth day.  I will light a fire a short distance from the front of the cave so as to act as a guide to you when you get into the rough ground.  If you are not here that night I shall know that she is not coming.  I shall say nothing about it to the sheik or Sidi; it is better that they should not be looking forward to it.  If she did not come they might be fearing that some misadventure had happened on the journey.  In any case, you understand that you are not to propose it to her, but are to remain altogether silent on the subject unless she herself insists on coming.”

Hassan returned with the horse carrying the four water-skins and some provisions, including a supply of coffee, just as darkness set in; he reported that Ali had started before noon.  The next six days passed quietly.  Hassan went down twice with the horse for water, fresh meat, fowls, and other provisions, and a supply of grain for the horse, which was stabled in the next tomb to that they occupied.  The sheik gained strength, slowly indeed but steadily.  At each meal he took a basin of broth prepared either from fresh meat or chicken, and to Edgar’s satisfaction his hands remained cool, and there were no signs of fever.  On the sixth day he was able to sit up, leaning against the wall of the chamber.

At dusk that evening Edgar strolled out, as he usually did, to enjoy the cool evening air.  He told Hassan to accompany him, and they soon plucked up some withered and dead bushes among those growing between the rocks.  These were piled some twenty yards on one side of the entrance to the tomb.  Then Hassan went into the chamber, picked up a piece of glowing charcoal out of the fire with which to light his pipe, placed it on the bowl, and after taking two or three draws, went out into the air.  The piece of charcoal was placed among some dried leaves and twigs and blown until a flame shot up.  Then some dried sticks, which had been collected for the purpose, were placed carefully on this, and the fire soon burned up.

“That will do, Hassan,” Edgar said.  “I don’t want a big blaze that can be seen a long distance away.  You sit here and feed it carefully, so as to keep up the flame not more than a foot or two in height.”

Hassan obeyed the orders.  Ali had told him on leaving that he might possibly return with the sheik’s wife, but that he was not to mention it to Sidi or the sheik himself.  Edgar walked up and down near the fire.  An hour later he heard voices below, and gave an exclamation of pleasure, and two or three minutes later Ali and Ayala appeared within the circle of light, the former leading the horse on which she was sitting.

“How is he?” she exclaimed, as she slipped from the saddle, and hurried forward to meet Edgar.

“He is getting on very well; he is gaining strength, and has had no fever.  I will lead you to him.  Hassan, you can put out that fire now, but bring some of the brands into the tomb; they will make a cheerful blaze.  Perhaps you had better do that before we go in.  If the sheik asks why you do it, say it is by my orders, and that I thought it would be more cheerful than the glow of the charcoal.

“He will not be a minute, Ayala, and were you to go in now you would scarce see him or he you.”

With the patient obedience of Arab women she stopped at once.

“Ali has told me,” she said, turning to him, “how much you have done for us, and how you saved the lives of both my husband and son.”

“I was fortunate in being able to do so,” he replied, “and that without the slightest risk to myself.”  Then changing the subject, he went on, “I thought that you would wish to come.”

“Certainly I should,” she said.  “My place is by his side.  And is Sidi well also?  And you-Ali said that you also were wounded?”

“Mine was a trifling business,” he said, “and Sidi’s not much worse.  We both suffered from loss of blood, which perhaps is a good thing, as we have had no fever, and though our wounds are somewhat sore, we have almost ceased to think of them.  There, I can see by the light that the fire is burning up inside.  Now we will go in.  Keep a little way behind me; it would startle him were you to go in suddenly.”

He walked into the tomb.

“Sheik,” he said, “here is a friend come to see you.”

“A friend!” the sheik repeated in surprise.  “Who is it?”

“She has ridden all the way from the oasis, sheik.  I was sure she would come.  She is your wife!” and Ayala ran forward and threw herself upon her knees by the side of the sheik.  Edgar went out with Hassan, and left them and Sidi together.

Ayala now took the entire charge of the sheik.  Edgar went down frequently to one or other of the villages on the river bank, partly for change and exercise, partly to learn what he was doing at Cairo.  He heard that, under the direction of French engineers, the greater portion of the population of Cairo were employed in building forts on elevated positions round the town, where the guns would completely dominate the city, that it was said that the Sultan had declared war with France, and that an army from Syria had advanced and had established itself at a fort in the desert half-way between the frontier of Syria and Egypt.

“I made sure,” he said, after talking the news over with the shiek and Sidi, “that the Sultan would be driven to declare war against the French.  It would have been impossible for him to have allowed the French permanently to establish themselves as masters of his province of Egypt.  Even if he himself had been willing to suffer it, the whole Moslem population would have risen against him.  No doubt the news of the destruction of the French fleet decided him to take this step.  Now that no more reinforcements can reach them here, he may well consider that his army is capable of annihilating them.  The Turks are good soldiers-that is to say, they have always shown themselves capable of fighting desperately when well led.

“Unfortunately, that is not likely to be the case.  The pashas have no experience in war, while the French have the best generals in Europe.  The Turks are badly disciplined, while the French are veteran soldiers with perfect confidence in themselves and in their leaders.  Still, in any case, this will greatly increase Napoleon’s difficulties; he will have to send the greater portion of his army to meet the Turks, at the same time will have to keep Egypt in subjection.  The British government will be blind if they do not see that the opportunity is a grand one for striking a blow at the French, and I should think that they would ere long send an army out here, though they may not do so unless they see that the Turks alone can do nothing against them.”

Later Edgar heard that columns of French cavalry had gone out into the desert and had driven away the bodies of Arabs that had assembled again a few miles off the Nile.  They had, however, been unable to gain any advantages over them, as the Arabs had always fallen back upon their approach, and the French, finding pursuit useless, had returned to the city.  Once or twice a few Arabs had been killed when the cavalry had been so closely followed by a battery of artillery that the Arabs were unaware that the French had guns with them, and had therefore contented themselves with keeping beyond carbine shot, their first intimation of their presence having been when the cavalry rode rapidly to the right and left, leaving the guns exposed.

Even then their loss had been slight, for the slight undulations of the desert afforded shelter, and riding at full speed along some hollow they were almost out of range before the artillery could limber up after the first discharge of their guns and advance to a position whence they could see their flying foes.

By the end of the three weeks the sheik was strong enough to walk up and down for some time in front of the tomb, and he declared himself quite able to make the journey.  Edgar had some doubt on the subject, but he knew that the Arabs were so thoroughly at home on their horses that they scarcely felt the slightest inconvenience after the longest day’s journey, and Zeila’s pace was so easy and smooth that he hoped the chief might not suffer from it.

At two o’clock on the morning of the day when the band would be awaiting them at the Pyramids the party started.  All, save the sheik, were in their peasant disguises.  He was in his Arab dress, disdaining, however great the occasion, to put on the dress of a peasant.  He wore, however, a dark burnoose which completely covered his figure.  Edgar and Sidi had, the day before, carefully examined the face of the hill, and had found a track by which peasants drove up their goats to pasture among the hills at the time when the shrubs were sufficiently fresh and green for them to browse.  The chief mounted the horse with an exclamation of pleasure at finding himself again in the saddle.  The two lads led the way a pace or two in front of the horse.  Ayala walked by the side of her husband.  Hassan and Ali followed behind with the second horse.

The descent required great care.  Although Sidi carried a torch, it took them upwards of an hour to get to the foot of the hills.  When on the level ground Ayala was assisted to mount Ali’s horse, and they went more briskly along.  There was, however, no occasion for haste, for the ferry was but four miles away, and the boat would not cross until dawn.  Ali, however, had gone down on the previous day and had bargained with the ferryman to be ready, as soon as it was light, to take over a party who had a long journey to make.  Dawn was just breaking as they reached the banks of the river.  A few moments later the ferryman arrived.  He looked surprised at seeing an Arab with four peasants, but made no remark; he was to be well paid for getting up two hours earlier than usual, and it was no business of his whether an Arab crossed or not.  The sheik, his wife, and the two lads first got on board, then Ali and Hassan led the horses and stood by their side as the boat pushed out from the shore.  In ten minutes they were across.  As soon as they landed, the sheik and Ayala mounted and set off at an amble-a pace between a walk and a trot, the two legs on each side moving together.  This pace is in general use among horses in Egypt and Turkey, and is as comfortable and easy as a walk.

The sun had risen half an hour when they neared the Pyramid.  As soon as they were seen a party of thirty horsemen dashed out and rode towards them at full gallop, brandishing their spears or guns over their heads, and as they approached uttering shouts of welcome.  Sidi and the two Arabs had, like Ayala, taken off their peasant smocks and caps, and had wound their turbans round their heads as soon as they had landed.  To them the disguise was very repugnant, for the Arabs looked down with supreme contempt upon the fellah population of Egypt.  Edgar had followed their example, not from any dislike to the dress, but because he thought that the sheik would prefer rejoining his followers, with the whole party dressed in Arab costume.

There was no doubting the genuineness of the welcome that the Beni Ouafy gave their chief.  Until Ali had arrived with news of their escape, they, like his wife, had deemed that he and his son had fallen, and there was deep emotion in their faces as they circled round and round the little party, discharging their guns, tossing their spears in the air, catching them as they fell, and shouting their welcome.  The sheik and those with him fired off their guns as the party came up, and the sheik, in spite of his efforts to maintain the impassive expression of his face, was evidently much moved.  As soon as the demonstration ceased he started again without a word.  The others followed his example, and they rode in a body until they reached the Pyramids, when he dismounted.  In an instant all were off their horses and gathered round him.

“My brothers,” he said, “I thank you for my welcome.  It gladdens my heart to be among you again, but I cannot forget that many saddles have been emptied, that many of our women are widows and their children fatherless.  I rode away with fifty men.  I hear that but ten, and they all wounded, returned to your tents.  Two, Ali and Hassan, remained with the horses; the rest met their death with their face to the foe, dying as a Moslem should do in defence of his faith and his country.  But the loss to us is a grievous one; half of our fighting strength is gone.  You have heard from Ali that had it not been for this brave young friend, whom you regard as one of yourselves, since he is my son’s adopted brother, both I and my son would have died.  Later I will tell you how he sought for and carried me senseless from among the dead upon the field of battle, and how he ventured into the council of the Franks and by stratagem persuaded them to free my son, who was one of the Arab prisoners.

“It will be a tale to tell your children how this English lad, himself wounded, saved the lives of the sheik of your tribe and his son.  But this is no time for telling it to you in full now.  See, there is a great dust rising by the river; it is probably the cavalry of the Franks, with perhaps some guns.  They are far away yet, but it will not be long before they are here.  I have resolved to journey quietly back to our home.  I feel that it will be some time ere I shall be fit to ride fast and far.  My wife will, of course, accompany me.  I will take Ali and Hassan and two others.  We shall travel quietly and slowly, and shall keep well out from the river, so as to run no risk of falling in with any fresh party.  The rest of you will ride back to fetch the women and children, with the camels and other animals, and to warn my brother that bodies of French cavalry are moving about, devastating the oases, cutting down palm-trees, and filling up wells.  I should advise him, for the sake of the tribe, to hasten to make his submission, which, as he did not take part in the rising in Cairo, he may well be able to do, though they will perhaps send him into that town, and hold him as a hostage for his people.  Now bring out the horses.”

Zeila was first brought up, and her delight was as great as that of the sheik at the meeting, but there was no time for prolonged endearments.  After a few loving words to the horse the sheik mounted.  Ayala, who was to ride behind him, was lifted to her seat, Ali and Hassan, with two men the sheik picked out, sprang into their saddles, and the party started north.  Then Sidi and Edgar mounted their own steeds and set out with the rest towards the south-west.  By this time the French were within a mile of them, and it could be made out that they were a body of some fifteen hundred cavalry, who were, as far as could be seen, unaccompanied by guns.

“’Tis probable that they are going a long distance,” Edgar said, “and that the guns would much delay them, for it is hard work indeed dragging them over the sands.”

The French had already experienced that they had no chance of overtaking the Arabs, and the cavalry accordingly paid no attention to so small a party, but continued their journey at a trot.  After riding for four or five miles they were left far behind by the tribesmen, but the dust-cloud showed their position.

“They are coming exactly the way that we are,” Sidi said, looking back; “it may be that they are bound for my uncle’s oasis.”

“It would be as well to find that out, Sidi.  Do you give me two of your best mounted men and then ride straight on with the others.  We will remain here till they approach, and then ride on for another eight or ten miles, still keeping them in sight.  They will assuredly camp at the wells of Orab if they are making for the oasis.  These are about twenty miles from the Nile, and they will go no further to-day, for it is as much again before they come to another well.  When we have with certainty made out that they are making for the wells of Orab, we will follow you at full speed, but do not wait for us, and, save to give your horses a drink, do not draw rein till you reach your people and deliver your father’s message.  I don’t suppose that I shall overtake you before you get there, but I shall not be long after you, and my report may decide him what he had best do.”

Sidi at once picked out two men who were, he knew, among the best mounted of the tribe, and told them to remain with Edgar and act under his orders.  Then at a much more rapid pace than before he pursued his journey.  Edgar and his men dismounted, sitting down on the sands until the French were again within a mile of them, then they cantered on ahead.  The French had followed so exactly the line along which the party had ridden that Edgar felt quite convinced that they were making for the wells.  However, he kept at the same distance ahead of them until the Arabs told him that they were now within five miles of the water.

“Then we will go on,” he said.  “It is certain now that they are going there, and as you say there are no camping grounds within many miles of the wells, I think it is certain that they are bound for the oasis of the Beni Ouafy.”

They now rode at full speed to the wells.  Here for a quarter of an hour they halted, refilled their water-skins, gave the horses a drink and a handful of dried dates, eat a few themselves, and then started on their long ride.  Had not Edgar had perfect confidence in the Arabs’ knowledge of the country he would have felt uneasy, as hour after hour they rode across wastes of sand without, so far as he could see, any landmark whatever to guide their course.  He remarked this to them.  Both smiled.

“You Franks can make your way over the sea when there is nothing whatever to guide you,” one of the men said; “it would be strange if we could not do the same over the land that we have traversed many times before.”

“At sea they have a compass with a needle that points always to the north, so that they know in what direction they are going.”

“We have the sun,” one of the Arabs answered; “but even without that we could find our way, and do so even on the darkest night.  The horses know the way as well as we do.  When they have once journeyed over a track they never forget it, and even did they swerve a little it would not matter, for they can smell water miles away, and would always, if unguided, make for it.”

At ten in the evening Edgar rode into the Bedouins’ encampment, having passed over eighty miles since leaving the Pyramid.  Sidi’s party had arrived there half an hour earlier, and he found that his friend was now in the tent of the sheik.  Edgar went there at once, and Sidi introduced him to his uncle, who was some years older than his father.

“I am rejoiced to see you,” the sheik said gravely.  “I heard how you had before befriended Sidi, and the messenger who arrived here told us how you had saved the lives of my brother and nephew, and I wanted to see your face.

“Truly you are young, indeed, to have done such wonderful deeds, and to have so much wisdom, as well as courage.  Sidi tells me that some fifteen hundred of the Frankish cavalry are riding hither.”

“I think that there can be no doubt of it,” Edgar replied.  “Certainly they have gone to the wells of Orab.  We left them but a short distance from it.  They will camp there to-night.  They may, for aught I know, change their direction to-morrow, but in any case it will be three days before they are here.  They would not journey more than twenty miles a day.”

“They are too strong for us to fight,” the sheik said.  “I was at the battle near Cairo, though, as we arrived late, and did not know at what point my brother’s men were gathered, I did not join them, but when all was over rode off with Mourad and his Mamelukes.  I can put but six hundred horsemen in the field at short notice; though, had I a week’s time, I could call up another four hundred, who are encamped at some wells far away to the west.  But even were they here I could not venture to engage in open fight with fifteen hundred Franks.

“I have given orders that at daybreak the tents shall be struck, and all the women and children, with the baggage and as many bunches of dates as the camels can carry, shall start at once for the wells of Azim, seventy miles away.  It is a long journey, and there is no water by the way, so there is no fear of the French following.  There are already a hundred of my tents there, for although this oasis is a large one, being nigh eight miles long and two wide, it is not large enough for the whole of my people.  The one at Azim is smaller, but it will support us for a time; and there is an abundance of water for the camels, which number twelve hundred, and the sheep and goats, of which there are about two thousand.  A hundred of my men will ride with them as a guard, and to drive the animals.

“With the others I shall, if the Franks do damage here, harass them on their retreat, and by dashing among them at night will do them such harm that they may regret the day that they came hither.  Sidi will start in the morning with the women and camels of his father’s branch of the tribe.  I shall send in the morning two horsemen with a white flag to meet the Franks, and to tell them, in my name, that none of my followers have aught to do with the affair in Cairo, and that I desire to live in peace with them.  Upon their return I shall know what to do.”

An Arab woman now brought in refreshments, consisting of a pillau and sherbet, after which coffee was handed round, and Sidi and Edgar threw themselves down on heaps of blankets for a few hours’ sleep.  As soon as day broke, the encampment was a scene of bustle and confusion.  The women pulled down the tents, rolled up the blankets composing them, and fastened the poles in bundles.  Numbers of men scattered to cut bunches of dates, and of these huge piles were collected.  Three hours later the camels were brought up, and men and women alike employed in loading them.  This occupied over an hour.  As soon as it was completed, the women and children took their places on the top of the burdens, and the camels at once filed off, three abreast.

A party with the sheep, goats, and spare horses had started as soon as it was light.  The rest of the escort scattered themselves along on each side of the long column of camels.  Sidi’s party left at the same hour.  The sheik up to that time had been engaged in superintending the arrangements for shifting camp, and asked Sidi and Edgar to stop behind for an hour or two in order that he might hear a full account of the events at Cairo.  When the story was finished they partook of a meal, and then, after saying adieu, mounted and rode off, and in an hour’s time overtook the slow-moving cavalcade.  Six days’ travel took them to their old camping-ground, where the sheik, with his little party, had arrived three days previously.