"He seems to be in a somewhat better manner than before. He said that
if he had more water you should have it, but that he is himself short in
supply. He said that to-morrow we shall come to the wells of Selimah,
and everybody shall have plenty--and the camels too."

"Did he say how long we stopped here?"

"Very little rest, he said, and then forward! Oh, Mr. Belmont--"

"Hold your tongue!" snapped the Irishman, and began once more to count
times and distances. If it all worked out as he expected, if his wife
had insisted upon the indolent reis giving an instant alarm at Halfa,
then the pursuers should be already upon their track. The Camel Corps
or the Egyptian Horse would travel by moonlight better and faster than
in the day-time. He knew that it was the custom at Halfa to keep at
least a squadron of them all ready to start at any instant. He had
dined at the mess, and the officers had told him how quickly they could
take the field. They had shown him the water-tanks and the food beside
each of the beasts, and he had admired the completeness of the
arrangements, with little thought as to what it might mean to him in the
future. It would be at least an hour before they would all get started
again from their present halting-place. That would be a clear hour
gained. Perhaps by next morning--

And then, suddenly, his thoughts were terribly interrupted.
The Colonel, raving like a madman, appeared upon the crest of the
nearest slope, with an Arab hanging on to each of his wrists. His face
was purple with rage and excitement, and he tugged and bent and writhed
in his furious efforts to get free. "You cursed murderers!" he
shrieked, and then, seeing the others in front of him, "Belmont," he