The Arabs were firing their rifles as a welcome to their friends, and
the others as they trotted their camels across the open returned the
salutes and waved their rifles and lances in the air. They were a
smaller band than the first one--not more than thirty--but dressed in
the same red headgear and patched jibbehs. One of them carried a small
white banner with a scarlet text scrawled across it. But there was
something there which drew the eyes and the thoughts of the tourists
away from everything else. The same fear gripped at each of their
hearts, and the same impulse kept each of them silent. They stared at a
swaying white figure half seen amidst the ranks of the desert warriors.

"What's that they have in the middle of them?" cried Stephens at last.
"Look, Miss Adams! Surely it is a woman!"

There was something there upon a camel, but it was difficult to catch a
glimpse of it. And then suddenly, as the two bodies met, the riders
opened out, and they saw it plainly.

"It's a white woman!"

"The steamer has been taken!"

Belmont gave a cry that sounded high above everything.

"Norah, darling," he shouted, "keep your heart up! I'm here, and it is
all well!"