simplicity, "but we must stop for a moment, because it is a
sign--perhaps it is a miracle. We must see what is at the end of
the road of sand; it may be a bridge built across the gulf by
God."

"So long as you gratify my query," said Turnbull, laughing and
letting back his blade into the sheath, "I do not care for what
reason you choose to stop."

They clambered down the rocky peninsula and trudged along the
sandy isthmus with the plodding resolution of men who seemed
almost to have made up their minds to be wanderers on the face of
the earth. Despite Turnbull's air of scientific eagerness, he was
really the less impatient of the two; and the Highlander went on
well ahead of him with passionate strides. By the time they had
walked for about half an hour in the ups and downs of those
dreary sands, the distance between the two had lengthened and
MacIan was only a tall figure silhouetted for an instant upon the
crest of some sand-dune and then disappearing behind it. This
rather increased the Robinson Crusoe feeling in Mr. Turnbull, and
he looked about almost disconsolately for some sign of life. What
sort of life he expected it to be if it appeared, he did not very
clearly know. He has since confessed that he thinks that in his
subconsciousness he expected an alligator.

The first sign of life that he did see, however, was something
more extraordinary than the largest alligator. It was nothing
less than the notorious Mr. Evan MacIan coming bounding back
across the sand-heaps breathless, without his cap and keeping the
sword in his hand only by a habit now quite hardened.