f her aunt, her
aunt thought of Sadie, the men thought of the women, Belmont thought of
his wife,--and then he thought of something else also, and he kicked his
camel's shoulder with his heel until he found himself upon the near side
of Miss Adams.

"I've got something for you here," he whispered. "We may be separated
soon, so it is as well to make our arrangements."

"Separated!" wailed Miss Adams.

"Don't speak loud, for that infernal Mansoor may give us away again.
I hope it won't be so, but it might. We must be prepared for the worst.
For example, they might determine to get rid of us men and to keep you."

Miss Adams shuddered.

"What am I to do? For God's sake, tell me what I am to do, Mr. Belmont!
I am an old woman. I have had my day. I could stand it if it was only
myself. But Sadie--I am clean crazed when I think of her. There's her
mother waiting at home, and I----" She clasped her thin hands together
in the agony of her thoughts.

"Put your hand out under your dust-cloak," said Belmont, sidling his
camel up against hers. "Don't miss your grip of it. There! Now hide it
in your dress, and you'll always have a key to unlock any door."

[Illustration: Don't miss your grip of it p111]

Miss Adams felt what it was which he had slipped into her hand, and she
looked at him for a moment in bewilderment. Then she pursed up her
lips and shook her stern, brown face in disapproval. But she pushed the
little pistol into its hiding-place, all the same, and she rode with her
thoughts in a whirl. Could this indeed be she, Eliza Adams, of Boston,
whose narrow, happy life had oscillated between the comfortable house in
Commonwealth Avenue and the Tremont Presbyterian Church? Here she was,
hunched upon a camel, with her hand upon the butt of a pistol, and
her mind weighing the justifications of murder. Oh, life, sly, sleek,
treacherous life, how are we ever to trust you? Show us your worst and
we can face it, but it is when you are sweetest and smoothest that we
have most to fear from you.

"At the worst, Miss Sadie, it will only be a question of ransom," said
Stephens, arguing against his own convictions. "Besides, we are still
close to Egypt, far away from the Dervish country. There is sure to be
an energetic pursuit. You must try not to lose your courage, and to hope
for the best."

"No, I am not scared, Mr. Stephens," said Sadie, turning towards him
a blanched face which belied her words. "We're all in God's hand