s, and
surely He won't be cruel to us. It is easy to talk about trusting Him
when things are going well, but now is the real test. If He's up there
behind that blue heaven----"

"He is," said a voice behind them, and they found that the Birmingham
clergyman had joined the party. His tied hands clutched on to his
Makloofa saddle, and his fat body swayed dangerously from side to side
with every stride of the camel. His wounded leg was oozing with blood
and clotted with flies, and the burning desert sun beat down upon his
bare head, for he had lost both hat and umbrella in the scuffle. A
rising fever flecked his large, white cheeks with a touch of colour, and
brought a light into his brown ox-eyes. He had always seemed a somewhat
gross and vulgar person to his fellow-travellers. Now, this bitter
healing draught of sorrow had transformed him. He was purified,
spiritualised, exalted. He had become so calmly strong that he made the
others feel stronger as they looked upon him. He spoke of life and of
death, of the present, and their hopes of the future; and the black
cloud of their misery began to show a golden rift or two. Cecil
Brown shrugged his shoulders, for he could not change in an hour the
convictions of his life; but the others, even Fardet, the Frenchman,
were touched and strengthened. They all took off their hats when he
prayed. Then the Colonel made a turban out of his red silk cummerbund,
and insisted that Mr. Stuart should wear it. With his homely dress and
gorgeous head-gear, he looked like a man who has dressed up to amuse the
children.

And now the dull, ceaseless, insufferable torment of thirst was added to
the aching weariness which came from the motion of the camels. The sun
glared down upon them, and then up again from the yellow sand, and the
great plain shimmered and glowed until they felt as if they were riding
over a cooling sheet of molten metal. Their lips were parched and dried,
and their tongues like tags of leather. They lisped curiously in their
speech, for it was only the vowel sounds which would come without an
effort. Miss Adams's chin had dropped upon her chest, and her great hat
concealed her face.

"Auntie will faint if she does not get water," said Sadie. "Oh, Mr.
Stephens, is there nothing we could do?"

The Dervishes riding near were all Baggara with the exception of
one negro,--an uncouth fellow with a face pitted with smallpox. His
expression seemed good-natured when compared wit