tephens, with the dragoman Mansoor, and the
wounded Soudanese rifleman. As they came together they saw that their
escort consisted of Tippy Tilly and the other old Egyptian soldiers.
Belmont rushed onwards to meet his wife, but Fardet stopped to grasp the
Colonel's hand.

"_Vive la France! Vivent les Anglais!_" he was yelling. "_Tout va
bien, n'est ce pas_, Colonel? Ah, _canaille! Vivent les croix et les
Chretiens!_" He was incoherent in his delight.

The Colonel, too, was as enthusiastic as his Anglo-Saxon standard
would permit. He could not gesticulate, but he laughed in the nervous,
crackling way which was his top-note of emotion.

"My dear boy, I am deuced glad to see you all again. I gave you up
for lost. Never was as pleased at anything in my life! How did you get
away?"

"It was all your doing."

"Mine?"

"Yes, my friend, and I have been quarrelling with you,--ungrateful
wretch that I am!"

"But how did I save you?"

"It was you who arranged with this excellent Tippy Tilly and the others
that they should have so much if they brought us alive into Egypt again.
They slipped away in the darkness and hid themselves in the grove. Then,
when we were left, they crept up with their rifles and shot the men who
were about to murder us. That cursed Moolah, I am sorry they shot him,
for I believe that I could have persuaded him to be a Christian. And
now, with your permission, I will hurry on and embrace Miss Adams, for
Belmont has his wife, and Stephens has Miss Sadie, so I think it is very
evident that the sympathy of Miss Adams is reserved for me."

A fortnight had passed away, and the special boat which had been
placed at the disposal of the rescued tourists was already far north of
Assiout. Next morning they would find themselves at Baliani, where
one takes the express for Cairo. It was, therefore, their last evening
together. Mrs. Shlesinger and her child who had escaped unhurt had
already been sent down from the frontier. Miss Adams had been very ill
after her privations, and this was the first time that she had been
allowed to come upon deck after dinner. She sat now in a lounge-chair,
thinner, sterner, and kindlier than ever, while Sadie stood beside her
and tucked the rugs around her shoulders. Mr. Stephens was carrying over
the coffee and placing it on the wicker-table beside them. On the other
side of the deck Belmont and his wife were seated together in silent
sympathy and contentment. Monsieur Farde