s it approached. The Arabs were caught between two fires.

"By Jove!" cried the Colonel. "See that!"

The camels of the Dervishes had all knelt down simultaneously, and the
men had sprung from their backs. In front of them was a tall, stately
figure, who could only be the Emir Wad Ibrahim. They saw him kneel for
an instant in prayer. Then he rose, and taking something from his
saddle he placed it very deliberately upon the sand and stood upon it.

"Good man!" cried the Colonel. "He is standing upon his sheepskin."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Stuart.

"Every Arab has a sheepskin upon his saddle. When he recognises that
his position is perfectly hopeless, and yet is determined to fight to
the death, he takes his sheepskin off and stands upon it until he dies.
See, they are all upon their sheepskins. They will neither give nor
take quarter now."

The drama beneath them was rapidly approaching its climax. The Halfa
Corps was well up, and a ring of smoke and flame surrounded the clump of
kneeling Dervishes, who answered it as best they could. Many of them
were already down, but the rest loaded and fired with the unflinching
courage which has always made them worthy antagonists. A dozen
khaki-dressed figures upon the sand showed that it was no bloodless
victory for the Egyptians. But now there was a stirring bugle call from
the Sarras men, and another answered it from the Halfa Corps.
Their camels were down also, and the men had formed up into a single,
long, curved line. One last volley, and they were charging inwards with
the wild inspiriting yell which the blacks had brought with them from
their central African wilds. For a minute there was a mad vortex of
rushing figures, rifle butts rising and falling, spear-heads gleaming
and darting among the rolling dust cloud. Then the bugle rang out once
more, the Egyptians fell back and formed up with the quick precision of
highly disciplined troops, and there in the centre, each upon his
sheepskin, lay the gallant barbarian and his raiders. The nineteenth
century had been revenged upon the seventh.

The three women had stared horror-stricken and yet fascinated at the
stirring scene before them. Now Sadie and her aunt were sobbing
together. The Colonel had turned to them with some cheering words when
his eyes fell upon the face of Mrs. Belmont. It was as white and set as
if it were carved from ivory, and her large grey eyes were fixed as if
she were