here," he said, as he rose to his feet. "Now, let your arms, your
legs and your head hang limply. Remember that you are dead."

A moment later the man walked out into the camp, the body of the woman
across his shoulder.

A thorn boma had been thrown up about the camp, to discourage the
bolder of the hungry carnivora. A couple of sentries paced to and fro
in the light of a fire which they kept burning brightly. The nearer of
these looked up in surprise as he saw Werper approaching.

"Who are you?" he cried. "What have you there?"

Werper raised the hood of his burnoose that the fellow might see his
face.

"This is the body of the woman," he explained. "Mohammed Beyd has
asked me to take it into the jungle, for he cannot bear to look upon
the face of her whom he loved, and whom necessity compelled him to
slay. He suffers greatly--he is inconsolable. It was with difficulty
that I prevented him taking his own life."

Across the speaker's shoulder, limp and frightened, the girl waited for
the Arab's reply. He would laugh at this preposterous story; of that
she was sure. In an instant he would unmask the deception that M.
Frecoult was attempting to practice upon him, and they would both be
lost. She tried to plan how best she might aid her would-be rescuer in
the fight which must most certainly follow within a moment or two.

Then she heard the voice of the Arab as he replied to M. Frecoult.

"Are you going alone, or do you wish me to awaken someone to accompany
you?" he asked, and his tone denoted not the least surprise that
Mohammed Beyd had suddenly discovered such remarkably sensitive
characteristics.

"I shall go alone," replied Werper, and he passed on and out through
the narrow opening in the boma, by which the sentry stood.

A moment later he had entered among the boles of the trees with his
burden, and when safely hidden from the sentry's view lowered the girl
to her feet, with a low, "sh-sh," when she would have spoken.

Then he led her a little farther into the forest, halted beneath a
large tree with spreading branches, buckled a cartridge belt and
revolver about her waist, and assisted her to clamber into the lower
branches.

"Tomorrow," he whispered, "as soon as I can elude them, I will return
for you. Be brave, Lady Greystoke--we may yet escape."

"Thank you," she replied in a low tone. "You have been very kind, and
very brave."

Werper did not reply, and the darkness of the night