tention had been to
desert. The murder, Max felt sure, had not been premeditated; but he did
not believe that it was regretted.

"I will not go back to Touggourt," Sanda said, when he had described to
her the two plans.

"Why? Because you are thinking of me?" he asked.

"Partly that. But it would be as bad for me as for you, now, if you were
to be arrested as a deserter. And besides," Sanda went on hurriedly,
determined to show him it was for her sake more than his that she
objected, "I've suffered so much I couldn't go again along that Via
Dolorosa. I want to get away from the very thought of it. New scenes
will be better. How many miles must we journey to Omdurman and
Khartoum?"

"Nearly a thousand," Max confessed.

"More than we've come with our great caravan! It's not possible."

"It must be possible!" said Max. "We'll make it possible."

"Surely such a thing has never been done!"

"Maybe not, but we'll do it. I feel now that I have the strength of a
hundred men in myself."

"You haven't even the strength of one. We must stay here till you are
stronger." Yet she shivered and grew cold at the thought of staying on,
even with Max, close to the grave the men had dug for Stanton in the
sand.

"I shall be better travelling," Max urged. He would not tell Sanda, but
he felt it unsafe to stay long near Dardai with so few men. The sheikh
had been hospitable to Stanton, but things were different now. Ahmara
would tell about the money and the boxes and bales full of presents. The
temptation virtuously to punish those who were left, for the fate of the
explorer, would be too great, and the excuse too good.

"We shall have to get off after the heat of the day," Max insisted.
"I've lain here long enough, for, you see, I must be leader now for you.
I must talk to the men and tell them what we've decided."

"How _little_ we are in this great desert, to talk of 'deciding,'" the
girl exclaimed. "It is the desert that will decide. But--you will be
with me always ... as in my dream!"

"And mine," Max added.

Then followed day upon day of the desert dream. Some days were evil and
some were good, but none could ever be forgotten. The man and the girl
whose dreams had come true never spoke of the future, though waking or
sleeping the thought was seldom out of their minds.

"I _can't_ give her up now, whatever happens," Max said to himself
sometimes. Yet he did not see how he should be able, in justice to the
girl, to k