to see everything, to see in spite of everything; rejoicing with a
kind of ineffable horror when we felt the shelf of basalt on which we
had taken refuge swaying beneath us from the battering impact of the
water. I believe that never for an instant did we think, so beautiful
it was, of wishing for the end of that gigantic nightmare.

Finally a ray of the sun shone through. Only then did we look at each
other.

Morhange held out his hand.

"Thank you," he said simply.

And he added with a smile:

"To be drowned in the very middle of the Sahara would have been
pretentious and ridiculous. You have saved us, thanks to your power of
decision, from this very paradoxical end."

Ah, that he had been thrown by a misstep of his camel and rolled to
his death in the midst of the flood! Then what followed would never
have happened. That is the thought that comes to me in hours of
weakness. But I have told you that I pull myself out of it quickly.
No, no, I do not regret it, I cannot regret it, that what happened did
happen.

* * * * *

Morhange left me to go into the little grotto, where Bou-Djema's
camels were now resting comfortably. I stayed alone, watching the