After that the professor sweeps the air in vain with his weapon. Men who
have met the terrors of the Algerian desert for years, fall down and
expire before he can hasten their exit from this vale of tears.

Really, it is wonderful--he never before knew the tenets of the
Mohammedan religion made its devotees so accommodating; they seem to
court dissolution in the longing for paradise, where the prophet
promises eternal happiness for all who die in battle.

It ends; even such obliging fellows as these do not need to be killed
more than a couple of times. Lady Ruth had covered her eyes with her
hands when the action began.

She is the daughter of a soldier race, and as brave as the majority of
her sex; still she shudders to gaze upon the taking of human life.

Perhaps, too, she anticipates the death of the valorous Briton, who has
hurled himself so impetuously into the breach, for under all ordinary
conditions his chances would seem to be small.

When the dreadful racket is over, when the shouts, shrieks, and report
of fire-arms die away, Lady Ruth uncovers her eyes.

She fully expects to see a slaughter-pen, with the valorous Sir Lionel
and Philander among the slain. As to the latter, there are no lack of
them, for they lie in every direction, and in every position the human
mind can conceive.

And here is the hero warrior rushing up to her, a smoking revolver in