"And you surely do know?" I insisted, with a courage strange to me.

"Yes," she answered, but her eyes fell before my eagerness; "you are
not one who has yet learned to lie, even to women. 'T is a relief to
know there are such men still in the world."

We had come to a full halt by this time.

"Do you have any idea where we may be?" she asked, peering anxiously
about, and perhaps glad to change the tone of our conversation. "I
cannot note a landmark of any kind. These sand-hills seem all alike."

"I believe we have kept to the southward, for we have merely drifted
with the storm; but I confess my sole guidance has been the direction
of the wind, as these sand-lanes are most confusing. If there were the
slightest shelter at hand, I should insist upon your waiting until the
rain was over."

"No, it is better to go on. I am now wet to the skin, and shall be
warmer moving than resting on this damp sand."

We must have been moving for an hour, scarcely speaking a word, for the
severe exertion required all our breath. The rain had ceased, and
stars began to glimmer amid the cloud-rifts overhead; but I knew now
that we were lost. She stopped suddenly, and sank down upon the sand.

"I am exhausted," she admitted, "and believe we are merely moving about
in a circle."