no more indeed. Then, by degrees, his senses came back to him. He thrust
up his black spectacles which he had worn all this while, and stared at
the Sergeant with his sharp eyes.

"I understand," he said. "So we are not dead, after all, which perhaps
is a pity after getting through the beastly preliminaries. What has
happened?"

"Don't quite know," answered Orme; "ask Quick."

But the Sergeant was already engaged in lighting a little fire and
setting a camp-kettle to boil, into which he poured a tin of beef
extract that he had brought with other eatables from our stores on the
chance that he might find us. In fifteen minutes we were drinking soup,
for I forbade anything more solid as yet, and, oh! what a blessed meal
was that. When it was finished, Quick fetched some blankets from the
camels, which he threw over us.

"Lie down and sleep, gentlemen," he said; "Pharaoh and I will watch."

The last thing I remember was seeing the Sergeant, in his own fashion an
extremely religious man, and not ashamed of it, kneeling upon the
sand and apparently saying his prayers. As he explained afterwards,
of course, as a fatalist, he knew well that whatever must happen would
happen, but still he considered it right and proper to return thanks to
the Power which had arranged that on this occasion the happenings should
be good, and not ill, a sentiment with which every one of us agreed.
Opposite to him, with one of his faithful eyes fixed on Orme, sat
Pharaoh in grave contemplation. Doubtless, being an Eastern dog, he
understood the meaning of public prayer; or perhaps he thought that he