and Fate ordained that at that particular moment the weapon should
stick in its leather scabbard.

Before he could disengage it, Mohammed Beyd had recovered himself
and was dashing upon him. Again Werper struck the other in the
face, and the Arab returned the blow. Striking at each other and
ceaselessly attempting to clinch, the two battled about the small
interior of the tent, while the girl, wide-eyed in terror and
astonishment, watched the duel in frozen silence.

Again and again Werper struggled to draw his weapon. Mohammed Beyd,
anticipating no such opposition to his base desires, had come to
the tent unarmed, except for a long knife which he now drew as he
stood panting during the first brief rest of the encounter.

"Dog of a Christian," he whispered, "look upon this knife in the
hands of Mohammed Beyd! Look well, unbeliever, for it is the last
thing in life that you shall see or feel. With it Mohammed Beyd
will cut out your black heart. If you have a God pray to him
now--in a minute more you shall be dead," and with that he rushed
viciously upon the Belgian, his knife raised high above his head.

Werper was still dragging futilely at his weapon. The Arab was
almost upon him. In desperation the European waited until Mohammed
Beyd was all but against him, then he threw himself to one side to
the floor of the tent, leaving a leg extended in the path of the
Arab.

The trick succeeded. Mohammed Beyd, carried on by the momentum of
his charge, stumbled over the projecting obstacle and crashed to