A moment later the man walked out into the camp, the body of the
woman across his shoulder.

A thorn boma had been thrown up about the camp, to discourage the
bolder of the hungry carnivora. A couple of sentries paced to and
fro in the light of a fire which they kept burning brightly. The
nearer of these looked up in surprise as he saw Werper approaching.

"Who are you?" he cried. "What have you there?"

Werper raised the hood of his burnoose that the fellow might see
his face.

"This is the body of the woman," he explained. "Mohammed Beyd has
asked me to take it into the jungle, for he cannot bear to look
upon the face of her whom he loved, and whom necessity compelled
him to slay. He suffers greatly--he is inconsolable. It was with
difficulty that I prevented him taking his own life."

Across the speaker's shoulder, limp and frightened, the girl waited
for the Arab's reply. He would laugh at this preposterous story;
of that she was sure. In an instant he would unmask the deception
that M. Frecoult was attempting to practice upon him, and they
would both be lost. She tried to plan how best she might aid her
would-be rescuer in the fight which must most certainly follow
within a moment or two.

Then she heard the voice of the Arab as he replied to M. Frecoult.

"Are you going alone, or do you wish me to awaken someone to accompany