So this was to be our fate, I thought-to be stripped and murdered in cold blood by these treacherous scoundrels. Wild thoughts rushed through my brain in that terrible moment. Life is dear to most men, and the idea of being slaughtered like sheep in a shambles filled me with a fierce revulsion. I took the measure of our strippers. They were three in number; we were two. That was nothing. If I passed the word to Beyerle, and we agreed to make a fight of it, by a sudden onslaught we could dispose of two of our adversaries before they had recovered from the surprise of the attack. But even if we were to despatch the three of them before they could raise an alarm, what were we to do? where were we to go? It was probable that we should not get beyond the outer courtyard wall; but if we did succeed in getting clear away, what then? Ultimate capture was certain, and then perhaps a worse fate still would be in store for us. Moreover, perhaps they did not intend to kill, but only to plunder us; but young Mulud's gestures with his hand and throat recurred to my mind, and filled it with ominous foreboding.

All this flashed through me in an instant, though it takes some time to tell, and I settled it in my mind. that we should gain nothing by resistance. We were utterly and absolutely in their power. There was nothing to be done, therefore, but to wait the issue with courage-in such a manner as we should not afterwards be ashamed to remember if we should survive. The Susi themselves meet death with a calm and dignified fortitude, consoling themselves with the reflection that 'it is written,' and I scorned to think that an Englishman-or a German-should show a front less firm, or an upper lip less stiff.

'Gibu el cumia' (Give me your dagger), said my searcher, and I handed it over to him without a word. Then every pocket was turned out, and watch, money, priceless photo-films that could never be replacedeverything-were taken from me. A gold signet ring on my little finger was difficult to draw off on account of my fingers being swollen, and the stripper, not to be baulked by such a trifle, drew his dagger and was going to cut off the offending digit, but I placed it in my mouth, and got the ring off without further trouble. Beyerle was more fortunate in that respect. Seeing what was happening to me, he drew his own ring off without attracting attention, and concealed it in the palm of his hand, while his stripper was busily engaged in trying to hack off the brass buttons of his khaki coat, which presumably he took to be gold. Turning towards me he remarked, 'Cocky, they are going to butcher us.'

'Yes,' I replied, 'I think they are. man, buck up!'

Buck up, old

Poor fellow! He suffered from a weak heart, and I saw that the strain of the terrible ordeal was beginning to tell on him.

The man that was stripping me was still busy hacking at my buttons, when to our intense relief-for anything was better than this awful suspense—there was a knock at the door, and Mulud himself appeared in the doorway. Making a sign to us, we followed him into the darkness outside. Across the filthy courtyard he led us, and out into the open. There awaiting us stood a man on horseback and two on foot. None of the men did we recognise as any of those we had seen in our camp, and the horseman struck me as being better mounted and better dressed than any

Sbooya we had seen. Without delay we set out on the march, the mounted soldier leading the way, Beyerle and I and Mulud following immediately behind, and the two other men bringing up the rear.

'Where do you think they are taking us to, Cocky?' said Beyerle 'Cocky' was his favourite appellation when addressing me. 'Do you think they are going

to shoot us?'

'I haven't the faintest idea,' I replied, but I don't think they're going to shoot us, because, in the first place, it's too dark for them to see properly; and in the second place, if there was any picnic of that sort in hand, they would have it in the market-place in broad daylight, I fancy, so that all the people could turn out and see the fun. I can't make it out at all.'

I tried to glean from Mulud what all this portended, and whither we were going, but I could make nothing of his replies, except that I caught the words mat mud, and knew then that our lives were to be spared, at any rate for the time being. He also kept repeating the word labas, signifying 'all right,' to which we could honestly and fervently reply, Hamdulillah (Thank God).

Presently another horseman joined us, and we marched on in silence. We found out from the new arrival that he came from Fez, and then it dawned upon us that we were on our way to be delivered over to Giluli. That's what young Mulud meant when he kept on saying 'Moros' with that fiendish grin of his, but what did that accursed gesture of his imply? Was this only a postponement of our execution? The next few hours would solve the riddle.

After about an hour's tramping, we came to a halt on the hillside, along which ran the semblance of a path or track. The night wind blew cold and made

us shiver, starved as we were for want of food, having tasted nothing that day except the remnant of the previous night's barley bannock for breakfast. For nearly twenty minutes we waited there, until another horseman made his appearance. We were evidently picking up the scouts we had seen posted on the hills in the afternoon. Here Mulud left us, returning the way we had come, but spoke no word to us.

On we staggered again over the rough and unknown road, now following the dried-up course of a hillside stream, at other times climbing over great boulders. I noted our direction by the stars, and observed with a little satisfaction that, though we didn't keep on one straight course, still we were trending always towards the coast. After some hours' marching we halted before a house such as we had last left, and one of the men knocked at the door. It was not opened, but a voice replied from within, and it was soon evident we had come to the wrong place.

Another quarter of an hour and we had reached our destination, a tumble-down mud building of the usual kind, and the door was quickly opened in response to our knocking. Inside the room, which was reached through the customary stable-yard, were grouped some six or seven Moors, squatting in a circle, conspicuous among whom was the same venerable shiekh in the green sulham that we had seen from the window in Mulud's house. The others addressed him as Sidi Hassan, and I afterwards learnt that he was the notary of the Kaid el Bashir, Governor of the Sbooya. A grass mat was spread on the floor, and a camel-hair rug was given us to cover ourselves, and the remainder of that hideous night was spent in snatches of fitful sleep.

CHAPTER XIV.

EL ARABI COMES ASHORE AGAIN.

How El Arabi got on board the yacht-How his news was received-Mr. Henfrey's plan of campaign-The relief-party selected-Betrayal and capture-El Arabi appeals for mercy -The march inland-A halt on the way-A heated discussion-De Reya's cheerfulness under adverse circumstances -An act of kindness- A bad prospect-An unpalatable meal-The march resumed.

MEANWHILE, what had become of Sabbah, and how had he fared on leaving the camp on the morning of the attack by Giluli's troops?

On arrival at Sidi Warzuk, his first care was to patch up the worst leaks in the boat with the materials he had taken with him, and then get a sufficiently numerous crew together to row the boat out to the Tourmaline. There was some difficulty in this on account of the crazy condition of the craft; but by promising fifty dollars to each man, he got together a crew of eight to pull the oars. An offer of 200 dollars and twenty pieces of cloth failed to induce the owner of the boat to steer; and, in truth, the largeness of the bribe, especially coming from a Jew, might well have awakened suspicions in his mind, as well as in the minds of the other natives, to whom a sum of fifty dollars represented untold wealth.