oon disappeared
from their view.

Supposing they had nothing further to fear, our adventurers stepped out
upon the strand, and commenced consultation as to their future course.

To keep on down the coast and get as far as possible from the Arab
encampment,--was the thought of all three; and as they were unanimous in
this, scarce a moment was wasted in coming to a determination. Once
resolved, they faced southward; and started off as briskly as their
shivering frames and saturated garments would allow them.

There was not much to cheer them on their way,--only the thought that
they had so adroitly extricated themselves from a dread danger. But even
this proved only a fanciful consolation; for scarce had they made a
score of steps along the strand, when they were brought to a sudden
halt, by hearing a noise that appeared to proceed from the ravine behind
them.

It was a slight noise, something like a snort, apparently made by some
animal; and, for the moment, they supposed it to come from the ugly
quadruped that, after saluting them, had retreated up the gorge.

On turning their eyes in that direction, they at once saw that they were
mistaken. A quadruped had produced the noise; but one of a very
different kind from the hairy brute with which they had parted. Just
emerging from the shadow of the sand-hills, they perceived a huge
creature, whose uncouth shape proclaimed it to be a camel.

The sight filled them with consternation. Not that it was a camel; but
because, at the same time, they discovered that there was a man upon its
back, who, brandishing a long weapon, was urging the animal towards
them.

The three midshipmen made no effort to continue the journey thus
unexpectedly interrupted. They saw that any attempt to escape from such
a fast-going creature would be idle. Encumbered as they were with their
wet garments, they could not have distanced a lame duck; and, resigning
themselves to the chances of destiny, they stood awaiting the encounter.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

A CUNNING SHEIK.

When the camel and its rider first loomed in sight,--indistinctly seen
under the shadow of the sand dunes,--our adventurers had conceived a
faint hope that it might be Sailor Bill.

It was possible, they thought, that the old man-o-war's-man, left
unguarded in the camp, might have laid hands on the maherry that had
made away with him, and pressed it into service to assist his escape.

The hope was entertained only for