heik," Edgar said calmly; "had it been otherwise I
would have left you to think that he had died on the field of battle. I
have reason to believe that Sidi has been released, and that you will
soon see him."

For a moment the sheik's eyes expressed incredulity; then the assured
tone and the calm manner of Edgar convinced him that he at least
believed that it was true.

"Are you sure, are you quite sure?" he asked, in tones so low that Edgar
could scarce hear him.

"I am quite sure--I would not buoy you up with false hopes. Sidi is
free. He is not far off now, and will speedily be here, directly he
knows that you are strong enough to see him."

For a minute the sheik's eyes closed, his lips moved, but no sound came
from them, but Edgar knew that he was murmuring thanks to Allah for his
son's preservation. Then he looked up again.

"I am strong enough," he said; "your news has made a man of me again.
Send him here."

Edgar walked away and joined Sidi.

"Be very calm and quiet," he said; "your father is very, very weak. Do
not break down. He knows that you are close by, and is prepared to see
you. Do not, I beg of you, agitate him; do not let him talk, or talk
much yourself; be calm and restful with him."

He turned away and walked to the end of the trees, where he engaged in a
short conversation with the two Arabs. Then he turned again, and went
near enough to catch a sight of the sheik. Sidi was kneeling by his
side, holding his hand to his heart, and a smile of happiness
illuminated the drawn face of the wounded man. Satisfied that all was
going on well, he joined the men.

"In the basket you will find a small cooking-pot," he said. "Pick up
some of the driest sticks that you can find, so as not to make any
smoke. Put some kabobs into the pot with as much water as will just
cover them; then place it over the fire, and let it stew until the meat
is in threads. Strain the broth off. I will give it to him, a sip at a
time."

"We need not be afraid of the smoke," one of the men said. "We went down
to the village to get bread and dates. A man saw that we were Arabs, and
asked us for news of what was going on in Cairo. Some fugitives passed
along yesterday evening, and said that the French were killing all the
Moslems. We told him that it was not as bad as that, but that many had
assuredly been slain. He called down maledictions upon the French, and
seeing that he was a true man we said that we had a wounded comr