d care. It was Harry as he had pictured him night after
night when he had lain awake thinking of the time when they would meet;
clothed, too, just the same as any other camel driver, with thin cotton
garments tightened diagonally across the body, and about the thighs,
looking more like bandages than ordinary clothes, confined by another
broad band about the waist.

Yes: just as he had so often pictured what he must be like, even to the
changes wrought by suffering and age. But not Harry, for his brother
would surely have known him at a glance, as he leaned back against his
camel looking him full in the face, and have acted as he had been about
to do, till the bitter feeling came home to him that this was all a
waking dream brought on by exertion and excitement, and he felt that if
he gazed long and fixedly the imaginary picture would fade, leaving only
the ordinary slave camel driver of the desert looking in his direction.

But the change did not come, and they gazed one at the other still,
Frank waiting impatiently for the imaginary resemblance to die out.

"So like him," he thought; "but he would have rushed to my arms as I was
about to rush to his at all hazards, thinking of nothing but our meeting
out here in this savage place. I am wild and dreaming from what I have
gone through to-day, but he is cool and calm as he stands there. Yes:
he would have known me at once."

A shiver of misery ran through the thinker at that moment, as he grasped
the truth.

For how should his brother know him? He was a mere youth when they
parted at Southampton, when he saw him last upon the troop-ship--a boy
who had just finished school--and what was Harry looking at now? The
companion of a Baggara Emir, a black slave, dressed in white, armed with
sword and dagger, and mounted upon a splendid Arab horse. One of the
pair who had been pursued by the wild dervish band which was committing
so many fresh excesses in the city, and looking no better in his wild
costume, and grasping a keen-edged sword, than one of them.

Another giddy sensation came over Frank Frere, and he gasped for breath,
as with his left hand he snatched at his horse's mane and so
accidentally jerked the rein that the horse reared and he nearly fell.

The demand upon him for action, though, sent a shock through his nerves,
and gripping his saddle firmly he sat erect and patted and calmed down
his startled mount, the young Emir pressing up to him and nodding a