more beauty in a field of grain waving under
the August sun, than in these acres of yellow sand, and the thought of a
perpetual summer, with never the soft grey tones of an autumn sky or the
crisp frostiness of a winter's morning--well, it doesn't appeal to my
John Bull soul!"

He laughed, ashamed of his vehemence, and the horses sprang gaily
forward, glad to be moving again after even so brief a halt.

All through the morning they rode, resting for an hour or two at noon;
and in the late afternoon they remounted their horses and fared forth
once more in search of the camping-place Sir Richard had in mind.

By dint of compasses and an unusually accurate sense of location, the
older man had staked their course with admirable directness, and as the
moon rose they drew rein at the appointed destination, a wild and rocky
valley whose caves offered a natural protection from the chill night
breeze which blew with disconcerting freshness over the loose,
salt-impregnated sand.

Here, thanks to the ever-useful thermos flask, they enjoyed a sufficient
meal of hot soup, followed by a multitude of sandwiches of divers kinds;
and when, after a pull at their respective flasks, the two lit their
pipes and stretched their limbs, cramped by the day's exertions,
Anstice, at least, felt more at peace with the world than he had felt
for years.

To be hastening towards Iris Cheniston, to be sure of meeting her within
twenty-four hours, sure of seeing the kind friendliness of her wide grey
eyes, of hearing the soft cooing notes of her voice, was enough to make
a man content with his lot; and the fact that he was journeying towards
her in order to do his best to save the life of the one human being who
stood between him and his happiness lost all its irony when he
remembered that it was in reality Iris herself for whom this service was
undertaken.

The next morning found them early astir; and as their horses danced over
the sand, literally throwing the miles behind them, Sir Richard's
spirits, which had been somewhat fluctuating, rose with a bound. He
whistled gaily as they rode, ever and anon breaking off to conjecture on
the nature of the welcome they might reasonably expect to receive; and
when he spoke, as he did frequently, of his son-in-law, his
prognostications, in striking contrast with his former pessimism, were
couched in the most hopeful language.

Strange to say, as his spirits rose, so did those of Anstice sink. An
odd