id I--in a way--but I've never really loved
anyone--but--Hilda Ryder." The unconscious pathos in his tone robbed the
words of all offence. "But she's a dear little soul--Iris--and I only
wish I'd not been beast enough--to marry her--to spite you----" The thin
voice trailed away into a whisper and Anstice spoke resolutely.

"See here, Cheniston, you're ill and you don't know what you're saying.
Don't talk any more, there's a good chap. You only tire yourself out to
no purpose."

But with the perversity of fever Cheniston would not be gainsaid.

"I'm all--right." His hollow voice and laboured breath gave the lie to
his assertion. "But--if I die--and the rest of you get out
alive--you--you'll look after Iris, won't you? I wish you'd--marry
her--you'd be good to her--and she would soon--be fond--of you----"

Somehow Anstice could bear no more. With a hasty movement he sprang up,
and in his voice was a decision against which Cheniston in his weakness
could not hope to prevail.

"See here, Cheniston, you've just got to lie still and keep quiet. You
know"--his manner softened--"you're really not fit to talk. Do try to
get a little sleep--you'll feel so much stronger if you do."

"I feel--very weak." He spoke with an evident effort, and Anstice
repented him of his vehemence. With a gentleness Iris herself could not
have surpassed he did all in his power to make Cheniston as easy as
possible; and when, presently, the latter relapsed into the stupor which
passed with him for sleep, Anstice left him, to go in search of Mrs.
Wood, who had promised to take charge of him for an hour or two.

A few minutes later he encountered Garnett, walking moodily along the
uneven passage-way; and a new seriousness in the Australian's expressive
face gave Anstice pause.

"What's up, eh? You look mighty solemn all of a sudden!"

"I feel it, too." The younger man turned round and his eyes looked grim.
"Do you know what those damned Bedouins have been up to now? I believe,
and so does Hassan, that they've been poisoning the well out there"--he
pointed through the slit in the wall to the courtyard beneath--"and if
so we've not got a drop of water we can drink."

"I don't believe it." Honestly he did not. Although he had no cause to
love the Oriental race he was loth to believe even an uncivilized foe
capable of such barbarity.

"As sure as God made little apples, it's true." Garnett was in no wise
offended by Anstice's uncompromising rejoi