ture, and the
remembrance came vividly to him of the Paradiso and the fair girl with
whom the Englishman talked. The exciting events following that evening
passed before him--a lurid panorama.

An hour fled quickly away; then he sought the solitude of the desert,
and, having collected into a bag as much food and as many eggs as he
could carry, he walked away over the sands.

Under the stars he dug holes wherein to bury the eggs, and marked the
spots with stones; then, wrapping himself in his cloak, lay down to
sleep. All next day he loitered idly about, shunning the gaze of every
wandering Arab. When evening came he drew near to the palace to seek for
food. To his horror, the box had not been refilled. At first he hardly
realised how awful was his plight. Then the truth dawned upon him. Ahmed
and Madam Marx must have been arrested. He drew near to the casino and
stood under the open windows listening. A cold shudder ran down his
back, his face grew pale, and his lips trembled, for he heard two men
discussing the murder and the capture of his friends. An involuntary
smile lighted up the gloom of his features for a moment as one remarked
that the chief offender, the woman's husband, had eluded pursuit. Then
he crept back into the desert and waited for the dawn.

The sun rose, fiery and relentless, glittering on the waters of Aboukir,
and the cloudless heaven blazed like a prairie on fire. At midday, when
its rays fell straight upon him, his thirst became intense, and with
feverish fingers he dug up an egg. It was empty. He tossed it away and
dragged himself to another hole. The second egg was empty. In turn
he dug up all his eggs, and all alike were empty. Improperly sealed,
scantily covered by the sand, the water had evaporated. A great despair
seized him; he called on God in his anguish, and the silence of the
desert terrified him. In a fit of desolate anger he pulled off his cap,
and summoned all the saints, Christ, and God Himself, to enter it, and
then trampled on it, laughing wildly. Then he flung himself upon the
sand, his head still left bare to the pitiless sun. He knew the end had
come, but there was not any regret in his heart for his crimes, only
an impotent dismay and anger at his solitary condition. The thirst
increased every minute, and he gripped the sand with his fingers in his
agony. His last word was an oath.

At sunset he was dead.

Two days later Madam Marx left Alexandria by train for Ramleh. Th