he knew, would rapidly lighten. As it should diminish,
faster than the woman's, he would take part of hers. Thus, as best
they could, they planned the final stage of their long agony.

Before starting again, they sat a while beside the gaunt, mangled
camel, held council of war and pledged faith again. They drank a
little of the mordant water that burned the throat and seemed in no
wise to relieve the horrible thirst that blackened their lips and
shriveled all their tissues.

"I think," the Master gasped, "we can make an hour or so before the
sun gets too bad." He squinted at the crimson and purple banderoles
of cloud through which, like the eye of a fevered Cyclops, the sun was
already glowering. Already the range of obsidian hills ahead of them,
the drifted sands all fretted with wind-waves, the whole iron plain of
the desert was quivering with heat. "Every hour counts, now. Before we
start, let us agree to certain things."

She nodded silently, crouching beside him on the sand. He drew an
emaciated arm about her and for a moment peered down into her face.
But he did not kiss her. A kiss, as they both were--some fine delicacy
of the soul seemed telling him--would have been mockery.

"Listen," he commanded. "We must strictly ration the food and water.
You must help me keep to that ration. I will help you. We must be
careful about scorpions. Above all, we must beware of mirages. You
understand?"

"I understand," she whispered.

"If either of us sees palms or water, that one must immediately
tell the other. Then, if the other does not also see them, that is a
mirage. We must not turn aside for anything like that, unless we both
see it. I am speaking rationally, now that I can. Remember what I
say!"

Silently she nodded. He went on:

"Now that we can still think, we must weigh every contingency. Our
only hope lies in our helping each other. Alone, either of us will
be led away by mirages in a little while. That kind of death must be
spared us. We both live or die, together."

She smiled faintly, with parched lips.

"Do you think I would leave you," she asked, "any more than you would
leave me? The pact is binding."

He pressed her hand.

"Come," said he. "Let us go!"

Once more they got to their feet, and set out to south-westward, over
a scorching plain of crumbling, nitrous mud-flakes. Laden as they
were, they could barely shuffle one foot after the other. But blessed
lapses of consciousness now and the