, not one word shall be said about the
little expedition of relief."

He salaamed and retired, leaving the duchess looking after him.

She had her doubts about his belief in one word of the story.

* * * * * *

Wrapped in her ermine cloak and leaning on her ebony stick, Olivia
Duchess of Longacres stood near all that is left of the Gate of
To-morrow.

Hugh Carden's mother looked down at her from the back of her camel, on
which had been fixed the padded seat which is perhaps the most
comfortable of all saddles.

Wellington, with the book between his teeth, sat next her, firmly
secured by a rope through the steel ring in his spiked collar to the
back of the seat.

"Take him, your grace," had urged Jane Coop, whose own heart was nigh
to breaking at being left behind. "Take him; he'll find her if we
should happen to have made a mistake. Missie calling you, Wellington.
Take the book to Missie; she wants it."

And the dog had obediently picked up the book in his teeth and waddled
in the wake of the search-party.

Maria Hobson stood close beside her mistress; the indifferent
_fellaheen_ stood some little way apart. They, too, have long since
become accustomed to the vagaries of the great white races.

"Let me go alone, dear. He is my son!"

The mother had pleaded for the sake of her first-born, and the old
woman, understanding, had given way.

"Goodbye, dear. I will wait for you here. Hobson will look after me.
Besides, as long as we save her good name, what matters anything else?
Thank God for the moon, Jill. You will easily follow the track of the
two horses. Give them both my love, and tell them I'm waiting. _Au
revoir_."

She stood and watched the camel slither across the desert at that
animal's almost incredible speed; then turned, sat down on the edge of
her litter, took out her bejewelled Louis XV snuff-box, rasped a match
on the sole of her crimson shoe, and lit a Three Castles with her eyes
on the track left by the hoofs of two horses.

Yes! Two.

Just an hour before they arrived, Ben Kelham had started from the Gate
of To-morrow to find his school-mate, Hugh Carden Ali, at his Tents of
Purple and of Gold.

CHAPTER XXXI

"_Sweet is true love tho' given in vain, in vain;
And sweet is death who puts an end to pain_."

TENNYSON.

Hugh Carden Ali, quite still and strangely unwelcoming, stood just
inside his tent; as Ben Kelham flung himsel