se wretches do hate Europeans," thought he, as he trudged
along beside the man and began to think more seriously of what was
in store for him.

A few yards further on they stopped outside the same hut where they
halted the night before. The guard knocked at the door, which was
instantly opened, and two soldiers barred the way. George's guard at
once explained, and the two men fell back, leaving them free to
enter.

The guide led the way. The room was dark, and as far as Helmar could
see at first glance, it was as devoid of windows and in almost as
ruinous a condition as his prison. He saw in one swift glance an
untidy bed, covered with brown blankets, occupying one side of the
room, and then his attention was riveted on a man dressed in
Egyptian costume writing at a table in the centre of the apartment.
He seemed to take no notice of their approach, so absorbed was he in
his work; not a movement escaped him beyond the manipulation of his
pen, which was decidedly rapid, George thought, for an "uncivilized
savage."

The prisoner had time to note the long sword hanging at the man's
side, and also the sinister projecting butt of a revolver from his
belt, but beyond this there was nothing to mark him out as anything
much above the rest of the rebels he had seen.

George and his guide halted in front of the table, and the officer
with a movement of irritation threw down his pen and looked up.
There was a momentary silence, and the two men exchanged glances of
mutual defiance and hatred. Then, with an unpleasant smiling curl of
the lip, the latter said--

"So, George Helmar, we meet again!"

It was Mark Arden. Helmar had not been altogether unprepared for
this meeting. Mark, he knew, was in the neighbourhood, but he had
not been certain he was to be the arbitrator of his fate. He thought
swiftly, and quickly realized that no feelings of similar
nationality and education would help to save him from this villain's
vengeance. He therefore determined to put on the boldest face
possible, and meet defiance with defiance, hatred with contempt, and
let his captor understand that he did not care a jot for anything
that he could do to him.

"You escaped me before, but I thought it would not be long before I
should again get hold of you. That was a smart trick you served me
at Port Said, and I haven't forgotten it."

George smiled, as he thought how easily he had outwitted this man
before, and wondered if there were no possib