bour, when
some more provision was secured, with wine, and fairly distributed, when
the Greeks encamped by their skipper, and the travellers went up close
to the rocks, where a little thread of delicious fresh water trickled
down and lost itself in the sand.

This was a treasure to the travellers, and at the professor's desire
Yussuf filled the biscuit tin, and took it to the Greeks, who, however,
only laughed and said they preferred the wine.

The deliriously warm evening was spent in drying the wet garments in the
heated sand, and in resting. The professor, who seemed a good deal
fagged by his exertions, would hardly hear of sleeping, but was
exceedingly anxious about Lawrence, who, however, seemed to be none the
worse for the past night's exposure, the warmth of the day and the rest
he had had having recouped him to a wonderful extent. Mr Burne, too,
though he had worked very hard, declared that he never felt better, and
after smoking a cigar, which he took as a sandwich between two layers of
snuff, preparations were made for the night, it being decided to lie
down early and rise at daybreak, when a couple more hours' work would,
it was considered, make the felucca in a condition to sail at any time.

The professor insisted upon Yussuf lying down at once to get the first
rest, so as to be roused up towards midnight to take the watch.

He consented rather unwillingly, and then the point had to be settled
who should have the pistol and take the first watch.

The professor wished to commence, but Mr Burne was so indignant and
insisted so sternly that the pistol was handed to him, after Yussuf had
been asleep for about a couple of hours, and then Mr Preston and
Lawrence sought their sandy couches, and lay for a little while
listening to the soft murmur of the sea, and watching the brilliant
stars in the dark sky and in the purply black water, while with regular
and slow beat, like a sentry, Mr Burne walked up and down, pistol in
hand.

Lawrence lay awake long enough to hear the professor's deep breathing,
and his muttering of something once or twice. Then he lay gazing at the
old lawyer, thinking how comical it was, and what a change from Guilford
Street in busy London, till it all seemed to be dim and strange and
dreamlike.

Then it really was dreamlike, for, though the old lawyer was still
marching up and down before Lawrence's mental vision, it seemed to him
that he had swollen out to ten times his natural