caught him and led
his horse apart from the thick of the battle.

Burning to avenge his friend, Jack struck with all his force at
Abdullah's head.

The interpreter received the blow upon his sword, which, proving the
stronger of the two, Jack's weapon snapped in the clash, and he was
left weaponless.

He seemed, indeed, at the mercy of his pitiless foe.

Abdullah smiled a cruel smile as he again raised his sabre.

But that smile was his last.

A lance-head gleamed past Jack, and transfixed Abdullah through the
chest, so that he was borne down among the trampling hoofs of the
horses.

"Yah, yah; dat's one to me, Massa Jack," exclaimed Tinker, for he it
was who had thus saved Jack's life.

Jack caught up Abdullah's sword, and, by a desperate charge, cut
through the opposing Turks, now "demoralised" by the loss of their
leader, and regained his Bedouin and English friends.

By this time the heat was very great.

The sky was like a dome of steel.

The sands of the desert burnt under the fierce sun.

The dust flew in clouds, save where the blood of the wounded and dying
had soaked into the arid soil.

Taking advantage of the confusion that now reigned in the Turkish
force, the English and Arabs made a last desperate effort to escape
their foes.

With a yell of defiance, the fierce Bedouins, led by Kara-al-Zariel,
dashed through the ranks of the enemy, dealing destruction right and
left.

Taking advantage of the disconcerted state of the foe, Jack and his
friends were enabled again to join their Arab allies, and the retreat
of the whole party towards the shore began in good earnest.

They would soon have distanced their now exhausted foes, but ere the
English vessel could be reached, another large body of Turks came up to
the attack.

This force was led by no less a personage than the Pasha Ibrahim
himself, whose fierce grey eyes glared beneath his shaggy brows at
those who had slain his vizier.

Beside him rode the officer in command of his squadron, and another
young man, in whom, although dressed in red _fez_ and Turkish
uniform, Jack recognised Herbert Murray.

He was attended by his servant Chivey, also dressed as a Turk.

They were all splendidly mounted; their horses fresh, and their troops
well-disciplined.

As the two parties approached, the pasha's eyes were fixed upon Thyra.

"It is the Pearl of the Isles," he exclaimed, "who was stolen by these
infidels from the harem. She shall yet