on of their foes, to withdraw to the range of rugged
rocks near the shore, which would at once shelter them from the attacks
of the Turks and give them the advantage of being near their English
allies in the ship.

But the pasha, now that the main objects of his expedition had escaped
him, did not make any further attempts to pursue the Bedouins.

He and the remnant of his forces made the best of their way across the
desert to the town.

And now all attention was drawn towards Thyra.

All perceived, with the deepest regret, that her hours were numbered.

She had been that day in the thick of more than one deadly conflict.

Hundreds of bullets had passed her, but this one, aimed at another, had
only too successfully performed an errand of death.

Terrible indeed was the grief of Jack Harkaway.

"Oh, Thyra," he exclaimed, "my brave, dear girl, he has killed you."

"I know it," she replied, with a mournful resignation, "but thank
Heaven you, dear Jack, are saved."

"I have not deserved this devotion from you," said Jack, in broken
accents, while the tears fell from his eyes, "but you must not--shall
not die thus. Can nothing be done for her?" he asked, looking round at
the others.

"I fear not," replied the lieutenant, "but she must at once be taken on
board, and placed under the care of the surgeon."

Thyra had been lifted up and her wound staunched with her scarf.

"Here, Harry," said our hero, rousing himself from his grief, "help me
to carry her to the boat."

But ere his friend could fulfil his request, a tall, wild form
interposed between them, a brown, sinewy hand convulsively clutched
Jack's arm to draw him away.

"No hand but mine," cried a voice broken by intense grief, "shall bear
the Pearl of the Isles to yonder boat."

It was the Arab chief, Al-Zariel, his face haggard with grief, his dark
eyes gazing mournfully at the pale but beautiful face of her he loved.

He raised her tenderly, this wild warrior of the desert--tenderly as a
child, and disdained all aid, and bore her in his strong arms to the
boat.

The others drew back; no one at that moment had the heart to say him
nay.

Even the rough sailors, and the still rougher Arabs, were touched by
the mournful scene before them.

It was indeed a solemn procession to the boats, almost a funeral
_cortege_, for they bore one, who, though not yet dead, would never
see another day's sun arise.

Kara-al-Zariel gently deposited the dying girl