e, but he was so far below the place
where the bridge had stood that no one heard him, and he finally gave it
up, knowing that even if he made himself known to friends, they would be
powerless to help him so long as the darkness lasted.

The child, so far as he could judge, was no more than nine or ten years
old, but she was richly clad, as he learned from the abundance of furs,
silks, and velvet. She had luxuriant hair, which streamed about her
shoulders, and he was sure she must be very beautiful.

She was alive, but faint and suffering. She did not wish to talk and Ben
did not urge her, although he was curious to know her identity.

"I will learn all in the morning," he said to himself; "that is, if we
are spared until then."

He was too excited and terrified to fall asleep, even had his discomfort
not been too great to permit it, and he found he needed his wits about
him.

Now and then the cake of ice which supported them was crowded by others,
until it seemed on the point of being overturned, in which event another
terrible struggle would be necessary to save himself and the little girl.

Then again, there seemed to be eddies and whirlpools in the current,
which threatened to dislodge them or to break up the miniature iceberg
into fragments, as the bridge itself was destroyed.

CHAPTER VIII

THE CIPHER TELEGRAM

The almost interminable night came to an end at last and the dull gray of
morning appeared in the east.

Ben Mayberry chafed the arms of the little stranger, and even slapped her
vigorously to prevent her succumbing to the cold. He was forced to rise
to his feet himself at intervals and swing his arms and kick out his
legs, to fight off the chilliness which seemed to penetrate to his very
bones.

As soon as the boy could make use of his eyes he found himself drifting
through the open country, where the river was fully double the width at
Damietta. This gave the masses of ice much more "elbow room," and
decreased the danger of capsizing.

Houses and villages were seen at intervals, and multitudes of people were
along the bank gathering driftwood and "loot," and watching the
unparalleled flood of waters.

Ben swung his hat and shouted, and at last caught the notice of the
people on the bank. Two sturdy watermen sprang into a boat and began
fighting their way out to the helpless ones. It was a hard task, but they
succeeded, and Ben and little Dolly Willard (as she had given her name)
w