M. de Morin was stooping down to remove the winding-sheet when, by way of warning, he received a blow on his arm from a sword, fortunately without sustaining any injury. He sprang up and made a rush at his assailant, but stopped short suddenly on recognizing, in the star-light, the chief of the slave caravan, with whom, but a month previously, he had had such a sharp encounter. The chief and his men simultaneously recognized the two Europeans, and their joy knew no bounds. At last all their enemies had been delivered into their hands, by mere chance, by the will of Allah. The Prophet had taken compassion on them, their cries for vengeance had reached him, their prayers had been heard. Not only had he given up to them M. Delange, who had ventured into the establishment of the Almehs, but he had also thrown in their way, at the dead of the night, and on the banks of the Nile, his companions. The thought that on two occasions in the same evening the Prophet had so manifestly shown his favour to them, could not fail to have a powerful influence on these fanatics, and it served to animate their courage. They made the grand mistake, nevertheless, of evidencing their joy prematurely, of relying too much on their superior strength, and, confident of victory, betrayed a secret which they would have done well to conceal. The chief, a European by birth, as we have already said, and speaking French, after a fashion, was imprudent enough to exclaim— "At last you are all three in our power!" "All three!" cried M. Périères, turning towards his friend. They looked at each other, and took the whole thing in at a glance. The shapeless heap at their feet, the gagged and shrouded being could be no other than their companion. Dr. Delange. This unexpected revelation produced a complete and instantaneous change in their programme. It was no longer a question of risking their lives to save some unknown unfortunate, some ailing slave, as they had supposed, who was to be thrown into the Nile as the best means of disposing of such worthless property; the business in hand now was to rescue a fellow countryman, a friend, for whom they were ready to sacrifice themselves just as he would have done for them in similar circumstances. "The fools!" whispered M. Périères in M. de Morin's ear. "And to think that I was just going to suggest getting out of this scrape as quietly as possible?" "A brilliant idea that would have been!" replied M. de Morin. "What would have become of the poor Doctor? See, he has recognised our voices and is giving a few more evidences of vitality in order to attract our attention." And, so saying, he was stooping down to take hold of the bûrnus once more, when Périères, seizing him by the arm, exclaimed— "Wait. They are too near us. Let us clear the ground." And, without waiting for a reply, he fired three random shots with his revolver.