Supper made Rattling Bill a little more amiable, though not much more forgiving to his foes. A three-quarters moon soon afterwards shed a faint light on the host, which, except the sentries, was sound asleep. Towards midnight a solitary figure moved slowly towards the place where the captives lay and awakened Miles, who sat up, stared, winked, and rubbed his eyes two or three times before he could bring himself to believe that his visitor was no other than the chief of the host-- Mohammed! "Rise. Com. I speak small Engleesh." Miles rose at once and followed the chief into the ruined hut. "Clear de ground," he said, pointing to the centre of the floor. Our hero obeyed, and, when the loose rubbish was cleared away, the moonbeams, shining through the ruined roof, fell on a ring bolt. Being ordered to pull it, he raised a cover or trap-door, and discovered beneath what appeared to be a cellar. "Now," said Mohammed, "listen: you an' friends go down--all. I shut door and cover up--rubsh. When we all go 'way, com out and go home. See, yonder is _home_." He pointed to the north-eastward, where a glowing star seemed to hang over the margin of the great level desert. "You are generous--you are kind!" exclaimed Miles, with a burst of enthusiasm. "Me grateful," said Mohammed, extending his hand in European fashion, which Miles grasped warmly. "Go, wake you comerads. Tell what me say, and com quick!" Miles was much too well-disciplined a soldier to hesitate, though he would have liked much to suggest that some of the troops might, before starting, take a fancy to explore the ruin, and to ask how long they should remain in the cellar before venturing out. Quietly awaking all his comrades, and drawing their surprised heads together, he whispered his tale in their wondering ears. After that they were quite prepared to act, and accompanied him noiselessly into the ruin. "Is the cellar deep?" asked Miles, as he was about to descend. "No; not deep." "But what about grub--whittles, meat, an' water--you know," said Molloy, with difficulty accommodating his words to a foreigner. "We'll starve if we go adrift on the desert with nothin' to eat or drink." "Here--food," said Mohammed, unslinging a well-filled haversack from his shoulders and transferring it to those of the sailor. "Stop there," he continued, pointing to the cellar, "till you hears guns--shoot--noise. I have make prep'rations! After that, silence. Then, com out, an' go _home_." Once again he pointed towards the glowing star in the north-east. "Mohammed," exclaimed Molloy, becoming suddenly impressed with the generous nature of the Arab's action, "I don't know as you're a descendant o' the Prophet, but I do know that you're a brick. Give us your flipper before we part!"