"I've a file," announced Gerald. "I saw one lying outside the tent of Azuf the blacksmith this morning, and so I picked it up. I meant to have told you before." "Good!" replied Reeves emphatically. "As soon as we call a halt we'll begin operations." "Haven't we gone far enough?" asked Hugh. "Far enough?" repeated Reeves fiercely. "Not by any means. We'll be seen at daybreak, if not before, if we stay here." On they plodded, keeping resolutely to the south-east. Once or twice Hugh fancied that he could distinguish the sounds of distant voices, but neither Gerald nor Reeves could detect any noises that could be put down to their pursuers. At length, just before dawn, an intense blackness brooded over the desert. The stars withheld their light, and for nearly an hour the three fugitives were riding blindly, unable to ascertain in which direction they were going, but trusting to Providence to guide them from their taskmasters. "Look here," exclaimed Reeves, pulling his hierie and turning towards his almost invisible companions, "this won't do! Goodness only knows where we are heading for. We'll make a halt till dawn, or until the stars are visible again. I only wish we had a watch. It can't be far off sunrise." Descending from their lofty perches, the fugitives hobbled the camels and waited, the correspondent making good use of his time by filing away at one of the wristlets to which was secured Gerald's chain. "Now then, Rags, you have a shot at it," he said, handing Hugh the file, and wiping the moisture from his brow, for even in the cold night air the exertion was trying and tedious. The lad took the file, and while Reeves steadied Gerald's wrist, Hugh worked manfully at the stubborn metal. So engrossed were they by their task that the dawn began to glimmer ere the fugitives were aware of it. Suddenly Reeves looked up. "By Jove! we've been making a mess of it," he exclaimed, pointing to the glow in the sky. Instead of pointing to his left, he pointed in exactly the opposite direction. During the period of darkness they had completed a semicircle, and were making as nearly as possible straight for the direction whence they had come. "Up with you!" he continued, as he set the example by unhobbling his hierie and climbing into the high-peaked saddle. From his lofty perch upon the camel's back he glanced anxiously in a northerly direction. The sun was just appearing above the horizon, and in its ruddy light the Englishman saw a sight that made him mutter under his breath. Less than a mile distant were their pursuers! CHAPTER VII The Fight in the Desert URGING their steeds to the utmost, the three fugitives rode with set faces, resolving either to escape or to fight to the end. Recapture would mean far worse than death.