Then, feeling thoroughly tired, I told Firoz to keep awake, curled up in Wrexham’s bedding again, and in a few minutes, despite a very tender face, was asleep. A somewhat broken sleep it was, full of dreams about arrows and savage men, sometimes my mail-jacketed friends of the afternoon, sometimes older souvenirs; and in the midst of them all a vision, big hazel-grey eyes, a very kissable kind of mouth, and a cloud of red-gold hair over white shoulders. Then once a picture of all that with a slim white body waiting bravely for death, and lastly, a sweet, low voice saying, “Good-night, Harilek; good-night ... and thank you.” I had no more dreams after that. CHAPTER X BELOW THE CLIFFS It was past four o’clock when Forsyth woke me up, and I rolled out of my blankets into the cold dawn. The wind had dropped now, however. “Time to turn out, old thing,” he said. “We’ve got to be under way by six. How’s the face?” “A bit sore,” said I, as I tightened up my _chaplis_. “Where’s John?” “Still sitting up at the end of the pass. He’s not coming back. We’re to pack up and start off to the east. He and Payindah will stay there till it’s light, and then come away following us as rear-guard. Nothing happened all the time I was there. But old Wrexham’s a hard nut. Wish I had half his nerve. He went crawling among the bones nearly up to the gate to look-see.” Firoz was setting out cups and plates on the _yakhdans_ by the light of a hurricane-lamp. In the moonlight I could see the camels kneeling down and Sadiq carrying up loads. Evidently Forsyth had been busy since he came back. “First thing is to get some clothes for the lady,” he continued. “You’re the nearest size; I’m too long and John’s too fat. What can you raise? That pair of grey flannel trousers you keep for state occasions and your other shooting-coat will do as a start.” “I’ve got a Jaeger sweater, too, and a pair of old tennis-shoes.” “Good, and I’ve got my one and only silk shirt. Don’t suppose she’ll want to wear your sweater next to her skin. Thank goodness, I’ve got a lot of safety-pins in my outfit. That’s the chief essential as far as women go. Well, if you help Sadiq, I’ll go and wake her up; I’m glad she got to sleep. I was afraid she might break down if she didn’t.” Ten minutes later, he returned chuckling to where I was helping Sadiq rope things on to the camels. “D----d lucky you have a fellow with you who’s been brought up by a crowd of sisters. I wonder what the wretched girl would have done if she’d been handed over to the tender mercies of you and John.” Considering the trouble I’d taken to collect the lady, and the fact that I have a perfectly good sister myself, I thought the taunt was unmerited. So I merely asked: “Whose sisters?” whereupon Forsyth answered in quite a peeved way that he meant his own.