But though seemingly wrapped in the embrace of Morpheus there were two whose minds were too terribly active for repose. They were Oswald Ferris and Talbot Strangemore. Strangemore had thrown himself down like the rest upon his rude camp-bed and closed his eyes, but not in sleep. His mind momentarily diverted from the contemplation of Nina’s peril by the episode just related, now recurred with agonizing persistency to her, his beautiful, deeply wronged, and too lately loved wife. He longed for wings that he might fly to her side, and whisper in her ears while he held her close to his throbbing heart, the story of the deep all-absorbing devotion he felt for her. “I must go home to her at once, and I will move heaven and earth but that I will secure her acquittal,” he vowed to himself. It lacked scarce an hour to dawn, but in the burning impatience that possessed him it seemed that the night would never pass, but at last the “stars paled their ineffectual fires,” the dark hour before the dawn came and passed, the grey gleam of the new day appeared in the orient east, and he sprang impatiently from his couch. “I can dally here no longer. Every hour is an eternity of woe, while I linger!” he exclaimed. He went to rouse Harvey Wilson to ask him if he could have a guide as far as Khartoom. Wilson sprang to his feet, rubbing his sleepy eyes. “A guide? Why of course--” he began, and even while he spoke he looked over toward the posse whom he had set to guard Oswald Ferris. Every man was sleeping serenely on his post. He looked past them at the camp-bed where Ferris usually slept--it was empty! With a ringing cry he roused the camp from the weary slumber that brooded peacefully over it. “Wake, every one of you,” he cried, hoarsely. “The guard have slept upon their posts and the prisoner has fled into the desert!” CHAPTER XLIX. TORN BY WOLVES. In the early dawn of the new day a small, determined band moved out of the camp in search of the missing man. In spite of his anxiety to be gone Talbot Strangemore decided not to leave until he learned the fate of Ferris. Bad and cruel as the man had shown himself his heart revolted from leaving him to the certain doom that awaited him if caught by the incensed party who had set forth in search of him. He therefore joined the company going out, with the inward determination of rescuing the runaway from violence if he could. Something of irresistible pity mingled with his thoughts for he knew that the man must have been a victim to a deadly fear indeed to have ventured out alone into the Egyptian desert in order to escape his enemies. The desert was known to be infested with wolves, hyenas, and lesser beasts of prey. How horrible if he should be attacked by these creatures alone and unaided.