He knew that it would be worse than useless to endeavor to escape, and cursing his evil luck, he waited in dead silence, and with the cold dew of terror beading his brow, for the finale of his attempted crime. “Curse me, what a bungler I was,” he said, “I was sure that the serpent would do its deadly work surely, and then I would have removed the tell-tale box and with it all trace of my crime. Fate has played me a cursed trick, and I shall most probably pay the penalty of my mistake with my life. So, Sibyl, you will be avenged after all, and my vengeance upon you will have been the primal cause of my own death.” It was horrible sitting there so still under the burning stars of Egypt and looking death in the face. Oh how he cursed the memory of the woman who through love had brought all this awful doom upon him. It was most unfortunate that the light coquette had ever crossed his path. His passionate, intense nature, fierce and jealous to the last degree had staked everything upon her, and the loss of her had made him a fiend. Everything good and noble had seemed to die within him. Like the hot Khamsin as it swept across the desert plains blighting and burning everything in its destructive course, so incurable despair had burned away everything that had been noble within him. CHAPTER XLIII. JUDGE LYNCH. When John Armstrong had satisfied the curiosity of his friends over his long delay, and given them letters and news from home he claimed the right to ask some questions himself. He was exceedingly anxious to know the meaning of the dramatic scene he had come upon so unexpectedly. Thus recalled to the terrible transgression of Ferris, the men resumed their scowling looks again, and low, threatening murmurs ran around the circle. “I can tell you the story in a nut-shell,” answered Harvey Wilson. “When we left England there were two men, compatriots of your own, who joined our party. Observation has shown us that though ostensibly friends they were secretly at war with each other. To-night we detected one in an attempt to destroy the other by placing an asp in his bed.” “Horrible!” ejaculated John Armstrong. “And you say he was a compatriot of my own. What is his name?” “Oswald Ferris. Do you know him?” inquired one of the party, curiously. Mr. Armstrong shook his head. “No, I have never heard the name before, and I am very sorry that he is a countryman of mine. But what were you about to do with the traitorous wretch when I came upon the scene?” “We were going to try him in a court of Judge Lynch,” Wilson replied, steadily, and the listener shuddered and then laughed. “What! Judge Lynch in Egypt! You are making progress indeed,” he said. “But did the other man die of the sting of the asp?” he inquired.