They rode out of the gateway, followed by Major Keeling’s two orderlies, gave Captain Porter his orders, and struck off across the desert to the south-west, in the direction taken by Ferrers and the Mirza a week before. By the time they reached the hills the eclipse was just beginning, and in the ghastly half-light, which seemed to be destitute of all warmth and to suck the colour from the rocks and sand, they pushed on towards the fortress. It was not long before they were challenged and their path barred by a patrol wearing the white and scarlet dress of the brotherhood. Major Keeling bade the orderlies remain where they were, taking precautions against surprise, and if neither Sir Dugald nor himself had returned in an hour, to ride for their lives to Alibad and Captain Porter. “Tell the Sheikh-ul-Jabal,” he said to the men who had stopped him, “that his friend Keeling Sahib is here, and desires to see him on a matter of great importance to them both.” One of the men was sent with the message, and presently returned to say that the Sheikh was willing to give audience to the visitors if they would consent to be blindfolded until they reached his presence. Sir Dugald demurred, whereupon his leader told him to stay with the orderlies if he liked, but not to cavil about trifles, and he submitted. Their horses led by a man on either side, they rode on, able only to distinguish that the path wound uphill and downhill a good deal, and was sometimes pebbly and sometimes rocky. Then they passed under an echoing gateway, where their guides warned Major Keeling to stoop, and across a paved courtyard, and were told they must dismount. Sir Dugald felt to make sure that his sword was loose in the scabbard and his pistols untouched, and allowed himself to be guided up a flight of steps. They entered some building, and the bandages were removed from the eyes of the two Englishmen. The light was very imperfect, for the eclipse was approaching totality, but they were able to distinguish a majestic bearded figure in white and scarlet facing them. “Sheikh Sahib,” began Major Keeling impulsively; but he was interrupted by an involuntary exclamation from Sir Dugald-- “Why, the beggar’s the living image of you, Major!” A smile passed over the features of the Sheikh-ul-Jabal, and he ordered the attendants to bring lights. Torches arrived, and Major Keeling gazed in astonishment into a face which was bewilderingly reminiscent of his own, while Sir Dugald compared the two feature by feature, and could find no difference. “This explains the mystery, then!” he said. “Why, so it does!” said Major Keeling, “and Ferrers is not quite the hound we thought him. Did you know of this likeness?” he asked of the Sheikh. “I discovered it the night we met in the desert,” was the answer, “and the reports of my disciples would have informed me of it if I had not. It has had advantages for both of us,” and he smiled again.