"No; there are the trees," said Raymond. "It's extraordinary. The whole tank seems to have shifted." The Resident was mopping his bald scalp and lifted his hat to let the gusty wind cool his head. A sudden squall blew the big pith sun-helmet out of his hand. Wargrave caught it in the air and returned it to its owner. "By Jove! it's a regular gale," he said. "I think I know what's happened. This wind's so strong that it's blown the water of the tank before it and actually shifted the whole mass thirty or forty yards this way." "Yes, I've known that to occur before with shallow ponds," said Raymond. "I've heard the passage of the Red Sea by the Israelites and the drowning of Pharaoh's Army explained in the same way. It's said that the crossing really took place at one extremity of the Bitter Lake through which the Suez Canal passes." Major Norton was staring at the far end of the tank now left bare. "There may be some interesting insects stranded on the bottom uncovered by the receding water," he said, abstractedly, and was moving away to search for them when Wargrave said disgustedly: "Don't you think, sir, that, as Mrs. Norton has had such a shock, the sooner we get off the better?" "Yes, yes. Very true. But you can order the camels to be saddled while I'm having a look," replied the enthusiastic collector. "I really must go and see. There may be some very interesting specimens there." And he hurried away. His wife smiled rather bitterly as he went. Then she turned to the two subalterns. "But tell me what happened? How did the _mugger_ come here? How was I saved?" Raymond rapidly narrated what had taken place. Violet looked at Wargrave with glistening eyes and held out her hands to him. "So you saved my life. How can I thank you?" she said gratefully. Her lips trembled a little. Frank took her hands in his but answered lightly: "Oh, it was nothing. Anyone else would have done the same. I happened to be the only one with a rifle." Raymond turned away quickly and walked over to the crocodile. Neither of them took any notice of him. Violet gazed fondly at Wargrave. "I owe you so much, Frank, so very much," she murmured in a low voice. "You've made my life worth living; and now you make me live." He was embarrassed but he pressed the hands he held in his. Then he released them and tried to speak lightly. "Shall I have the _mugger_ skinned and get a dressing-bag made out of his hide for you?" he said, smiling. "That'd be a nice souvenir of the brute." She shuddered. "I don't want to remember him," she cried, turning to glance at the crocodile. "Horrid beast! I can't bear the sight of him."