“That the boss should give them free leave to vamoose the ranche in the hours of darkness throws me out,” he said, and Mansfield determined to balance this extraordinary failure of judgment on his leader’s part by keeping watch on his own account all night. But a hard day’s riding in sun and sand is not the best method of preparation for a vigil, and not so very long after his usual hour Mansfield was comfortably asleep. It was Cyril’s voice which aroused his two companions from their dreamless slumbers. “Mansfield! Hicks! wake up! Your revolvers!” Mr Hicks was on the alert in a moment, revolver in hand. There was no moon, and the fire was almost out, but his ear told him that the words came from the neighbourhood of the horses, which were plunging and kicking. “Strike a light,” continued the voice, “and let’s see who it is I’ve got here.” The flickering gleam of the match showed that Cyril was holding the loosened heel-rope of his own horse, while his revolver was pressed to the forehead of the sheikh. The man was crouching on the ground in an attitude which made it clear that he had been surprised when about to release the other horses. Just outside the circle of the light the dark forms of the two tribesmen were visible against the stars, mounted and ready to ride away, but afraid of endangering their sheikh if they attempted to attack Cyril. The sheikh’s own horse was close at his heels. “Is your revolver cocked, Hicks?” asked Cyril. “Mansfield, go and fetch in the sheikh’s horse, but don’t fire unless I give the word. Now, Hicks, ask the sheikh what he is doing here.” “He says he never calculated to take you to Sitt Zeynab, Count,” said Mr Hicks, receiving the sullen answers of the captive. “He and his people have fixed up all the other travellers in this style, leading them round and round until they were tired, and then sloping with their horses. They were so glad to escape from the desert, when they found their way out at last, that they never wanted to come back. He says he saw that we suspected something last evening, and he concluded it was time to travel.” “Tell him,” said Cyril, smiling grimly, “that he may lead us round and round as much as he likes, but he will have to take us to Sitt Zeynab at last, unless he wishes to wander about with us for ever.” “He says he guesses there’ll be some shooting first, Count.” “I quite agree with him. Mansfield, cock your revolver, as loudly as you can. Tell him that I shall have his horse and those of his men shot if I hear much more of this.” “You have him there, Count; but he says he can get fresh horses and come back and lay you out.” “Hardly,” was the suave reply. “I shall keep him and his men as guides all the same; but they will have to walk.” “Don’t mind him, Count; he’s just relieving his feelings a bit, I guess. It seems to hurt him real badly, the way he’s walked into this trap of yours.”