It was evening when Diana opened drowsy and heavy eyes, a bitter taste in her mouth from the effects of the drug that Saint Hubert had given her. Everything had been laid out in readiness for her waking with the little touches that were characteristic of Zilah's handiwork, but the Arab girl herself was not visible. The lamp was lighted, and Diana turned her head languidly, still half confused, to look at the clock beside her. The tiny chime sounded seven times, and with a rush of recollection she leaped up. More than twelve hours since she had knelt beside him after drinking the coffee that Raoul had given her. She guessed what he had done and tried to be grateful, but the thought of what might have happened during the twelve hours she had lain like a log was horrible. She dressed with feverish haste and went into the outer room. It was filled with Arabs, many of whom she did not recognise, and she knew that they must belong to the reinforcements that Ahmed Ben Hassan had sent for. Two, who seemed from their appearance to be petty chiefs, were talking in low tones to Saint Hubert, who looked worn and tired. The rest were grouped silently about the divan, looking at the still-unconscious Sheik. The restlessness and delirium of the morning had passed and been succeeded by a death-like stupor. Nearest to him stood Yusef, his usual swaggering self-assurance changed into an attitude of deepest dejection, and his eyes, that were fixed on Ahmed Ben Hassan's face, were like those of a whipped dog. Gradually the tent emptied until only Yusef was left, and at last, reluctantly, he too went, stopping at the entrance to speak to Saint Hubert, who had just taken leave of the two headmen. The Vicomte came back, bringing a chair for Diana, and put her into it with gentle masterfulness. "Sit down," he said almost gruffly. "You look like a ghost." She looked up at him reproachfully. "You drugged that coffee, Raoul. If he had died to-day while I was asleep I don't think I could ever have forgiven you." "My dear child," he said gravely, "you don't know how near you were to collapse. If I had not made you sleep I should have had three patients on my hands instead of two." "I am very ungrateful," she murmured, with a tremulous little smile.