So Headingly was gone, and Cecil Brown was gone, and their haggard eyes were turned from one pale face to another, to know which they should lose next of that frieze of light-hearted riders who had stood out so clearly against the blue morning sky, when viewed from the deck-chairs of the _Korosko_. Two gone out of ten, and a third out of his mind. The pleasure trip was drawing to its climax. Fardet, the Frenchman, was sitting alone with his chin resting upon his hands, and his elbows upon his knees, staring miserably out over the desert, when Belmont saw him start suddenly and prick up his head like a dog who hears a strange step. Then, with clenched fingers, he bent his face forward and stared fixedly towards the black eastern hills through which they had passed. Belmont followed his gaze, and, yes-yes--there was something moving there! He saw the twinkle of metal, and the sudden gleam and flutter of some white garment. A Dervish vedette upon the flank turned his camel twice round as a danger signal, and discharged his rifle in the air. The echo of the crack had hardly died away before they were all in their saddles, Arabs and negroes. Another instant, and the camels were on their feet and moving slowly towards the point of alarm. Several armed men surrounded the prisoners, slipping cartridges into their Remingtons as a hint to them to remain still. “By Heaven, they are men on camels!” cried Cochrane, his troubles all forgotten as he strained his eyes to catch sight of these new-comers. “I do believe that it is our own people.” In the confusion he had tugged his hands free from the halter which bound them. “They’ve been smarter than I gave them credit for,” said Belmont, his eyes shining from under his thick brows. “They are here a long two hours before we could have reasonably expected them. Hurrah, Monsieur Fardet, _ça va bien, n’est ce pas?_” “Hurrah, hurrah! _merveilleusement bien! Vivent les Anglais! Vivent les Anglais!_” yelled the excited Frenchman, as the head of a column of camelry began to wind out from among the rocks. “See here, Belmont,” cried the Colonel. “These fellows will want to shoot us if they see it is all up. I know their ways, and we must be ready for it. Will you be ready to jump on the fellow with the blind eye? and I’ll take the big nigger, if I can get my arms round him. Stephens, you must do what you can. You, Fardet, _comprenez vous? Il est necessaire_ to plug these Johnnies before they can hurt us. You, dragoman, tell those two Soudanese soldiers that they must be ready--but, but” ... his words died into a murmur, and he swallowed once or twice. “These are Arabs,” said he, and it sounded like another voice.