Then he waited. It would take the Hadendowas fully five minutes to come up with him, and he experienced a feeling akin to astonishment that he could bide his time so patiently, without any pang of anxiety, or hope, or agonizing misgiving. He thought of Irene, but only of her welfare. If he were not brought down by a chance bullet early in the fray, he felt quite certain of being able to stave off the final rush long enough to give Abdur Kad'r a breathing spell, he had sufficient confidence in that wily old Arab's resources to believe that he would outwit his pursuers, provided they lost a good deal of time in passing this barrier. Plan he had none, save to hail the enemy in Arabic and English, and then put up a strenuous fight for the benefit of those who approached nearest. Round the shoulder of the rock he could look eastward, and a glimmering mist in that direction reminded him of the sea, and of the _Aphrodite_. What a difference a hundred miles made! The luxuriously appointed yacht sailed out there in the midst of the ghostly cloud not so long ago. And here was he, clutching a rifle and preparing to sell his life in order to save most of her passengers and crew from a sudden attack by a gang of bloodthirsty ruffians led by a frenzied Italian. As a study in contrasts that was rather striking, he fancied. At last he heard the shuffling of camels' feet and the mutterings of men. The Hadendowas were crossing the river bed. "Stop!" he shouted, in Arabic. "You die otherwise!" There was an instant silence. They were evidently not prepared for this bold challenge. "I am an Englishman," he added, still in Arabic, and, in the belief that some of them might at least recognize the sound of English, he went on: "You have no right to molest me and my servants. I call on you to return to your master, and set at liberty the Arab Hussain--" He was answered by a perfect blaze of rifles. Every man fired at random. At least a dozen bullets crashed against the rock. A violent tug at his left sleeve and some spatters of hot lead on his cheek showed that one missile had come too near to be pleasant. After passing through his coat it had splashed on the granite just behind him. He did not speak again, nor would he fire until sure of a mark. Another volley lit the darkness. This time he made out the forms of his attackers. They were standing some twenty yards away, and he marveled that they seemed not to see him; though he reflected at once, with the utmost nonchalance, that the blinding flash of the guns screened him quite effectually from their eyes. Then he saw two dim figures moving swiftly forward. He brought both down, and their yells rent the air.