In a moment the slippers he had taken off his own boots had been pulled over Gordon’s. "Right! And now, my dear Gordon, you and I are going to part company." "Here?" said Gordon. "Yes, here," said Hafiz, and then pointing with one hand to the hill and with the other to the waste, he said, "You are going that way—I am going this." "Why so?" "Why? Do you ask me why? Because the trackers are after us—because they may be here at any moment—because they know there are two of us, but when they find we have separated they’ll follow up the man who wears the military boots." "Hafiz!" "Well, I wear them, don’t I?" "Do you mean it, Hafiz—that you are going to turn the trackers on to yourself?" "Way shouldn’t I? Lord God! what can they do to me? If they catch me I’ll only laugh in their dirty black faces. I’ll give them a run before that, though. Bedrasheen, Sakkara, Mena, Gizeh—a man wants some fun after a night like this, you know." He was laughing as if he were beside himself with excitement. "By that time you’ll be far away from here, please God! Six hours at least—I’ll see it’s six, Gordon; six hours’ start on good camels—across the desert, too—and not a black devil of them all to know what the dickens has become of you." His fear was as great as ever, but it had suddenly become heroic. "Hafiz!" said Gordon. His voice was faltering, and he was holding out both hands, but Hafiz, unable to trust himself, was pretending not to hear or see. "No time to lose, though! Time is life, brother, and you mustn’t stay here a moment longer. Over the hill—first village beyond the fort—Osman will be waiting for you." "Hafiz!" "Can’t wait for farewells, Gordon. Besides, you’re not going for good, you know. Lord, no, not a bit of it! You’ll come back some day—Ishmael too—and then there’ll be the deuce to pay by some of them." He was running a few paces away, then stepping back again. "Why don’t you go? I’m going, anyway! It’s a race for life or death to-night, my boy! Such fun! I’ll beat the brutes! Didn’t I tell you to leave everything to Hafiz? I said you couldn’t depend on a better man." "Hafiz!" "Good-night, old chap! Good-night, Charlie! Charlie Gordon Lord has been a good old chum to me, but damn it all, I’m going to be quits with him!" With that he went bounding away, laughing and crying and swearing and sobbing at the same time, and in a moment he had disappeared in the darkness. *CHAPTER XV* Being left alone, Gordon looked up at the Citadel and saw that a light was burning in the window of Helena’s sitting-room. That sight brought back the choking sense of shame which he had felt some days before at the thought of leaving Helena behind him. "I cannot go without seeing her," he thought. "It is impossible—utterly impossible."