Sana dismounted, looking about for some trace of Carl, whom she had seen felled with the blow of the caveman’s club. No sign of him was to be seen, but she presently became aware of a figure kneeling before a cross of charred timbers. She saw it was a woman, and walking quickly towards her gave voice to the cry, “Mother!” At the sound the woman took her hands from her face, and rising to her feet, shrieked, “Sana, my Sana!” Mother and daughter embraced each other, tears in their eyes, murmuring words of endearment. Sana, at last, eager for news of Carl, asked her mother whether she had seen or heard of him. In response the mother pointed to the cross--to which was pinned a note. Sana, stricken with fear that Carl was beneath the ruins, rushed to the cross, and taking the paper in her hand, read: HERE LIES MY BELOVED SANA VON SECKT REST IN PEACE CARL “Then he is alive?” turning to her mother with eager eyes. “Yes, beloved, he is alive. He is now on the great desert. He thought you dead and came to tell me. Then he went away.” De Rochelle, still weak and exhausted, had gotten from the horse, and came over to Sana. “Sana, I did not believe you would ever do me the kindness you did. Please forgive me for what I have done. It was I who set fire to this place. I realized that harm might come to you through Amshied, so I set fire to the house, thinking I could help you in that way. I saw the savages take you away, and tried to follow, but fell exhausted. Please, forgive me, Sana, won’t you?” Without a word Sana turned away. Plead he might, but her forgiveness he would never have. The water she gave him on the desert, she felt, repaid him well enough--had she refused it, he would now have been claimed by the sun and the sand as their own. And in her woman’s mind she knew that he had more to do with the escapade at the home of Amshied than he cared to tell. Safe at home that night she wrote Carl at his New York address, telling him that she was alive. CHAPTER IX ON CAMEL’S BACK THROUGH THE SAHARA Meanwhile at sunrise on the day of his departure, Carl had gone to the market place to join the caravan. Among the crowd that gathered there, at the very time the caravan set out, he found Sana’s mother, who had come to bid him goodbye. From one of the tourists he learned that the caravan would lead over Tandini and Tenduf to Mogador in Morocco. This, he recalled, was the route followed by the crusaders of Islam, when they wandered through the desert lands, to preach Mohammedism with fire and sword. The caravan itself consisted of some twenty-five racing camels, the true ships of the desert, capable of making from sixty to eighty miles a day. Besides these there were four freight camels, each loaded with about four hundred pounds of food and water, the latter being especially important, as for days they would not pass any wells.