The sentries who saw and recognised Veitl-
du-Paradit were astonished. The orders
against any man, even an officer, leaving the
fort after midnight and before sunrise, were
imperative. But, granting the necessity for
what almost seemed a forlorn -hope rider,
why should the emissary be the Colonel hlm-



t mU?



148 The Coward.
Unheeding their probable qaestionings among
themselves. Colonel Le Marchant rode steadily
forward. He knew that the journey would
occupy nearly an hour, for though Sidi Khalifo
was at no great distance, the old Roman ruins
where he was to meet Xakhala were to the
north-west of the oasis, anc^ had to be reached
by a circuitous detour. He had to ride care-
fully, for not only did the route lie across a
rough, uneven, and occasionally dangerously
ra\'ined country, but there was momentary
peril of a surprise on the part of stray followers
or would-be adherents of Bou-Amama.
When, at last, he drew rein close to a con-
fused heap of fallen columns and blocks, he
felt as though he had already almost succeeded
in his enterprise. Dismounting, he listened
awhile intently. Then, satisfied that he was
alone, he secured the mare, and leaned against
one of the three or four ruined columns still
standing. He knew he was before the ap-
pointed time, but he could not refrain from the
hope that Xakhala would be consumed by a
feverish impatience equal to his own. Still,
the time passed as if it were water oozed drop
by drop from an almost closed crevice.
I



*



The Coward. 149

Colonel Le Marchant was a brave man.
