During the night's journey Golah still seemed to have some fear of the Arabs; and so great was his desire to place as much ground as possible between himself and them, that he did not halt, until the sun was more than two hours above the horizon.

For some time before a halt had been planned, Fatima, his favorite wife, had been riding by his side, and making, what seemed, from the excited movements of both, an important communication.

After the tents had been pitched, and food was about being served out, Golah commanded the mother of the boy carried by Colin to produce the bag of figs that had been intrusted to her keeping.

Trembling with apprehension, the woman rose to obey. The Krooman glanced at the white captives with an expression of horror; and although they had not understood Golah's command, they saw that something was going wrong.

The woman produced the bag; which was not quite half full. There were in it about two quarts of dried figs.

The figs that had been served out three days before at the dry well had been taken from another bag kept in the custody of Fatima.

The one now produced by the second wife should have been full: and Golah demanded to know why it was not.

The woman tremblingly asseverated that she and her children had eaten them.

At this confession Fatima uttered a scornful laugh, and spoke a few words that increased the terror of the delinquent mother,—at the same time causing the boy to commence howling with affright.

"I tell you so," said the Krooman, who was standing near the white slaves; "Fatima say to Golah, 'Christian dog eat the figs'; Golah kill him now; he kill da woman too."

In the opinion of those who travel the great desert, about the greatest crime that can be committed is to steal food or drink, and consume either unknown to their companions of the journey.

Articles of food intrusted to the care of any one must be guarded and preserved,—even at the expense of life.

Under no circumstances may a morsel be consumed, until it is produced in the presence of all, and a division, either equitable or otherwise, has been made.

Even had the story told by the woman been true, her crime would have been considered sufficiently great to have endangered her life; but her sin was greater than that.

She had bestowed favor upon a slave,—a Christian dog,—and had aroused the jealousy of her Mahometan lord and master.

Fatima seemed happy; for nothing less than a miracle could, in her opinion, save the life of her fellow-wife, who chanced to be a hated rival.

After drawing his scimitar from its sheath, and cocking his musket, Golah ordered all the slaves to squat themselves on the ground, and in a row.

This order was quickly comprehended and obeyed,—the whites seating themselves together at one end of the line.

Golah's son and the other guard—each with his musket loaded and cocked—were stationed in front of the row: and were ordered by the sheik to shoot any one who attempted to get up from the ground.

The monster then stepped up to Colin, and, seizing the young Scotchman by the auburn locks, dragged him a few paces apart from his companions. There, for a time, he was left alone.

Golah then proceeded to serve out some cheni to every individual on the ground; but none was given to the woman who had aroused his anger, nor to Colin.

In the sheik's opinion, to have offered them food would have been an act as foolish as to have poured it upon the sands.

Food was intended to sustain life, and it was not designed by him that they should live much longer. And yet it was evident from his manner that he had not quite determined as to how they were to die.

The two guards, with the muskets in their grasp, kept a sharp eye on the slaves, while Golah became engaged in a close consultation with Fatima.

"What shall we do?" asked Terence; "the old villain means mischief, and how can we prevent it? We must not let him kill poor Colly?"

"We must do something immediately," said Harry. "We have neglected it too long, and shall now have to act under the disadvantage of their being prepared for an attack. Bill, what should we do?"

"I was just thinking," said Bill, "that if we all made a rush at 'em, at the words One—two—three! not more 'n two or three of us might be killed afore we grappled with 'em. Now, this might do, if these black fellows would only jine us."

The Krooman here expressed himself as one willing to take his chance in any action they should propose, and believed that his countrymen would do the same. He feared, however, that the other blacks could not be trusted, and that any proposal he might make to them would be in a language the two guards would understand.

"Well, then," said Harry, "there will be six of us against three. Shall I give the word?"

"All right!" said Terence, drawing his feet under his body, by way of preparation for rising suddenly.

The scheme was a desperate one, but all seemed willing to undertake it.

Since leaving the well, they had felt convinced that life and liberty depended on their making a struggle; though circumstances seemed to have forced that struggle upon them when there was the least hope of success.

"Now all make ready," muttered Harry, speaking in a calm voice, so as not to excite the attention of the guards. "One!"

"Stop!" exclaimed Colin, who had been listening attentively to all that was said. "I'm not with you. We should all be killed. Two or three would be shot, and the sheik himself could finish all the rest with his scimitar. It is better for him to kill me, if he really means to do so, than to have all four destroyed in the vain hope of trying to save one."

"It is not for you alone that we are going to act," interposed Harry. "It is as much for ourselves."

"Then act when there is a chance of succeeding," pursued Colin. "You cannot save me, and will only lose your own lives."

"De big black sheik am going to kill someb'dy, dat berry sure," said the Krooman, as he sat with his eyes fixed upon Golah.

The latter was still in consultation with Fatima, his face wearing an expression that was horrible for all except herself to behold. Murder by excruciating torture seemed written on every feature of his countenance.

The woman, upon whose manner of death they were deliberating, was in the act of caressing her children, apparently conscious that she had but a few minutes more to remain in their company. Her features wore an expression of calm and hopeless resignation, as if she had yielded herself up to the decree of an inevitable fate.

The third wife had retired a short distance from the others. With her child in her arms, she sat upon the ground, contemplating the scene before her with a look of mingled surprise, curiosity, and regret.

From the appearance of the whole caravan, a stranger could have divined that some event of thrilling interest was about to transpire.

"Colin," cried Terence, encouragingly, "we won't sit here quietly, and see you meet death. We had better do something while yet we have a chance. Let Harry give the word."

"I tell you it's madness," expostulated Colin. "Wait till we see what he intends doing. Perhaps he'll keep me a while for future vengeance, and ye may have a chance of a rescue when there are not two men standing over us ready to blow our brains out."

Colin's companions saw there was truth in this remark, and for a while they waited in silence, with their eyes fixed upon the tent of the sheik.

They had not long to wait, for, soon after, Golah came forth, having finished his consultation with Fatima.

On his face appeared a hideous smile,—a smile that made most of those who beheld it shudder with a sensation of horror.