After two hours had been passed in moving slowly to and fro, hearing the word "Akka" and seeing nothing but gray sand, Sailor Bill began to feel weary, and now regretted that the old sheik had honored him with his confidence.

For the first hour of his watch he had kept a good lookout to the eastward, and had given the whole of his attention to his sentinel's duty.

Gradually his intense alertness forsook him, and he began to think of the past and future.

Themes connected with these subjects seldom troubled Bill,—his thoughts generally dwelling upon the present; but, in the darkness and solitude in which he was now placed, there was but little of the present to arrest his attention. For the want of something else to amuse his mind, it was turned to the small cannon he was carrying in his hand.

"This 'ere thing," thought he, "aint o' much use as a pistol, though it might be used as a war-club at close quarters. I hope I shan't 'ave to fire it hoff. The barrel is thin, and the bullet hinside it must be a'most as large as an 'en's heg. It ud be like enough to bust. Preaps 't aint loaded, and may 'ave been given to me for amusement. I may as well make sure about that."

After groping about for some time, the sailor succeeded in finding a small piece of stick, with which he measured the length of the barrel on the outside; then, by inserting the stick into the muzzle, he found that the depth of the barrel was not quite equal to its length.

There must be something inside therefore, but he was positive there was no ball. He next examined the pan, and found the priming all right.

"I see 'ow 'tis," muttered he, "the old sheik only wants me to make a row with it, in case I sees anything as is suspicious. He was afeard to put a ball in it lest I should be killin' one of themselves. That's his confidence. He on'y wants me to bark without being able to bite. But this don't suit me at all, at all. Faix, I'll find a bit of a stone and ram it into the barrel."

Saying this he groped about the ground in search of a pebble of the proper size; but for some time could find none to his liking. He could lay his hand on nothing but the finest sand.

While engaged in this search he fancied he heard some one approaching from the side opposite to that in which he was expecting to hear the word "Akka."

He looked in that direction, but could see nothing save the gray surface of the sea-beach.

Since being on the desert Bill had several times observed the Arabs lay themselves along the earth to listen for the sound of footsteps. This plan he now tried himself.

With his eyes close to the ground, the old sailor fancied he was able to see to a greater distance than when standing upright. There seemed to be more light on the surface of the earth than at four or five feet above it; and objects in the distance were placed more directly between his eyes and the horizon.

While thus lying extended along the sand, he heard footsteps approaching from the shore; but, believing they were those of the sentinel, he paid no attention to them. He only listened for a repetition of those sounds he fancied to have come from the opposite direction.

But nothing was now heard to the eastward; and he came to the conclusion that he had been deceived by an excited fancy.

Of one thing, however, he soon became certain. It was, that the footsteps which he supposed to be those of the Arab who kept, what Bill called, the "larboard watch," were drawing nearer than usual, and that the word "Akka" was not pronounced as before.

The old sailor slewed himself around, and directed his gaze towards the shore.

The sound of footsteps was no longer heard, but the figure of a man was perceived at no great distance from the spot.

He was not advancing nearer, but standing erect, and apparently gazing sharply about him.

Could this man be the Arab sentinel?

The latter was known to be short and of slight frame, while the man now seen appeared tall and of stout build. Instead of remaining in his upright attitude, and uttering, as the sentry should have done, the word "Akka," the stranger was seen to stoop down, and place his ear close to the earth as if to listen.

During a moment or two while the man's eyes appeared to be turned away from him, the sailor took the precaution to fill the barrel of his pistol with sand.

Should he give the alarm by firing off the pistol, and then run towards the camp?

No! he might have been deceived by an excited imagination. The individual before him might possibly be the Arab guard trying to discover his presence before giving the sign.

While the sailor was thus undecided, the huge form drew nearer, approaching on all fours. It came within eight or ten paces of the spot, and then slowly assumed an upright position. Bill now saw it was not the sentinel but the black sheik!

The old man-o'-war's-man was never more frightened in his life. He thought of discharging the pistol, and running back to the douar; but then came the thought that he would certainly be shot down the instant he should rise to his feet; and fear held him motionless.

Golah drew nearer and nearer, and the sailor seeing the scimitar uplifted suddenly formed the resolution to act.

Projecting the muzzle of his huge pistol towards the black, he pulled the trigger, and at the same instant sprang to his feet.

There was a loud deafening report, followed by a yell of wild agony.

Bill stayed not to note the effect of his fire: but ran as fast as his legs would carry him towards the camp,—already alarmed by the report of the pistol.

The Arabs were running to and fro in terrible fear and confusion, shouting as they ran.

Amidst these shouts was heard,—in the direction from which the sailor had fled,—a loud voice frantically calling, "Muley! Muley!"

"'Tis the voice of Golah!" exclaimed the Krooman in Arabic. "He is calling for his son,—Muley is his son's name!"

"They are going to attack the douar," shouted the Arab sheik, and his words were followed by a scene of the wildest terror.

The Arabs rushed here and there, mingling their cries with those of the slaves; while women shrieked, children screamed, dogs barked, horses neighed, and even the quiet camels gave voice to their alarm.

In the confusion the two wives of Golah, taking their children along with them, hurried away from the camp, and escaped undiscovered in the darkness.

They had heard the voice of the father of their children, and understood that accent of anguish in which he had called out the name of his son.

They were women,—women who, although dreading their tyrant husband in his day of power, now pitied him in his hour of misfortune.

The Arabs, anxiously expecting the appearance of their enemy, in great haste made ready to meet him; but they were left unmolested.

In a few minutes all was quiet: not a sound was heard in the vicinity of the douar; and the late alarm might have appeared only a panic of groundless fear.

The light of day was gradually gathering in the east when the Arab sheik, recovering from his excitement, ventured to make an examination of the douar and its denizens.

Two important facts presented themselves as evidence, that the fright they had experienced was not without a cause. The sentry who had been stationed to guard the camp on its southern side was not present, and Golah's two wives and their children were also absent!

There could be no mystery about the disappearance of the women. They had gone to rejoin the man whose voice had been heard calling "Muley."

But where was the Arab sentry? Had another of the party fallen a victim to the vengeance of Golah?