He Finds Himself in Deep Waters
"Madame!" He was dazed by her manner; he could not credit the evidence of his senses as to the tenderness of her tone, as to the light that glowed in her eyes.
No; he told himself his wish had been father to his thought. He had misunderstood. He looked away.
"Listen," he said rapidly; "this is me plan: At the mouth of the Wadi Saglat, madame, there lies beached one of the catamaran rafts which the Eirene left behind her when she sailed. It will accommodate six at the most. We shall make for that; if we gain it, ye will go aboard with Monsieur l'Empereur and Mouchon. There is a sail,—maybe a breeze."
"But as for you, monsieur?" she demanded.
"I remain with me men to cover your retreat. No—don't dispute. 'Tis the only way."
She bowed her head, apparently yielding; but in her heart she was determined implacably that she would not desert this man who offered so debonnairely to lay down his life for her.
O'Rourke stepped to the western edge of the oasis; from the indications of the Tawarek fire he made little doubt but that practically all of the enemy's forces were massing in the east, as Mahmud had reported. Already his own men were gathering and making ready for the dash to the sea.
The adventurer found himself worried with a vague uneasiness unconnected with the desperate situation that menaced his comrades and the woman he loved. It was not that he was himself frightened, or that he feared death: death was his ultimate portion, a soldier's inevitable fate; he was prepared to accept it uncomplainingly, when it should come. But there seemed to be something awry with the day; its very atmosphere hung motionless, lifeless, indefinitely depressing. It struck him that the heat seemed more sultry even than usual.
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