Happy Mr.
Stuart lay upon the pebbles with his back against the ribs of his camel, and chuckled consumedly at some joke which those busy little cell-workers had come across in their repairs.

His fat face was wreathed and creased with merriment.

But the others, how sick, how heart-sick, were they all! The women cried.

The men turned away in that silence which is beyond tears.

Monsieur Fardet fell upon his face, and shook with dry sobbings.
The Arabs were firing their rifles as a welcome to their friends, and the others as they trotted their camels across the open returned the salutes and waved their rifles and lances in the air.