Besides, they have plenty to do attending to the wounded.
Up to the now open door of the _marabout's_ tomb rushes a figure that has leaped from a horse.
"_Mon Dieu!_ tell me, are you safe, ze ladies also ?" gasps this party.
It is Monsieur Constans.

He has faithfully carried out his part of the contract, and is warmly greeted by those whom the coming of the zouaves has saved.
Lady Ruth is pale--she has looked upon sights such as are not usually seen by her sex--sights that make strong men shudder until they become battle hardened, for war is always cruel and bloody.
"Let us get to the hotel as soon as possible," she says to Aunt Gwen.
"My goodness, are you going to faint ?" exclaims that good soul.
"Oh, no, I don't think so, but the sooner I am at the hotel the better," replies the girl.
"There comes John Craig.

He has been talking with the officer in command of the soldiers, and I guess has made some sort of arrangements for us." What Aunt Gwen says is true enough, for John leads them to captured horses, and ere long they are moving in the direction of Algiers, escorted by a detachment of the zouaves on foot.
Their trials for the night are over, but they will never forget what they have seen and endured.

John is secretly fuming, as he ponders over the facts.

If he could only prove that Sir Lionel is the direct cause of all this trouble, he would demand satisfaction from the Briton in some shape.