"He does not know they are dead; he does not know it! Blessed be the name of the Lord! there is yet hope." He finished the sentence, and was strengthened by it, and went on bravely to the end of the letter.
"They are not dead," he said, after reflection; "they are not dead, or he would have heard of it." A second reading, more careful than the first, confirmed him in the opinion.

Then he sent for the sheik.
"In coming to your hospitable tent, O sheik," he said, calmly, when the Arab was seated and they were alone, "it was not in my mind to speak of myself further than to assure you I had sufficient training to be intrusted with your horses.

I declined to tell you my history.

But the chances which have sent this paper to my hand and given it to me to be read are so strange that I feel bidden to trust you with everything.

And I am the more inclined to do so by knowledge here conveyed that we are both of us threatened by the same enemy, against whom it is needful that we make common cause.
I will read the letter and give you explanation; after which you will not wonder I was so moved.