They all looked at one another.  Their relief had grown too poignant for words.

“Early start to-morrow,” Quest reminded them.

“Home and bed for me, this moment,” Laura declared.

“The camels,” the Professor assented, “will be round at daybreak.”

Lenora, a few nights later, looked down from the star-strewn sky which seemed suddenly to have dropped so much nearer to them, to the shadows thrown across the desert by the dancing flames of their fire.

“It is the same world, I suppose,” she murmured.

“A queer little place out of the same world,” Quest agreed.  “Listen to those fellows, how they chatter!”

The camel drivers and guides were sitting together in a little group, some distance away.  They had finished their supper and were chattering together now, swaying back and forth, two of them at least in a state of wild excitement.

“Whatever can they be talking about?” Laura asked.  “They sound as though they were going to fight every second.”

The Professor smiled.

“The last one was talking about the beauty of his fat lady friend,” he remarked drily.  “Just before, they were discussing whether they would be given any backsheesh in addition to their pay.  We are quite off the ordinary routes here, and these fellows aren’t much used to Europeans.”

Laura rose to her feet.

“I’m going to get a drink,” she announced.

The dragoman, who had been hovering around, bowed gravely and pointed towards the waterbottles.  Lenora also rose.

“I’m coming too,” she decided.  “It seems a sin to think of going to sleep, though.  The whole place is like a great silent sea.  I suppose this isn’t a dream, is it, Laura?”

“There’s no dream about my thirst, any way,” Laura declared.

She took the horn cup from the dragoman.

“Have some yourself, if you want to, Hassan,” she invited.

Hassan bowed gravely, filled a cup and drank it off.  He stood for a moment perfectly still, as though something were coming over him which he failed to understand.  Then his lips parted, his eyes for a moment seemed to shoot from out of his dusky skin.  He threw up his arms and fell over on his side.  Laura, who had only sipped her cup, threw it from her.  She, too, reeled for a moment.  The Professor and Quest came running up, attracted by Lenora’s shriek.

“They’re poisoned!” she cried.

“The Veedemzoo!” Quest shouted.  “My God!  Pull yourself together, Laura.  Hold up for a minute.”

He dashed back to their little encampment and reappeared almost immediately.  He threw Laura’s head back and forced some liquid down her throat.

“It’s camphor,” he cried.  “You’ll be all right, Laura.  Hold on to yourself.”

He swung round to where the dragoman was lying, forced his mouth open, but it was too late—­the man was dead.  He returned to Laura.  She stumbled to her feet.  She was pale, and drops of perspiration were standing on her forehead.  She was able to rise to her feet, however, without assistance.