After an hour’s cautious dodging from shelter to shelter, through the masses of rocks, they toiled up the great ridge of hills deep into the desert.  Rachel would have gone on and on, but Kenkenes drew her into the shadow of a great rock and stopped to listen.  The oppressive silence was unbroken.  Far and near only gray wastes of hills heaved in heated solitude about them.

“Sit here in the shadow and rest,” he said, turning to the weary girl beside him.  “I shall keep watch.”

He cleared a space for her among the debris at the base of the great fragment and pressed her down in the place he had made.  Next he undid his belt and fastened Anubis to a boulder, too heavy for the ape to move.  The animal resented the confinement, and Kenkenes, tying him by force, found in the forepaws the collar of golden rings.  With a murmur of satisfaction, the young man reclaimed the necklace and thrust it into the bosom of his dress.

When he arose the day grew dark before him, and he was obliged to steady himself against the rock till the vertigo passed.  His assailants had hurt him more than he had thought.  But he took up his vigil and maintained it faithfully till all sense of danger had vanished.

Rachel, who had been watching his face, touched his hand at last, and bade him rest.  The invitation was welcome and with a sigh he sank down beside her.

“Lie down,” she said softly.  “Thou hast been most cruelly misused.  And all for me!”

Obediently, he slipped from a sitting to a recumbent posture.  She put out her arm, and supporting him, seemed about to take his head into her lap.  Instead, she slipped the mantle from the strap that bound it across his shoulders, and rolling it swiftly, made a pillow of it for his head.

The wallet that had hung by the same strap over his shoulder, attracted her attention and she guessed that it had been used as a carrier for provision.  She laid it open and took out the water-bottle.  The pith-stopper had held, during all the violent motion, and the dull surface of the porous and ever-cooling pottery was cold and wet.

She put the bottle to his lips and, after he had drunk, bathed his bruises most tenderly.

Succumbing to the gentle influence of her fingers, he put up his hands to take them, but they moved out of his reach in the most natural manner possible.  He could not feel that she had purposely avoided his touch, but he made no further attempt when the soothing fingers returned.  Finally he raised himself on his elbow and supported his head in his hand.

“Now am I new again,” he said; “once more ready to help thee.  Let us take counsel together and get into safety and comfort.”  He paused a moment till his serious words would not follow with unseeming promptness upon his light tone.

“I know thy trouble, Rachel,” he began again soberly.  “There is no need that thou shouldst hurt thyself by the telling.  But there are details which would be helpful in aiding thee if I had them in mind.  Thou knowest better than I. Wilt thou aid me?”