Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1900-09-20

at last. Without preparation he was
to be hurled out of life into the great
Unknown beyond. In five minutes
more he would be beyond all hope of
rescue or escape-he would be in etel-
nifty.
Only those who have seen death thus
suddenly near at hand know how dear
life is to all. THE weariest and most
loathed worldly life" becomes the
most precious of all possessions, be-
cause to lose it is to lose all that we
have ever been familiar with.
Thus Cleland felt for a moment;
but it was only for moment.
One thought of Margaret-rare, pale
Margaret. soon to be separated from
him more completely than ever she
had been by the ''unplumbed, salt,
estrsnging sea"-who might never
even hear OF his death; one passion
ate, mute farewell-"Good-by my
love, my one, first and last love. We
shall meet some day, some day, Mar.
garet'-and then his thoughts were
turned to the solemn moment before
him.
My God, l commit myself into Thy
hands. Thou wilt keep me, for | have
trusted in Thee" The wordless pray
er in his heart might so have been
translated.
They were at the gallows now. One
OF the dervishes held Cleland, while
the other skilfully threw a long strand
OF brown rope into a moose 1t was fin
ished; he was just about to throw it
over Cleland's neck, when
A wild shrek broke on the sultry
air, the sound of galloping horses ac.
ccmpanied 1t; and Cleland, looking I'D.
saw many-colored flags and banners
foating on the air. At the same mo-
mcnt Osman's voice was heard calling
something in Arabic. At the sound
the dervish who held the rope dropped
it, and turned from Cleland with Q
scowl.
The next moment Osman himself
approached.
1T Is the will of Allah you should
be spared just now" he said, address
ing Cleland. Then to the dervishes:
Take him back to the hut"
But Cleland, unable to stand any
longer from sheer weakness, had
dropped on the ground. They lifted
him up and carried him to the hut,
where he was chained to huge
stone. Presently he recovered himself
a little, and was able to get up to his
feet.
Then he was conscious of a grea,
noise outside-braying of donkeys.
stamping Of horses feet, the shrill
cries OF Arabs, the sound of camels'
heavy tread. 1t lasted for about ten
minutes, then suddenly ceased, and
perfect silence succeeded it
1t reigned so long that Cleland felt
vaguely uneasy. He moved at last
slowly across the hut, and, by push
ing away some of the brushwood. was
able to look out.
The place was deserted! There was
not tent, donkey, a camel, or an
Arab to be seen. He was alone-alone
and chained up like dog, with little
or no hope Of being able to release
himself.
Even If he could, what then? He
knew he was at Metemmeh, in the
heart of the desert, without food or
drink. Even if he were free could he
ever find his way to the British camp?
He had no idea as to where they were:
he had not even heard that they were
again on the move.
Despair came to Cleland. It would
have been better if they had killed him
at once. Swift death was to be pre-
ferred to this fearful thought of diving
inch by inch.
Still, he must do something rather
than lie down In inaction and DESPAIR.
He would try to file away his chain
that bound him.
1t was five days later when tho
Anglo-Egyptian troops march g d
through Metemmeh on their south
ward way.
"A town of the dead! But, good
heavens! what is that, Reid?" ex-
claimed Colonel Beauchamp, as he
rode by the side of one of his subal-
terms, pointing to the hut. II could
almost fancy there seems to me some
thing like man lying there on thu
sand!"
A moment later the command
Halt" was given: the moving mas
of camels and men came to a dead
stop. The colonel and his subaltern
dismounted and ran up to the hut.
True enough, there was a man in
British attire, lying there on his face.
They turned him over; the colonel ut
tered startled exclamation"
"Oh, God! it's Paul Cleland!"
He was to all appearances dead.
They raised him up, poured brandy
and-water down his throat, and had
at last the satisfaction of hearing hin,
sigh family.
Ito be continued)