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Show "All right," said Sir Claude. He swung himself off his mule, and walked up and down while the men put up the tent and picketed the beasts. He felt desperately lonely, almost as he had long years ago when he went to a public school for the first time, and cold-cold through all his body. Only his head was burning and his temples were throbbing. As he walked he stared at the mountains that encircled him, monstrous, cruel-looking shapes. He was not imaginative, but to-day they impressed him powerfully, almost terribly, and he remembered-again going back to his boyhood-how once as a child he had been left alone in the drawing-room on a dark, wet day, and had turned over the leaves of a great, red book which contained pictures of the circles of hell. In those pictures there were mountains like these, and hideous ravines guard- ,66 ed by rocks like gigantic teeth. And among the mountains and in the ravines the souls of the lost were imprisoned. It seemed to him then that the little boy in the drawing-room had seen in the book prophetic pictures, and he shivered. The Arabs began to sing as they worked. One of them wailed in a plaintive voice for two or three minutes. Then the others sang in chorus. Then the first voice wailed again alone. Presently the tent was up, and Achmed came to him smiling and carrying the guns. "I am ready, monsieur." "And the food?" "What will monsieur have?" "Anything-bread and cheese a bit of meat. But I'll have a before we start." He went over to the tent and |