CHAPTER XIII.

M. Périères was riding on the flank of the column when his eyes fell on a man of the rear-guard, whose arms and hands were covered with blood. He thought he was wounded, and, going up to him, asked him how it had happened.

"I am not wounded," sulkily replied the Nubian.

"How, then, come your hands to be covered with blood?"

"It is my slave's blood, not mine."

"Your slave! You have a slave? Who gave her to you, or where did you get hold of her?"

"I bought her," replied the soldier, with an air of pride.

"Since we started? In that case you have been guilty of disobedience to orders. We have expressly forbidden all traffic in slaves as far as this caravan is concerned."

"I have not disobeyed your orders. The woman was mine long ago; she had accompanied me in many of my expeditions, and Nassar allowed me to bring her with me."

"Where is she?"

"Down there, in that thicket we have just passed."

"Why does she stay behind? You have been ill-using her, I suppose."

"No; I have cut her head off," replied the soldier, quite simply, as if the beheading of a slave were the most natural thing in the world.

"Wretch!" exclaimed M. Périères, seizing him by the arm, and compelling him to stop.

The Nubian did not in the least understand this indignation. He possessed a slave who was bound to follow him, to carry his baggage, grind his corn, and work for him during the journey.

This woman ran away, and, as it was a first offence, he contented himself with thrashing her; on the following day she ran away again, and then he killed her, feeling convinced that, if he spared her life, she would abscond once more, and his property would pass from him to somebody else.

M. Périères ordered a general halt whilst he sent the two interpreters to the thicket pointed out by the Nubian, with orders to find out whether the slave were really killed, and, if so, to bury her.

Omar and Ali returned very quickly with the intelligence that they had found the corpse at the place indicated.

The Europeans then held a consultation, and decided that the culprit should receive a hundred lashes on the spot, in sight of the whole caravan.

But the punishment alone was not enough; it was necessary to explain why it was inflicted. The Arabs and Nubians could never have understood that any one of them ought to be chastised for simply, as in this case, making away with his own property.

The interpreters were, therefore, to explain generally that the soldier had been punished for shedding the blood, not of his slave, but of a member of the expedition, and that for the future the crime of murder, under whatever circumstances it might be committed, would carry with it the penalty of death.

Having thus established a precedent and promulgated a law, the caravan moved on.

Beginning the day at about four o'clock in the morning, the bearers had enough of it by noon, so that at that hour, and sometimes earlier, the halting-place for the night was reached. As a rule the Europeans, except when the stages of the journey happened to have been more than ordinarily long, did not retire to rest before nine or ten o'clock, the evening being occupied in chatting about their plans, questioning Nassar as to what had gone on during the day, and arranging the route for the morrow.

Madame de Guéran was the life and soul of these evenings, and when she chanced to retire early, everybody followed her example except MM. de Morin and Delange, who seized that opportunity of devoting themselves to écarté, bezique, or piquet. They had played about a hundred _parties_, and were quits, as far as play during the journey was concerned. The back debt remained at the same figure; the Doctor could not achieve any reduction in his floating liability, but at all events, it did not increase, and his bad luck was not sticking to him as it had done in Paris. Consequently he looked hopefully forward to the future, and, so far from being in despair about wiping off the old score, he thought he had the chance of turning the balance considerably in his own favour. This prospect enabled him to put up with the monotony of the journey, and kept him in good spirits.

Though he thought Madame de Guéran everything that was charming, he had the good sense to understand that falling in love with her would be mere waste of time. He was careful, therefore, not to follow in the footsteps of his friends, and, in the hours of relaxation he devoted himself to sentimental conversation with Miss Beatrice Poles, taking care, with his habitual prudence, not to look at her lest her physical aspect should detract from her moral and intellectual qualities.