"I was unhorsed, Mademoiselle, and somewhat beaten about the head, as is evident. I found shelter in a neighboring patch of mallow, where, after a season, I was joined by my friend here. The Beni M'Geel having departed, we watched their route as a matter of precaution for a mile or two, and then returned. We were unable to deal with the slab upon the cellar mouth."
This time his voice had been level enough, but he made his pause effective.
She gasped again.
"You left him there?"
He smiled.
"Yes, Mademoiselle, but not without rendering him assistance. Not being able to remove the stone, we merely dug another entrance. The outer earth was hard and baked, but after pecking off a few inches with our knives we fetched water from the river and easily softened it. We fashioned a couple of wooden shovels. Thus we dug down into the prison in an hour or two. We found the captain delirious."
"Yes?" she said again, eagerly. "You brought him away?"
"Mademoiselle forgets that we had no horses. Daoud remained with him. I walked to our nearest outpost—at Ain Djemma—to fetch assistance."
His tones were absolutely matter of fact, but some instinct of comprehension made her look at him yet more keenly and thus note the weariness which his voice could hide, but not his drawn features.
"You walked, how far?" she questioned.