Finally we reached it.
It was empty.
It is a strange sensation to be dying of thirst. At first the suffering is terrible. Then, gradually, it becomes less. You become partly unconscious. Ridiculous little things about your life occur to you, fly about you like mosquitoes. I began to remember my history composition for the entrance examination of Saint-Cyr, "The Campaign of Marengo." Obstin
ately I repeated to myself, "I have already said that the battery unmasked by Marmont at the moment of Kellerman's charge included eighteen pieces.... No, I remember now, it was only twelve pieces. I am sure it was twelve pieces."
I kept on repeating:
"Twelve pieces."
Then I fell into a sort of coma.
I was recalled from it by feeling a red-hot iron on my forehead. I opened my eyes. Tanit-Zerga was bending over me. It was her hand which burnt so.
"Get up," she said. "We must go on."
"Go on, Tanit-Zerga! The desert is on fire. The sun is at the zenith. It is noon."