"Samuel, Samuel!" cried Kennedy, in a tremulous voice.
"What is it, Dick?"
"Is it a dream—is it possible?"
"What?"
"Wait a second;" and the Scot rapidly arranged the glasses and looked again.
"Well," said the doctor.
"'Tis he, Samuel!"
"He!" exclaimed the latter. They both said "he," there was no necessity to name him.
"'Tis he on horseback, and scarcely a hundred paces in advance of his enemies. He is flying from them."
"It is Joe, indeed," said the doctor, growing pale.
"He cannot see us in his flight," said Kennedy.
"He shall very soon see us, then," said the doctor, lowering the flame of the blow-pipe.
"How?"
"In five minutes we shall be within fifty feet of the ground, in fifteen close above him."
"I had better fire a shot to attract his attention."
"No, he cannot retrace his steps; he is cut off."
"What is to be done then?"
"Wait."
"Wait! with those Arabs there?"
"We shall catch them! We shall pass them! We are only two miles distant, and provided Joe's horse holds out."
"Great Heaven!" exclaimed Kennedy.
"What is it?"
Kennedy had uttered a cry of despair at beholding Joe thrown to the ground. His horse, evidently exhausted and worn out, fell beneath him.
"He sees us!" cried the doctor; "he raised his arm as a signal to us."
"But the Arabs will take him! what is he waiting for! Ah! the brave fellow! Hurrah!" cried Dick, who could no longer contain himself.
Joe had immediately jumped up after his fall, and at the moment when one of the foremost horsemen came riding down upon him, he bounded up like a panther, avoided his blow by a step aside, threw himself upon the horse, seized the Arab by the throat in his muscular hands, and strangled
