The stars are starting to shine whitely against the dark sky, and the cool night wind is starting to blow stronger over the desert. It blows against the thin film of sweat on the struggling men, becoming so cold that they shiver. It feels to D’Arlan as if the sand underneath his feet had suddenly turned to water. It feels to him as if it is swelling up and then falling away once more from underneath him because he is light-headed. Every time Jack Ritchie and Fritz Mundt feel the coupling ropes draw tight because of D’Arlan’s swaying and staggering between them.
“How are you feeling, Capitaine?” Fritz Mundt asks after they have been walking for half an hour.
Capitaine“I am sorry, mon ami,” D’Arlan says softly, but I do not think I can walk any further. I, I cannot continue…”
mon amiThe n
