noon
No foot-burnt wanderer in Sahara ever hailed his oasis with heartier thanksgiving ; but it was still a league and a half away . He addressed himself to the task of reaching it , and we may suppose Manuela respected his efforts . At any rate , there was silence between the pair for the better part of an hour -- what time the unwinking sun , vertically overhead , deprived them of so much as the sight of their own shadows , and drove the very crows with wings adust to skulk in the furrows . The shrilling of crickets , the stumbling hoofs of an overtaxed horse , and the creaking of saddle and girth made a din in the deadly stillness of this fervent noon , and , since there was no other sound to be heard , it is hard to tell how Manvers was aware of a traveller behind him , unless he was served by the sixth sense we all have , to warn as that we are not alone . Sure enough , when he looked over his shoulder , he was aware of a donkey and his rider drawing smoothly and silently near . The pair of them were so nearly of the colour of the ground , he had to look long to be sure ; and as he looked , Manuela suddenly leaned sideways and saw what he saw . It was just as if she had received a stroke of the sun .