ns exclaimed that they saw forest trees, a running
stream, a veritable oasis, where they longed to rest and eat their
_dejeuner_.

"'And mademoiselle?' said Tahar. 'What does she see?'

"She was gazing into the distance. Her face was very pale, and for a
moment she did not answer. Then she said:

"'I see again the Arab bearing the burden before him on the saddle. He
is much clearer than yesterday. I can almost see his face----'

"She paused. She was trembling.

"'But I cannot see what he carries. It seems to float on the wind, like
a robe, or a woman's dress. Ah! _mon Dieu!_ how fast he rides!'

"She stared before her as if fascinated, and following with her eyes
some rapidly-moving object. Suddenly she shut her eyes.

"'He's gone!' she said.

"'And now--mademoiselle sees?' said Tahar.

"She opened her eyes.

"'Nothing.'

"'Yet the mirage is still there,' he said.

"'Valerie,' cried her sister, 'are you mad that you see what no one else
can see, and cannot see what all else see?"

"'Am I mad, Tahar?' she said gravely, almost timidly, to the dragoman.

"And the fear of the Sahara came again upon her.

"'Mademoiselle sees what she must,' he answered. 'The desert speaks to
the heart of mademoiselle.'

"That night there was moon. Mademoiselle could not sleep. She lay in her
narrow bed and thought of the figure in the mirage, while the moonbeams
stole in between the tent pegs to keep her company. She thought of
second sight, of phantoms, and of wraiths. Was this riding Arab, whom
she alone could see, a phantom of the Sahara, mysteriously accompanying
the caravan, and revealing himself to her through the medium of the
mirage as if in a magic mirror? She turned restlessly upon her pillow,
saw the naughty moonbeams, got up, and went softly to the tent door.
All the desert was bathed in light. She gazed out as a mariner gazes
out over the sea. She heard jackals yelping in the distance, peevish
in their insomnia, and fancied their voices were the voices of desert
demons. As she stood there she thought of the figure in the mirage, and
wondered if mirage ever rises at night--if, by chance, she might see
it now. And, while she stood wondering, far away across the sand there
floated up a silvery haze, like a veil of spangled tissue--exquisite for
a ball robe, she said long after!--and in this haze she saw again the
phantom Arab galloping upon his horse. But now he was clear in the moon.
Furiously he rode, like a t