ahar. 'The mirage is always there.'

"They rode forward. That night they camped near Sidi-Okba. At dinner,
while the stars came out, they talked of the mirage, and mademoiselle
still insisted that it was a mirage of a horseman bearing something
before him on his saddle-bow, and riding as if for life. And Tahar said
again:

"'Mademoiselle dreams!'

"As he spoke he looked at her with a mysterious intentness, which she
noticed. That night, in her little camp-bed, round which the desert
winds blew mildly, she did indeed dream. And her dream was of the magic
forms that ride on magic horses through mirage.

"The next day, at dawn, the caravan of the Parisians went on its way,
winding farther into the desert. In leaving Sidi-Okba they left behind
them the last traces of civilisation--the French man and woman who keep
the auberge in the orange garden there. To-day, as they journeyed, a
sense of deep mystery flowed upon the heart of mademoiselle. She felt
that she was a little cockle-shell of a boat which, accustomed hitherto
only to the Seine, now set sail upon a mighty ocean. The fear of the
Sahara came upon her."

My companion paused. His face was grave, almost stern.

"And her relations?" I asked. "Did they feel----"

"Haven't an idea what they felt," he answered curtly.

"But how do you know that mademoiselle

"You'll understand at the end of the story. As they journeyed in the
sun across the endless flats--for the mountains had vanished now, and
nothing broke the level of the sand--mademoiselle's gaiety went from
her. Silent was the lively, chattering tongue that knew the jargon of
cities, the gossip of the Plage. She was oppressed. Tahar rode close at
her side. He seemed to have taken her under his special protection. Far
before them rode the attendants, chanting deep love songs in the sun.
The sound of those songs seemed like the sound of the great desert
singing of its wild and savage love to the heart of mademoiselle. At
first her brother-in-law and sister bantered her on her silence, but
Tahar stopped them, with a curious authority.

"'The desert speaks to mademoiselle,' he said in her hearing. 'Let her
listen.'

"He watched her continually with his huge eyes, and she did not mind
his glance, though she began to feel irritated and restless under the
observation of her relations.

"Towards noon Tahar again described mirage. As he pointed it out he
stared fixedly at mademoiselle.

"The two other Parisia