“‘What does mademoiselle see?’ asked Tahar quickly.
“‘Why, a sort of faint landscape, through which a man—an Arab, I suppose—is riding, towards Sidi—what is it?—Sidi-Okba! He’s got something in front of him, hanging across his saddle.’
“Her relations looked at her in amazement.
“‘I only see houses standing on the edge of water,’ said her sister.
“‘And I!’ cried the husband.
“‘Houses and water,’ assented Tahar. ‘It is always so in the mirage of Sidi-Okba.’
“‘I see no houses, no water,’ cried mademoiselle, straining her eyes. ‘The Arab rides fast, like the wind. He is in a hurry. One would think he was being pursued. Why, now he’s gone!’
“She turned to her companions. They saw still the fairy houses of the mirage standing in the haze on the edge of the fairy water.
“‘But,’ mademoiselle said impatiently, ‘there’s nothing at all now—only sand.’
“‘Mademoiselle dreams,’ said Tahar. ‘The mirage is always there.’