“I munched the light cake, which was really excellent, and asked her:—­’Did you make that?’

“‘Yes.’

“‘For me?’

“‘Yes, for you.’

“‘To enable me to support Ramadan?’

“‘Oh!  Don’t be so unkind!  I will bring you some every day.’

“Oh! the terrible month that I spent!  A sugared, insipidly sweet month; a month that nearly drove me mad; a month of spoiling and of temptation, of anger and of vain efforts against an invincible resistance, but at last the three days of Beiram came, which I celebrated in my own fashion, and Ramadan was forgotten.

“The summer went on, and it was very hot, and in the first days of autumn, Allouma appeared to me to be pre-occupied and absent-minded, and, seemingly, taking no interest in anything, and, at last, when I sent for her one evening, she was not to be found in her room.  I thought that she was roaming about the house, and I gave orders to look for her.  She had not come in, however, and so I opened my window, and called out:—­

“‘Mohammed,’ and the voice of the man, who was lying in his tent, replied:—­

“‘Yes, mo’ssieuia.’

“‘Do you know where Allouma is?’

“‘No, mo’ssieuia ... it is not possible ... is Allouma lost?’

“A few moments later, my Arab came into my room, so agitated that he could not master his feelings, and I said: 

“‘Is Allouma lost?’

“‘Yes, she is lost.’

“‘It is impossible.’

“‘Go and look for her,’ I said.

“He remained standing where he was, thinking, seeking for her motives, and unable to understand anything about it.  Then he went into the empty room, where Allouma’s clothes were lying about, in oriental disorder.  He examined everything, as if he had been a police officer, or, rather, he smelt like a dog, and then, incapable of a lengthened effort, he murmured, resignedly:—­

“‘She has gone, she has gone!’

“I was afraid that some accident had happened to her; that she had fallen into some ravine and sprained herself, and I immediately sent all the men about the place off with orders to look for her until they should find her, and they hunted for her all that night, all the next day, and all the week long, but nothing was discovered that could put us upon her track.  I suffered, for I missed her very much; my house seemed empty, and my existence a void.  And then, disgusting thoughts entered my mind.  I feared that she might have been carried off, or even murdered, but when I spoke about it to Mohammed, and tried to make him share my fears, he invariably replied: 

“‘No; gone away.’

“Then he added the Arab word r’ezale, which means gazelle, as if he meant to say that she could run quickly, and that she was far away.

“Three weeks passed, and I had given up all hopes of seeing my Arab mistress again, when one morning Mohammed came into my room, with every sign of joy in his face, and said to me: