The travellers had almost traversed the pathless plain when one day they saw a figure wandering in the distance, for in the desolate Sahara every object is visible to the very horizon if the whirlwind of dust does not conceal it from view.

The wanderer seemed doubtful of his course, sometimes taking this, sometimes that direction, and Antonia's eastern falcon eye could discern that it was no Arab, but a man in knightly garb.
"Oh, dear sister," exclaimed Heimbert, full of anxious joy, "then it is our poor Fadrique, who is in search of thee.

For pity's sake, let as hasten before he loses us, and perhaps at last his own life also, in this immeasurable waste." They strained every effort to reach the distant object, but it was now midday and the sun shone burningly upon them, Antonia could not long endure this rapid progress; added to which the fearful whirlwind soon arose, and the figure that had been scarcely visible before faded from their eyes, like some phantom of the mist in autumn.
With the rising moon they began anew to hasten forward, calling loudly upon the unfortunate wanderer, and fluttering white handkerchiefs tied to their walking-staffs, as signal flags, but it was all in vain.

The object that had disappeared remained lost to view.

Only a few giraffes sprang shyly past them, and the ostriches quickened their speed.
At length, as morning dawned, Antonia paused and said, "Thou canst not leave me, brother, in this solitude, and I cannot go a single step farther.