the garden of allah-第108部分

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She　said　it　for　herself；　to　reassure　herself；　to　give　a　little　comfort
to　her　own　soul。

〃To…night　I　feel　as　if　it　were　not　so；〃　he　answered。　〃When　we　came　to
the　hotel　it　seemedI　thought　that　I　could　not　go　on。〃

〃And　now？〃

〃Now　I　do　not　know　anything　except　that　this　is　my　last　night　with
you。　And；　Domini；　that　seems　to　me　to　be　absolutely　incredible
although　I　know　it。　I　cannot　imagine　any　future　away　from　you；　any
life　in　which　I　do　not　see　you。　I　feel　as　if　in　parting　from　you　I　am
parting　from　myself；　as　if　the　thing　left　would　be　no　more　a　man；　but
only　a　broken　husk。　Can　I　pray　without　you；　love　God　without　you？〃

〃Best　without　me。〃

〃But　can　I　live　without　you；　Domini？　Can　I　wake　day　after　day　to　the
sunshine；　and　know　that　I　shall　never　see　you　again；　and　go　on　living？
Can　I　do　that？　I　don't　feel　as　if　it　could　be。　Perhaps；　when　I　have
done　my　penance；　God　will　have　mercy。〃

〃How；　Boris？〃

〃Perhaps　He　will　let　me　die。〃

〃Let　us　fix　all　the　thoughts　of　our　hearts　on　the　life　in　which　He　may
let　us　be　together　once　more。　Look；　Boris；　there　are　lights　in　the
darkness；　there　will　always　be　lights。〃

〃I　can't　see　them；〃　he　said。

She　looked　at　him　and　saw　that　tears　were　running　down　his　cheeks。
Again；　on　this　last　night　of　companionship；　God　summoned　her　to　be
strong　for　him。　On　the　edge　of　the　hill；　close　to　them；　she　saw　a
Moorish　temple　built　of　marble；　with　narrow　arches　and　columns；　and
marble　seats。

〃Let　us　sit　here　for　a　moment；　Boris；〃　she　said。

He　followed　her　up　the　marble　steps。　Two　or　three　times　he　stumbled；
but　she　did　not　give　him　her　hand。　They　sat　down　between　the　slender
columns　and　looked　out　over　the　city；　whose　blanched　domes　and
minarets　were　faintly　visible　in　the　night。　Androvsky　was　shaken　with
sobs。

〃How　can　I　part　from　you？〃　he　said　brokenly。　〃How　am　I　to　do　it？　How
can　Ihow　can　I？　Why　was　I　given　this　love　for　you；　this　terrible
thing；　this　crying　out；　this　reaching　out　of　the　flesh　and　heart　and
soul　to　you？　DominiDominiwhat　does　it　all　meanthis　mystery　of
torturethis　scourging　of　the　bodythis　tearing　in　pieces　of　my　soul
and　yours？　Domini；　shall　we　knowshall　we　ever　know？〃

〃I　am　sure　we　shall　know；　we　shall　all　know　some　day；　the　meaning　of
the　mystery　of　pain。　And　then；　perhaps；　then　surely；　we　shall　each　of
us　be　glad　that　we　have　suffered。　The　suffering　will　make　the　glory　of
our　happiness。　Even　now　sometimes　when　I　am　suffering；　Boris；　I　feel
as　if　there　were　a　kind　of　splendour；　even　a　kind　of　nobility　in　what
I　am　doing；　as　if　I　were　proving　my　own　soul；　proving　the　force　that
God　has　put　into　me。　Boris；　let　usyou　and　Ilearn　to　say　in　all
this　terror；　'I　am　unconquered；　I　am　unconquerable。'〃

〃I　feel　that　I　could　say　that；　be　it　in　the　most　frightful
circumstances；　if　only　I　could　sometimes　see　youeven　far　away　as　now
I　see　those　lights。〃

〃You　will　see　me　in　your　prayers　every　day；　and　I　shall　see　you　in
mine。〃

〃But　the　cry　of　the　body；　Domini；　of　the　eyes；　of　the　hands；　to　see；
to　touchit's　so　fierce；　it's　soit's　so〃

〃I　know；　I　hear　it　too；　always。　But　there　is　another　voice；　which　will
be　strong　when　the　other　has　faded　into　eternal　silence。　In　all　bodily
things；　even　the　most　beautiful；　there　is　something　finite。　We　must
reach　out　our　poor；　feeble；　trembling　hands　to　the　infinite。　I　think
everyone　who　is　born　does　that　through　life；　often　without　being
conscious　of　it。　We　shall　do　it　consciously；　you　and　I。　We　shall　be
able　to　do　it　because　of　our　dreadful　suffering。　We　shall　want；　we
shall　have　to　do　it；　youwhere　you　are　going；　and　I〃

〃Where　will　you　be？〃

〃I　don't　know；　I　don't　know。　I　won't　think　of　the　afterwards　now；　in
these　last　few　hoursin　these　last〃

Her　voice　faltered　and　broke。　Then　the　tears　came　to　her　also；　and　for
a　while　she　could　not　see　the　distant　lights。

Then　she　spoke　again；　she　said：

〃Boris；　let　us　go　now。〃

He　got　up　without　a　word。　They　found　the　carriage　and　drove　back　to
Tunis。

When　they　reached　the　hotel　they　came　into　the　midst　of　the　American
tourists；　who　were　excitedly　discussing　the　dances　they　had　seen；　and
calling　for　cooling　drinks　to　allay　the　thirst　created　by　the　heat　of
the　close　rooms　of　Oriental　houses。

Early　next　morning　a　carriage　was　at　the　door。　When　they　had　got　into
it　the　coachman　looked　round。

〃Where　shall　I　drive　to；　Monsieur？〃

Androvsky　looked　at　him　and　made　no　reply。

〃To　El…Largani；〃　Domini　said。

〃To　the　monastery；　Madame？〃

He　whistled　to　his　horses　gaily。　As　they　trotted　on　bells　chimed　about
their　necks；　chimed　a　merry　peal　to　the　sunshine　that　lay　over　the
land。　They　passed　soldiers　marching；　and　heard　the　call　of　bugles；　the
rattle　of　drums。　And　each　sound　seemed　distant　and　each　moving　figure
far　away。　This　world　of　Africa；　fiercely　distinct　in　the　clear　air
under　the　cloudless　sky；　was　unreal　to　them　both；　was　vague　as　a
northern　land　wrapped　in　a　mist　of　autumn。　The　unreal　was　about　them。
Within　themselves　was　the　real。　They　sat　beside　each　other　without
speaking。　Words　to　them　now　were　useless　things。　What　more　had　they　to
say？　Everything　and　nothing。　Lifetimes　would　not　have　been　long　enough
for　them　to　speak　their　thoughts　for　each　other；　of　each　other；　to
speak　their　emotions；　all　that　was　in　their　minds　and　hearts　during
that　drive　from　the　city　to　the　monastery　that　stood　upon　the　hill。
Yet　did　not　their　mutual　action　of　that　morning　say　all　that　need　be
said？　The　silence　of　the　Trappists　surely　floated　out　to　them　over　the
plains　and　the　pale　waters　of　the　bitter　lakes　and　held　them　silent。

But　the　bells　on　the　horses'　necks　rang　always　gaily；　and　the
coachman；　who　would　presently　drive　Domini　back　alone　to　Tunis；
whistled　and　sang　on　his　high　seat。

Presently　they　came　to　a　great　wooden　cross　standing　on　a　pedestal　of
stone　by　the　roadside　at　the　edge　of　a　grove　of　olive　trees。　It　marked
the　beginning　of　the　domain　of　El…Largani。　When　Domini　saw　it　she
looked　at　Androvsky；　and　his　eyes　answered　her　silent　question。　The
coachman　whipped　his　horses　into　a　canter；　as　if　he　were　in　haste　to
reach　his　destination。　He　was　thinking　of　the　good　red　wine　of　the
monks。　In　a　cloud　of　white　dust　the　carriage　rolled　onwards　between
vineyards　in　which；　here　and　there；　labourers　were　working；　sheltered
from　the　sun　by　immense　straw　hats。　A　long　line　of　waggons；　laden　with
barrels　and　drawn　by　mules　covered　with　bells；　sheltered　from　the
flies　by　leaves；　met　them。　In　the　distance　Domini　saw　forests　of
eucalyptus　trees。　Suddenly　it　seemed　to　her　as　if　she　saw　Androvsky
coming　from　them　towards　the　white　road；　helping　a　man　who　was　pale；
and　who　stumbled　as　if　half…fainting；　yet　whose　face　was　full　of　a
fierce　passion　of　joythe　stranger　whose　influence　had　driven　him　out
of　the　monastery　into　the　world。　She　bent　down　her　head　and　hid　her
face　in　her　hands；　praying；　praying　with　all　her　strength　for　courage
in　this　supreme　moment　of　her　life。　But　almost　directly　the　prayers
died　on　her　lips　and　in　her　heart；　and　she　found　herself　repeating　the
words　of　/The　Imitation/：

〃Love　watcheth；　and　sleeping；　slumbereth　not。　When　weary　it　is　not
tired；　when　straitened　it　is　not　constrained；　when　frightened　it　is
not　disturbed；　but　like　a　vivid　flame　and　a　burning　torch　it　mounteth
upwards　and　securely　passeth　through　all。　Whosoever　loveth　knoweth　the
cry　of　this　voice。〃

Again　and　again　she　said　the　words：　〃It　securely　passeth　through　all
it　securely　passeth　through　all。〃　Now；　at　last；　she　was　to　know　the
uttermost　truth　of　those　words　which　she　had　loved　in　her　happiness；
which　she　clung　to　now　as　a　little　child　clings　to　its　father's　hand。

The　carriage　turned　to　the　right；　went　on　a　little　way；　then　stopped。

Domini　lifted　her　face　from　her　hands。　She　saw　before　her　a　great　door
which　stood　open。　Above　it　was　a　statue　of　the　Madonna　and　Child；　and
on　either　side　were　two　angels　with　swords　and　stars。　Underneath　was
written；　in　great　letters：

JANUA　COELI。

Beyond；　through　the　doorway；　she　saw　an　open　space　upon　which　the
sunlight　streamed；　three　palm　trees；　and　a　second　door　which　was　shut。
Above　this　second　door　was　written：

〃/Les　dames　n'entrent　pas　ici。/〃

As　she　looked　the　figure　of　a　very　old　monk　with　a　long　white　beard
shuffled　slowly　across　the　patch　of　sunlight　and　disappeared。

The　coachman　turned　round。

〃You　descend　here；〃　he　said　in　a　cheerful　voice。　〃Madame　will　be
entertained　in　the　parlour　on　the　right　of　the　first　door；　but
Monsieur　can　go　on　to　the　/hotellerie/。　It's　over　there。〃

He　pointed　with　his　whip　and　turned　his　back　to　them　again。

Domini　sat　quite　still。　Her　lips　moved；　once　more　repeating　the　words
of　/The　Imitation/。　Androvsky　got　up　from　his　seat；　stepped　heavily
out　of　the　carriage；　and　stood　beside　it。　The　coachman　was　busy
lighting　a　long　cigar。　Androvsky　leaned　forward　towards　Domini　with
his　arms　on　the　carriage　and　looked　at　her　with　tearless　eyes。

〃Domini；〃　at　last　he　whispered。　〃Domini！〃

Then　she　turned　to　him；　bent　towards　him；　put　her　hands　on　his
shoulders　and　looked　into　his　face　for　a　long　time；　as　if　she　were
trying　to　see　it　now　for　all　the　years　that　were　perhaps　to　come。　Her
eyes；　too；　were　tearless。

At　last　she　leaned　down　and　touched　his　forehead　with　her　lips。

She　said　nothing。　Her　hands　dropped　from　his　shoulders；　she　turned
away　and　her　lips　moved　once　more。

Then　Androvsky　moved　slowly　in　through　the　doorway　of　the　monastery；
crossed　the　patch　of　sunlight；　lifted　his　hand　and　rang　the　bell　at
the　second　door。

〃Drive　back　to　Tunis；　please。〃

〃Madame！〃　said　the　coachman。

〃Drive　back　to　Tunis。〃

〃Madame　is　not　going　to　enter！　But　Monsieur〃

〃Drive　back　to　Tunis！〃

Something　in　the　voice　that　spoke　to　him　startled　the　coachman。　He
hesitated　a　moment；　staring　at　Domini　from　his　seat；　then；　with　a
muttered　curse；　he　turned　his　horses'　heads　and　plied　the　whip
ferociously。

*　　　*　　　*　　　*　　　*　　　*

〃Love　watcheth。　and　sleeping；　slumbereth　not。　When　weary　it　is　not
tired。　When　wearyitis　nottired。〃

Domini's　lips　ceased　to　move。　She　could　not　speak　any　more。　She　could
not　even　pray　without　words。

Yet；　in　that　moment；　she　did　not　feel　alone。



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