the garden of allah-第19部分

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chair　standing　before　the　knives　and　forks；　and　the　white　cloth；　she
was　uncertain　whether　she　wished　it　to　be　filled　by　the　traveller　or
not。　She　felt　his　presence　in　Beni…Mora　as　a　warring　element。　That　she
knew。　She　knew　also　that　she　had　come　there　to　find　peace；　a　great
calm　and　remoteness　in　which　she　could　at　last　grow；　develop；　loose
her　true　self　from　cramping　bondage；　come　to　an　understanding　with
herself；　face　her　heart　and　soul；　andas　it　werelook　them　in　the
eyes　and　know　them　for　what　they　were；　good　or　evil。　In　the　presence
of　this　total　stranger　there　was　something　unpleasantly　distracting
which　she　could　not　and　did　not　ignore；　something　which　roused　her
antagonism　and　which　at　the　same　time　compelled　her　attention。　She　had
been　conscious　of　it　in　the　train；　conscious　of　it　in　the　tunnel　at
twilight；　at　night　in　the　hotel；　and　once　again　in　Count　Anteoni's
garden。　This　man　intruded　himself；　no　doubt　unconsciously；　or　even
against　his　will；　into　her　sight；　her　thoughts；　each　time　that　she　was
on　the　point　of　giving　herself　to　what　Count　Anteoni　called　〃the
desert　spirits。〃　So　it　had　been　when　the　train　ran　out　of　the　tunnel
into　the　blue　country。　So　it　had　been　again　when　she　leaned　on　the
white　wall　and　gazed　out　over　the　shining　fastnesses　of　the　sun。　He
was　there　like　an　enemy；　like　something　determined；　egoistical；　that
said　to　her；　〃You　would　look　at　the　greatness　of　the　desert；　at
immensity；　infinity；　God！Look　at　me。〃　And　she　could　not　turn　her
eyes　away。　Each　time　the　man　had；　as　if　without　effort；　conquered　the
great　competing　power；　fastened　her　thoughts　upon　himself；　set　her
imagination　working　about　his　life；　even　made　her　heart　beat　faster
with　some　thrill　ofwhat？　Was　it　pity？　Was　it　a　faint　horror？　She
knew　that　to　call　the　feeling　merely　repugnance　would　not　be　sincere。
The　intensity；　the　vitality　of　the　force　shut　up　in　a　human　being
almost　angered　her　at　this　moment　as　she　looked　at　the　empty　chair　and
realised　all　that　it　had　suddenly　set　at　work。　There　was　something
insolent　in　humanity　as　well　as　something　divine；　and　just　then　she
felt　the　insolence　more　than　the　divinity。　Terrifically　greater；　more
overpowering　than　man；　the　desert　was　yet　also　somehow　less　than　man；
feebler；　vaguer。　Or　else　how　could　she　have　been　grasped；　moved；
turned　to　curiosity；　surmise；　almost　to　a　sort　of　dreadall　at　the
desert's　expenseby　the　distant　moving　figure　seen　through　the
glasses？

Yes；　as　she　looked　at　the　little　white　table　and　thought　of　all　this；
Domini　began　to　feel　angry。　But　she　was　capable　of　effort；　whether
mental　or　physical；　and　now　she　resolutely　switched　her　mind　off　from
the　antagonistic　stranger　and　devoted　her　thoughts　to　the　priest；
whose　narrow　back　she　saw　down　the　room　in　the　distance。　As　she　ate
her　fisha　mystery　of　the　seas　of　Robertvilleshe　imagined　his　quiet
existence　in　this　remote　place；　sunny　day　succeeding　sunny　day；　each
one　surely　so　like　its　brother　that　life　must　become　a　sort　of　dream；
through　which　the　voice　of　the　church　bell　called　melodiously　and　the
incense　rising　before　the　altar　shed　a　drowsy　perfume。　How　strange　it
must　be　really　to　live　in　Beni…Mora；　to　have　your　house；　your　work
here；　your　friendships　here；　your　duties　here；　perhaps　here　too　the
tiny　section　of　earth　which　would　hold　at　the　last　your　body。　It　must
be　strange　and　monotonous；　and　yet　surely　rather　sweet；　rather　safe。

The　officers　lifted　their　heads　from　their　plates；　the　fat　man　stared；
the　priest　looked　quietly　up　over　his　napkin；　and　the　Arab　waiter
slipped　forward　with　attentive　haste。　For　the　swing　door　of　the
/salle…a…manger/　at　this　moment　was　pushed　open；　and　the　travellerso
Domini　called　him　in　her　thoughtsentered　and　stood　looking　with
hesitation　from　one　table　to　another。

Domini　did　not　glance　up。　She　knew　who　it　was　and　kept　her　eyes
resolutely　on　her　plate。　She　heard　the　Arab　speak；　a　loud　noise　of
stout　boots　tramping　over　the　wooden　floor；　and　the　creak　of　a　chair
receiving　a　surely　tired　body。　The　traveller　sat　down　heavily。　She
went　on　slowly　eating　the　large　Robertville　fish；　which　was　like
something　between　a　trout　and　a　herring。　When　she　had　finished　it　she
gazed　straight　before　her　at　the　cloth；　and　strove　to　resume　her
thoughts　of　the　priest's　life　in　Beni…Mora。　But　she　could　not。　It
seemed　to　her　as　if　she　were　back　again　in　Count　Anteoni's　garden。　She
looked　once　more　through　the　glasses；　and　heard　the　four　cries　of　the
Mueddin；　and　saw　the　pacing　figure　in　the　burning　heat；　the　Arab　bent
in　prayer；　the　one　who　watched　him；　the　flight。　And　she　was　indignant
with　herself　for　her　strange　inability　to　govern　her　mind。　It　seemed
to　her　a　pitiful　thing　of　which　she　should　be　ashamed。

She　heard　the　waiter　set　down　a　plate　upon　the　traveller's　table；　and
then　the　noise　of　a　liquid　being　poured　into　a　glass。　She　could　not
keep　her　eyes　down　any　more。　Besides；　why　should　she？　Beni…Mora　was
breeding　in　her　a　self…consciousnessor　a　too　acute　consciousness　of
othersthat　was　unnatural　in　her。　She　had　never　been　sensitive　like
this　in　her　former　life；　but　the　fierce　African　sun　seemed　now　to　have
thawed　the　ice　of　her　indifference。　She　felt　everything　with　almost
unpleasant　acuteness。　All　her　senses　seemed　to　her　sharpened。　She　saw；
she　heard；　as　she　had　never　seen　and　heard　till　now。　Suddenly　she
remembered　her　almost　violent　prayer〃Let　me　be　alive！　Let　me　feel！〃
and　she　was　aware　that　such　a　prayer　might　have　an　answer　that　would
be　terrible。

Looking　up　thus　with　a　kind　of　severe　determination；　she　saw　the　man
again。　He　was　eating　and　was　not　looking　towards　her；　and　she　fancied
that　his　eyes　were　downcast　with　as　much　conscious　resolution　as　hers
had　been　a　moment　before。　He　wore　the　same　suit　as　he　had　worn　in　the
train；　but　now　it　was　flecked　with　desert　dust。　She　could　not　〃place〃
him　at　all。　He　was　not　of　the　small；　fat　man's　order。　They　would　have
nothing　in　common。　With　the　French　officers？　She　could　not　imagine　how
he　would　be　with　them。　The　only　other　man　in　the　roomthe　servant　had
gone　out　for　the　momentwas　the　priest。　He　and　the　priestthey　would
surely　be　antagonists。　Had　he　not　turned　aside　to　avoid　the　priest　in
the　tunnel？　Probably　he　was　one　of　those　many　men　who　actively　hate
the　priesthood；　to　whom　the　soutane　is　anathema。　Could　he　find
pleasant　companionship　with　such　a　man　as　Count　Anteoni；　an　original
man；　no　doubt；　but　also　a　cultivated　and　easy　man　of　the　world？　She
smiled　internally　at　the　mere　thought。　Whatever　this　stranger　might　be
she　felt　that　he　was　as　far　from　being　a　man　of　the　world　as　she　was
from　being　a　Cockney　sempstress　or　a　veiled　favourite　in　a　harem。　She
could　not；　she　found；　imagine　him　easily　at　home　with　any　type　of
human　being　with　which　she　was　acquainted。　Yet　no　doubt；　like　all　men；
he　had　somewhere　friends；　relations；　possibly　even　a　wife；　children。

No　doubtthen　why　could　she　not　believe　it？

The　man　had　finished　his　fish。　He　rested　his　broad；　burnt　hands　on　the
table　on　each　side　of　his　plate　and　looked　at　them　steadily。　Then　he
turned　his　head　and　glanced　sideways　at　the　priest；　who　was　behind　him
to　the　right。　Then　he　looked　again　at　his　hands。　And　Domini　knew　that
all　the　time　he　was　thinking　about　her；　as　she　was　thinking　about　him。
She　felt　the　violence　of　his　thought　like　the　violence　of　a　hand
striking　her。

The　Arab　waiter　brought　her　some　ragout　of　mutton　and　peas；　and　she
looked　down　again　at　her　plate。

As　she　left　the　room　after　/dejeuner/　the　priest　again　got　up　and
bowed。　She　stopped　for　a　moment　to　speak　to　him。　All　the　French
officers　surveyed　her　tall；　upright　figure　and　broad；　athletic
shoulders　with　intent　admiration。　Domini　knew　it　and　was　indifferent。
If　a　hundred　French　soldiers　had　been　staring　at　her　critically　she
would　not　have　cared　at　all。　She　was　not　a　shy　woman　and　was　in　nowise
uncomfortable　when　many　eyes　were　fixed　upon　her。　So　she　stood　and
talked　a　little　to　the　priest　about　Count　Anteoni　and　her　pleasure　in
his　garden。　And　as　she　did　so；　feeling　her　present　calm　self…
possession；　she　wondered　secretly　at　the　wholly　unnatural　turmoilshe
called　it　that；　exaggerating　her　feeling　because　it　was　unusualin
which　she　had　been　a　few　minutes　before　as　she　sat　at　her　table。

The　priest　spoke　well　of　Count　Anteoni。

〃He　is　very　generous；〃　he　said。

Then　he　paused；　twisting　his　napkin；　and　added：

〃But　I　never　have　any　real　intercourse　with　him；　Madame。　I　believe　he
comes　here　in　search　of　solitude。　He　spends　days　and　even　weeks　alone
shut　up　in　his　garden。〃

〃Thinking；〃　she　said。

The　priest　looked　slightly　surprised。

〃It　would　be　difficult　not　to　think；　Madame；　would　it　not？〃

〃Oh；　yes。　But　Count　Anteoni　thinks　rather　as　a　Bashi…Bazouk　fights；　I
fancy。〃

She　heard　a　chair　creak　in　the　distance　and　glanced　over　her　shoulder。
The　traveller　had　turned　sideways。　At　once　she　bade　the　priest　good…
bye　and　walked　away　and　out　through　the　swing　door。

All　the　afternoon　she　rested。　The　silence　was　profound。　Beni…Mora　was
enjoying　a　siesta　in　the　heat。　Domini　revelled　in　the　stillness。　The
fatigue　of　travel　had　quite　gone　from　her　now　and　she　began　to　feel
strangely　at　home。　Suzanne　had　arranged　photographs；　books；　flowers　in
the　little　salon；　had　put　cushions　here　and　there；　and　thrown　pretty
coverings　over　the　sofa　and　the　two　low　chairs。　The　room　had　an　air　of
cosiness；　of　occupation。　It　was　a　room　one　could　sit　in　without
restlessness；　and　Domini　liked　its　simplicity；　its　bare　wooden　floor
and　white　walls。　The　sun　made　everything　right　here。　Without　the　sun
but　she　could　not　think　of　Beni…Mora　without　the　sun。

She　read　on　the　verandah　and　dreamed；　and　the　hours　slipped　quickly
away。　No　one　came　to　disturb　her。　She　heard　no　footsteps；　no　movements
of　humanity　in　the　house。　Now　and　then　the　sound　of　voices　floated　up
to　her　from　the　gardens；　mingling　with　the　peculiar　dry　noise　of　palm
leaves　stirring　in　a　breeze。　Or　she　heard　the　distant　gallop　of
horses'　feet。　The　church　bell　chimed　the　hours　and　made　her　recall　the
previous　evening。　Already　it　seemed　far　off　in　the　past。　She　could
scarcely　believe　that　she　had　not　yet　spent　twenty…four　hours　in　Beni…
Mora。