the garden of allah-第52部分

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could　not　control。　〃You　will　always　suffer　if　you　cannot　govern
yourself。　You　will　make　people　dislike　you；　be　suspicious　of　you。〃

〃Suspicious！　Who　is　suspicious　of　me？〃　he　asked　sharply。　〃Who　has　any
right　to　be　suspicious　of　me？〃

She　looked　up　and　fancied　that；　for　an　instant；　she　saw　something　as
ugly　as　terror　in　his　eyes。

〃Surely　you　know　that　people　don't　ask　permission　to　be　suspicious　of
their　fellow…men？〃　she　said。

〃No　one　here　has　any　right　to　consider　me　or　my　actions；〃　he　said；
fierceness　blazing　out　of　him。　〃I　am　a　free　man；　and　can　do　as　I　will。
No　one　has　any　rightno　one！〃

Domini　felt　as　if　the　words　were　meant　for　her；　as　if　he　had　struck
her。　She　was　so　angry　that　she　did　not　trust　herself　to　speak；　and
instinctively　she　put　her　hand　up　to　her　breast；　as　a　woman　might　who
had　received　a　blow。　She　touched　something　small　and　hard　that　was
hidden　beneath　her　gown。　It　was　the　little　wooden　crucifix　Androvsky
had　thrown　into　the　stream　at　Sidi…Zerzour。　As　she　realised　that　her
anger　died。　She　was　humbled　and　ashamed。　What　was　her　religion　if；　at
a　word；　she　could　be　stirred　to　such　a　feeling　of　passion？

〃I；　at　least；　am　not　suspicious　of　you；〃　she　said；　choosing　the　very
words　that　were　most　difficult　for　her　to　say　just　then。　〃And　Father
Roubierif　you　included　himis　too　fine…hearted　to　cherish　unworthy
suspicions　of　anyone。〃

She　got　up。　Her　voice　was　full　of　a　subdued；　but　strong；　emotion。

〃Oh；　Monsieur　Androvsky！〃　she　said。　〃Do　go　over　and　see　him。　Make
friends　with　him。　Never　mind　yesterday。　I　want　you　to　be　friends　with
him；　with　everyone　here。　Let　us　make　Beni…Mora　a　place　of　peace　and
good　will。〃

Then　she　went　across　the　verandah　quickly　to　her　room；　and　passed　in；
closing　the　window　behind　her。

/Dejeuner/　was　brought　into　her　sitting…room。　She　ate　it　in　solitude；
and　late　in　the　afternoon　she　went　out　on　the　verandah。　She　had　made
up　her　mind　to　spend　an　hour　in　the　church。　She　had　told　Father
Roubier　that　she　wanted　to　think　something　out。　Since　she　had　left　him
the　burden　upon　her　mind　had　become　heavier；　and　she　longed　to　be
alone　in　the　twilight　near　the　altar。　Perhaps　she　might　be　able　to
cast　down　the　burden　there。　In　the　verandah　she　stood　for　a　moment　and
thought　how　wonderful　was　the　difference　between　dawn　and　sunset　in
this　land。　The　gardens；　that　had　looked　like　a　place　of　departed　and
unhappy　spirits　when　she　rose　that　day；　were　now　bathed　in　the
luminous　rays　of　the　declining　sun；　were　alive　with　the　softly…calling
voices　of　children；　quivered　with　romance；　with　a　dreamlike；　golden
charm。　The　stillness　of　the　evening　was　intense；　enclosing　the
children's　voices；　which　presently　died　away；　but　while　she　was
marvelling　at　it　she　was　disturbed　by　a　sharp　noise　of　knocking。　She
looked　in　the　direction　from　which　it　came　and　saw　Androvsky　standing
before　the　priest's　door。　As　she　looked；　the　door　was　opened　by　the
Arab　boy　and　Androvsky　went　in。

Then　she　did　not　think　of　the　gardens　any　more。　With　a　radiant
expression　in　her　eyes　she　went　down　and　crossed　over　to　the　church。
It　was　empty。　She　went　softly　to　a　/prie…dieu/　near　the　altar；　knelt
down　and　covered　her　eyes　with　her　hands。

At　first　she　did　not　pray；　or　even　think　consciously；　but　just　rested
in　the　attitude　which　always　seems　to　bring　humanity　nearest　its　God。
And；　almost　immediately；　she　began　to　feel　a　quietude　of　spirit；　as　if
something　delicate　descended　upon　her；　and　lay　lightly　about　her；
shrouding　her　from　the　troubles　of　the　world。　How　sweet　it　was　to　have
the　faith　that　brings　with　it　such　tender　protection；　to　have　the
trust　that　keeps　alive　through　the　swift　passage　of　the　years　the
spirit　of　the　little　child。　How　sweet　it　was　to　be　able　to　rest。　There
was　at　this　moment　a　sensation　of　deep　joy　within　her。　It　grew　in　the
silence　of　the　church；　and；　as　it　grew；　brought　with　it　presently　a
growing　consciousness　of　the　lives　beyond　those　walls；　of　other
spirits　capable　of　suffering；　of　conflict；　and　of　peace；　not　far　away；
till　she　knew　that　this　present　blessing　of　happiness　came　to　her；　not
only　from　the　scarce…realised　thought　of　God；　but　also　from　the
scarce…realised　thought　of　man。

Close　by；　divided　from　her　only　by　a　little　masonry；　a　few　feet　of
sand；　a　few　palm　trees；　Androvsky　was　with　the　priest。

Still　kneeling；　with　her　face　between　her　hands；　Domini　began　to　think
and　pray。　The　memory　of　her　petition　to　Notre　Dame　de　la　Garde　came
back　to　her。　Before　she　knew　Africa　she　had　prayed　for　men　wandering；
and　perhaps　unhappy；　there；　for　men　whom　she　would　probably　never　see
again；　would　never　know。　And　now　that　she　was　growing　familiar　with
this　land；　divined　something　of　its　wonders　and　its　dangers；　she
prayed　for　a　man　in　it　whom　she　did　not　know；　who　was　very　near　to　her
making　a　sacrifice　of　his　prejudices；　perhaps　of　his　fears；　at　her
desire。　She　prayed　for　Androvsky　without　words；　making　of　her　feelings
of　gratitude　to　him　a　prayer；　and　presently；　in　the　darkness　framed　by
her　hands；　she　seemed　to　see　Liberty　once　more；　as　in　the　shadows　of
the　dancing…house；　standing　beside　a　man　who　prayed　far　out　in　the
glory　of　the　desert。　The　storm；　spoken　of　by　the　Diviner；　did　not
always　rage。　It　was　stilled　to　hear　his　prayer。　And　the　darkness　had
fled；　and　the　light　drew　near　to　listen。　She　pressed　her　face　more
strongly　against　her　hands；　and　began　to　think　more　definitely。

Was　this　interview　with　the　priest　the　first　step　taken　by　Androvsky
towards　the　gift　the　desert　held　for　him？

He　must　surely　be　a　man　who　hated　religion；　or　thought　he　hated　it。

Perhaps　he　looked　upon　it　as　a　chain；　instead　of　as　the　hammer　that
strikes　away　the　fetters　from　the　slave。

Yet　he　had　worn　a　crucifix。

She　lifted　her　head；　put　her　hand　into　her　breast；　and　drew　out　the
crucifix。　What　was　its　history？　She　wondered　as　she　looked　at　it。　Had
someone　who　loved　him　given　it　to　him；　someone；　perhaps；　who　grieved
at　his　hatred　of　holiness；　and　who　fancied　that　this　very　humble
symbol　might　one　day；　as　the　humble　symbols　sometimes　do；　prove　itself
a　little　guide　towards　shining　truth？　Had　a　woman　given　it　to　him？

She　laid　the　cross　down　on　the　edge　of　the　/prie…dieu/。

There　was　red　fire　gleaming　now　on　the　windows　of　the　church。　She
realised　the　pageant　that　was　marching　up　the　west；　the　passion　of　the
world　as　well　as　the　purity　which　lay　beyond　the　world。　Her　mind　was
disturbed。　She　glanced　from　the　red　radiance　on　the　glass　to　the　dull
brown　wood　of　the　cross。　Blood　and　agony　had　made　it　the　mystical
symbol　that　it　wasblood　and　agony。

She　had　something　to　think　out。　That　burden　was　still　upon　her　mind；
and　now　again　she　felt　its　weight；　a　weight　that　her　interview　with
the　priest　had　not　lifted。　For　she　had　not　been　able　to　be　quite　frank
with　the　priest。　Something　had　held　her　back　from　absolute　sincerity；
and　so　he　had　not　spoken　quite　plainly　all　that　was　in　his　mind。　His
words　had　been　a　little　vague；　yet　she　had　understood　the　meaning　that
lay　behind　them。

Really；　he　had　warned　her　against　Androvsky。　There　were　two　men　of
very　different　types。　One　was　unworldly　as　a　child。　The　other　knew　the
world。　Neither　of　them　had　any　acquaintance　with　Androvsky's　history；
and　both　had　warned　her。　It　was　instinct　then　that　had　spoken　in　them；
telling　them　that　he　was　a　man　to　be　shunned；　perhaps　feared。　And　her
own　instinct？　What　had　it　said？　What　did　it　say？

For　a　long　time　she　remained　in　the　church。　But　she　could　not　think
clearly；　reason　calmly；　or　even　pray　passionately。　For　a　vagueness　had
come　into　her　mind　like　the　vagueness　of　twilight　that　filled　the
space　beneath　the　starry　roof；　softening　the　crudeness　of　the
ornaments；　the　garish　colours　of　the　plaster　saints。　It　seemed　to　her
that　her　thoughts　and　feelings　lost　their　outlines；　that　she　watched
them　fading　like　the　shrouded　forms　of　Arabs　fading　in　the　tunnels　of
Mimosa。　But　as　they　vanished　surely　they　whispered；　〃That　which　is
written　is　written。〃

The　mosques　of　Islam　echoed　these　words；　and　surely　this　little　church
that　bravely　stood　among　them。

〃That　which　is　written　is　written。〃

Domini　rose　from　her　knees；　hid　the　wooden　cross　once　more　in　her
breast；　and　went　out　into　the　evening。

As　she　left　the　church　door　something　occurred　which　struck　the
vagueness　from　her。　She　came　upon　Androvsky　and　the　priest。　They　were
standing　together　at　the　latter's　gate；　which　he　was　in　the　act　of
opening　to　an　accompaniment　of　joyous　barking　from　Bous…Bous。　Both　men
looked　strongly　expressive；　as　if　both　had　been　making　an　effort　of
some　kind。　She　stopped　in　the　twilight　to　speak　to　them。

〃Monsieur　Androvsky　has　kindly　been　paying　me　a　visit；〃　said　Father
Roubier。

〃I　am　glad；〃　Domini　said。　〃We　ought　all　to　be　friends　here。〃

There　was　a　perceptible　pause。　Then　Androvsky　lifted　his　hat。

〃Good…evening；　Madame；〃　he　said。　〃Good…evening；　Father。〃　And　he　walked
away　quickly。

The　priest　looked　after　him　and　sighed　profoundly。

〃Oh；　Madame！〃　he　exclaimed；　as　if　impelled　to　liberate　his　mind　to
someone；　〃what　is　the　matter　with　that　man？　What　is　the　matter？〃

He　stared　fixedly　into　the　twilight　after　Androvsky's　retreating　form。

〃With　Monsieur　Androvsky？〃

She　spoke　quietly；　but　her　mind　was　full　of　apprehension；　and　she
looked　searchingly　at　the　priest。

〃Yes。　What　can　it　be？〃

〃ButI　don't　understand。〃

〃Why　did　he　come　to　see　me？〃

〃I　asked　him　to　come。〃

She　blurted　out　the　words　without　knowing　why；　only　feeling　that　she
must　speak　the　truth。

〃You　asked　him！〃

〃Yes。　I　wanted　you　to　be　friendsand　I　thought　perhaps　you　might〃

〃Yes？〃

〃I　wanted　you　to　be　friends。〃　She　repeated　it　almost　stubbornly。

〃I　have　never　before　felt　so　ill　at　ease　with　any　human　being；〃
exclaimed　the　priest　with　tense　excitement。　〃And　yet　I　could　not　let
him　go。　Whenever　he　was　about　to　leave　me　I　was　impelled　to　press　him
to　remain。　We　spoke　of　the　most　ordinary　things；　and　all　the　time　it
was　as　if　we　were　in　a　great　tragedy。　What　is　he？　What　can　he　be？〃　（He
still　looked　down　the　road。）

〃I　don't　know。　I　know　nothing。　He　is　a　man　travelling；　as　other　men
travel。〃

〃Oh；　no！〃

〃What　do　you　mean；　Father？〃