the garden of allah-第71部分

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caress。　He　yielded　to　her　at　once。

〃Look！〃　he　said。　〃Do　you　love　the　darkness？　Tell　metell　me　that　you
love　it。〃

She　let　her　hand　glide　over　his　cheek　in　answer。

〃Look　at　it。　Love　it。　All　the　desert　is　in　it；　and　our　love　in　the
desert。　Let　us　stay　in　the　desert；　let　us　stay　in　it　for　everfor
ever。　It　is　your　gardenyours。　It　has　brought　us　everything；　Domini。〃

He　took　her　hand　and　pressed　it　again　and　again　over　his　cheek
lingeringly。　Then；　abruptly；　he　dropped　it。

〃Come！〃　he　said。　〃Domini。〃

And　he　drew　her　in　through　the　tent　door　almost　violently。

A　stronger　gust　of　the　night　wind　followed　them。　Androvsky　took　his
arms　slowly　from　Domini　and　turned　to　let　down　the　flap　of　the　tent。
While　he　was　doing　this　she　stood　quite　still。　The　flame　of　the　lamp
flickered；　throwing　its　light　now　here；　now　there；　uneasily。　She　saw
the　crucifix　lit　up　for　an　instant　and　the　white　bed　beneath　it。　The
wind　stirred　her　dark　hair　and　was　cold　about　her　neck。　But　the　warmth
there　met　and　defied　it。　In　that　brief　moment；　while　Androvsky　was
fastening　the　tent；　she　seemed　to　live　through　centuries　of　intense
and　complicated　emotion。　When　the　light　flickered　over　the　crucifix
she　felt　as　if　she　could　spend　her　life　in　passionate　adoration　at　its
foot；　but　when　she　did　not　see　it；　and　the　wind；　coming　in　from　the
desert　through　the　tent　door；　where　she　heard　the　movement　of
Androvsky；　stirred　in　her　hair；　she　felt　reckless；　wayward；　savage
and　something　more。　A　cry　rose　in　her　that　was　like　the　cry　of　a
stranger；　who　yet　was　of　her　and　in　her；　and　from　whom　she　would　not
part。

Again　the　lamp　flame　flickered　upon　the　crucifix。　Quickly；　while　she
saw　the　crucifix　plainly；　she　went　forward　to　the　bed　and　fell　on　her
knees　by　it；　bending　down　her　face　upon　its　whiteness。

When　Androvsky　had　fastened　the　tent　door　he　turned　round　and　saw　her
kneeling。　He　stood　quite　still　as　if　petrified；　staring　at　her。　Then；
as　the　flame；　now　sheltered　from　the　wind；　burned　steadily；　he　saw　the
crucifix。　He　started　as　if　someone　had　struck　him；　hesitated；　then；
with　a　look　of　fierce　and　concentrated　resolution　on　his　face；　went
swiftly　to　the　crucifix　and　pulled　it　from　the　canvas　roughly。　He　held
it　in　his　hand　for　an　instant；　then　moved　to　the　tent　door　and　stooped
to　unfasten　the　cords　that　held　it　to　the　pegs；　evidently　with　the
intention　of　throwing　the　crucifix　out　into　the　night。　But　he　did　not
unfasten　the　cords。　Somethingsome　sudden　change　of　feeling；　some
secret　and　powerful　reluctancechecked　him。　He　thrust　the　crucifix
into　his　pocket。　Then；　returning　to　where　Domini　was　kneeling；　he　put
his　arms　round　her　and　drew　her　to　her　feet。

She　did　not　resist　him。　Still　holding　her　in　his　arms　he　blew　out　the
lamp。



CHAPTER　XIX

The　Arabs　have　a　saying；　〃In　the　desert　one　forgets　everything；　one
remembers　nothing　any　more。〃

To　Domini　it　sometimes　seemed　the　truest　of　all　the　true　and　beautiful
sayings　of　the　East。　Only　three　weeks　had　passed　away　since　the　first
halt　at　Arba；　yet　already　her　life　at　Beni…Mora　was　faint　in　her　mind
as　the　dream　of　a　distant　past。　Taken　by　the　vast　solitudes；
journeying　without　definite　aim　from　one　oasis　to　another　through
empty　regions　bathed　in　eternal　sunshine；　camping　often　in　the　midst
of　the　sand　by　one　of　the　wells　sunk　for　the　nomads　by　the　French
engineers；　strengthened　perpetually；　yet　perpetually　soothed；　by　airs
that　were　soft　and　cool；　as　if　mingled　of　silk　and　snow；　they　lived
surely　in　a　desert　dream　with　only　a　dream　behind　them。　They　had
become　as　one　with　the　nomads；　whose　home　is　the　moving　tent；　whose
hearthstone　is　the　yellow　sand　of　the　dunes；　whose　God　is　liberty。

Domini　loved　this　life　with　a　love　which　had　already　become　a　passion。
All　that　she　had　imagined　that　the　desert　might　be　to　her　she　found
that　it　was。　In　its　so…called　monotony　she　discovered　eternal
interest。　Of　old　she　had　thought　the　sea　the　most　wonderful　thing　in
Nature。　In　the　desert　she　seemed　to　possess　the　sea　with　something
added　to　it；　a　calm；　a　completeness；　a　mystical　tenderness；　a
passionate　serenity。　She　thought　of　the　sea　as　a　soul　striving　to
fulfil　its　noblest　aspirations；　to　be　the　splendid　thing　it　knew　how
to　dream　of。　But　she　thought　of　the　desert　as　a　soul　that　need　strive
no　more；　having　attained。　And　she；　like　the　Arabs；　called　it　always　in
her　heart　the　Garden　of　Allah。　For　in　this　wonderful　calm；　bright　as
the　child's　idea　of　heaven；　clear　as　a　crystal　with　a　sunbeam　caught
in　it；　silent　as　a　prayer　that　will　be　answered　silently；　God　seemed
to　draw　very　near　to　His　wandering　children。　In　the　desert　was　the
still；　small　voice；　and　the　still；　small　voice　was　the　Lord。

Often　at　dawn　or　sundown；　when；　perhaps　in　the　distance　of　the　sands；
or　near　at　hand　beneath　the　shade　of　the　palms　of　some　oasis　by　a
waterspring；　she　watched　the　desert　men　in　their　patched　rags；　with
their　lean；　bronzed　faces　and　eagle　eyes　turned　towards　Mecca；　bowing
their　heads　in　prayer　to　the　soil　that　the　sun　made　hot；　she
remembered　Count　Anteoni's　words；　〃I　like　to　see　men　praying　in　the
desert；〃　and　she　understood　with　all　her　heart　and　soul　why。　For　the
life　of　the　desert　was　the　most　perfect　liberty　that　could　be　found　on
earth；　and　to　see　men　thus　worshipping　in　liberty　set　before　her　a
vision　of　free　will　upon　the　heights。　When　she　thought　of　the　world
she　had　known　and　left；　of　the　men　who　would　always　live　in　it　and
know　no　other　world；　she　was　saddened　for　a　moment。　Could　she　ever
find　elsewhere　such　joy　as　she　had　found　in　the　simple　and　unfettered
life　of　the　wastes？　Could　she　ever　exchange　this　life　for　another
life；　even　with　Androvsky？

One　day　she　spoke　to　him　of　her　intense　joy　in　the　wandering　fate；　and
the　pain　that　came　to　her　whenever　she　thought　of　exchanging　it　for　a
life　of　civilisation　in　the　midst　of　fixed　groups　of　men。

They　had　halted　for　the　noonday　rest　at　a　place　called　Sidi…Hamdam；
and　in　the　afternoon　were　going　to　ride　on　to　a　Bordj　called　Mogar；
where　they　meant　to　stay　two　or　three　days；　as　Batouch　had　told　them
it　was　a　good　halting　place；　and　near　to　haunts　of　the　gazelle。　The
tents　had　already　gone　forward；　and　Domini　and　Androvsky　were　lying
upon　a　rug　spread　on　the　sand；　in　the　shadow　of　the　grey　wall　of　a
traveller's　house　beside　a　well。　Behind　them　their　horses　were
tethered　to　an　iron　ring　in　the　wall。　Batouch　and　Ali　were　in　the
court　of　the　house；　talking　to　the　Arab　guardian　who　dwelt　there；　but
their　voices　were　not　audible　by　the　well；　and　absolute　silence
reigned；　the　intense　yet　light　silence　that　is　in　the　desert　at
noontide；　when　the　sun　is　at　the　zenith；　when　the　nomad　sleeps　under
his　low…pitched　tent；　and　the　gardeners　in　the　oasis　cease　even　from
pretending　to　work　among　the　palms。　From　before　the　well　the　ground
sank　to　a　plain　of　pale　grey　sand；　which　stretched　away　to　a　village
hard　in　aspect；　as　if　carved　out　of　bronze　and　all　in　one　piece。　In
the　centre　of　it　rose　a　mosque　with　a　minaret　and　a　number　of　cupolas；
faintly　gilded　and　shining　modestly　under　the　fierce　rays　of　the　sun。

At　the　foot　of　the　village　the　ground　was　white　with　saltpetre；　which
resembled　a　covering　of　new…fallen　snow。　To　right　and　left　of　it　were
isolated　groups　of　palms　growing　in　threes　and　fours；　like　trees　that
had　formed　themselves　into　cliques　and　set　careful　barriers　of　sand
between　themselves　and　their　despised　brethren。　Here　and　there　on　the
grey　sand　dark　patches　showed　where　nomads　had　pitched　their　tents。
But　there　was　no　movement　of　human　life。　No　camels　were　visible。　No
guard　dogs　barked。　The　noon　held　all　things　in　its　golden　grip。

〃Boris！〃　Domini　said；　breaking　a　long　silence。

〃Yes；　Domini？〃

He　turned　towards　her　on　the　rug；　stretching　his　long；　thin　body
lazily　as　if　in　supreme　physical　contentment。

〃You　know　that　saying　of　the　Arabs　about　forgetting　everything　in　the
desert？〃

〃Yes；　Domini；　I　know　it。〃

〃How　long　shall　we　stay　in　this　world　of　forgetfulness？〃

He　lifted　himself　up　on　his　elbow　quickly；　and　fixed　his　eyes　on　hers。

〃How　long！〃

〃Yes。〃

〃Butdo　you　wish　to　leave　it？　Are　you　tired　of　it？〃

There　was　a　note　of　sharp　anxiety　in　his　voice。

〃I　don't　answer　such　a　question；〃　she　said；　smiling　at　him。

〃Ah；　then；　why　do　you　try　to　frighten　me？〃

She　put　her　hand　in　his。

〃How　burnt　you　are！〃　she　said。　〃You　are　like　an　Arab　of　the　South。〃

〃Let　me　become　more　like　one。　There's　health　here。〃

〃And　peace；　perfect　peace。〃

He　said　nothing。　He　was　looking　down　now　at　the　sand。

She　laid　her　lips　on　his　warm　brown　hand。

〃There's　all　I　want　here；〃　she　added。

〃Let　us　stay　here。〃

〃But　some　day　we　must　go　back；　mustn't　we？〃

〃Why？〃

〃Can　anything　be　lifelongeven　our　honeymoon？〃

〃Suppose　we　choose　that　it　shall　be？〃

〃Can　we　choose　such　a　thing？　Is　anybody　allowed　to　choose　to　live
always　quite　happily　without　duties？　Sometimes　I　wonder。　I　love　this
wandering　life　so　much；　I　am　so　happy　in　it；　that　I　sometimes　think　it
cannot　last　much　longer。〃

He　began　to　sift　the　sand　through　his　fingers　swiftly。

〃Duties？〃　he　said　in　a　low　voice。

〃Yes。　Oughtn't　we　to　do　something　presently；　something　besides　being
happy？〃

〃What　do　you　mean；　Domini？〃

〃I　hardly　know；　I　don't　know。　You　tell　me。〃

There　was　an　urging　in　her　voice；　as　if　she　wanted；　almost　demanded；
something　of　him。

〃You　mean　that　a　man　must　do　some　work　in　his　life　if　he　is　to　keep
himself　a　man；〃　he　said；　not　as　if　he　were　asking　a　question。

He　spoke　reluctantly　but　firmly。

〃You　know；〃　he　added；　〃that　I　have　worked　hard　all　my　life；　hard　like
a　labourer。〃

〃Yes；　I　know；〃　she　said。

She　stroked　his　hand；　that　was　worn　and　rough；　and　spoke　eloquently　of
manual　toil　it　had　accomplished　in　the　past。

〃I　know。　Before　we　were　married；　that　day　when　we　sat　in　the　garden；
you　told　me　your　life　and　I　told　you　mine。　How　different　they　have
been！〃

〃Yes；〃　he　said。

He　lit　a　cigar　and　watched　the　smoke　curling　up　into　the　gold　of　the
sunlit　atmosphere。

〃Mine　in　the　midst　of　the　world　and　yours　so　far　away　from　it。　I　often
imagine　that　little　place；　El　Krori；　the　garden；　your　brother；　your
twin…brother　Stephen；　that　one