the garden of allah-第90部分

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〃Don't　ever　say　a　thing　like　that　to　me　again！〃　she　said　with　passion。

She　pointed　to　the　grave　close　to　them。

〃If　you　were　there；〃　she　said；　〃and　I　was　living；　and　you　had　died
beforebefore　you　had　told　meI　believeGod　forgive　me；　but　I　do
believe　that　if；　when　you　died；　I　were　taken　to　heaven　I　should　find
my　hell　there。〃

She　looked　through　her　tears　at　the　words：　〃Priez　pour　lui。〃

〃To　pray　for　the　dead；〃　she　whispered；　as　if　to　herself。　〃To　pray　for
my　deadI　could　not　do　itI　could　not。　Boris；　if　you　love　me　you
must　trust　me；　you　must　give　me　your　sorrow。〃

The　night　drew　on。　Androvsky　had　gone　to　the　priest。　Domini　was　alone；
sitting　before　the　tent　waiting　for　his　return。　She　had　told　Batouch
and　Ouardi　that　she　wanted　nothing　more；　that　no　one　was　to　come　to
the　tent　again　that　night。　The　young　moon　was　rising　over　the　city；
but　its　light　as　yet　was　faint。　It　fell　upon　the　cupolas　of　the　Bureau
Arabe；　the　towers　of　the　mosque　and　the　white　sands；　whose　whiteness
it　seemed　to　emphasise；　making　them　pale　as　the　face　of　one　terror…
stricken。　The　city　wall　cast　a　deep　shadow　over　the　moat　of　sand　in
which；　wrapped　in　filthy　rags；　lay　nomads　sleeping。　Upon　the　sand…
hills　the　camps　were　alive　with　movement。　Fires　blazed　and　smoke
ascended　before　the　tents　that　made　patches　of　blackness　upon　the
waste。　Round　the　fires　were　seated　groups　of　men　devouring　cous…cous
and　the　red　soup　beloved　of　the　nomad。　Behind　them　circled　the　dogs
with　quivering　nostrils。　Squadrons　of　camels　lay　crouched　in　the　sand；
resting　after　their　journeys。　And　everywhere；　from　the　city　and　from
the　waste；　rose　distant　sounds　of　music；　thin；　aerial　flutings　like
voices　of　the　night　winds；　acrid　cries　from　the　pipes；　and　the　far…off
rolling　of　the　African　drums　that　are　the　foundation　of　every　desert
symphony。

Although　she　was　now　accustomed　to　the　music　of　Africa；　Domini　could
never　hear　it　without　feeling　the　barbarity　of　the　land　from　which　it
rose；　the　wildness　of　the　people　who　made　and　who　loved　it。　Always　it
suggested　to　her　an　infinite　remoteness；　as　if　it　were　music　sounding
at　the　end　of　the　world；　full　of　half…defined　meanings；　melancholy　yet
fierce　passion；　longings　that；　momentarily　satisfied；　continually
renewed　themselves；　griefs　that　were　hidden　behind　thin　veils　like　the
women　of　the　East；　but　that　peered　out　with　expressive　eyes；　hinting
their　story　and　desiring　assuagement。　And　tonight　the　meaning　of　the
music　seemed　deeper　than　it　had　been　before。　She　thought　of　it　as　an
outside　echo　of　the　voices　murmuring　in　her　mind　and　heart；　and　the
voices　murmuring　in　the　mind　and　heart　of　Androvsky；　broken　voices
some　of　them；　but　some　strong；　fierce；　tense　and　alive　with　meaning。
And　as　she　sat　there　alone　she　thought　this　unity　of　music　drew　her
closer　to　the　desert　than　she　had　ever　been　before；　and　drew　Androvsky
with　her；　despite　his　great　reserve。　In　the　heart　of　the　desert　he
would　surely　let　her　see　at　last　fully　into　his　heart。　When　he　came
back　in　the　night　from　the　priest　he　would　speak。　She　was　waiting　for
that。

The　moon　was　mounting。　Its　light　grew　stronger。　She　looked　across　the
sands　and　saw　fires　in　the　city；　and　suddenly　she　said　to　herself；
〃This　is　the　vision　of　the　sand…diviner　realised　in　my　life。　He　saw　me
as　I　am　now；　in　this　place。〃　And　she　remembered　the　scene　in　the
garden；　the　crouching　figure；　the　extended　arms；　the　thin　fingers
tracing　swift　patterns　in　the　sand；　the　murmuring　voice。

To…night　she　felt　deeply　expectant；　but　almost　sad；　encompassed　by　the
mystery　that　hangs　in　clouds　about　human　life　and　human　relations。
What　could　be　that　great　joy　of　which　the　Diviner　had　spoken？　A
woman's　great　joy　that　starred　the　desert　with　flowers　and　made　the
dry　places　run　with　sweet　waters。　What　could　it　be？

Suddenly　she　felt　again　the　oppression　of　spirit　she　had　been
momentarily　conscious　of　in　the　afternoon。　It　was　like　a　load
descending　upon　her；　and；　almost　instantly；　communicated　itself　to　her
body。　She　was　conscious　of　a　sensation　of　unusual　weariness；
uneasiness；　even　dread；　then　again　of　an　intensity　of　life　that
startled　her。　This　intensity　remained；　grew　in　her。　It　was　as　if　the
principle　of　life；　like　a　fluid；　were　being　poured　into　her　out　of　the
vials　of　God；　as　if　the　little　cup　that　was　all　she　had　were　too　small
to　contain　the　precious　liquid。　That　seemed　to　her　to　be　the　cause　of
the　pain　of　which　she　was　conscious。　She　was　being　given　more　than　she
felt　herself　capable　of　possessing。　She　got　up　from　her　chair；　unable
to　remain　still。　The　movement；　slight　though　it　was；　seemed　to　remove
a　veil　of　darkness　that　had　hung　over　her　and　to　let　in　upon　her　a
flood　of　light。　She　caught　hold　of　the　canvas　of　the　tent。　For　a
moment　she　felt　weak　as　a　child；　then　strong　as　an　Amazon。　And　the
sense　of　strength　remained；　grew。　She　walked　out　upon　the　sand　in　the
direction　by　which　Androvsky　would　return。　The　fires　in　the　city　and
the　camps　were　to　her　as　illuminations　for　a　festival。　The　music　was
the　music　of　a　great　rejoicing。　The　vast　expanse　of　the　desert；　wintry
white　under　the　moon；　dotted　with　the　fires　of　the　nomads；　blossomed
as　the　rose。　After　a　few　moments　she　stopped。　She　was　on　the　crest　of
a　sand…bank；　and　could　see　below　her　the　faint　track　in　the　sand　which
wound　to　the　city　gate。　By　this　track　Androvsky　would　surely　return。
From　a　long　distance　she　would　be　able　to　see　him；　a　moving　darkness
upon　the　white。　She　was　near　to　the　city　now；　and　could　hear　voices
coming　to　her　from　behind　its　rugged　walls；　voices　of　men　singing；　and
calling　one　to　another；　the　twang　of　plucked　instruments；　the　click　of
negroes'　castanets。　The　city　was　full　of　joy　as　the　desert　was　full　of
joy。　The　glory　of　life　rushed　upon　her　like　a　flood　of　gold；　that　gold
of　the　sun　in　which　thousands　of　tiny　things　are　dancing。　And　she　was
given　the　power　of　giving　life；　of　adding　to　the　sum　of　glory。　She
looked　out　over　the　sands　and　saw　a　moving　blot　upon　them　coming
slowly　towards　her；　very　slowly。　It　was　impossible　at　this　distance　to
see　who　it　was；　but　she　felt　that　it　was　her　husband。　For　a　moment　she
thought　of　going　down　to　meet　him；　but　she　did　not　move。　The　new
knowledge　that　had　come　to　her　made　her；　just　then；　feel　shy　even　of
him；　as　if　he　must　come　to　her；　as　if　she　could　make　no　advance
towards　him。

As　the　blackness　upon　the　sand　drew　nearer　she　saw　that　it　was　a　man
walking　heavily。　The　man　had　her　husband's　gait。　When　she　saw　that　she
turned。　She　had　resolved　to　meet　him　at　the　tent　door；　to　tell　him
what　she　had　to　tell　him　at　the　threshold　of　their　wandering　home。　Her
sense　of　shyness　died　when　she　was　at　the　tent　door。　She　only　felt　now
her　oneness　with　her　husband；　and　that　to…night　their　unity　was　to　be
made　more　perfect。　If　it　could　be　made　quite　perfect！　If　he　would
speak　too！　Then　nothing　more　would　be　wanting。　At　last　every　veil
would　have　dropped　from　between　them；　and　as　they　had　long　been　one
flesh　they　would　be　one　in　spirit。

She　waited　in　the　tent　door。

After　what　seemed　a　long　time　she　saw　Androvsky　coming　across　the
moonlit　sand。　He　was　walking　very　slowly；　as　if　wearied　out；　with　his
head　drooping。　He　did　not　appear　to　see　her　till　he　was　quite　close　to
the　tent。　Then　he　stopped　and　gazed　at　her。　The　moonshe　thought　it
must　be　the　moonmade　his　face　look　strange；　like　a　dying　man's　face。
In　this　white　face　the　eyes　glittered　feverishly。

〃Boris！〃　she　said。

〃Domini！〃

〃Come　here；　close　to　me。　I　have　something　to　tell　yousomething
wonderful。〃

He　came　quite　up　to　her。

〃Domini；〃　he　said；　as　if　he　had　not　heard　her。　〃Domini；　II've　been
to　the　priest　to…night。　I　meant　to　confess　to　him。〃

〃To　confess！〃　she　said。

〃This　afternoon　I　asked　him　to　hear　my　confession；　but　tonight　I　could
not　make　it。　I　can　only　make　it　to　you；　Dominionly　to　you。　Do　you
hear；　Domini？　Do　you　hear？〃

Something　in　his　face　and　in　his　voice　terrified　her　heart。　Now　she
felt　as　if　she　would　stop　him　from　speaking　if　she　dared；　but　that　she
did　not　dare。　His　spirit　was　beyond　domination。　He　would　do　what　he
meant　to　do　regardless　of　herof　anyone。

〃What　is　it；　Boris？〃　she　whispered。　〃Tell　me。　Perhaps　I　can　understand
best　because　I　love　best。〃

He　put　his　arms　round　her　and　kissed　her；　as　a　man　kisses　the　woman　he
loves　when　he　knows　it　may　be　for　the　last　time；　long　and　hard；　with　a
desperation　of　love　that　feels　frustrated　by　the　very　lips　it　is
touching。　At　last　he　took　his　lips　from　hers。

〃Domini；〃　he　said；　and　his　voice　was　steady　and　clear；　almost　hard；
〃you　want　to　know　what　it　is　that　makes　me　unhappy　even　in　our　love
desperately　unhappy。　It　is　this。　I　believe　in　God；　I　love　God；　and　I
have　insulted　Him。　I　have　tried　to　forget　God；　to　deny　Him；　to　put
human　love　higher　than　love　for　Him。　But　always　I　am　haunted　by　the
thought　of　God；　and　that　thought　makes　me　despair。　Once；　when　I　was
young；　I　gave　myself　to　God　solemnly。　I　have　broken　the　vows　I　made。　I
haveI　have〃

The　hardness　went　out　of　his　voice。　He　broke　down　for　a　moment　and　was
silent。

〃You　gave　yourself　to　God；〃　she　said。　〃How？〃

He　tried　to　meet　her　questioning　eyes；　but　could　not。

〃II　gave　myself　to　God　as　a　monk；〃　he　answered　after　a　pause。

As　he　spoke　Domini　saw　before　her　in　the　moonlight　De　Trevignac。　He
cast　a　glance　of　horror　at　the　tent；　bent　over　her；　made　the　sign　of
the　Cross；　and　vanished。　In　his　place　stood　Father　Roubier；　his　eyes
shining；　his　hand　upraised；　warning　her　against　Androvsky。　Then　he；
too；　vanished；　and　she　seemed　to　see　Count　Anteoni　dressed　as　an　Arab
and　muttering　words　of　the　Koran。

〃Domini！〃

〃Domini；　did　you　hear　me？　Domini！　Domini！〃

She　felt　his　hands　on　her　wrists。

〃You　are　the　Trappist！〃　she　said　quietly；　〃of　whom　the　priest　told　me。
You　are　the　monk　from　the　Monastery　of　El…Largani　who　disappeared
after　twenty　years。〃

〃Yes；〃　he　said；　〃I　am　he。〃

〃What　made　you　tell　me？　What　made　you　tell　me？〃

There　was　agony　now　in　her　voice。

〃You　asked　me　to　speak；　but　it　was　not　that。　Do　you　remember　last
night　when　I　said　that　God　must　bless　you？　You　answered；　'He　has
blessed　me。　He　has　given　me　you；　your　love；　your　truth。'　It　is　that
which