the garden of allah-第92部分

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the　bonds　of　silence　when　he　chooses；　and　to　allow　monks　to　walk　and
speak　with　each　other　beyond　the　white　walls　that　hem　in　the　garden　of
the　monastery。　Now　and　then　we　spoke；　but　I　think　most　of　us　were　not
unhappy　in　our　silence。　It　became　a　habit。　And　then　we　were　always
occupied。　We　had　no　time　allowed　us　for　sitting　and　being　sad。　Domini；
I　don't　want　to　tell　you　about　the　Trappists；　their　lifeonly　about
myself；　why　I　was　as　I　was；　how　I　came　to　change。　For　years　I　was　not
unhappy　at　El…Largani。　When　my　time　of　novitiate　was　over　I　took　the
eternal　vows　without　hesitation。　Many　novices　go　out　again　into　the
world。　It　never　occurred　to　me　to　do　so。　I　scarcely　ever　felt　a
stirring　of　worldly　desire。　I　scarcely　ever　had　one　of　those　agonising
struggles　which　many　people　probably　attribute　to　monks。　I　was
contented　nearly　always。　Now　and　then　the　flesh　spoke；　but　not
strongly。　Remember；　our　life　was　a　life　of　hard　and　exhausting　labour
in　the　fields。　The　labour　kept　the　flesh　in　subjection；　as　the　prayer
lifted　up　the　spirit。　And　then；　during　all　my　earlier　years　at　the
monastery；　we　had　an　Abbe　who　was　quick　to　understand　the　characters
and　dispositions　of　menDom　Andre　Herceline。　He　knew　me　far　better
than　I　knew　myself。　He　knew；　what　I　did　not　suspect；　that　I　was　full
of　sleeping　violence；　that　in　my　purity　and　devotionor　beneath　it
ratherthere　was　a　strong　strain　of　barbarism。　The　Russian　was
sleeping　in　the　monk；　but　sleeping　soundly。　That　can　be。　Half　a　man's
nature；　if　all　that　would　call　to　it　is　carefully　kept　from　it；　may
sleep；　I　believe；　through　all　his　life。　He　might　die　and　never　have
known；　or　been；　what　all　the　time　he　was。　For　years　it　was　so　with　me。
I　knew　only　part　of　myself；　a　real　vivid　partbut　only　a　part。　I
thought　it　was　the　whole。　And　while　I　thought　it　was　the　whole　I　was
happy。　If　Dom　Andre　Herceline　had　not　died；　today　I　should　be　a　monk
at　El…Largani；　ignorant　of　what　I　know；　contented。

〃He　never　allowed　me　to　come　into　any　sort　of　contact　with　the　many
strangers　who　visited　the　monastery。　Different　monks　have　different
duties。　Certain　duties　bring　monks　into　connection　with　the　travellers
whom　curiosity　sends　to　El…Largani。　The　monk　whose　business　it　is　to
look　after　the　cemetery　on　the　hill；　where　the　dead　Trappists　are　laid
to　rest；　shows　visitors　round　the　little　chapel；　and　may　talk　with
them　freely　so　long　as　they　remain　in　the　cemetery。　The　monk　in　charge
of　the　distillery　also　receives　visitors　and　converses　with　them。　So
does　the　monk　in　charge　of　the　parlour　at　the　great　door　of　the
monastery。　He　sells　the　souvenirs　of　the　Trappists；　photographs　of　the
church　and　buildings；　statues　of　saints；　bottles　of　perfumes　made　by
the　monks。　He　takes　the　orders　for　the　wines　made　at　the　monastery；
and　forfor　thewhat　I　made；　Domini；　when　I　was　there。〃

She　thought　of　De　Trevignac　and　the　fragments　of　glass　lying　upon　the
ground　in　the　tent　at　Mogar。

〃Had　De　Trevignac〃　she　said　in　a　low；　inward　voice。

〃He　had　seen　me；　spoken　with　me　at　the　monastery。　When　Ouardi　brought
in　the　liqueur　he　remembered　who　I　was。〃

She　understood　De　Trevignac's　glance　towards　the　tent　where　Androvsky
lay　sleeping；　and　a　slight　shiver　ran　through　her。　Androvsky　saw　it
and　looked　down。

〃But　thethe〃

He　cleared　his　throat；　turned；　looked　out　across　the　white　sand　as　if
he　longed　to　travel　away　into　it　and　be　lost　for　ever；　then　went　on；
speaking　quickly：

〃But　the　monk　who　has　most　to　do　with　travellers　is　the　monk　who　is　in
charge　of　the　/hotellerie/　of　the　monastery。　He　is　the　host　to　all
visitors；　to　those　who　come　over　for　the　day　and　have　/dejeuner/；　and
to　any　who　remain　for　the　night；　or　for　a　longer　time。　For　when　I　was
at　El…Largani　it　was　permitted　for　people　to　stay　in　the　/hotellerie/；
on　payment　of　a　small　weekly　sum；　for　as　long　as　they　pleased。　The
monk　of　the　/hotellerie/　is　perpetually　brought　into　contact　with　the
outside　world。　He　talks　with　all　sorts　and　conditions　of　menwomen；
of　course；　are　not　admitted。　The　other　monks；　many　of　them；　probably
envy　him。　I　never　did。　I　had　no　wish　to　see　strangers。　When；　by
chance；　I　met　them　in　the　yard；　the　outbuildings；　or　the　grounds　of
the　monastery；　I　seldom　even　raised　my　eyes　to　look　at　them。　They　were
not；　would　never　be；　in　my　life。　Why　should　I　look　at　them？　What　were
they　to　me？　Years　went　onquickly　they　passednot　slowly。　I　did　not
feel　their　monotony。　I　never　shrank　from　anything　in　the　life。　My
health　was　splendid。　I　never　knew　what　it　was　to　be　ill　for　a　day。　My
muscles　were　hard　as　iron。　The　pallet　on　which　I　lay　in　my　cubicle；
the　heavy　robe　I　wore　day　and　night；　the　scanty　vegetables　I　ate；　the
bell　that　called　me　from　my　sleep　in　the　darkness　to　go　to　the　chapel；
the　fastings；　the　watchings；　the　perpetual　sameness　of　all　I　saw；　all
I　did；　neither　saddened　nor　fatigued　me。　I　never　sighed　for　change。
Can　you　believe　that；　Domini？　It　is　true。　So　long　as　Dom　Andre
Herceline　lived　and　ruled　my　life　I　was　calm；　happy；　as　few　people　in
the　world；　or　none；　can　ever　be。　But　Dom　Andre　died；　and　then〃

His　face　was　contorted　by　a　spasm。

〃My　mother　was　dead。　My　brother　lived　on　in　Tunis；　and　was　successful
in　business。　He　remained　unmarried。　So　far　as　I　was　concerned；
although　the　monastery　was　but　two　hours'　drive　from　the　town；　he
might　almost　have　been　dead　too。　I　scarcely　ever　saw　him；　and　then
only　by　a　special　permission　from　the　Reverend　Pere；　and　for　a　few
moments。　Once　I　visited　him　at　Tunis；　when　he　was　ill。　When　my　mother
died　I　seemed　to　sink　down　a　little　deeper　into　the　monastic　life。
That　was　all。　It　was　as　if　I　drew　my　robe　more　closely　round　me　and
pulled　my　hood　further　forward　over　my　face。　There　was　more　reason　for
my　prayers；　and　I　prayed　more　passionately。　I　lived　in　prayer　like　a
sea…plant　in　the　depths　of　the　ocean。　Prayer　was　about　me　like　a
fluid。　But　Dom　Andre　Herceline　died；　and　a　new　Abbe　was　appointed；　he
who；　I　suppose；　rules　now　at　El…Largani。　He　was　a　good　man；　but；　I
think；　apt　to　misunderstand　men。　The　Abbe　of　a　Trappist　monastery　has
complete　power　over　his　community。　He　can　order　what　he　will。　Soon
after　he　came　to　El…Larganifor　some　reason　that　I　cannot　divinehe
removed　the　Pere　Michel；　who　had　been　for　years　in　charge　of　the
cemetery；　from　his　duties　there；　and　informed　me　that　I　was　to
undertake　them。　I　obeyed；　of　course；　without　a　word。

〃The　cemetery　of　El…Largani　is　on　a　low　hill；　the　highest　part　of　the
monastery　grounds。　It　is　surrounded　by　a　white　wall　and　by　a　hedge　of
cypress　trees。　The　road　to　it　is　an　avenue　of　cypresses；　among　which
are　interspersed　niches　containing　carvings　of　the　Fourteen　Stations
of　the　Cross。　At　the　entrance　to　this　avenue；　on　the　left；　there　is　a
high　yellow　pedestal；　surmounted　by　a　black　cross；　on　which　hangs　a
silver　Christ。　Underneath　is　written：

〃FACTUS　OBEDIENS
　　　　〃USQUE
　　　〃AD　MORTEM
　　　　〃CRUCIS。

〃I　remember；　on　the　first　day　when　I　became　the　guardian　of　the
cemetery；　stopping　on　my　way　to　it　before　the　Christ　and　praying。　My
prayermy　prayer　was；　Domini；　that　I　might　die；　as　I　had　lived；　in
innocence。　I　prayed　for　that；　but　with　a　sort　ofyes；　now　I　think　so
insolent　certainty　that　my　prayer　would　of　course　be　granted。　Then　I
went　on　to　the　cemetery。

〃My　work　there　was　easy。　I　had　only　to　tend　the　land　about　the　graves；
and　sweep　out　the　little　chapel　where　was　buried　the　founder　of　La
Trappe　of　El…Largani。　This　done　I　could　wander　about　the　cemetery；　or
sit　on　a　bench　in　the　sun。　The　Pere　Michel；　who　was　my　predecessor；
had　some　doves；　and　had　left　them　behind　in　a　little　house　by　my
bench。　I　took　care　of　and　fed　them。　They　were　tame；　and　used　to
flutter　to　my　shoulders　and　perch　on　my　hands。　To　birds　and　animals　I
was　always　a　friend。　At　El…Largani　there　are　all　sorts　of　beasts；　and；
at　one　time　or　another；　it　had　been　my　duty　to　look　after　most　of
them。　I　loved　all　living　things。　Sitting　in　the　cemetery　I　could　see　a
great　stretch　of　country；　the　blue　of　the　lakes　of　Tunis　with　the
white　villages　at　their　edge；　the　boats　gliding　upon　them　towards　the
white　city；　the　distant　mountains。　Having　little　to　do；　I　sat　day
after　day　for　hours　meditating；　and　looking　out　upon　this　distant
world。　I　remember　specially　one　evening；　at　sunset；　just　before　I　had
to　go　to　the　chapel；　that　a　sort　of　awe　came　upon　me　as　I　looked
across　the　lakes。　The　sky　was　golden；　the　waters　were　dyed　with　gold；
out　of　which　rose　the　white　sails　of　boats。　The　mountains　were　shadowy
purple。　The　little　minarets　of　the　mosques　rose　into　the　gold　like
sticks　of　ivory。　As　I　watched　my　eyes　filled　with　tears；　and　I　felt　a
sort　of　aching　in　my　heart；　and　as　ifDomini；　it　was　as　if　at　that
moment　a　hand　was　laid；　on　mine；　but　very　gently；　and　pulled　at　my
hand。　It　was　as　if　at　that　moment　someone　was　beside　me　in　the
cemetery　wishing　to　lead　me　out　to　those　far…off　waters；　those　mosque
towers；　those　purple　mountains。　Never　before　had　I　had　such　a
sensation。　It　frightened　me。　I　felt　as　if　the　devil　had　come　into　the
cemetery；　as　if　his　hand　was　laid　on　mine；　as　if　his　voice　were
whispering　in　my　ear；　'Come　out　with　me　into　that　world；　that
beautiful　world；　which　God　made　for　men。　Why　do　you　reject　it？'

〃That　evening；　Domini；　was　the　beginning　of　thisthis　end。　Day　after
day　I　sat　in　the　cemetery　and　looked　out　over　the　world；　and　wondered
what　it　was　like：　what　were　the　lives　of　the　men　who　sailed　in　the
white…winged　boats；　who　crowded　on　the　steamers　whose　smoke　I　could
see　sometimes　faintly　trailing　away　into　the　track　of　the　sun；　who
kept　the　sheep　upon　the　mountains；　whowhoDomini；　can　you　imagine
no；　you　cannotwhat；　in　a　man　of　my　age；　of　my　blood；　were　these
first；　very　first；　stirrings　of　the　longing　for　life？　Sometimes　I
think　they　were　like　the　first　birth…pangs　of　a　woman　who　is　going　to
be　a　mother。〃

Domini's　hands　moved　apart；　then　joined　themselves　again。

〃There　was　something　physical　in　them。　I　felt　as　if　my　limbs　had
minds；　and　that　their　minds；　which　had　been　asleep；　were　waking。　My
arms　twitched　with　a　desire　to　stretch　themselves　towards　the　distant
blue　of　the　lakes　on　which　I　should　never　sail。　MyI　was　physically
stirred。　And　again　a