the garden of allah-第41章

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begin　to　grow；　like　the　palm　tree　rising　towards　the　African　sun。〃

〃I　do　not　think　you　have　ever　been　very　unhappy；〃　he　said。　The　sound
of　his　voice　as　he　said　it　made　her　suddenly　feel　as　if　it　were　true；
as　if　she　had　never　been　utterly　unhappy。　Yet　she　had　never　been
really　happy。　Africa　had　taught　her　that。

〃Perhaps　not；〃　she　answered。　〃Butsome　day〃

She　stopped。

〃Yes；　Madame？〃

〃Could　one　stay　long　in　such　a　world　as　this　and　not　be　either
intensely　happy　or　intensely　unhappy？　I　don't　feel　as　if　it　would　be
possible。　Fierceness　and　fire　beat　upon　one　day　after　day　andone
must　learn　to　feel　here。〃

As　she　spoke　a　sensation　of　doubt；　almost　of　apprehension；　came　to
her。　She　was　overtaken　by　a　terror　of　the　desert。　For　a　moment　it
seemed　to　her　that　he　was　right；　that　it　were　better　never　to　be　the
prey　of　any　deep　emotion。

〃If　one　does　not　wish　to　feel　one　should　never　come　to　such　a　place　as
this；〃　she　added。

And　she　longed　to　ask　him　why　he　was　here；　he；　a　man　whose　philosophy
told　him　to　avoid　the　heights　and　depths；　to　shun　the　ardours　of
nature　and　of　life。

〃Or；　having　come；　one　should　leave　it。〃

A　sensation　of　lurking　danger　increased　upon　her；　bringing　with　it　the
thought　of　flight。

〃One　can　always　do　that；〃　she　said；　looking　at　him。　She　saw　fear　in
his　eyes；　but　it　seemed　to　her　that　it　was　not　fear　of　peril；　but　fear
of　flight。　So　strongly　was　this　idea　borne　in　upon　her　that　she
bluntly　exclaimed：

〃Unless　it　is　one's　nature　to　face　things；　never　to　turn　one's　back。
Is　it　yours；　Monsieur　Androvsky？〃

〃Fear　could　never　drive　me　to　leave　Beni…Moni；〃　he　answered。

〃Sometimes　I　think　that　the　only　virtue　in　us　is　courage；〃　she　said；
〃that　it　includes　all　the　others。　I　believe　I　could　forgive　everything
where　I　found　absolute　courage。〃

Androvsky's　eyes　were　lit　up　as　if　by　a　flicker　of　inward　fire。

〃You　might　create　the　virtue　you　love；〃　he　said　hoarsely。

They　looked　at　each　other　for　a　moment。　Did　he　mean　that　she　might
create　it　in　him？

Perhaps　she　would　have　asked；　or　perhaps　he　would　have　told　her；　but
at　that　moment　something　happened。　Larbi　stopped　playing。　In　the　last
few　minutes　they　had　both　forgotten　that　he　was　playing；　but　when　he
ceased　the　garden　changed。　Something　was　withdrawn　in　which；　without
knowing　it；　they　had　been　protecting　themselves；　and　when　the　music
faded　their　armour　dropped　away　from　them。　With　the　complete　silence
came　an　altered　atmosphere；　the　tenderness　of　mysticism　instead　of　the
tenderness　of　a　wild　humanity。　The　love　of　man　seemed　to　depart　out　of
the　garden　and　another　love　to　enter　it；　as　when　God　walked　under　the
trees　in　the　cool　of　the　day。　And　they　sat　quite　still；　as　if　a　common
impulse　muted　their　lips。　In　the　long　silence　that　followed　Domini
thought　of　her　mirage　of　the　palm　tree　growing　towards　the　African
sun；　feeling　growing　in　the　heart　of　a　human　being。　But　was　it　a
worthy　image？　For　the　palm　tree　rises　high。　It　soars　into　the　air。　But
presently　it　ceases　to　grow。　There　is　nothing　infinite　in　its　growth。
And　the　long；　hot　years　pass　away　and　there　it　stands；　never　nearer　to
the　infinite　gold　of　the　sun。　But　in　the　intense　feeling　of　a　man　or
woman　is　there　not　infinitude？　Is　there　not　a　movement　that　is
ceaseless　till　death　comes　to　destroyor　to　translate？

That　was　what　she　was　thinking　in　the　silence　of　the　garden。　And
Androvsky？　He　sat　beside　her　with　his　head　bent；　his　hands　hanging
between　his　knees；　his　eyes　gazing　before　him　at　the　ordered　tangle　of
the　great　trees。　His　lips　were　slightly　parted；　and　on　his　strongly…
marked　face　there　was　an　expression　as　of　emotional　peace；　as　if　the
soul　of　the　man　were　feeling　deeply　in　calm。　The　restlessness；　the
violence　that　had　made　his　demeanour　so　embarrassing　during　and　after
the　/dejeuner/　had　vanished。　He　was　a　different　man。　And　presently；
noticing　it；　feeling　his　sensitive　serenity；　Domini　seemed　to　see　the
great　Mother　at　work　about　this　child　of　hers；　Nature　at　her　tender
task　of　pacification。　The　shared　silence　became　to　her　like　a　song　of
thanksgiving；　in　which　all　the　green　things　of　the　garden　joined。　And
beyond　them　the　desert　lay　listening；　the　Garden　of　Allah　attentive　to
the　voices　of　man's　garden。　She　could　hardly　believe　that　but　a　few
minutes　before　she　had　been　full　of　irritation　and　bitterness；　not
free　even　from　a　touch　of　pride　that　was　almost　petty。　But　when　she
remembered　that　it　was　so　she　realised　the　abysses　and　the　heights　of
which　the　heart　is　mingled；　and　an　intense　desire　came　to　her　to　be
always　upon　the　heights　of　her　own　heart。　For　there　only　was　the　light
of　happiness。　Never　could　she　know　joy　if　she　forswore　nobility。　Never
could　she　be　at　peace　with　the　love　within　herlove　of　something　that
was　not　self；　of　something　that　seemed　vaguer　than　God；　as　if　it　had
entered　into　God　and　made　him　Loveunless　she　mounted　upwards　during
her　little　span　of　life。　Again；　as　before　in　this　land；　in　the　first
sunset；　on　the　tower；　on　the　minaret　of　the　mosque　of　Sidi…Zerzour；
Nature　spoke　to　her　intimate　words　of　inspiration；　laid　upon　her　the
hands　of　healing；　giving　her　powers　she　surely　had　not　known　or
conceived　of　till　now。　And　the　passion　that　is　the　chiefest　grace　of
goodness；　making　it　the　fire　that　purifies；　as　it　is　the　little　sister
of　the　poor　that　tends　the　suffering；　the　hungry；　the　groping　beggar…
world；　stirred　within　her；　like　the　child　not　yet　born；　but　whose
destiny　is　with　the　angels。　And　she　longed　to　make　some　great　offering
at　the　altar　on　whose　lowest　step　she　stood；　and　she　was　filled；　for
the　first　time　consciously；　with　woman's　sacred　desire　for　sacrifice。

A　soft　step　on　the　sand　broke　the　silence　and　scattered　her
aspirations。　Count　Anteoni　was　coming　towards　them　between　the　trees。
The　light　of　happiness　was　still　upon　his　face　and　made　him　look　much
younger　than　usual。　His　whole　bearing；　in　its　elasticity　and　buoyant
courage；　was　full　of　anticipation。　As　he　came　up　to　them　he　said　to
Domini：

〃Do　you　remember　chiding　me？〃

〃I！〃　she　said。　〃For　what？〃

Androvsky　sat　up　and　the　expression　of　serenity　passed　away　from　his
face。

〃For　never　galloping　away　into　the　sun。〃

〃Oh！yes；　I　do　remember。〃

〃Well；　I　am　going　to　obey　you。　I　am　going　to　make　a　journey。〃

〃Into　the　desert？〃

〃Three　hundred　kilometers　on　horseback。　I　start　to…morrow。〃

She　looked　up　at　him　with　a　new　interest。　He　saw　it　and　laughed；
almost　like　a　boy。

〃Ah；　your　contempt　for　me　is　dying！〃

〃How　can　you　speak　of　contempt？〃

〃But　you　were　full　of　it。〃　He　turned　to　Androvsky。　〃Miss　Enfilden
thought　I　could　not　sit　a　horse；　Monsieur；　unlike　you。　Forgive　me　for
saying　that　you　are　almost　more　dare…devil　than　the　Arabs　themselves。
I　saw　you　the　other　day　set　your　stallion　at　the　bank　of　the　river
bed。　I　did　not　think　any　horse　could　have　done　it；　but　you　knew
better。〃

〃I　did　not　know　at　all；〃　said　Androvsky。　〃I　had　not　ridden　for　over
twenty　years　until　that　day。〃

He　spoke　with　a　blunt　determination　which　made　Domini　remember　their
recent　conversation　on　truth…telling。

〃Dio　mio！〃　said　the　Count；　slowly；　and　looking　at　him　with　undisguised
wonder。　〃You　must　have　a　will　and　a　frame　of　iron。〃

〃I　am　pretty　strong。〃

He　spoke　rather　roughly。　Since　the　Count　had　joined　them　Domini
noticed　that　Androvsky　had　become　a　different　man。　Once　more　he　was　on
the　defensive。　The　Count　did　not　seem　to　notice　it。　Perhaps　he　was　too
radiant。

〃I　hope　I　shall　endure　as　well　as　you；　Monsieur；〃　he　said。　〃I　go　to
Beni…Hassan　to　visit　Sidi　El　Hadj　Aissa；　one　of　the　mightiest
marabouts　in　the　Sahara。　In　your　Church；〃　he　added；　turning　again　to
Domini；　〃he　would　be　a　powerful　Cardinal。〃

She　noticed　the　〃your。〃　Evidently　the　Count　was　not　a　professing
Catholic。　Doubtless；　like　many　modern　Italians；　he　was　a　free…thinker
in　matters　of　religion。

〃I　am　afraid　I　have　never　heard　of　him；〃　she　said。　〃In　which　direction
does　Beni…Hassan　lie？〃

〃To　go　there　one　takes　the　caravan　route　that　the　natives　call　the
route　to　Tombouctou。〃

An　eager　look　came　into　her　face。

〃My　road！〃　she　said。

〃Yours？〃

〃The　one　I　shall　travel　on。　You　remember；　Monsieur　Androvsky？〃

〃Yes；　Madame。〃

〃Let　me　into　your　secret；〃　said　the　Count；　laughingly；　yet　with
interest　too。

〃It　is　no　secret。　It　is　only　that　I　love　that　route。　It　fascinates　me；
and　I　mean　some　day　to　make　a　desert　journey　along　it。〃

〃What　a　pity　that　we　cannot　join　forces；〃　the　Count　said。　〃I　should
feel　it　an　honour　to　show　the　desert　to　one　who　has　the　reverence　for
it；　the　understanding　of　its　spell；　that　you　have。〃

He　spoke　earnestly；　paused；　and　then　added：

〃But　I　know　well　what　you　are　thinking。〃

〃What　is　that？〃

〃That　you　will　go　to　the　desert　alone。　You　are　right。　It　is　the　only
way；　at　any　rate　the　first　time。　I　went　like　that　many　years　ago。〃

She　said　nothing　in　assent；　and　Androvsky　got　up　from　the　bench。

〃I　must　go；　Monsieur。〃

〃Already！　But　have　you　seen　the　garden？〃

〃It　is　wonderful。　Good…bye；　Monsieur。　Thank　you。〃

〃Butlet　me　see　you　to　the　gate。　On　Fridays〃

He　was　turning　to　Domini　when　she　got　up　too。

〃Don't　you　distribute　alms　on　Fridays？〃　she　said。

〃How　should　you　know　it？〃

〃I　have　heard　all　about　you。　But　is　this　the　hour？〃

〃Yes。〃

〃Let　me　see　the　distribution。〃

〃And　we　will　speed　Monsieur　Androvsky　on　his　way　at　the　same　time。〃

She　noticed　that　there　was　no　question　in　his　mind　of　her　going　with
Androvsky。　Did　she　mean　to　go　with　him？　She　had　not　decided　yet。

They　walked　towards　the　gate　and　were　soon　on　the　great　sweep　of　sand
before　the　villa。　A　murmur　of　many　voices　was　audible　outside　in　the
desert；　nasal　exclamations；　loud　guttural　cries　that　sounded　angry；
the　twittering　of　flutes　and　the　snarl　of　camels。

〃Do　you　hear　my　pensioners？〃　said　the　Count。　〃They　are　always
impatient。〃

There　was　the　noise　of　a　tomtom　and　of　a　whining　shriek。

〃That　is　old　Bel　Cassem's　announcement　of　his　presence。　He　has　been
living　on　me　for　years；　the　old　ruffian；　ever　since　his　right　eye　was
gouged　out　by　his　rival　in　the　affections　of　the　Marechale　of　the
dancing…girls。　Smain！〃

He　blew　his　silver　whistle。　Instantly　Smain　came　out　of　the　villa
carrying　a　money…bag。　The　Count　took　it　and　weighed　it　in　his　hand；
looking　at　Domini　with　the　joyous　expression　still　upon　his　face。

〃Have　you　ever　made　a　thank…offering？〃　he　said。

〃No。〃

〃That　tells　me　something。　Well；　to…day　I　wish　to　make　a　thank…offering
to　the　desert。〃

〃What　has　it　done　for　you？〃

〃Who　knows？　Who　knows？〃

He　laughed　aloud；　almost　like　a　boy。　Androvsky　glanced　at　him　with　a
sort　of　wondering　envy。

〃And　I　want　you　to　share　in　my　little　distribution；〃　he　added。　〃And
you；　Monsieur；　if　you　don't　mind。　There　are　moments　when　Open　the
gate；　Smain！〃

His　ardour　was　infectious　and　Domini　felt　stirred　by　it　to　a　sudden
sense　of　the　joy　of　life。　She　looked　at　Androvsky；　to　include　him　in
the　rigour　of　gaiety　which　swept　from　the　Count　to　her；　and　found　him
staring　apprehensively　at　the　Count；　who　was　now　loosening　the　string
of　the　bag。　Smain　had　reached　the　gate。　He　lifted　the　bar　of　wood　and
opened　it。　Instantly　a　crowd　of　dark　faces　and　turbaned　he