the garden of allah-第80章

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I　have　been　travelling　in　the　south　and　only　returned　yesterday。　I
have　heard　no　news　for　a　long　time　from　Beni…Mora；　but　I　know。　You　are
Madame　Androvsky。〃

〃Yes；〃　she　answered；　〃I　am　Madame　Androvsky。〃

There　was　a　silence　between　them。　In　it　she　heard　the　dripping　water
in　the　fountain。　At　last　Count　Anteoni　spoke　again。

〃It　was　written；〃　he　said　quietly。　〃It　was　written　in　the　sand。〃

She　thought　of　the　sand…diviner　and　was　silent。　An　oppression　of
spirit　had　suddenly　come　upon　her。　It　seemed　to　her　connected　with
something　physical；　something　obscure；　unusual；　such　as　she　had　never
felt　before。　It　was；　she　thought；　as　if　her　body　at　that　moment　became
more　alive　than　it　had　ever　been；　and　as　if　that　increase　of　life
within　her　gave　to　her　a　peculiar　uneasiness。　She　was　startled。　She
even　felt　alarmed；　as　at　the　faint　approach　of　something　strange；　of
something　that　was　going　to　alter　her　life。　She　did　not　know　at　all
what　it　was。　For　the　moment　a　sense　of　confusion　and　of　pain　beset
her；　and　she　was　scarcely　aware　with　whom　she　was；　or　where。　The
sensation　passed　and　she　recovered　herself　and　met　Count　Anteoni's
eyes　quietly。

〃Yes；〃　she　answered；　〃all　that　has　happened　to　me　here　in　Africa　was
written　in　the　sand　and　in　fire。〃

〃You　are　thinking　of　the　sun。〃

〃Yes。〃

〃Iwhere　are　you　living？〃

〃Close　by　on　the　sand…hill　beyond　the　city　wall。〃

〃Where　you　can　see　the　fires　lit　at　night　and　hear　the　sound　of　the
music　of　Africa？〃

〃Yes。〃

〃As　he　said。〃

〃Yes；　as　he　said。〃

Again　the　overwhelming　sense　of　some　strange　and　formidable　approach
came　over　her；　but　this　time　she　fought　it　resolutely。

〃Will　you　come　and　see　me？〃　she　said。

She　had　meant　to　say　〃us；〃　but　did　not　say　it。

〃If　you　will　allow　me。〃

〃When？〃

〃I〃　she　heard　the　odd；　upward　grating　in　his　voice　which　she
remembered　so　well。　〃May　I　come　now　if　you　are　riding　to　the　tents？〃

〃Please　do。〃

〃I　will　explain　to　the　marabout　and　follow　you。〃

〃But　the　way？　Shall　Batouch？〃

〃No；　it　is　not　necessary。〃

She　rode　away。　When　she　reached　the　camp　she　found　that　Androvsky　had
not　yet　returned；　and　she　was　glad。　She　wanted　to　talk　to　Count
Anteoni　alone。　Within　a　few　minutes　she　saw　him　coming　towards　the
tent。　His　beard　and　his　Arab　dress　so　altered　him　that　at　a　short
distance　she　could　not　recognise　him；　could　only　guess　that　it　was　he。
But　directly　he　was　near；　and　she　saw　his　eyes；　she　forgot　that　he　was
altered；　and　felt　that　she　was　with　her　kind　and　whimsical　host　of　the
garden。

〃My　husband　is　in　the　city；〃　she　said。

〃Yes。〃

〃With　the　priest。〃

She　saw　an　expression　of　surprise　flit　over　Count　Anteoni's　face。　It
went　away　instantly。

〃Pere　Beret；〃　he　said。　〃He　is　a　cheerful　creature　and　very　good　to　the
Arabs。〃

They　sat　down　just　inside　the　shadow　of　the　tent　before　the　door；　and
he　looked　out　quietly　towards　the　city。

〃Yes；　this　is　the　place；〃　he　said。

She　knew　that　he　was　alluding　to　the　vision　of　the　sand…diviner；　and
said　so。

〃Did　you　believe　at　the　time　that　what　he　said　would　come　true？〃　she
asked。

〃How　could　I？　Am　I　a　child？〃

He　spoke　with　gentle　irony；　but　she　felt　he　was　playing　with　her。

〃Cannot　a　man　believe　such　things？〃

He　did　not　answer　her；　but　said：

〃My　fate　has　come　to　pass。　Do　you　not　care　to　know　what　it　is？〃

〃Yes；　do　tell　me。〃

She　spoke　earnestly。　She　felt　a　change　in　him；　a　great　change　which　as
yet　she　did　not　understand　fully。　It　was　as　if　he　had　been　a　man　in
doubt　and　was　now　a　man　no　longer　in　doubt；　as　if　he　had　arrived　at
some　goal　and　was　more　at　peace　with　himself　than　he　had　been。

〃I　have　become　a　Mohammedan；〃　he　said　simply。

〃A　Mohammedan！〃

She　repeated　the　words　as　a　person　repeats　words　in　surprise；　but　her
voice　did　not　sound　surprised。

〃You　wonder？〃　he　asked。

After　a　moment　she　answered：

〃No。　I　never　thought　of　such　a　thing；　but　I　am　not　surprised。　Now　you
have　told　me　it　seems　to　explain　you；　much　that　I　noticed　in　you；
wondered　about　in　you。〃

She　looked　at　him　steadily；　but　without　curiosity。

〃I　feel　that　you　are　happy　now。〃

〃Yes；　I　am　happy。　The　world　I　used　to　know；　my　world　and　yours；　would
laugh　at　me；　would　say　that　I　was　crazy；　that　it　was　a　whim；　that　I
wished　for　a　new　sensation。　Simply　it　had　to　be。　For　years　I　have　been
tending　towards　itwho　knows　why？　Who　knows　what　obscure　influences
have　been　at　work　in　me；　whether　there　is　not　perhaps　far　back；　some
faint　strain　of　Arab　blood　mingled　with　the　Sicilian　blood　in　my
veins？　I　cannot　understand　why。　What　I　can　understand　is　that　at　last
I　have　fulfilled　my　destiny！　After　years　of　unrest　I　am　suddenly　and
completely　at　peace。　It　is　a　magical　sensation。　I　have　been　wandering
all　my　life　and　have　come　upon　the　open　door　of　my　home。〃

He　spoke　very　quietly；　but　she　heard　the　joy　in　his　voice。

〃I　remember　you　saying；　'I　like　to　see　men　praying　in　the　desert。'〃

〃Yes。　When　I　looked　at　them　I　was　longing　to　be　one　of　them。　For　years
from　my　garden　wall　I　watched　them　with　a　passion　of　envy；　with
bitterness；　almost　with　hatred　sometimes。　They　had　something　I　had
not；　something　that　set　them　above　me；　something　that　made　their　lives
plain　through　any　complication；　and　that　gave　to　death　a　meaning　like
the　meaning　at　the　close　of　a　great　story　that　is　going　to　have　a
sequel。　They　had　faith。　And　it　was　difficult　not　to　hate　them。　But　now
I　am　one　of　them。　I　can　pray　in　the　desert。〃

〃That　was　why　you　left　Beni…Mora。〃

〃Yes。　I　had　long　been　wishing　to　become　a　Mohammedan。　I　came　here　to
be　with　the　marabout；　to　enter　more　fully　into　certain　questions；　to
see　if　I　had　any　lingering　doubts。〃

〃And　you　have　none？〃

〃None。〃

She　looked　at　his　bright　eyes　and　sighed；　thinking　of　her　husband。

〃You　will　go　back　to　Beni…Mora？〃　she　asked。

〃I　don't　think　so。　I　am　inclined　to　go　farther　into　the　desert；
farther　among　the　people　of　my　own　faith。　I　don't　want　to　be
surrounded　by　French。　Some　day　perhaps　I　may　return。　But　at　present
everything　draws　me　onward。　Tell　me〃he　dropped　the　earnest　tone　in
which　he　had　been　speaking；　and　she　heard　once　more　the　easy；　half…
ironical　man　of　the　world〃do　you　think　me　a　half…crazy　eccentric？〃

〃No！〃

〃You　look　at　me　very　gravely；　even　sadly。〃

〃I　was　thinking　of　the　men　who　cannot　pray；〃　she　said；　〃even　in　the
desert。〃

〃They　should　not　come　into　the　Garden　of　Allah。　Don't　you　remember
that　day　by　the　garden　wall；　when〃

He　suddenly　checked　himself。

〃Forgive　me；〃　he　said　simply。　〃And　now　tell　me　about　yourself。　You
never　wrote　that　you　were　going　to　be　married。〃

〃I　knew　you　would　know　it　in　timewhen　we　met　again。〃

〃And　you　knew　we　should　meet　again？〃

〃Did　not　you？〃

He　nodded。

〃In　the　heart　of　the　desert。　And　youwhere　are　you　going？　You　are　not
returning　to　civilisation？〃

〃I　don't　know。　I　have　no　plans。　I　want　to　do　what　my　husband　wishes。〃

〃And　he？〃

〃He　loves　the　desert。　He　has　suggested　our　buying　an　oasis　and　setting
up　as　date　merchants。　What　do　you　think　of　the　idea？〃

She　spoke　with　a　smile；　but　her　eyes　were　serious；　even　sad。

〃I　cannot　judge　for　others；〃　he　answered。

When　he　got　up　to　go　he　held　her　hand　fast　for　a　moment。

〃May　I　speak　what　is　in　my　heart？〃　he　asked。

〃Yesdo。〃

〃I　feel　as　if　what　I　have　told　you　to…day　about　myself；　about　my
having　come　to　the　open　door　of　a　home　I　had　long　been　wearily
seeking；　had　made　you　sad。　Is　it　so？〃

〃Yes；〃　she　answered　frankly。

〃Can　you　tell　me　why？〃

〃It　has　made　me　realise　more　sharply　than　perhaps　I　did　before　what
must　be　the　misery　of　those　who　are　still　homeless。〃

There　was　in　her　voice　a　sound　as　if　she　suppressed　a　sob。

〃Hope　for　them；　remembering　my　many　years　of　wandering。〃

〃Yes；　yes。〃

〃Good…bye。〃

〃Will　you　come　again？〃

〃You　are　here　for　long？〃

〃Some　days；　I　think。〃

〃Whenever　you　ask　me　I　will　come。〃

〃I　want　you　and　my　husband　to　meet　again。　I　want　that　very　much。〃　She
spoke　with　a　pressure　of　eagerness。

〃Send　for　me　and　I　will　come　at　any　hour。〃

〃I　will　sendsoon。〃

When　he　was　gone；　Domini　sat　in　the　shadow　of　the　tent。　From　where　she
was　she　could　see　the　Arab　cemetery　at　a　little　distance；　a　quantity
of　stones　half　drowned　in　the　sand。　An　old　Arab　was　wandering　there
alone；　praying　for　the　dead　in　a　loud；　persistent　voice。　Sometimes　he
paused　by　a　grave；　bowed　himself　in　prayer；　then　rose　and　walked　on
again。　His　voice　was　never　silent。　The　sound　of　it　was　plaintive　and
monotonous。　Domini　listened　to　it；　and　thought　of　homeless　men；　of
those　who　had　lived　and　died　without　ever　coming　to　that　open　door
through　which　Count　Anteoni　had　entered。　His　words　and　the　changed
look　in　his　face　had　made　a　deep　impression　upon　her。　She　realised
that　in　the　garden；　when　they　were　together；　his　eyes；　even　when　they
twinkled　with　the　slightly　ironical　humour　peculiar　to　him；　had　always
held　a　shadow。　Now　that　shadow　was　lifted　out　of　them。　How　deep　was
the　shadow　in　her　husband's　eyes。　How　deep　had　it　been　in　the　eyes　of
her　father。　He　had　died　with　that　terrible　darkness　in　his　eyes　and　in
his　soul。　If　her　husband　were　to　die　thus！　A　terror　came　upon　her。　She
looked　out　at　the　stones　in　the　sand　and　imagined　herself　thereas
the　old　Arab　waspraying　for　Androvsky　buried　there；　hidden　from　her
on　earth　for　ever。　And　suddenly　she　felt；　〃I　cannot　wait；　I　must　act。〃

Her　faith　was　deep　and　strong。　Nothing　could　shake　it。　But　might　it
not　shake　the　doubt　from　another's　soul；　as　a　great；　pure　wind　shakes
leaves　that　are　dead　from　a　tree　that　will　blossom　with　the　spring？
Hitherto　a　sense　of　intense　delicacy　had　prevented　her　from　ever
trying　to　draw　near　definitely　to　her　husband's　sadness。　But　her
interview　with　Count　Anteoni；　and　the　sound　of　this　voice　praying；
praying　for　the　dead　men　in　the　sand；　stirred　her　to　an　almost　fierce
resolution。　She　had　given　herself　to　Androvsky。　He　had　given　himself
to　her。　They　were　one。　She　had　a　right　to　draw　near　to　his　pain；　if　by
so　doing　there　was　a　chance　that　she　might　bring　balm　to　it。　She　had　a
right　to　look　closer　into　his　eyes　if　hers；　full　of　faith；　could　lift
the　shadow　from　them。

She　leaned　back　in　the　darkness　of　the　tent。　The　old　Arab　had　wandered
further　on　among　the　graves。　His　voice　was　faint　in　the　sand；　faint
and　surely　piteous；　as　if；　even　while　he　prayed；　he　felt　that　his
prayers　were　useless；　that　the　fate　of　the　dead　was　pronounced　beyond
recall。　Domini　listened　to　him　no　more。　She　was　praying　for　the　living
as　she　had　never　prayed　before；　and　her　prayer　was　the　prelude　not　to
patience　but　to　action。　It　was　as　if　her　conversation　with　Count
Anteoni　had　set　a　torch　to　something　in　her　soul；　something　that　gave
out　a　great　flame；　a　flame　that　could　surely　burn　up　the　sorrow；　the
fear；　the　secret　torture　in　her　husband's　soul。　All　the　strength　of
her　character　had　been　roused　by　the　sight　of　the　peace　she　desired
for　the　man　she　loved；　enthroned　in　the　heart　of　this　other　man　who
was　only　her　friend。

The　voice　of　the　old　Arab　died　away　in　the　distance；　but　before　it
died　away　Domini　had　ceased　from　hearing　it。

She　heard　only　a　voice　within　her；　which　said　to　her；　〃If　you　really
love　be　fearless。　Attack　this　sorrow　which