the garden of allah-第85章

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turn　my　eyes　from　it。　But　the　woman　never　came　again。　I　said　nothing
to　the　Reverend　Pere　of　what　I　had　done。　I　ought　to　have　spoken；　but　I
did　not。　I　kept　it　back　when　I　confessed。　From　that　moment　I　had　a
secret；　and　it　was　a　secret　connected　with　a　woman。

〃Does　it　seem　strange　to　you　that　this　secret　seemed　to　me　to　set　me
apart　from　all　the　other　monksnearer　the　world？　It　was　so。　I　felt
sometimes　as　if　I　had　been　out　into　the　world　for　a　moment；　had　known
the　meaning　that　women　have　for　men。　I　wondered　who　the　woman　was。　I
wondered　how　she　had　loved　the　young　monk　who　was　dead。　He　used　to　sit
beside　me　in　the　chapel。　He　had　a　pure　and　beautiful　face；　such　a
face；　I　supposed；　as　a　woman　might　well　love。　Had　this　woman　loved
him；　and　had　he　rejected　her　love　for　the　life　of　the　monastery？　I
remember　one　day　thinking　of　this　and　wondering　how　it　had　been
possible　for　him　to　do　so；　and　then　suddenly　realising　the　meaning　of
my　thought　and　turning　hot　with　shame。　I　had　put　the　love　of　woman
above　the　love　of　God；　woman's　service　above　God's　service。　That　day　I
was　terrified　of　myself。　I　went　back　to　the　monastery　from　the
cemetery；　quickly；　asked　to　see　the　Reverend　Pere；　and　begged　him　to
remove　me　from　the　cemetery；　to　give　me　some　other　work。　He　did　not
ask　my　reason　for　wishing　to　change；　but　three　days　afterwards　he　sent
for　me；　and　told　me　that　I　was　to　be　placed　in　charge　of　the
/hotellerie/　of　the　monastery；　and　that　my　duties　there　were　to　begin
upon　the　morrow。

〃Domini；　I　wonder　if　I　can　make　you　realise　what　that　change　meant　to
a　man　who　had　lived　as　I　had　for　so　many　years。　The　/hotellerie/　of
El…Largani　is　a　long；　low；　one…storied　building　standing　in　a　garden
full　of　palms　and　geraniums。　It　contains　a　kitchen；　a　number　of　little
rooms　like　cells　for　visitors；　and　two　large　parlours　in　which　guests
are　entertained　at　meals。　In　one　they　sit　to　eat　the　fruit；　eggs；　and
vegetables　provided　by　the　monastery；　with　wine。　If　after　the　meal
they　wish　to　take　coffee　they　pass　into　the　second　parlour。　Visitors
who　stay　in　the　monastery　are　free　to　do　much　as　they　please；　but　they
must　conform　to　certain　rules。　They　rise　at　a　certain　hour；　feed　at
fixed　times；　and　are　obliged　to　go　to　their　bedrooms　at　half…past
seven　in　the　evening　in　winter；　and　at　eight　in　summer。　The　monk　in
charge　of　the　/hotellerie/　has　to　see　to　their　comfort。　He　looks　after
the　kitchen；　is　always　in　the　parlour　at　some　moment　or　another　during
meals。　He　visits　the　bedrooms　and　takes　care　that　the　one　servant
keeps　everything　spotlessly　clean。　He　shows　people　round　the　garden。
His　duties；　you　see；　are　light　and　social。　He　cannot　go　into　the
world；　but　he　can　mix　with　the　world　that　comes　to　him。　It　is　his
task；　if　not　his　pleasure；　to　be　cheerful；　talkative；　sympathetic；　a
good　host；　with　a　genial　welcome　for　all　who　come　to　La　Trappe。　After
my　years　of　labour；　solitude；　silence；　and　prayer；　I　was　abruptly　put
into　this　new　life。

〃Domini；　to　me　it　was　like　rushing　out　into　the　world。　I　was　almost
dazed　by　the　change。　At　first　I　was　nervous；　timid；　awkward；　and；
especially；　tongue…tied。　The　habit　of　silence　had　taken　such　a　hold
upon　me　that　I　could　not　throw　it　off。　I　dreaded　the　coming　of
visitors。　I　did　not　know　how　to　receive　them；　what　to　say　to　them。
Fortunately；　as　I　thought；　the　tourist　season　was　over；　the　summer　was
approaching。　Very　few　people　came；　and　those　only　to　eat　a　meal。　I
tried　to　be　polite　and　pleasant　to　them；　and　gradually　I　began　to　fall
into　the　way　of　talking　without　the　difficulty　I　had　experienced　at
first。　In　the　beginning　I　could　not　open　my　lips　without　feeling　as　if
I　were　almost　committing　a　crime。　But　presently　I　was　more　natural；
less　taciturn。　I　even；　now　and　then；　took　some　pleasure　in　speaking　to
a　pleasant　visitor。　I　grew　to　love　the　garden　with　its　flowers；　its
orange　trees；　its　groves　of　eucalyptus；　its　vineyard　which　sloped
towards　the　cemetery。　Often　I　wandered　in　it　alone；　or　sat　under　the
arcade　that　divided　it　from　the　large　entrance　court　of　the　monastery；
meditating；　listening　to　the　bees　humming；　and　watching　the　cats
basking　in　the　sunshine。

〃Sometimes；　when　I　was　there；　I　thought　of　the　woman's　face　above　the
cemetery　wall。　Sometimes　I　seemed　to　feel　the　hand　tugging　at　mine。
But　I　was　more　at　peace　than　I　had　been　in　the　cemetery。　For　from　the
garden　I　could　not　see　the　distant　world；　and　of　the　chance　visitors
none　had　as　yet　set　a　match　to　the　torch　that；　unknown　to　me；　was
readyat　the　coming　of　the　smallest　sparkto　burst　into　a　flame。

〃One　day；　it　was　in　the　morning　towards　half…past　ten；　when　I　was
sitting　reading　my　Greek　Testament　on　a　bench　just　inside　the　doorway
of　the　/hotellerie/；　I　heard　the　great　door　of　the　monastery　being
opened；　and　then　the　rolling　of　carriage　wheels　in　the　courtyard。　Some
visitor　had　arrived　from　Tunis；　perhaps　some　visitorsthree　or　four。
It　was　a　radiant　morning　of　late　May。　The　garden　was　brilliant　with
flowers；　golden　with　sunshine；　tender　with　shade；　and　quietquiet　and
peaceful；　Domini！　There　was　a　wonderful　peace　in　the　garden　that　day；
a　peace　that　seemed　full　of　safety；　of　enduring　cheerfulness。　The
flowers　looked　as　if　they　had　hearts　to　understand　it；　and　love　it；
the　roses　along　the　yellow　wall　of　the　house　that　clambered　to　the
brown　red　tiles；　the　geraniums　that　grew　in　masses　under　the　shining
leaves　of　the　orange　trees；　theI　felt　as　if　that　day　I　were　in　the
Garden　of　Eden；　and　I　remember　that　when　I　heard　the　carriage　wheels　I
had　a　moment　of　selfish　sadness。　I　thought：　'Why　does　anyone　come　to
disturb　my　blessed　peace；　my　blessed　solitude？'　Then　I　realised　the
egoism　of　my　thought　and　that　I　was　there　with　my　duty。　I　got　up；　went
into　the　kitchen　and　said　to　Francois；　the　servant；　that　someone　had
come　and　no　doubt　would　stay　to　/dejeuner/。　And；　as　I　spoke；　already　I
was　thinking　of　the　moment　when　I　should　hear　the　roll　of　wheels　once
more；　the　clang　of　the　shutting　gate；　and　know　that　the　intruders　upon
the　peace　of　the　Trappists　had　gone　back　to　the　world；　and　that　I
could　once　more　be　alone　in　the　little　Eden　I　loved。

〃Strangely；　Domini；　strangely；　that　day；　of　all　the　days　of　my　life；　I
was　most　in　loveit　was　like　that；　like　being　in　lovewith　my　monk's
existence。　The　terrible　feeling　that　had　begun　to　ravage　me　had
completely　died　away。　I　adored　the　peace　in　which　my　days　were　passed。
I　looked　at　the　flowers　and　compared　my　happiness　with　theirs。　They
blossomed；　bloomed；　faded；　died　in　the　garden。　So　would　I　wish　to
blossom；　bloom；　fadewhen　my　time　camedie　in　the　gardenalways　in
peace；　always　in　safety；　always　isolated　from　the　terrors　of　life；
always　under　the　tender　watchful　eye　ofofDomini；　that　day　I　was
happy；　as　perhaps　they　areperhapsthe　saints　in　Paradise。　I　was
happy　because　I　felt　no　inclination　to　evil。　I　felt　as　if　my　joy　lay
entirely　in　being　innocent。　Oh；　what　an　ecstasy　such　a　feeling　is！　'My
will　accord　with　Thy　designI　love　to　live　as　Thou　intendest　me　to
live！　Any　other　way　of　life　would　be　to　me　a　terror；　would　bring　to　me
despair。'

〃And　I　felt　thatintensely　I　felt　it　at　that　moment　in　heart　and
soul。　It　was　as　if　I　had　God's　arms　round　me；　caressing　me　as　a　father
caresses　his　child。〃

He　moved　away　a　step　or　two　in　the　sand；　came　back；　and　went　on　with
an　effort：

〃Within　a　few　minutes　the　porter　of　the　monastery　came　through　the
archway　of　the　arcade　followed　by　a　young　man。　As　I　looked　up　at　him　I
was　uncertain　of　his　nationality。　But　I　scarcely　thought　about　it
except　in　the　first　moment。　For　something　else　seized　my　attention
the　intense；　active　misery　in　the　stranger's　face。　He　looked　ravaged；
eaten　by　grief。　I　said　he　was　youngperhaps　twenty…six　or　twenty…
seven。　His　face　was　rather　dark…complexioned；　with　small；　good
features。　He　had　thick　brown　hair；　and　his　eyes　shone　with
intelligence；　with　an　intelligence　that　was　almost　painfulsomehow。
His　eyes　always　looked　to　me　as　if　they　were　seeing　too　much；　had
always　seen　too　much。　There　was　a　restlessness　in　the　swiftness　of
their　observation。　One　could　not　conceive　of　them　closed　in　sleep。　An
activity　that　must　surely　be　eternal　blazed　in　them。

〃The　porter　left　the　stranger　in　the　archway。　It　was　now　my　duty　to
attend　to　him。　I　welcomed　him　in　French。　He　took　off　his　hat。　When　he
did　that　I　felt　sure　he　was　an　Englishmanby　the　look　of　him
bareheadedand　I　told　him　that　I　spoke　English　as　well　as　French。　He
answered　that　he　was　at　home　in　French；　but　that　he　was　English。　We
talked　English。　His　entrance　into　the　garden　had　entirely　destroyed　my
sense　of　its　peaceeven　my　own　peace　was　disturbed　at　once　by　his
appearance。

〃I　felt　that　I　was　in　the　presence　of　a　misery　that　was　like　a
devouring　element。　Before　we　had　time　for　more　than　a　very　few　halting
words　the　bell　was　rung　by　Francois。

〃'What's　that　for；　Father？'　the　stranger　said；　with　a　start；　which
showed　that　his　nerves　were　shattered。

〃'It　is　time　for　your　meal；'　I　answered。

〃'One　must　eat！'　he　said。　Then；　as　if　conscious　that　he　was　behaving
oddly；　he　added　politely：

〃'I　know　you　entertain　us　too　well　here；　and　have　sometimes　been
rewarded　with　coarse　ingratitude。　Where　do　I　go？'

〃I　showed　him　into　the　parlour。　There　was　no　one　there　that　day。　He
sat　at　the　long　table。

〃'I　am　to　eat　alone？'　he　asked。

〃'Yes；　I　will　serve　you。'

〃Francois；　always　waited　on　the　guests；　but　that　daymindful　of　the
selfishness　of　my　thoughts　in　the　gardenI　resolved　to　add　to　my
duties。　I　therefore　brought　the　soup；　the　lentils；　the　omelette；　the
oranges；　poured　out　the　wine；　and　urged　the　young　man　cordially　to
eat。　When　I　did　so　he　looked　up　at　me。　His　eyes　were　extraordinarily
expressive。　It　was　as　if　I　heard　them　say　to　me；　'Why；　I　like　you！'
and　as　if；　just　for　a　moment；　his　grief　were　lessened。

〃In　the　empty　parlour；　long；　clean；　bare；　with　a　crucifix　on　the　wall
and　the　name　'Saint　Bernard'　above　the　door；　it　was　very　quiet；　very
shady。　The　outer　blinds　of　green　wood　were　drawn　over　the　window…
spaces；　shutting　out　the　gold　of　the　garden。　But　its　murmuring
tranquillity　seemed　to　filter　in；　as　if　the　flowers；　the　insects；　the
birds　were　aware　of　our　presence　and　were　trying　to　say　to　us；　'Are
you　happy　as　we　are？　Be　happy　as　we　are。'

〃The　stranger　looked　at　the　shady　room；　the　open　windows。　He　sighed。

〃'How　quiet　it　is　here！'　he　said；　almost　as　if　to　himself。　'How　quiet
it　is！'

〃'Yes；'　I　answered。　'Summer　is　beginning。　For　months　now　scarcely
anyone　will　come　to　us　here。'

〃'Us？'　he　said；　glancing　at　me　with　a　sudden　smile。

〃'I　meant　to　us　who　are　monks；　who　live　always　here。'

〃'May　Iis　it　indiscreet　to　ask　if　you　have　been　here　long？'

〃I　told　him。

〃'More　than　nineteen　years！'　he　said。

〃'Yes。'

〃'And　always　in　this　silence？'

〃He　sat　as　if　listening；　resting　his　head　on　his　hand。

〃'How　extraordinary！'　he　said　at　last。　'How　wonderful！　Is　it
happiness？'

〃I　did　not　answer。　The　question　seemed　to　me　to　be　addressed　to
himself；　not　to　me。　I　could　leave　him　to　seek　for　the　answer。　After　a
moment　he　went　on　eating　and　drinking　in　silence。　When　he　had　finished
I　asked　him　whether　he　would　take　coffee。　He　said　he　would；　and　I　mad