the garden of allah-第10节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


the　only　English　here；　and　almost　the　only　travellers。　It　is　too　early
for　many　travellers　yet。　They　fear　the　heat。　And　besides；　few　English
come　here　now。　What　a　pity！　They　spend　money；　and　like　to　see
everything。　Hadj　is　very　anxious　to　buy　a　costume　at　Tunis　for　the
great　/fete/　at　the　end　of　Ramadan。　It　will　cost　fifty　or　sixty
francs。　He　hopes　the　Englishman　is　rich。　But　all　the　English　are　rich
and　generous。〃

Here　Batouch　looked　steadily　at　Domini　with　his　large；　unconcerned
eyes。

〃This　one　speaks　Arabic　a　little。〃

Domini　made　no　reply。　She　was　surprised　by　this　piece　of　information。
There　was　something；　she　thought；　essentially　un…English　about　the
stranger。　He　was　certainly　not　dressed　by　an　English　tailor。　But　it
was　not　only　that　which　had　caused　her　mistake。　His　whole　air　and
look；　his　manner　of　holding　himself；　of　sitting；　of　walkingyes；
especially　of　walkingwere　surely　foreign。　Yet；　when　she　came　to
think　about　it；　she　could　not　say　that　they　were　characteristic　of　any
other　country。　Idly　she　had　said　to　herself　that　the　stranger　might　be
an　Austrian　or　a　Russian。　But　she　had　been　thinking　of　his　colouring。
It　happened　that　two　/attaches/　of　those　two　nations；　whom　she　had　met
frequently　in　London；　had　hair　of　that　shade　of　rather　warm　brown。

〃He　does　not　look　like　an　Englishman；〃　she　said　presently。

〃He　can　talk　in　French　and　in　Arabic；　but　Hadj　says　he　is　English。〃

〃How　should　Hadj　know？〃

〃Because　he　has　the　eyes　of　the　jackal；　and　has　been　with　many
English。　We　are　getting　near　to　the　Catholic　church；　Madame。　You　will
see　it　through　the　trees。　And　there　is　Monsieur　the　Cure　coming
towards　us。　He　is　coming　from　his　house；　which　is　near　the　hotel。〃

At　some　distance　in　the　twilight　of　the　tunnel　Domini　saw　a　black
figure　in　a　soutane　walking　very　slowly　towards　them。　The　stranger；
who　had　been　covering　the　ground　rapidly　with　his　curious；　shuffling
stride；　was　much　nearer　to　it　than　they　were；　and；　if　he　kept　on　at
his　present　pace；　would　soon　pass　it。　But　suddenly　Domini　saw　him
pause　and　hesitate。　He　bent　down　and　seemed　to　be　doing　something　to
his　boot。　Hadj　dropped　the　green　bag；　and　was　evidently　about　to　kneel
down；　and　assist　him　when　he　lifted　himself　up　abruptly　and　looked
before　him；　as　if　at　the　priest　who　was　approaching；　then　turned
sharply　to　the　right　into　a　path　which　led　out　of　the　garden　to　the
arcades　of　the　Rue　Berthe。　Hadj　followed；　gesticulating　frantically；
and　volubly　explaining　that　the　hotel　was　in　the　opposite　direction。
But　the　stranger　did　not　stop。　He　only　glanced　swiftly　back　over　his
shoulder　once；　and　then　continued　on　his　way。

〃What　a　funny　man　that　is！〃　said　Batouch。　〃What　does　he　want　to　do？〃

Domini　did　not　answer　him；　for　the　priest　was　just　passing　them；　and
she　saw　the　church　to　the　left　among　the　trees。　It　was　a　plain；
unpretending　building；　with　a　white　wooden　door　set　in　an　arch。　Above
the　arch　were　a　small　cross；　two　windows　with　rounded　tops；　a　clock；
and　a　white　tower　with　a　pink　roof。　She　looked　at　it；　and　at　the
priest；　whose　face　was　dark　and　meditative；　with　lustrous；　but　sad；
brown　eyes。　Yet　she　thought　of　the　stranger。

Her　attention　was　beginning　to　be　strongly　fixed　upon　the　unknown　man。
His　appearance　and　manner　were　so　unusual　that　it　was　impossible　not
to　notice　him。

〃There　is　the　hotel；　Madame！〃　said　Batouch。

Domini　saw　it　standing　at　right　angles　to　the　church；　facing　the
gardens。　A　little　way　back　from　the　church　was　the　priest's　house；　a
white　building　shaded　by　date　palms　and　pepper　trees。　As　they　drew
near　the　stranger　reappeared　under　the　arcade；　above　which　was　the
terrace　of　the　hotel。　He　vanished　through　the　big　doorway；　followed　by
Hadj。

While　Suzanne　was　unpacking　Domini　came　out　on　to　the　broad　terrace
which　ran　along　the　whole　length　of　the　Hotel　du　Desert。　Her　bedroom
opened　on　to　it　in　front；　and　at　the　back　communicated　with　a　small
salon。　This　salon　opened　on　to　a　second　and　smaller　terrace；　from
which　the　desert　could　be　seen　beyond　the　palms。　There　seemed　to　be　no
guests　in　the　hotel。　The　verandah　was　deserted；　and　the　peace　of　the
soft　evening　was　profound。　Against　the　white　parapet　a　small；　round
table　and　a　cane　armchair　had　been　placed。　A　subdued　patter　of　feet　in
slippers　came　up　the　stairway；　and　an　Arab　servant　appeared　with　a
tea…tray。　He　put　it　down　on　the　table　with　the　precise　deftness　which
Domini　had　already　observed　in　the　Arabs　at　Robertville；　and　swiftly
vanished。　She　sat　down　in　the　chair　and　poured　out　the　tea；　leaning
her　left　arm　on　the　parapet。

Her　head　was　very　tired　and　her　temples　felt　compressed。　She　was
thankful　for　the　quiet　round　her。　Any　harsh　voice　would　have　been
intolerable　to　her　just　then。　There　were　many　sounds　in　the　village；
but　they　were　vague；　and　mingled；　flowing　together　and　composing　one
sound　that　was　soothing；　the　restrained　and　level　voice　of　Life。　It
hummed　in　Domini's　ears　as　she　sipped　her　tea；　and　gave　an　under…side
of　romance　to　the　peace。　The　light　that　floated　in　under　the　round
arches　of　the　terrace　was　subdued。　The　sun　had　just　gone　down；　and　the
bright　colours　bloomed　no　more　upon　the　mountains；　which　looked　like
silent　monsters　that　had　lost　the　hue　of　youth　and　had　suddenly　become
mysteriously　old。　The　evening　star　shone　in　a　sky　that　still　held　on
its　Western　border　some　last　pale　glimmerings　of　day；　and；　at　its
signal；　many　dusky　wanderers　folded　their　loose　garments　round　them；
slung　their　long　guns　across　their　shoulders；　and　prepared　to　start　on
their　journey；　helped　by　the　cool　night　wind　that　blows　in　the　desert
when　the　sun　departs。

Domini　did　not　know　of　them；　but　she　felt　the　near　presence　of　the
desert；　and　the　feeling　quieted　her　nerves。　She　was　thankful　at　this
moment　that　she　was　travelling　without　any　woman　friend　and　was　not
persecuted　by　any　sense　of　obligation。　In　her　fatigue；　to　rest　passive
in　the　midst　of　quiet；　and　soft　light；　calm　in　the　belief；　almost　the
certainty；　that　this　desert　village　contained　no　acquaintance　to
disturb　her；　was　to　know　all　the　joy　she　needed　for　the　moment。　She
drank　it　in　dreamily。　Liberty　had　always　been　her　fetish。　What　woman
had　more　liberty　than　she　had；　here　on　this　lonely　verandah；　with　the
shadowy　trees　below？

The　bell　of　the　church　near　by　chimed　softly；　and　the　familiar　sound
fell　strangely　upon　Domini's　ears　out　here　in　Africa；　reminding　her　of
many　sorrows。　Her　religion　was　linked　with　terrible　memories；　with
cruel　struggles；　with　hateful　scenes　of　violence。　Lord　Rens　had　been　a
man　of　passionate　temperament。　Strong　in　goodness　when　he　had　been　led
by　love；　he　had　been　equally　strong　in　evil　when　hate　had　led　him。
Domini　had　been　forced　to　contemplate　at　close　quarters　the　raw
character　of　a　warped　man；　from　whom　circumstance　had　stripped　all
tenderness；　nearly　all　reticence。　The　terror　of　truth　was　known　to
her。　She　had　shuddered　before　it；　but　she　had　been　obliged　to　watch　it
during　many　years。　In　coming　to　Beni…Mora　she　had　had　a　sort　of　vague；
and　almost　childish；　feeling　that　she　was　putting　the　broad　sea
between　herself　and　it。　Yet　before　she　had　started　it　had　been　buried
in　the　grave。　She　never　wished　to　behold　such　truth　again。　She　wanted
to　look　upon　some　other　truth　of　lifethe　truth　of　beauty；　of　calm；
of　freedom。　Lord　Rens　had　always　been　a　slave；　the　slave　of　love；　most
of　all　when　he　was　filled　with　hatred；　and　Domini；　influenced　by　his
example；　instinctively　connected　love　with　a　chain。　Only　the　love　a
human　being　has　for　God　seemed　to　her　sometimes　the　finest　freedom；
the　movement　of　the　soul　upward　into　the　infinite　obedient　to　the　call
of　the　great　Liberator。　The　love　of　man　for　woman；　of　woman　for　man；
she　thought　of　as　imprisonment；　bondage。　Was　not　her　mother　a　slave　to
the　man　who　had　wrecked　her　life　and　carried　her　spirit　beyond　the
chance　of　heaven？　Was　not　her　father　a　slave　to　her　mother？　She　shrank
definitely　from　the　contemplation　of　herself　loving；　with　all　the
strength　she　suspected　in　her　heart；　a　human　being。　In　her　religion
only　she　had　felt　in　rare　moments　something　of　love。　And　now　here；　in
this　tremendous　and　conquering　land；　she　felt　a　divine　stirring　in　her
love　for　Nature。　For　that　afternoon　Nature；　so　often　calm　and
meditative；　or　gently　indifferent；　as　one　too　complete　to　be　aware　of
those　who　lack　completeness；　had　impetuously　summoned　her　to　worship；
had　ardently　appealed　to　her　for　something　more　than　a　temperate
watchfulness　or　a　sober　admiration。　There　had　been　a　most　definite
demand　made　upon　her。　Even　in　her　fatigue　and　in　this　dreamy　twilight
she　was　conscious　of　a　latent　excitement　that　was　not　lulled　to　sleep。

And　as　she　sat　there；　while　the　darkness　grew　in　the　sky　and　spread
secretly　along　the　sandy　rills　among　the　trees；　she　wondered　how　much
she　held　within　her　to　give　in　answer　to　this　cry　to　her　of　self…
confident　Nature。　Was　it　only　a　little？　She　did　not　know。　Perhaps　she
was　too　tired　to　know。　But　however　much　it　was　it　must　seem　meagre。
What　is　even　a　woman's　heart　given　to　the　desert　or　a　woman's　soul　to
the　sea？　What　is　the　worship　of　anyone　to　the　sunset　among　the　hills；
or　to　the　wind　that　lifts　al