the garden of allah-第103节

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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　and　again　I　felt　that　hand　laid　closely　upon　mine；
as　if　to　draw　me　away　into　something　I　had　never　known；　could　never
know。　Do　not　think　that　I　did　not　strive　against　these　first　stirrings
of　the　nature　that　had　slept　so　long！　For　days　I　refused　to　let　myself
look　out　from　the　cemetery。　I　kept　my　eyes　upon　the　ground；　upon　the
plain　crosses　that　marked　the　graves。　I　played　with　the　red…eyed
doves。　I　worked。　But　my　eyes　at　last　rebelled。　I　said　to　myself；　'It
is　not　forbidden　to　look。'　And　again　the　sails；　the　seas；　the　towers；
the　mountains；　were　as　voices　whispering　to　me；　'Why　will　you　never
know　us；　draw　near　to　us？　Why　will　you　never　understand　our　meaning？
Why　will　you　be　ignorant　for　ever　of　all　that　has　been　created　for　man
to　know？'　Then　the　pain　within　me　became　almost　unbearable。　At　night　I
could　not　sleep。　In　the　chapel　it　was　difficult　to　pray。　I　looked　at
the　monks　around　me；　to　most　of　whom　I　had　never　addressed　a　word；　and
I　thought；　'Do　they；　too；　hold　such　longings　within　them？　Are　they；
too；　shaken　with　a　desire　of　knowledge？'　It　seemed　to　me　that；　instead
of　a　place　of　peace；　the　monastery　was；　must　be；　a　place　of　tumult；　of
the　silent　tumult　that　has　its　home　in　the　souls　of　men。　But　then　I
remembered　for　how　long　I　had　been　at　peace。　Perhaps　all　the　silent
men　by　whom　I　was　surrounded　were　still　at　peace；　as　I　had　been；　as　I
might　be　again。

〃A　young　monk　died　in　the　monastery　and　was　buried　in　the　cemetery。　I
made　his　grave　against　the　outer　wall；　beneath　a　cypress　tree。　Some
days　afterwards；　when　I　was　sitting　on　the　bench　by　the　house　of　the
doves；　I　heard　a　sound；　which　came　from　beyond　the　wall。　It　was　like
sobbing。　I　listened；　and　heard　it　more　distinctly；　and　knew　that　it
was　someone　crying　and　sobbing　desperately；　and　near　at　hand。　But　now
it　seemed　to　me　to　come　from　the　wall　itself。　I　got　up　and　listened。
Someone　was　crying　bitterly　behind；　or　above；　the　wall；　just　where　the
young　monk　had　been　buried。　Who　could　it　be？　I　stood　listening；
wondering；　hesitating　what　to　do。　There　was　something　in　this　sound　of
lamentation　that　moved　one　to　the　depths。　For　years　I　had　not　looked
on　a　woman；　or　heard　a　woman's　voicebut　I　knew　that　this　was　a　woman
mourning。　Why　was　she　there？　What　could　she　want？　I　glanced　up。　All
round　the　cemetery；　as　I　have　said；　grew　cypress　trees。　As　I　glanced
up　I　saw　one　shake　just　above　where　the　new　grave　was；　and　a　woman's
voice　said；　'I　cannot　see　it；　I　cannot　see　it！'

〃I　do　not　know　why；　but　I　felt　that　someone　was　there　who　wished　to
see　the　young　monk's　grave。　For　a　moment　I　stood　there。　Then　I　went　to
the　house　where　I　kept　my　tools　for　my　work　in　the　cemetery；　and　got　a
shears　which　I　used　for　lopping　the　cypress　trees。　I　took　a　ladder
quickly；　set　it　against　the　wall；　mounted　it；　and　from　the　cypress　I
had　seen　moving　I　lopped　some　of　the　boughs。　The　sobbing　ceased。　As
the　boughs　fell　down　from　the　tree　I　saw　a　woman's　face；　tear…stained；
staring　at　me。　It　seemed　to　me　a　lovely　face。

〃'Which　is　his　grave？'　she　said。　I　pointed　to　the　grave　of　the　young
monk；　which　could　now　be　seen　through　the　gap　I　had　made；　descended
the　ladder；　and　went　away　to　the　farthest　corner　of　the　cemetery。　And
I　did　not　look　again　in　the　direction　of　the　woman's　face。

〃Who　she　was　I　do　not　know。　When　she　went　away　I　did　not　see。　She
loved　the　monk　who　had　died；　and　knowing　that　women　cannot　enter　the
precincts　of　the　monastery；　she　had　come　to　the　outside　wall　to　cast；
if　she　might；　a　despairing　glance　at　his　grave。

〃Domini；　I　wonderI　wonder　if　you　can　understand　how　that　incident
affected　me。　To　an　ordinary　man　it　would　seem　nothing；　I　suppose。　But
to　a　Trappist　monk　it　seemed　tremendous。　I　had　seen　a　woman。　I　had
done　something　for　a　woman。　I　thought　of　her；　of　what　I　had　done　for
her；　perpetually。　The　gap　in　the　cypress　tree　reminded　me　of　her　every
time　I　looked　towards　it。　When　I　was　in　the　cemetery　I　could　hardly
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