the garden of allah-第68节

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this　blanching　heaven　the　desert；　and　all　things　and　people　of　the
oasis　of　Beni…Mora；　assumed　an　aspect　of　apprehension；　as　if　they　felt
themselves　to　be　in　the　thrall　of　some　power　whose　omnipotence　they
could　not　question　and　whose　purpose　they　feared。　This　whiteness　was
shot；　at　the　hour　of　sunset；　with　streaks　of　sulphur　yellow　and
dappled　with　small；　ribbed　clouds　tinged　with　yellow…green；　a　bitter
and　cruel　shade　of　green　that　distressed　the　eyes　as　a　merciless　light
distresses　them；　but　these　colours　quickly　faded；　and　again　the
whiteness　prevailed　for　a　brief　space　of　time　before　the　heavy　falling
of　a　darkness　unpierced　by　stars。　With　this　darkness　came　a　faint
moaning　of　hollow　wind　from　the　desert；　a　lamentable　murmur　that
shuddered　over　the　great　spaces；　crept　among　the　palms　and　the　flat…
roofed　houses；　and　died　away　at　the　foot　of　the　brown　mountains　beyond
the　Hammam　Salahine。　The　succeeding　silence；　short　and　intense；　was
like　a　sound　of　fear；　like　the　cry　of　a　voice　lifted　up　in　protest
against　the　approach　of　an　unknown；　but　dreaded；　fate。　Then　the　wind
came　again　with　a　stronger　moaning　and　a　lengthened　life；　not　yet
forceful；　not　yet　with　all　its　powers；　but　more　tenacious；　more
acquainted　with　itself　and　the　deeds　that　it　might　do　when　the　night
was　black　among　the　vast　sands　which　were　its　birth…place；　among　the
crouching　plains　and　the　trembling　palm　groves　that　would　be　its
battle…ground。

Batouch　looked　grave　as　he　listened　to　the　wind　and　the　creaking　of
the　palm　stems　one　against　another。　Sand　came　upon　his　face。　He　pulled
the　hood　of　his　burnous　over　his　turban　and　across　his　cheeks；　covered
his　mouth　with　a　fold　of　his　haik　and　stared　into　the　blackness；　like
an　animal　in　search　of　something　his　instinct　has　detected　approaching
from　a　distance。

Ali　was　beside　him　in　the　doorway　of　the　Cafe　Maure；　a　slim　Arab　boy；
bronze…coloured　and　serious　as　an　idol；　who　was　a　troubadour　of　the
Sahara；　singer　of　〃Janat〃　and　many　lovesongs；　player　of　the　guitar
backed　with　sand　tortoise　and　faced　with　stretched　goatskin。　Behind
them　swung　an　oil　lamp　fastened　to　a　beam　of　palm；　and　the　red　ashes
glowed　in　the　coffee　niche　and　shed　a　ray　upon　the　shelf　of　small
white　cups　with　faint　designs　of　gold。　In　a　corner；　his　black　face　and
arms　faintly　relieved　against　the　wall；　an　old　negro　crouched；　gazing
into　vacancy　with　bulging　eyes；　and　beating　with　a　curved　palm　stem
upon　an　oval　drum；　whose　murmur　was　deep　and　hollow　as　the　murmur　of
the　wind；　and　seemed　indeed　its　echo　prisoned　within　the　room　and
striving　to　escape。

〃There　is　sand　on　my　eyelids；〃　said　Batouch。　〃It　is　bad　for　to…morrow。
When　Allah　sends　the　sands　we　should　cover　the　face　and　play　the
ladies'　game　within　the　cafe；　we　should　not　travel　on　the　road　towards
the　south。〃

Ali　said　nothing；　but　drew　up　his　haik　over　his　mouth　and　nose；　and
looked　into　the　night；　folding　his　thin　hands　in　his　burnous。

〃Achmed　will　sleep　in　the　Bordj　of　Arba；〃　continued　Batouch　in　a　low；
murmuring　voice；　as　if　speaking　to　himself。　〃And　the　beasts　will　be　in
the　court。　Nothing　can　remain　outside；　for　there　will　be　a　greater
roaring　of　the　wind　at　Arba。　Can　it　be　the　will　of　Allah　that　we　rest
in　the　tents　to…morrow？〃

Ali　made　no　answer。　The　wind　had　suddenly　died　down。

The　sand　grains　came　no　more　against　their　eyelids　and　the　folds　of
their　haiks。　Behind　them　the　negro's　drum　gave　out　monotonously　its
echo　of　the　wind；　filling　the　silence　of　the　night。

〃Whatever　Allah　sends；〃　Batouch　went　on　softly　after　a　pause；　〃Madame
will　go。　She　is　brave　as　the　lion。　There　is　no　jackal　in　Madame。　Irena
is　not　more　brave　than　she　is。　But　Madame　will　never　wear　the　veil　for
a　man's　sake。　She　will　not　wear　the　veil；　but　she　could　give　a　knife…
thrust　if　he　were　to　look　at　another　woman　as　he　has　looked　at　her；　as
he　will　look　at　her　to…morrow。　She　is　proud　as　a　Touareg　and　there　is
fierceness　in　her。　But　he　will　never　look　at　another　woman　as　he　will
look　at　her　to…morrow。　The　Roumi　is　not　as　we　are。〃

The　wind　came　back　to　join　its　sound　with　the　drum；　imprisoning　the
two　Arabs　in　a　muttering　circle。

〃They　will　not　care；〃　said　Batouch。　〃They　will　go　out　into　the　storm
without　fear。〃

The　sand　pattered　more　sharply　on　his　eyelids。　He　drew　back　into　the
cafe。　Ali　followed　him；　and　they　squatted　down　side　by　side　upon　the
ground　and　looked　before　them　seriously。　The　noise　of　the　wind
increased　till　it　nearly　drowned　the　noise　of　the　negro's　drum。
Presently　the　one…eyed　owner　of　the　cafe　brought　them　two　cups　of
coffee；　setting　the　cups　near　their　stockinged　feet。　They　rolled　two
cigarettes　and　smoked　in　silence；　sipping　the　coffee　from　time　to
time。　Then　Ali　began　to　glance　towards　the　negro。　Half　shutting　his
eyes；　and　assuming　a　languid　expression　that　was　almost　sickly；　he
stretched　his　lips　in　a　smile；　gently　moving　his　head　from　side　to
side。　Batouch　watched　him。　Presently　he　opened　his　lips　and　began　to
sing：

　〃The　love　of　women　is　like　a　date　that　is　golden　in　the　sun；
　　　　That　is　golden
　　The　love　of　women　is　like　a　gazelle　that　comes　to　drink
　　　　To　drink　at　the　water　springs
　　The　love　of　women　is　like　the　nargileh；　and　like　the　dust　of　the　keef
　　　　That　is　mingled　with　tobacco　and　with　honey。
　　Put　the　reed　between　thy　lips；　O　loving　man！
　　And　draw　dreams　from　the　haschish　that　is　the　love　of　women！
　　　　　　　　Janat！　Janat！　Janat！〃

The　wind　grew　louder　and　sand　was　blown　along　the　cafe　floor　and　about
the　coffee…cups。

　〃The　love　of　women　is　like　the　rose　of　the　Caid's　garden
　　　　That　is　full　of　silver　tears
　　The　love　of　women　is　like　the　first　day　of　the　spring
　　　　When　the　children　play　at　Cora
　　The　love　of　women　is　like　the　Derbouka　that　has　been　warmed　at　the　fire
　　　　And　gives　out　a　sweet　sound。
　　Take　it　in　thy　hands；　O　loving　man！
　　And　sing　to　the　Derbouka　that　is　the　love　of　women。
　　　　　　　　Janat！　Janat！　Janat！〃

In　the　doorway；　where　the　lamp　swung　from　the　beam；　a　man　in　European
dress　stood　still　to　listen。　The　wind　wailed　behind　him　and　stirred
his　clothes。　His　eyes　shone　in　the　faint　light　with　a　fierceness　of
emotion　in　which　there　was　a　joy　that　was　almost　terrible；　but　in
which　there　seemed　also　to　be　something　that　was　troubled。　When　the
song　died　away；　and　only　the　voices　of　the　wind　and　the　drum　spoke　to
the　darkness；　he　disappeared　into　the　night。　The　Arabs　did　not　see
him。

　　　　　　　〃Janat！　Janat！　Janat！〃

The　night　drew　on　and　the　storm　increased。　All　the　doors　of　the　houses
were　closely　shut。　Upon　the　roofs　the　guard　dogs　crouched；　shivering
and　whining；　against　the　earthen　parapets。　The　camels　groaned　in　the
fondouks；　and　the　tufted　heads　of　the　palms　swayed　like　the　waves　of
the　sea。　And　the　Sahara　seemed　to　be　lifting　up　its　voice　in　a　summons
that　was　tremendous　as　a　summons　to　Judgment。

Domini　had　always　known　that　the　desert　would　summon　her。　She　heard
its　summons　now　in　the　night　without　fear。　The　roaring　of　the　tempest
was　sweet　in　her　ears　as　the　sound　of　the　Derbouka　to　the　loving　man
of　the　sands。　It　accorded　with　the　fire　that　lit　up　the　cloud　of
passion　in　her　heart。　Its　wildness　marched　in　step　with　a　marching
wildness　in　her　veins　and　pulses。　For　her　gipsy　blood　was　astir
to…night；　and　the　recklessness　of　the　boy　in　her　seemed　to　clamour
with　the　storm。　The　sound　of　the　wind　was　as　the　sound　of　the　clashing
cymbals　of　Liberty；　calling　her　to　the　adventure　that　love　would
glorify；　to　the　far…away　life　that　love　would　make　perfect；　to　the
untrodden　paths　of　the　sun　of　which　she　had　dreamed　in　the　shadows；
and　on　which　she　would　set　her　feet　at　last　with　the　comrade　of　her
soul。

To…morrow　her　life　would　begin；　her　real　life；　the　life　of　which　men
and　women　dream　as　the　prisoner　dreams　of　freedom。　And　she　was　glad；
she　thanked　God；　that　her　past　years　had　been　empty　of　joy；　that　in
her　youth　she　had　been　robbed　of　youth's　pleasures。　She　thanked　God
that　she　had　come　to　maturity　without　knowing　love。　It　seemed　to　her
that　to　love　in　early　life　was　almost　pitiful；　was　a　catastrophe；　an
experience　for　which　the　soul　was　not　ready；　and　so　could　not
appreciate　at　its　full　and　wonderful　value。　She　thought　of　it　as　of　a
child　being　taken　away　from　the　world　to　Paradise　without　having　known
the　pain　of　existence　in　the　world；　and　at　that　moment　she　worshipped
suffering。　Every　tear　that　she　had　ever　shed　she　loved；　every　weary
hour；　every　despondent　thought；　every　cruel　disappointment。　She　called
around　her　the　congregation　of　her　past　sorrows；　and　she　blessed　them
and　bade　them　depart　from　her　for　ever。

As　she　heard　the　roaring　of　the　wind　she　smiled。　The　Sahara　was
fulfilling　the　words　of　the　Diviner。　To…morrow　she　and　Androvsky　would
go　out　into　the　storm　and　the　darkness　together。　The　train　of　camels
would　be　lost　in　the　desolation　of　the　desert。　And　the　people　of　Beni…
Mora　would　see　it　vanish；　and；　perhaps；　would　pity　those　who　were
hidden　by　the　curtains　of　the　palanquin。　They　would　pity　her　as
Suzanne　pitied　her；　openly；　with　eyes　that　were　tragic。　She　laughed
aloud。

It　was　late　in　the　night。　Midnight　had　sounded　yet　she　did　not　go　to
bed。　She　feared　to　sleep；　to　lose　the　consc