the garden of allah-第69节

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aloud。

It　was　late　in　the　night。　Midnight　had　sounded　yet　she　did　not　go　to
bed。　She　feared　to　sleep；　to　lose　the　consciousness　of　her　joy　of　the
glory　which　had　come　into　her　life。　She　was　a　miser　of　the　golden
hours　of　this　black　and　howling　night。　To　sleep　would　be　to　be　robbed。
A　splendid　avarice　in　her　rebelled　against　the　thought　of　sleep。

Was　Androvsky　sleeping？　She　wondered　and　longed　to　know。

To…night　she　was　fully　aware　for　the　first　time　of　the　inherent
fearlessness　of　her　character；　which　was　made　perfect　at　last　by　her
perfect　love。　Alone；　she　had　always　had　courage。　Even　in　her　most
listless　hours　she　had　never　been　a　craven。　But　now　she　felt　the
completeness　of　a　nature　clothed　in　armour　that　rendered　it
impregnable。　It　was　a　strange　thing　that　man　should　have　the　power　to
put　the　finishing　touch　to　God's　work；　that　religion　should　stoop　to
be　a　handmaid　to　faith　in　a　human　being；　but　she　did　not　think　it
strange。　Everything　in　life　seemed　to　her　to　be　in　perfect　accord
because　her　heart　was　in　perfect　accord　with　another　heart。

And　she　welcomed　the　storm。　She　even　welcomed　something　else　that　came
to　her　now　in　the　storm：　the　memory　of　the　sand…diviner's　tortured
face　as　he　gazed　down；　reading　her　fate　in　the　sand。　For　what　was　an
untroubled　fate？　Surely　a　life　that　crept　along　the　hollows　and　had　no
impulse　to　call　it　to　the　heights。　Knowing　the　flawless　perfection　of
her　armour　she　had　a　wild　longing　to　prove　it。　She　wished　that　there
should　be　assaults　upon　her　love；　because　she　knew　she　could　resist
them　one　and　all；　and　she　wished　to　have　the　keen　joy　of　resisting
them。　There　is　a　health　of　body　so　keen　and　vital　that　it　desires
combat。　The　soul　sometimes　knows　a　precisely　similar　health　and　is
filled　with　a　similar　desire。

〃Put　my　love　to　the　proof；　O　God！〃　was　Domini's　last　prayer　that　night
when　the　storm　was　at　its　wildest。　〃Put　my　love　to　the　uttermost　proof
that　he　may　know　it；　as　he　can　never　know　it　otherwise。〃

And　she　fell　asleep　at　length；　peacefully；　in　the　tumult　of　the　night；
feeling　that　God　had　heard　her　prayer。

The　dawn　came　struggling　like　an　exhausted　pilgrim　through　the　windy
dark；　pale　and　faint；　with　no　courage；　it　seemed；　to　grow　bravely　into
day。　As　if　with　the　sedulous　effort　of　something　weary　but　of
unconquered　will；　it　slowly　lit　up　Beni…Mora　with　a　feeble　light　that
flickered　in　a　cloud　of　whirling　sand；　revealing　the　desolation　of　an
almost　featureless　void。　The　village；　the　whole　oasis；　was　penetrated
by　a　passionate　fog　that　instead　of　brooding　heavily；　phlegmatically；
over　the　face　of　life　and　nature　travelled　like　a　demented　thing　bent
upon　instant　destruction；　and　coming　thus　cloudily　to　be　more　free　for
crime。　It　was　an　emissary　of　the　desert；　propelled　with　irresistible
force　from　the　farthest　recess　of　the　dunes；　and　the　desert　itself
seemed　to　be　hurrying　behind　it　as　if　to　spy　upon　the　doing　of　its
deeds。

As　the　sea　in　a　great　storm　rages　against　the　land；　ferocious　that
land　should　be；　so　the　desert　now　raged　against　the　oasis　that
ventured　to　exist　in　its　bosom。　Every　palm　tree　was　the　victim　of　its
wrath；　every　running　rill；　every　habitation　of　man。　Along　the　tunnels
of　mimosa　it　went　like　a　foaming　tide　through　a　cavern；　roaring
towards　the　mountains。　It　returned　and　swept　about　the　narrow　streets；
eddying　at　the　corners；　beating　upon　the　palmwood　doors；　behind　which
the　painted　dancing…girls　were　cowering；　cold　under　their　pigments　and
their　heavy　jewels；　their　red　hands　trembling　and　clasping　one
another；　clamouring　about　the　minarets　of　the　mosques　on　which　the
frightened　doves　were　sheltering；　shaking　the　fences　that　shut　in　the
gazelles　in　their　pleasaunce；　tearing　at　the　great　statue　of　the
Cardinal　that　faced　it　resolutely；　holding　up　the　double　cross　as　if
to　exorcise　it；　battering　upon　the　tall；　white　tower　on　whose　summit
Domini　had　first　spoken　with　Androvsky；　raging　through　the　alleys　of
Count　Anteoni's　garden；　the　arcades　of　his　villa；　the　window…spaces　of
the　/fumoir/；　from　whose　walls　it　tore　down　frantically　the　purple
petals　of　the　bougainvillea　and　dashed　them；　like　enemies　defeated；
upon　the　quivering　paths　which　were　made　of　its　own　body。

Everywhere　in　the　oasis　it　came　with　a　lust　to　kill；　but　surely　its
deepest　enmity　was　concentrated　upon　the　Catholic　Church。

There；　despite　the　tempest；　people　were　huddled；　drawn　together　not　so
much　by　the　ceremony　that　was　to　take　place　within　as　by　the　desire　to
see　the　departure　of　an　unusual　caravan。　In　every　desert　centre　news
is　propagated　with　a　rapidity　seldom　equalled　in　the　home　of
civilisation。　It　runs　from　mouth　to　mouth　like　fire　along　straw。　And
Batouch；　in　his　glory；　had　not　been　slow　to　speak　of　the　wonders
prepared　under　his　superintendence　to　make　complete　the　desert　journey
of　his　mistress　and　Androvsky。　The　main　part　of　the　camp　had　already
gone　forward；　and　must　have　reached　Arba；　the　first　halting　stage
outside　Beni…Mora；　tents；　the　horses　for　the　Roumis；　the　mules　to
carry　necessary　baggage；　the　cooking　utensils　and　the　guard　dogs。　But
the　Roumis　themselves　were　to　depart　from　the　church　on　camel…back
directly　the　marriage　was　accomplished。　Domini；　who　had　a　native
hatred　of　everything　that　savoured　of　ostentation；　had　wished　for　a
tiny　expedition；　and　would　gladly　have　gone　out　into　the　desert　with
but　one　tent；　Batouch　and　a　servant　to　do　the　cooking。　But　the　journey
was　to　be　long　and　indefinite；　an　aimless　wandering　through　the　land
of　liberty　towards　the　south；　without　fixed　purpose　or　time　of
returning。　She　knew　nothing　of　what　was　necessary　for　such　a　journey；
and　tired　of　ceaseless　argument；　and　too　much　occupied　with　joy　to
burden　herself　with　detail；　at　last　let　Batouch　have　his　way。

〃I　leave　it　to　you；　Batouch；〃　she　said。　〃But；　remember；　as　few　people
and　beasts　as　possible。　And　as　you　say　we　must　have　camels　for　certain
parts　of　the　journey；　we　will　travel　the　first　stage　on　camel…back。〃

Consciously　she　helped　to　fulfil　the　prediction　of　the　Diviner；　and
then　she　left　Batouch　free。

Now　outside　the　church；　shrouded　closely　in　hoods　and　haiks；　grey　and
brown　bundles　with　staring　eyes；　the　desert　men　were　huddled　against
the　church　wall　in　the　wind。　Hadj　was　there；　and　Smain；　sheltering　in
his　burnous　roses　from　Count　Anteoni's　garden。　Larbi　had　come　with　his
flute　and　the　perfume…seller　from　his　black　bazaar。　For　Domini　had
bought　perfumes　from　him　on　her　last　day　in　Beni…Mora。　Most　of　Count
Anteoni's　gardeners　had　assembled。　They　looked　upon　the　Roumi　lady；
who　rode　magnificently；　but　who　could　dream　as　they　dreamed；　too；　as　a
friend。　Had　she　not　haunted　the　alleys　where　they　worked　and　idled
till　they　had　learned　to　expect　her；　and　to　miss　her　when　she　did　not
come？　And　with　those　whom　Domini　knew　were　assembled　their　friends；
and　their　friends'　friends；　men　of　Beni…Mora；　men　from　the　near　oasis；
and　also　many　of　those　desert　wanderers　who　drift　in　daily　out　of　the
sands　to　the　centres　of　buying　and　selling；　barter　their　goods　for　the
goods　of　the　South；　or　sell　their　loads　of　dates　for　money；　and；
having　enjoyed　the　dissipation　of　the　cafes　and　of　the　dancing…houses；
drift　away　again　into　the　pathless　wastes　which　are　their　home。

Few　of　the　French　population　had　ventured　out；　and　the　church　itself
was　almost　deserted　when　the　hour　for　the　wedding　drew　nigh。

The　priest　came　from　his　little　house；　bending　forward　against　the
wind；　his　eyes　partially　protected　from　the　driving　sand　by　blue
spectacles。　His　face；　which　was　habitually　grave；　to…day　looked　sad
and　stern；　like　the　face　of　a　man　about　to　perform　a　task　that　was
against　his　inclination；　even　perhaps　against　his　conscience。　He
glanced　at　the　waiting　Arabs　and　hastened　into　the　church；　taking　off
his　spectacles　as　he　did　so；　and　wiping　his　eyes；　which　were　red　from
the　action　of　the　sand…grains；　with　a　silk　pocket…handkerchief。　When
he　reached　the　sacristy　he　shut　himself　into　it　alone　for　a　moment。　He
sat　down　on　a　chair　and；　leaning　his　arms　upon　the　wooden　table　that
stood　in　the　centre　of　the　room；　bent　forward　and　stared　before　him　at
the　wall　opposite；　listening　to　the　howling　of　the　wind。

Father　Roubier　had　an　almost　passionate　affection　for　his　little
church　of　Beni…Mora。　So　long　and　ardently　had　he　prayed　and　taught　in
it；　so　often　had　he　passed　the　twilight　hours　in　it　alone　wrapped　in
religious　reveries；　or　searching　his　conscience　for　the　shadows　of
sinful　thoughts；　that　it　had　become　to　him　as　a　friend；　and　more　than
a　friend。　He　thought　of　it　sometimes　as　his　confessor　and　sometimes　as
his　child。　Its　stones　were　to　him　as　flesh　and　blood；　its　altars　as
lips　that　whispered　consolation　in　answer　to　his　prayers。　The　figures
of　its　saints　were　heavenly　companions。　In　its　ugliness　he　perceived
only　beauty；　in　its　tawdriness　only　the　graces　that　are　sweet
offerings　to　God。　The　love　that；　had　he　not　been　a　priest；　he　might
have　given　to　a　woman　he　poured　forth　upon　his　church；　and　with　it
that　other　love　which；　had　it　been　the　design　of　his　Heavenly　Father；
would　have　fitted　him　for　the　ascetic；　yet　impassioned；　life　of　an
ardent　and　devoted　monk。　To　defe