the garden of allah-第125章

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had　asked　herself〃Whither？〃　She　had　asked　herself　where　was　the
halting…place；　with　at　last　the　pitched　tent；　the　camp　fires；　and　the
long；　the　long　repose？　And　when　she　came　down　into　the　court　of　the
mosque　and　found　Androvsky　watching　the　old　Arab　who　struck　against
the　mosque　and　cursed；　she　had　wished　that　Androvsky　had　mounted　with
her　a　little　way　towards　God。

He　should　mount　with　her。　Always　she　had　longed　to　see　him　above　her。
Could　she　leave　him　below？　She　knew　she　could　not。　She　understood　that
God　did　not　mean　her　to。　She　understood　perfectly。　And　tears　streamed
from　her　eyes。　For　now　there　came　upon　her　a　full　comprehension　of　her
love　for　Androvsky。　His　revelation　had　not　killed　it；　as；　for　a
moment；　in　her　passionate　personal　anger；　she　had　been　inclined　to
think。　Indeed　it　seemed　to　her　now　that；　till　this　hour　of　silence；
she　had　never　really　loved　him；　never　known　how　to　love。　Even　in　the
tent　at　Arba　she　had　not　fully　loved　him；　perfectly　loved　him。　For　the
thought　of　self；　the　desires　of　self；　the　passion　of　self；　had　entered
into　and　been　mingled　with　her　love。　But　now　she　loved　him　perfectly；
because　she　loved　as　God　intended　her　to　love。　She　loved　him　as　God's
envoy　sent　to　him。

She　was　still　weeping；　but　she　began　to　feel　calm；　as　if　the　stillness
of　this　hour　before　the　dawn　entered　into　her　soul。　She　thought　of
herself　now　only　as　a　vessel　into　which　God　was　pouring　His　purpose
and　His　love。

Just　as　dawn　was　breaking；　as　the　first　streak　of　light　stole　into　the
east　and　threw　a　frail　spear　of　gold　upon　the　sands；　she　was　conscious
again　of　a　thrill　of　life　within　her；　of　the　movement　of　her　unborn
child。　Then　she　lifted　her　head　from　her　hand；　looking　towards　the
east；　and　whispered：

〃Give　me　strength　for　one　more　thinggive　me　strength　to　be　silent！〃

She　waited　as　if　for　an　answer。　Then　she　rose　from　her　knees；　bathed
her　face　and　went　out　to　the　tent　door　to　Androvsky。

〃Boris！〃　she　said。

He　rose　from　his　knees　and　looked　at　her；　holding　the　little　wooden
crucifix　in　his　hand。

〃Domini？〃　he　said　in　an　uncertain　voice。

〃Put　it　back　into　your　breast。　Keep　it　for　ever；　Boris。〃

As　if　mechanically；　and　not　removing　his　eyes　from　her；　he　put　the
crucifix　into　his　breast。　After　a　moment　she　spoke　again；　quietly。

〃Boris；　you　never　wished　to　stay　here。　You　meant　to　stay　here　for　me。
Let　us　go　away　from　Amara。　Let　us　go　to…day；　now；　in　the　dawn。〃

〃Us！〃　he　said。

There　was　a　profound　amazement　in　his　voice。

〃Yes；〃　she　answered。

〃Away　from　Amarayou　and　Itogether？〃

〃Yes；　Boris；　together。〃

〃Wherewhere　can　we　go？〃

The　amazement　seemed　to　deepen　in　his　voice。　His　eyes　were　watching
her　with　an　almost　fierce　intentness。　In　a　flash　of　insight　she
realised　that；　just　then；　he　was　wondering　about　her　as　he　had　never
wondered　before；　wondering　whether　she　was　really　the　good　woman　at
whose　feet　his　sin…stricken　soul　had　worshipped。　Yes；　he　was　asking
himself　that　question。

〃Boris；〃　she　said；　〃will　you　leave　yourself　in　my　hands？　We　have
talked　of　our　future　life。　We　have　wondered　what　we　should　do。　Will
you　let　me　do　as　I　will；　let　the　future　be　as　I　choose？〃

In　her　heart　she　said　〃as　God　chooses。〃

〃Yes；　Domini；〃　he　answered。　〃I　am　in　your　hands；　utterly　in　your
hands。〃

〃No；〃　she　said。

Neither　of　them　spoke　after　that　till　the　sunlight　lay　above　the
towers　and　minarets　of　Amara。　Then　Domini　said：

〃We　will　go　to…daynow。〃

And　that　morning　the　camp　was　struck；　and　the　new　journey　beganthe
journey　back。



CHAPTER　XXVIII

A　silence　had　fallen　between　Domini　and　Androvsky　which　neither　seemed
able　to　break。　They　rode　on　side　by　side　across　the　sands　towards　the
north　through　the　long　day。　The　tower　of　Amara　faded　in　the　sunshine
above　the　white　crests　of　the　dunes。　The　Arab　villages　upon　their
little　hills　disappeared　in　the　quivering　gold。　New　vistas　of　desert
opened　before　them；　oases　crowded　with　palms；　salt　lakes　and　stony
ground。　They　passed　by　native　towns。　They　saw　the　negro　gardeners
laughing　among　the　rills　of　yellow　water；　or　climbing　with　bare　feet
the　wrinkled　tree　trunks　to　lop　away　dead　branches。　They　heard　tiny
goatherds　piping；　solitary；　in　the　wastes。　Dreams　of　the　mirage　rose
and　faded　far　off　on　the　horizon；　rose　and　faded　mystically；　leaving
no　trembling　trace　behind。　And　they　were　silent　as　the　mirage；　she　in
her　purpose；　he　in　his　wonder。　And　the　long　day　waned；　and　towards
evening　the　camp　was　pitched　and　the　evening　meal　was　prepared。　And
still　they　could　not　speak。

Sometimes　Androvsky　watched　her；　and　there　was　a　great　calm　in　her
face；　but　there　was　no　rebuke；　no　smallness　of　anger；　no　hint　of
despair。　Always　he　had　felt　her　strength　of　mind　and　body；　but　never
so　much　as　now。　Could　he　rest　on　it？　Dared　he？　He　did　not　know。　And
the　day　seemed　to　him　to　become　a　dream；　and　the　silence　recalled　to
him　the　silence　of　the　monastery　in　which　he　had　worshipped　God　before
the　stranger　came。　He　thought　that　in　this　silence　he　ought　to　feel
that　she　was　deliberately　raising　barriers　between　them；　butit　was
strangehe　could　not　feel　this。　In　her　silence　there　was　no
bitterness。　When　is　there　bitterness　in　strength？　He　rode　on　and　on
beside　her；　and　his　sense　of　a　dream　deepened；　helped　by　the　influence
of　the　desert。　Where　were　they　going？　He　did　not　know。　What　was　her
purpose？　He　could　not　tell。　But　he　felt　that　she　had　a　purpose；　that
her　mind　was　resolved。　Now　and　then；　tearing　himself　with　an　effort
from　the　dream；　he　asked　himself　what　it　could　be。　What　could　be　in
store　for　him；　for　them；　after　the　thing　he　had　told？　What　could　be
their　mutual　life？　Must　it　not　be　for　ever　at　an　end？　Was　it　not
shattered？　Was　it　not　dust；　like　the　dust　of　the　desert　that　rose
round　their　horses'　feet？　The　silence　did　not　tell　him；　and　again　he
ceased　from　wondering　and　the　dream　closed　round　him。　Were　they　not
travelling　in　a　mirage；　mirage　people；　unreal；　phantomlike；　who　would
presently　fade　away　into　the　spaces　of　the　sun？　The　sand　muffled　the
tread　of　the　horses'　feet。　The　desert　understood　their　silence；
clothed　it　in　a　silence　more　vast　and　more　impenetrable。　And　Androvsky
had　made　his　effort。　He　had　spoken　the　truth　at　last。　He　could　do　no
more。　He　was　incapable　of　any　further　action。　As　Domini　felt　herself
to　be　in　the　hands　of　God；　he　felt　himself　to　be　in　the　hands　of　this
woman　who　had　received　his　confession　with　this　wonderful　calm；　who
was　leading　him　he　knew　not　whither　in　this　wonderful　silence。

When　the　camp　was　pitched；　however；　he　noticed　something　that　caught
him　sharply　away　from　the　dreamlike；　unreal　feeling；　and　set　him　face
to　face　with　fact　that　was　cold　as　steel。　Always　till　now　the
dressing…tent　had　been　pitched　beside　their　sleeping…tent；　with　the
flap　of　the　entrance　removed　so　that　the　two　tents　communicated。
To…night　it　stood　apart；　near　the　sleeping…tent；　and　in　it　was　placed
one　of　the　small　camp　beds。　Androvsky　was　alone　when　he　saw　this。　On
reaching　the　halting…place　he　had　walked　a　little　way　into　the　desert。
When　he　returned　he　found　this　change。　It　told　him　something　of　what
was　passing　in　Domini's　mind；　and　it　marked　the　transformation　of
their　mutual　life。　As　he　gazed　at　the　two　tents　he　felt　stricken；　yet
he　felt　a　curious　sense　of　something　that　was　likewas　it　not　like
relief？　It　was　as　if　his　body　had　received　a　frightful　blow　and　on　his
soul　a　saint's　hand　had　been　gently　laid；　as　if　something　fell　about
him　in　ruins；　and　at　the　same　time　a　building　which　he　loved；　and
which　for　a　moment　he　had　thought　tottering；　stood　firm　before　him
founded　upon　rock。　He　was　a　man　capable　of　a　passionate　belief；
despite　his　sin；　and　he　had　always　had　a　passionate　belief　in　Domini's
religion。　That　morning；　when　she　came　out　to　him　in　the　sand；　a
momentary　doubt　had　assailed　him。　He　had　known　the　thought；　〃Does　she
love　me　stilldoes　she　love　me　more　than　she　loves　God；　more　than　she
loves　his　dictates　manifested　in　the　Catholic　religion？〃　When　she　said
that　word　〃together〃　that　had　been　his　thought。　Now；　as　he　looked　at
the　two　tents；　a　white　light　seemed　to　fall　upon　Domini's　character；
and　in　this　white　light　stood　t