the garden of allah-第126章
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the two tents； a white light seemed to fall upon Domini's character；
and in this white light stood the ruin and the house that was founded
upon a rock。 He was torn by conflicting sensations of despair and
triumph。 She was what he had believed。 That made the triumph。 But
since she was that where was his future with her？ The monk and the man
who had fled from the monastery stood up within him to do battle。 The
monk knew triumph； but the man was in torment。
Presently； as Androvsky looked at the two tents； the monk in him
seemed to die a new death； the man who had left the monastery to know
a new resurrection。 He was seized by a furious desire to go backward
in time； to go backward but a few hours； to the moment when Domini did
not know what now she knew。 He cursed himself for what he had done。 At
last he had been able to pray。 Yes； but what was prayer now； what was
prayer to the man who looked at the two tents and understood what they
meant？ He moved away and began to walk up and down near to the two
tents。 He did not know where Domini was。 At a little distance he saw
the servants busy preparing the evening meal。 Smoke rose up before the
cook's tent； curling away stealthily among a group of palm trees；
beneath which some Arab boys were huddled； staring with wide eyes at
the unusual sight of travellers。 They came from a tiny village at a
short distance off； half hidden among palm gardens。 The camels were
feeding。 A mule was rolling voluptuously in the sand。 At a well a
shepherd was watering his flocks； which crowded about him baaing
expectantly。 The air seemed to breathe out a subtle aroma of peace and
of liberty。 And this apparent presence of peace； this vision of the
calm of others； human beings and animals； added to the torture of
Androvsky。 As he walked to and fro he felt as if he were being
devoured by his passions； as if he were losing the last vestiges of
self…control。 Never in the monastery； never even in the night when he
left it； had he been tormented like this。 For now he had a terrible
companion whom； at that time； he had not known。 Memory walked with him
before the tents； the memory of his body； recalling and calling for
the past。
He had destroyed that past himself。 But for him it might have been
also the present； the future。 It might have lasted for years； perhaps
till death took him or Domini。 Why not？ He had only had to keep
silence； to insist on remaining in the desert； far from the busy ways
of men。 They could have lived as certain others lived； who loved the
free； the solitary life； in an oasis of their own； tending their
gardens of palms。 Life would have gone like a sunlit dream。 And death？
At that thought he shuddered。 Deathwhat would that have been to him？
What would it be now when it came？ He put the thought from him with
force； as a man thrusts away from him the filthy hand of a clamouring
stranger assailing him in the street。
This evening he had no time to think of death。 Life was enough； life
with this terror which he had deliberately placed in it。
He thought of himself as a madman for having spoken to Domini。 He
cursed himself as a madman。 For he knew； although he strove furiously
not to know； how irrevocable was his act； in consequence of the great
strength of her nature。 He knew that though she had been to him a
woman of fire she might be to him a woman of ironeven to him whom
she loved。
How she had loved him！
He walked faster before the tents； to and fro。
How she had loved him！ How she loved him still； at this moment after
she knew what he was； what he had done to her。 He had no doubt of her
love as he walked there。 He felt it； like a tender hand upon him。 But
that hand was inflexible too。 In its softness there was firmness
firmness that would never yield to any strength in him。
Those two tents told him the story of her strength。 As he looked at
them he was looking into her soul。 And her soul was in direct conflict
with his。 That was what he felt。 She had thought； she had made up her
mind。 Quietly； silently she had acted。 By that action； without a word；
she had spoken to him； told him a tremendous thing。 And the manthe
passionate man who had left the monasteryloose in him now was aflame
with an impotent desire that was like a heat of fury against her；
while the monk； hidden far down in him； was secretly worshipping her
cleanliness of spirit。
But the man who had left the monastery was in the ascendant in him；
and at last drove him to a determination that the monk secretly knew
to be utterly vain。 He made up his mind to enter into conflict with
Domini's strength。 He felt that he must； that he could not quietly；
without a word； accept this sudden new life of separation symbolised
for him by the two tents standing apart。
He stood still。 In the distance； under the palms； he saw Batouch
laughing with Ouardi。 Near them Ali was reposing on a mat； moving his
head from side to side； smiling with half…shut； vacant eyes； and
singing a languid song。
This music maddened him。
〃Batouch！〃 he called out sharply。 〃Batouch！〃
Batouch stopped laughing； glanced round； then came towards him with a
large pace； swinging from his hips。
〃Monsieur？〃
〃Batouch！〃 Androvsky said。
But he could not go on。 He could not say anything about the two tents
to a servant。
〃Wherewhere is Madame？〃 he said almost stammering。
〃Out there； Monsieur。〃
With a sweeping arm the poet pointed towards a hump of sand crowned by
a few palms。 Domini was sitting there； surrounded by Arab children； to
whom she was giving sweets out of a box。 As Androvsky saw her the
anger in him burnt up more fiercely。 This action of Domini's； simple；
natural though it was； seemed to him in his present condition cruelly
heartless。 He thought of her giving the order about the tents and then
going calmly to play with these children； while hewhile he
〃You can go； Batouch；〃 he said。 〃Go away。〃
The poet stared at him with a superb surprise； then moved slowly
towards Ouardi； holding his burnous with his large hands。
Androvsky looked again at the two tents as a man looks at two enemies。
Then； walking quickly； he went towards the hump of sand。 As he
approached it Domini had her side face turned towards him。 She did not
see him。 The little Arabs were dancing round her on their naked feet；
laughing； showing their white teeth and opening their mouths wide for
the sugar…plumsgaiety incarnate。 Androvsky gazed at the woman who
was causing this childish joy； and he saw a profound sadness。 Never
had he seen Domini's face look like this。 It was always white； but now
its whiteness was like a whiteness of marble。 She moved her head；
turning to feed one of the little gaping mouths； and he saw her eyes；
tearless； but sadder than if they had been full of tears。 She was
looking at these children as a mother looks at her children who are
fatherless。 He did nothow could he？understand the look； but it
went to his heart。 He stopped； watching。 One of the children saw him；
shrieked； pointed。 Domini glanced round。 As she saw him she smiled；
threw the last sugar…plums and came towards him。
〃Do you want me？〃 she said； coming up to him。
His lips trembled。
〃Yes；〃 he said； 〃I want you。〃
Something in his voice seemed to startle her； but she said nothing
more； only stood looking at him。 The children； who had followed her；
crowded round them； touching their clothes curiously。
〃Send them away；〃 he said。
She made the children go； pushing them gently； pointing to the
village； and showing the empty box to them。 Reluctantly at last they
went towards the village； turning their heads to stare at her till
they were a long way off； then holding up their skirts and racing for
the houses。
〃DominiDomini；〃 he said。 〃You canyou can play with children
to…day。〃
〃I wanted to feel I could give a little happiness to…day；〃 she
answered〃even to…day。〃
〃To…day whenwhen to meto meyou are giving〃
But before her steady gaze all the words he had meant to say； all the
words of furious protest； died on his lips。
〃To meto me〃 he repeated。
Then he was silent。
〃Boris；〃 she said； 〃I want to give you one thing； the thing that you
have lost。 I want to giv
