the garden of allah-第18章

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false　pepper　trees；　the　huge　olive　trees　called　Jamelons；　white
laurels；　indiarubber　and　cocoanut　trees；　bananas；　bamboos；　yuccas；
many　mimosas　and　quantities　of　tall　eucalyptus　trees。　Thickets　of
scarlet　geranium　flamed　in　the　twilight。　The　hibiscus　lifted　languidly
its　frail　and　rosy　cup；　and　the　red　gold　oranges　gleamed　amid　leaves
that　looked　as　if　they　had　been　polished　by　an　attentive　fairy。

As　she　went　with　Smain　farther　into　the　recesses　of　the　garden　the
voice　of　the　waterfall　died　away。　No　birds　were　singing。　Domini
thought　that　perhaps　they　dared　not　sing　lest　they　might　wake　the　sun
from　its　golden　reveries；　but　afterwards；　when　she　knew　the　garden
better；　she　often　heard　them　twittering　with　a　subdued；　yet　happy；
languor；　as　if　joining　in　a　nocturn　upon　the　edge　of　sleep。　Under　the
trees　the　sand　was　yellow；　of　a　shade　so　voluptuously　beautiful　that
she　longed　to　touch　it　with　her　bare　feet　like　Smain。　Here　and　there
it　rose　in　symmetrical　little　pyramids；　which　hinted　at　absent
gardeners；　perhaps　enjoying　a　siesta。

Never　before　had　she　fully　understood　the　enchantment　of　green；　quite
realised　how　happy　a　choice　was　made　on　that　day　of　Creation　when　it
was　showered　prodigally　over　the　world。　But　now；　as　she　walked
secretly　over　the　yellow　sand　between　the　rills；　following　the
floating　green　robe　of　Smain；　she　rested　her　eyes；　and　her　soul；　on
countless　mingling　shades　of　the　delicious　colour；　rough；　furry　green
of　geranium　leaves；　silver　green　of　olives；　black　green　of　distant
palms　from　which　the　sun　held　aloof；　faded　green　of　the　eucalyptus；
rich；　emerald　green　of　fan…shaped；　sunlit　palms；　hot；　sultry　green　of
bamboos；　dull；　drowsy　green　of　mulberry　trees　and　brooding　chestnuts。
It　was　a　choir　of　colours　in　one　colour；　like　a　choir　of　boys　all　with
treble　voices　singing　to　the　sun。

Gold　flickered　everywhere；　weaving　patterns　of　enchantment；　quivering；
vital　patterns　of　burning　beauty。　Down　the　narrow；　branching　paths
that　led　to　inner　mysteries　the　light　ran　in　and　out；　peeping　between
the　divided　leaves　of　plants；　gliding　over　the　slippery　edges　of　the
palm　branches；　trembling　airily　where　the　papyrus　bent　its　antique
head；　dancing　among　the　big　blades　of　sturdy　grass　that　sprouted　in
tufts　here　and　there；　resting　languidly　upon　the　glistening　magnolias
that　were　besieged　by　somnolent　bees。　All　the　greens　and　all　the　golds
of　Creation　were　surely　met　together　in　this　profound　retreat　to　prove
the　perfect　harmony　of　earth　with　sun。

And　now；　growing　accustomed　to　the　pervading　silence；　Domini　began　to
hear　the　tiny　sounds　that　broke　it。　They　came　from　the　trees　and
plants。　The　airs　were　always　astir；　helping　the　soft　designs　of
Nature；　loosening　a　leaf　from　its　stem　and　bearing　it　to　the　sand；
striking　a　berry　from　its　place　and　causing　it　to　drop　at　Domini's
feet；　giving　a　faded　geranium　petal　the　courage　to　leave　its　more
vivid　companions　and　resign　itself　to　the　loss　of　the　place　it　could
no　longer　fill　with　beauty。　Very　delicate　was　the　touch　of　the　dying
upon　the　yellow　sand。　It　increased　the　sense　of　pervading　mystery　and
made　Domini　more　deeply　conscious　of　the　pulsing　life　of　the　garden。

〃There　is　the　room　of　the　little　dog；〃　said　Smain。

They　had　come　out　into　a　small　open　space；　over　which　an　immense
cocoanut　tree　presided。　Low　box　hedges　ran　round　two　squares　of　grass
which　were　shadowed　by　date　palms　heavy　with　yellow　fruit；　and　beneath
some　leaning　mulberry　trees　Domini　saw　a　tiny　white　room　with　two
glass　windows　down　to　the　ground。　She　went　up　to　it　and　peeped　in；
smiling。

There；　in　a　formal　salon；　with　gilt　chairs；　oval；　polished　tables；
faded　rugs　and　shining　mirrors；　sat　a　purple　china　dog　with　his　tail
curled　over　his　back　sternly　staring　into　vacancy。　His　expression　and
his　attitude　were　autocratic　and　determined；　betokening　a　tyrannical
nature；　and　Domini　peeped　at　him　with　precaution；　holding　herself　very
still　lest　he　should　become　aware　of　her　presence　and　resent　it。

〃Monsieur　the　Count　paid　much　money　for　the　dog；〃　murmured　Smain。　〃He
is　very　valuable。〃

〃How　long　has　he　been　there？〃

〃For　many　years。　He　was　there　when　I　was　born；　and　I　have　been　married
twice　and　divorced　twice。〃

Domini　turned　from　the　window　and　looked　at　Smain　with　astonishment。
He　was　smelling　his　rose　like　a　dreamy　child。

〃You　have　been　divorced　twice？〃

〃Yes。　Now　I　will　show　Madame　the　smoking…room。〃

They　followed　another　of　the　innumerable　alleys　of　the　garden。　This
one　was　very　narrow　and　less　densely　roofed　with　trees　than　those　they
had　already　traversed。　Tall　shrubs　bent　forward　on　either　side　of　it；
and　their　small　leaves　almost　meeting；　were　transformed　by　the　radiant
sunbeams　into　tongues　of　pale　fire；　quivering；　well　nigh　transparent。
As　she　approached　them　Domini　could　not　resist　the　fancy　that　they
would　burn　her。　A　brown　butterfly　flitted　forward　between　them　and
vanished　into　the　golden　dream　beyond。

〃Oh；　Smain；　how　you　must　love　this　garden！〃　she　said。

A　sort　of　ecstasy　was　waking　within　her。　The　pure　air；　the　caressing
warmth；　the　enchanted　stillness　and　privacy　of　this　domain　touched　her
soul　and　body　like　the　hands　of　a　saint　with　power　to　bless　her。

〃I　could　live　here　for　ever；〃　she　added；　〃without　once　wishing　to　go
out　into　the　world。〃

Smain　looked　drowsily　pleased。

〃We　are　coming　to　the　centre　of　the　garden；〃　he　said；　as　they　passed
over　a　palm…wood　bridge　beneath　which　a　stream　glided　under　the　red
petals　of　geraniums。

The　tongues　of　flame　were　left　behind。　Green　darkness　closed　in　upon
them　and　the　sand　beneath　their　feet　looked　blanched。　The　sense　of
mystery　increased；　for　the　trees　were　enormous　and　grew　densely　here。
Pine　needles　lay　upon　the　ground；　and　there　was　a　stirring　of　sudden
wind　far　up　above　their　heads　in　the　tree…tops。

〃This　is　the　part　of　the　garden　that　Monsieur　the　Count　loves；〃　said
Smain。　〃He　comes　here　every　day。〃

〃What　is　that？〃　said　Domini；　suddenly　stopping　on　the　pale　sand。

A　thin　and　remote　sound　stole　to　them　down　the　alley；　clear　and　frail
as　the　note　of　a　night　bird。

〃It　is　Larbi　playing　upon　the　flute。　He　is　in　love。　That　is　why　he
plays　when　he　ought　to　be　watering　the　flowers　and　raking　out　the
sand。〃

The　distant　love…song　of　the　flute　seemed　to　Domini　the　last　touch　of
enchantment　making　this　indeed　a　wonderland。　She　could　not　move；　and
held　up　her　hands　to　stay　the　feet　of　Smain；　who　was　quite　content　to
wait。　Never　before　had　she　heard　any　music　that　seemed　to　mean　and
suggest　so　much　to　her　as　this　African　tune　played　by　an　enamoured
gardener。　Queer　and　uncouth　as　it　was；　distorted　with　ornaments　and
tricked　out　with　abrupt　runs；　exquisitely　unnecessary　grace　notes；　and
sudden　twitterings　prolonged　till　a　strange　and　frivolous　Eternity
tripped　in　to　banish　Time；　it　grasped　Domini's　fancy　and　laid　a　spell
upon　her　imagination。　For　it　sounded　as　naively　sincere　as　the　song　of
a　bird；　and　as　if　the　heart　from　which　it　flowed　were　like　the　heart
of　a　child；　a　place　of　revelation；　not　of　concealment。　The　sun　made
men　careless　here。　They　opened　their　windows　to　it；　and　one　could　see
into　the　warm　and　glowing　rooms。　Domini　looked　at　the　gentle　Arab
youth　beside　her；　already　twice　married　and　twice　divorced。　She
listened　to　Larbi's　unending　song　of　love。　And　she　said　to　herself；
〃These　people；　uncivilised　or　not；　at　least　live；　and　I　have　been　dead
all　my　life；　dead　in　life。〃　That　was　horribly　possible。　She　knew　it　as
she　felt　the　enormously　powerful　spell　of　Africa　descending　upon　her；
enveloping　her　quietly　but　irresistibly。　The　dream　of　this　garden　was
quick　with　a　vague　and　yet　fierce　stirring　of　realities。　There　was　a
murmuring　of　many　small　and　distant　voices；　like　the　voices　of
innumerable　tiny　things　following　restless　activities　in　a　deep
forest。　As　she　stood　there　the　last　grain　of　European　dust　was　lifted
from　Domini's　soul。　How　deeply　it　had　been　buried；　and　for　how　many
years。

〃The　greatest　act　of　man　is　the　act　of　renunciation。〃　She　had　just
heard　those　words。　The　eyes　of　the　priest　had　flamed　as　he　spoke　them；
and　she　had　caught　the　spark　of　his　enthusiasm。　But　now　another　fire
seeme