the garden of allah-第27章
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been her momentary interest in a scene suggestive of a license which
was surely unattractive to her。 Yet was it unattractive? She scarcely
knew。 But she knew that it had kindled in her a sudden and very strong
curiosity; even a vague; momentary desire that she had been born in
some tent of the Ouled Nailsno; that was impossible。 She had not
felt such a desire even for an instant。 She looked towards the
thickets of the palms; towards the mountains full of changing;
exquisite colours; towards the desert。 And at once the dream began to
return; and she felt as if hands slipped under her heart and uplifted
it。
What depths and heights were within her; what deep; dark valleys; and
what mountain peaks! And how she travelled within herself; with
swiftness of light; with speed of the wind。 What terrors of activity
she knew。 Did every human being know similar terrors?
The colours everywhere deepened as day failed。 The desert spirits were
at work。 She thought of Count Anteoni again; and resolved to go round
to the other side of the tower。 As she moved to do this she heard once
more the shifting of a foot on the plaster floor; then a step。
Evidently she had infected him with an intention similar to her own。
She went on; still hearing the step; turned the corner and stood face
to face in the strong evening light with the traveller。 Their bodies
almost touched in the narrow space before they both stopped; startled。
For a moment they stood still looking at each other; as people might
look who have spoken together; who know something of each other's
lives; who may like or dislike; wish to avoid or to draw near to each
other; but who cannot pretend that they are complete strangers; wholly
indifferent to each other。 They met in the sky; almost as one bird may
meet another on the wing。 And; to Domini; at any rate; it seemed as if
the depth; height; space; colour; mystery and calmyes; even the calm
which were above; around and beneath them; had been placed there by
hidden hands as a setting for their encounter; even as the abrupt
pageant of the previous day; into which the train had emerged from the
blackness of the tunnel; had surely been created as a frame for the
face which had looked upon her as if out of the heart of the sun。 The
assumption was absurd; unreasonable; yet vital。 She did not combat it
because she felt it too powerful for common sense to strive against。
And it seemed to her that the stranger felt it too; that she saw her
sensation reflected in his eyes as he stood between the parapet and
the staircase wall; barringin despite of himselfher path。 The
moment seemed long while they stood motionless。 Then the man took off
his soft hat awkwardly; yet with real politeness; and stood quickly
sideways against the parapet to let her pass。 She could have passed if
she had brushed against him; and made a movement to do so。 Then she
checked herself and looked at him again as if she expected him to
speak to her。 His hat was still in his hand; and the light desert wind
faintly stirred his short brown hair。 He did not speak; but stood
there crushing himself against the plaster work with a sort of fierce
timidity; as if he dreaded the touch of her skirt against him; and
longed to make himself small; to shrivel up and let her go by in
freedom。
〃Thank you;〃 she said in French。
She passed him; but was unable to do so without touching him。 Her left
arm was hanging down; and her bare hand knocked against the back of
the hand in which he held his hat。 She felt as if at that moment she
touched a furnace; and she saw him shiver slightly; as over…fatigued
men sometimes shiver in daylight。 An extraordinary; almost motherly;
sensation of pity for him came over her。 She did not know why。 The
intense heat of his hand; the shiver that ran over his body; his
attitude as he shrank with a kind of timid; yet ferocious; politeness
against the white wall; the expression in his eyes when their hands
toucheda look she could not analyse; but which seemed to hold a
mingling of wistfulness and repellance; as of a being stretching out
arms for succour; and crying at the same time; 〃Don't draw near to me!
Leave me to myself!〃everything about him moved her。 She felt that
she was face to face with a solitariness of soul such as she had never
encountered before; a solitariness that was cruel; that was weighed
down with agony。 And directly she had passed the man and thanked him
formally she stopped with her usual decision of manner。 She had
abruptly made up her mind to talk to him。 He was already moving to
turn away。 She spoke quickly; and in French。
〃Isn't it wonderful here?〃 she said; and she made her voice rather
loud; and almost sharp; to arrest his attention。
He turned round swiftly; yet somehow reluctantly; looked at her
anxiously; and seemed doubtful whether he would reply。
After a silence that was short; but that seemed; and in such
circumstances was; long; he answered; in French:
〃Very wonderful; Madame。〃
The sound of his own voice seemed to startle him。 He stood as if he
had heard an unusual noise which had alarmed him; and looked at Domini
as if he expected that she would share in his sensation。 Very quietly
and deliberately she leaned her arms again on the parapet and spoke to
him once more。
〃We seem to be the only travellers here。〃
The man's attitude became slightly calmer。 He looked less momentary;
less as if he were in haste to go; but still shy; fierce and
extraordinarily unconventional。
〃Yes; Madame; there are not many here。〃
After a pause; and with an uncertain accent; he added:
〃Pardon; Madamefor yesterday。〃
There was a sudden simplicity; almost like that of a child; in the
sound of his voice as he said that。 Domini knew at once that he
alluded to the incident at the station of El…Akbara; that he was
trying to make amends。 The way he did it touched her curiously。 She
felt inclined to stretch out her hand to him and say; 〃Of course!
Shake hands on it!〃 almost as an honest schoolboy might。 But she only
answered:
〃I know it was only an accident。 Don't think of it any more。〃
She did not look at him。
〃Where money is concerned the Arabs are very persistent;〃 she
continued。
The man laid one of his brown hands on the top of the parapet。 She
looked at it; and it seemed to her that she had never before seen the
back of a hand express so much of character; look so intense; so
ardent; and so melancholy as his。
〃Yes; Madame。〃
He still spoke with an odd timidity; with an air of listening to his
own speech as if in some strange way it were phenomenal to him。 It
occurred to her that possibly he had lived much in lonely places; in
which his solitude had rarely been broken; and he had been forced to
acquire the habit of silence。
〃But they are very picturesque。 They look almost like some religious
order when they wear their hoods。 Don't you think so?〃
She saw the brown hand lifted from the parapet; and heard her
companion's feet shift on the floor of the tower。 But this time he
said nothing。 As she could not see his hand now she looked out again
over the panorama of the evening; which was deepening in intensity
with every passing moment; and immediately she was conscious of two
feelings that filled her with wonder: a much stronger and sweeter
sense of the African magic than she had felt till now; and the
certainty that the greater force and sweetness of her feeling were
caused by the fact that she had a companion in her contemplation。 This
was strange。 An intense desire for loneliness had driven her out of
Europe to this desert place; and a companion; who was an utter
stranger; emphasised the significance; gave fibre to the beauty;
intensity to the mystery of that which she looked on。 It was as if the
meaning of the African evening were suddenly doubled。 She thought of a
dice…thrower who throws one die and turns up six; then throws two and
turns up twelve。 And she remained silent in her surprise。 The man
stood silently beside her。 Afterwards she felt as if; during this
silence in the tower; some powerful and unseen being had arrived
mysteriously; introduced them to one another and mysteriously
departed。
The