The Garden of Allah

oon in t

of the sky there seemed a magical depth, regions of colour infinitely prolonged. In the vision of the distances, where desert blent with sky, earth surely curving up to meet the downward curving heaven, the dimness was like a voice whispering strange petitions. The ranges of mountains slept in the burning sand, and the light slept in their clefts like the languid in cool places. For there was a glorious languor even in the light, as if the

ount Anteoni Larbi

in a mirage," D

nteoni

grey sea and the islands on the way to Sidi-Zerzour. What magic there is here. And I can't get acc

ld be fr

tside things-it l

what

lled the violent deeds in life, are tame, and timid, and ridiculously impotent i

to see the exterior life as a mirage

d of something that was a

ret agent?" Do

om, Ma

e considering. He watched her w

e answered at lengt

always a definite ob

w can I tell what t

you perso

itself in his brown face as h

the first," she answere

ersonage does the d

great many que

stion-or is it the demand?-of the desert in this noontide hour,

g to it, feeling it, as they had been silent when t

motionless figure, her quiet hands, covered with white gloves, lying loosely in her lap, looked attentive and yet languid, as if some spell began to bind her but had not completed its work of stilling all the pulses of life that throbbed within her. And in truth there was a spell upon her, the spell of the golden noon. By turns she

i drew back from the sun and sat down in a

," he said, "and my

aid with an acc

priest to make

O

't disli

im. I res

aid you aren

him straight

vite Father Rou

r better t

t want to

I not acknowledge it? I asked Father Roubier because I wished

rayer," she

r," he

etly he was standing up for the Arab faith, that her last words had seemed to strike against the religion of the peop

hat their former slight acquaintance had moved

ot gone. It was only different. There was less sheer amazement, more affection in it. As she had said, she had not become accustomed to the magic of Africa. Its strangen

e ride to Sidi-Zerzour-days

melted away. Who could be frost-bound in this land of fire? She had longed for peace and she was surely finding it, but it was a peace without stagnation. Hope dwelt in it, and expectancy, vague but persistent. As to forgetfulness, sometimes she woke from the dream and was almost dazed, almost ashamed to think how much she was forgetting, and how quickly. Her European life and friends-some of them intimate and close-were like a far-off cloud on the horizon, flying still farther before a steady wind that set from her to it. Soon it would disappear, would be

ndy alleys between the little rills, hearing the distant song of Larbi's amorous flute, or sat in the dense shade of the trees watching through a window-space of quivering golden leaves the passing of the caravans along the desert tracks. Sometimes a little wreath of ascending smoke, curling above the purple petals of boug

at the normal civilised life restrained too much. He loved thought as many love conversation, silence as some love music. Now and then he said a sad or bitter thing. Sometimes she seemed to be near to something stern. Sometimes she felt as if there were a secret link which connected him with the perfume-seller in his little darkened chambe

his obvious pleasure in her society agreeable. She thought that her genuine adoration of the garden he had made, of the land in which it was set, had not a little to do with the happy nature of their intercourse. For she felt certain that beneath the light satire of his manner, his often smiling airs of detachment and quiet independence, ther

yet they had become friends in

she said

ert. Why do you n

relied. "When you are in th

had felt during her fi

afraid of it," she

ng of wisdom," he answered. "B

o you

you galloping a

of warning-or was it of rebuke-in

deal by not galloping in

I don'

had been roused at dawn on the day following by his tread on the verandah. She had lain still while it descended the staircase, but then the sharp neighing of a horse had awakened an irresistible curiosity in her. She had got up, wrapped herself in a fur coat and slipped out on to the verandah. The sun was

him the previous day: to avoid touching the animal with his foot, to have the rein in his fingers before leaving the ground, and to come down in the saddle as lightly as possible. She noted that all her hints were taken with infinite precaution. Once on the horse he tried to sit up straight, but found the effort too great in his weary and bruised condition. He leaned forward over the saddle peak, and rode away in the lumi

learn his lesso

is horse, and she saw that he was more than determined-that he was apt at acquiring control of a physical exercise new to him. His great strength stood him in good stead. Only a man hard in the body could ha

ination for her than the route to Sidi-Zerzour. There was far more sand in this region of the desert. The little humps crowned with the scrub the camels feed on were fewer, so that the flatness of the ground was more definite. Here and there large dunes of golden-coloure

r my long journey I shall go by t

rney?" he said, looking

me

alo

e Arabs, some horses, a tent or two. It's eas

ed startled, and hal

t hotel of Beni-Mora, many kilometres away among the palms; so still that they could hear the bark of a Kabyle off near a nomad's tent pitched in the green land by the water-springs of old Beni-Mora. When they looked in front of them they seemed to see thousands of leagues of flatness, stretching on and on til

e going on a journey, M

I told you on the tower I thought peace must dwell

ng time ago, Mad

his voice till she could scarcely hear him,

rses seemed to be wading through a silent sea of blood. The sky in the west looked like an

s slow to rely, quick to mistrust. She gathered, too, that very many things surprised him, and felt sure that he hid nearly all of them from her, and would-had not his own will sometimes betrayed him-have hidden all. His reserve was as intense as everything about him. There was a fierceness in it that revealed its existence. He always conveyed to her a feeling of strength, physical and mental. Yet he always conveyed, too, a feeling of uneasiness. To a woman

nto it and remained in it. And he was less self-conscious in silence than in speech. He seemed, she fancied, t

s silent, as if directly he ceased from speaking the flame in hi

whether he was a

education-feeling set aside-she would have answered without hesitation that it would be utterly impossible. Yet so it was. She could not decide. She could not place him. She could not imagine what his parentage, what his youth, his manhood had been. She could not fancy him in any environment-save that golden light, that blue radiance, in which she had first con

r men, breathed humanity-of so

ct with the world had tarnished her own original simplicity. But she only saw the

constrained, passionate, energetic, timid-yes, almost timid and shy. No other human being had ever, even at moments, thus got the better of her natural aud

t he often woke

she had at first. Sometimes indeed she thought that she felt less so, that the moment when the train ran out of the tunnel into

said to herself: "Do I

e half-drowsy, half-imaginative expression had gone out

n more than once, but Androvsky had not seen him. The meeting that was about to take place was due to

n of the Arabian Ni

r whether he had ever even heard of it. She mentioned the fact of Count Anteoni's having made the garden, and spoke of him, sketching light

black world I shoul

ky said

n," she continued. "Count Anteon

eautiful, Madame," he replie

say that

fulness of its green defiles, the strange, almost unearthly peace that reigned within it embalmed her spirit, as she learned not only to marvel

t, humble and determined, might not be known by her. He did not know that she had seen him, not only on that morning, but on many subsequent mornings, setting forth to study the new art in the solitude of the still hours

hat she wished, that presently she meant Androvsky to pass throu

whether she had made acquaintance wi

said. "Yo

ow

dden to Sid

always by

hink you wer

you th

ure you

ther acknowle

een to see my g

N

ght to

told h

s he c

't thi

idea what a pride! Any neglect of it, any indifference about i

he was feeling, whether the remote thinker

man to be easily p

not-persu

oment Dom

that there are obstacles which

ognising that the grains of sand are often dr

lie

. I want to have a

ha

in my

anta

l. A lunch party, a deje

ith you? Yes, of c

ring-the second

the Count's smal

ur Andr

invitation, of course. But that's rather

day do yo

day-F

do you

e to my garden. It hurts me, not onl

ne, and thought of the way in which Count Anteoni had said "Persuade him," she knew she would, and she meant Androvsky to accept it. Thi

the red, that came as it comes in

garden," she said before he could reply. "Count Ant

sieur the Count know that I a

's a hospitable man. Monsieur Androvsky, I wa

kind of yo

eme. Yet he did not like to say no.

when I asked

, Ma

Well, it has given you

, Ma

want to put another p

ffidence or obstinacy, but while she said the words she felt a sudden earnestness rush over her. It went in

, Madame," he

in the morning. I'll meet you

y?" he

ng in his acceptance. Domini d

he said in a

e went

come, yet she wished he had known. He might think that she had known the fact and had concealed it. She did not suppose for a moment that he disliked Father Roubier personally, but he certainly avoided him. He bowed to him in the coffee-room of the hotel, but never spoke to him. Batouch had told her about the episode with Bous-Bous. And she had seen Bous-Bous endeavour to renew the int

was really a thing of thistledown. Can it b

, n

uch in the world, to conceal the vexation that, visible, would c

ng me abominably na

ubier came out of the shadows of the trees w

p from her chair, "it is good of you to come out in the sun to eat fish

us, who took litt

ilden, I think?" c

I meet every day," s

t in the humble work of the Church in Beni-Mora," said th

sion, and, as such men often are, quietly at

ate," Domini said. "Will y

vsky? Let us accompany

trouble. I won

unt Anteoni at once acquiesce,

t for you he

between the little streams, and came into the deep shade, her vexation seemed to grow darker like the garden ways. For a moment she thought she understood the sensations that must surely sometimes beset a treacherous w

me is it

f-past twel

e door and see if

tagonism to the priesthood was certainly not a mental condition to be fostered, but a prejudice to be broken down. But she had wished-she still wished with ardour-that Androvsky's first visit to the garden should be a happy one, should pass off delightfully. She had a da

gentleman co

e it. Domini saw him framed in the white wood, with a brilliant blue behind him

ndrovsky!"

a sort of reluctant caution that pained her, she scarcely knew why.

o be your

you,

ked behind him. His demeanour was that of a man whose nerves were tormenting him. Domini began to dread tell

the way,"

f the trees and began to walk between

here already, so ou

ky stoo

You did not tell

w it till five

a flaming of distrust in his eyes, his lips were c

I thought Senor Anteo

nt companion, sincere and s

-he hesitated, then added, almost wit

for once-for an ho

king she felt the banality of such phrases spoken t

should have told you in order that you might have kept away if you wished to. But now that you are here-now that Smain has let you in and the Count

Instinct told her to teach him the way to con

"If you go, you tell them what you ha

end of an alley, the Count and the priest standing together beneath the jamelon tree. Bous-Bous ran forward barking, and Domini was conscious that Androvsky braced himself up, like a fighter stepping into the arena. Her keen sensitiveness of mind and body was so infected by his secret impetu

stepped forwar

vsky-Count Ante

et. She saw that Androvsky

courtesy. "Every traveller has to pay his tribute to my domain. I

eyes were on the priest. The

now Fathe

e hotel," Father Roubier said with h

not seem to see it. Domini glanced at Count Anteoni, and surprised a p

a-manger. Dejeuner will

leave Androvsky with the priest, and walked b

g to be a failur

bitterness. She felt angry with Count Anteoni, with Androvsky

e me!" the Count whisp

ere following, oppressed her. If only Androvsky would speak! He had not said

lms, Monsieur Androvsky?

to speak, as a touch of the lash commands a horse to quicken his pace. A

he said c

ey are w

lowing Domini's lead and speaking with a d

sieur, ce

st let me show them to you. I spent years in collecting my

nsciousness of Androvsky's lack of good breeding. He was certainly not a man of the world, whatever he might be. To-day, perhaps absurdly, she felt responsible for him, and as if he owed it to her to bear himself bravely and govern his dislikes if they clashed with the feelings

ance surprise you af

I have been in Africa I have felt tha

re towards the long flats of the Sahara,

too," she answered. "The

. She did not explain that she was no

be attended by a good deal of ceremony. Domini felt sorry, though not for herself. She had been accustomed to ceremony all her life, and noticed it, as a rule, almost as little as the air she breathed. But she feared that to Androvsky it would be novel and unpleasant. As they came into the shady room she saw him glance swiftly at the walls covered with dark Persian hangings, at the servants in their embroidered jackets, wide trousers, and snow-white turbans, at the vivid flowers on the table, then at the tall

silent grace and made the sign of the Cross, and when she glanced up after doing so she saw Androvsky's hand lifted to his forehead. For a moment she fancied that he

their napkins. "I am afraid, Father Roubier, you will not be able to do full justice to my chef,

," Domini inte

Poor H

she knew that he was really pl

ur Androvsky, will be able to join me in testing

Androvsky at once said,

no fas

ought that Father Roubier was going to treat them as a challenge, for he lifted his head

asy business. I once breakfasted with you on a Friday-two years ag

Androvsky, and yet she was full of pity for him. Why could he not meet courtesy with graciousness? There was something almost

madan strictly?" she asked,

ligion, I have often been moved by their adherence to its rules. There is something v

f every Arab, even of the absinthe-drinking renegades one sees here and there who have caught the vices of their conquerors. In the greatest scoundrel that the Prophet's robe covers

are superior to many who call themselves Christians. The

to defy the Divine

, Mademo

t of her d

f them, at this moment, poured red wine into Androvsky's glass. He uttered a

ite wine?" sai

nk you,

lass to his lip

e Count. "That is made from my own

llent," sai

pression that he was-subtly, how she did not know-defying not only the priest, but himself. Now and then she glanced across at him, and when she did so he was always looking away from her. After praising the wine he had relapsed into silence, and Count Anteoni-she thought moved by a very delicate sense of

Arabs far more than an

and she thought that just then th

e asked

into the voice of a lover of chi

e of a deep

rs whenever you s

r a moment he did not reply.

Have not you something of the same fee

noticed it in o

al Lavi

w his mind forcibly from this conversation in which he was t

know," the Count s

great de

rica. And h

ome special wa

n to find out that his success with them must come chiefly throu

ere is trut

st assented

too much of the

ress his lips. Then he tu

hink so,

sation. Androvsky could not ignore it. He looked up reluctantly from hi

bt--"

, clasping its edge, and continued fir

e good, think enough about the body, consider i

est, almost menacingly. Then, as if

tained his great influence by recognising that the bodies of me

re by his peculiar way of saying it, as if it were forced from him by some secret, irresistible compulsion. And the Count's interest

importance of the perishable. One runs the risk of detract

olves that devour the v

ilence. Father Roubier looked straight before him, but Count Ant

nsieur, if you

ut I have never s

ountry is, to me, the most interesting soul in Europe," the C

uld have been more gracious, even movin

know nothing

taken her soul prisoner. And suddenly, while she talked, she thought of the Desert as the burning brother of the frigid Steppes. Was it the wonder of the eternal flats that had spoken to her inmost heart sometimes in London concert-rooms, in her room at night when s

kin, you know," he said. "Despite

nking!" she exclaime

opped

said th

barbarous. First there was only one reiterated liquid note, clear and glassy, a note that suggested night in a remote place. Then, beneath it, as foundation to it, rose a rustling sound as of a forest of reeds through which a breeze went rhythmically. Into this stole the broken song of a thin in

sensation was that some other music must be coming which she had heard before, which had moved her deeply at some time in her life. She gla

she asked in

t towa

whispered

eans, found the barbarity of the desert music ugly and even distressing to the nerves. While she wondered a voice

sked under her breath. "Su

don't

ai

iod of her life she had certainly been deeply moved by it-but when? where? T

ra-W

, like the voice of a soul communing with itself in the

r?" whispere

eak. It was the song the Arab had sung as he turned into the sha

but Go

t is in m

olded together in a way that suggested prayer. Did this desert song of the black men, children of God lik

hands, the footfalls, the voices of hidden things-"What is going to happen to me here?" But that cry had risen in her, found words in her, only when confronted by the desert. Before it had been perhaps hidden in the womb. Only then was it born. And now the days had passed and the nights, and the song brought with it the cry once more, the cry and suddenly something else, anoth

t Anteoni spok

this song, no

bier shook

but I can never rem

you dis

great deal of meaning in it. In this song espe

i said in a low voice, st

is time addressing himself to Androvsky. "I d

lle dies i

dies in

the dunes of

that is de

ward the inner room, in which the low murmur of " Wurra-Wurra

e but G

t is in m

at what moved her deeply moved him even more deeply, whether in the same way or differently she could not tell. The image of the taper and the torch recurred to her mind. She saw Androvsky with fire round about him. The violence of this man surely resembled the violence of Africa. The

nt tomtom was surely the beating of that heart into whose mysteries no other human heart could look. Its reitera

room?" the Count said. "Cof

et us see them!"

music

no

her not hear a

u don'

of the servants slipped away a

he Count said. "Th

ent that the music had moved h

and something more. Some of these

," said the Count. "What do

were turned toward the door through

afraid that to me this music means

ked the Count with

me to suggest much

r room Domini felt angry, as she had felt angry i

ot interest me. I see no

en, she knew t