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the garden of allah-第68章

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this blanching heaven the desert; and all things and people of the
oasis of Beni…Mora; assumed an aspect of apprehension; as if they felt
themselves to be in the thrall of some power whose omnipotence they
could not question and whose purpose they feared。 This whiteness was
shot; at the hour of sunset; with streaks of sulphur yellow and
dappled with small; ribbed clouds tinged with yellow…green; a bitter
and cruel shade of green that distressed the eyes as a merciless light
distresses them; but these colours quickly faded; and again the
whiteness prevailed for a brief space of time before the heavy falling
of a darkness unpierced by stars。 With this darkness came a faint
moaning of hollow wind from the desert; a lamentable murmur that
shuddered over the great spaces; crept among the palms and the flat…
roofed houses; and died away at the foot of the brown mountains beyond
the Hammam Salahine。 The succeeding silence; short and intense; was
like a sound of fear; like the cry of a voice lifted up in protest
against the approach of an unknown; but dreaded; fate。 Then the wind
came again with a stronger moaning and a lengthened life; not yet
forceful; not yet with all its powers; but more tenacious; more
acquainted with itself and the deeds that it might do when the night
was black among the vast sands which were its birth…place; among the
crouching plains and the trembling palm groves that would be its
battle…ground。

Batouch looked grave as he listened to the wind and the creaking of
the palm stems one against another。 Sand came upon his face。 He pulled
the hood of his burnous over his turban and across his cheeks; covered
his mouth with a fold of his haik and stared into the blackness; like
an animal in search of something his instinct has detected approaching
from a distance。

Ali was beside him in the doorway of the Cafe Maure; a slim Arab boy;
bronze…coloured and serious as an idol; who was a troubadour of the
Sahara; singer of 〃Janat〃 and many lovesongs; player of the guitar
backed with sand tortoise and faced with stretched goatskin。 Behind
them swung an oil lamp fastened to a beam of palm; and the red ashes
glowed in the coffee niche and shed a ray upon the shelf of small
white cups with faint designs of gold。 In a corner; his black face and
arms faintly relieved against the wall; an old negro crouched; gazing
into vacancy with bulging eyes; and beating with a curved palm stem
upon an oval drum; whose murmur was deep and hollow as the murmur of
the wind; and seemed indeed its echo prisoned within the room and
striving to escape。

〃There is sand on my eyelids;〃 said Batouch。 〃It is bad for to…morrow。
When Allah sends the sands we should cover the face and play the
ladies' game within the cafe; we should not travel on the road towards
the south。〃

Ali said nothing; but drew up his haik over his mouth and nose; and
looked into the night; folding his thin hands in his burnous。

〃Achmed will sleep in the Bordj of Arba;〃 continued Batouch in a low;
murmuring voice; as if speaking to himself。 〃And the beasts will be in
the court。 Nothing can remain outside; for there will be a greater
roaring of the wind at Arba。 Can it be the will of Allah that we rest
in the tents to…morrow?〃

Ali made no answer。 The wind had suddenly died down。

The sand grains came no more against their eyelids and the folds of
their haiks。 Behind them the negro's drum gave out monotonously its
echo of the wind; filling the silence of the night。

〃Whatever Allah sends;〃 Batouch went on softly after a pause; 〃Madame
will go。 She is brave as the lion。 There is no jackal in Madame。 Irena
is not more brave than she is。 But Madame will never wear the veil for
a man's sake。 She will not wear the veil; but she could give a knife…
thrust if he were to look at another woman as he has looked at her; as
he will look at her to…morrow。 She is proud as a Touareg and there is
fierceness in her。 But he will never look at another woman as he will
look at her to…morrow。 The Roumi is not as we are。〃

The wind came back to join its sound with the drum; imprisoning the
two Arabs in a muttering circle。

〃They will not care;〃 said Batouch。 〃They will go out into the storm
without fear。〃

The sand pattered more sharply on his eyelids。 He drew back into the
cafe。 Ali followed him; and they squatted down side by side upon the
ground and looked before them seriously。 The noise of the wind
increased till it nearly drowned the noise of the negro's drum。
Presently the one…eyed owner of the cafe brought them two cups of
coffee; setting the cups near their stockinged feet。 They rolled two
cigarettes and smoked in silence; sipping the coffee from time to
time。 Then Ali began to glance towards the negro。 Half shutting his
eyes; and assuming a languid expression that was almost sickly; he
stretched his lips in a smile; gently moving his head from side to
side。 Batouch watched him。 Presently he opened his lips and began to
sing:

 〃The love of women is like a date that is golden in the sun;
    That is golden
  The love of women is like a gazelle that comes to drink
    To drink at the water springs
  The love of women is like the nargileh; and like the dust of the keef
    That is mingled with tobacco and with honey。
  Put the reed between thy lips; O loving man!
  And draw dreams from the haschish that is the love of women!
        Janat! Janat! Janat!〃

The wind grew louder and sand was blown along the cafe floor and about
the coffee…cups。

 〃The love of women is like the rose of the Caid's garden
    That is full of silver tears
  The love of women is like the first day of the spring
    When the children play at Cora
  The love of women is like the Derbouka that has been warmed at the fire
    And gives out a sweet sound。
  Take it in thy hands; O loving man!
  And sing to the Derbouka that is the love of women。
        Janat! Janat! Janat!〃

In the doorway; where the lamp swung from the beam; a man in European
dress stood still to listen。 The wind wailed behind him and stirred
his clothes。 His eyes shone in the faint light with a fierceness of
emotion in which there was a joy that was almost terrible; but in
which there seemed also to be something that was troubled。 When the
song died away; and only the voices of the wind and the drum spoke to
the darkness; he disappeared into the night。 The Arabs did not see
him。

       〃Janat! Janat! Janat!〃

The night drew on and the storm increased。 All the doors of the houses
were closely shut。 Upon the roofs the guard dogs crouched; shivering
and whining; against the earthen parapets。 The camels groaned in the
fondouks; and the tufted heads of the palms swayed like the waves of
the sea。 And the Sahara seemed to be lifting up its voice in a summons
that was tremendous as a summons to Judgment。

Domini had always known that the desert would summon her。 She heard
its summons now in the night without fear。 The roaring of the tempest
was sweet in her ears as the sound of the Derbouka to the loving man
of the sands。 It accorded with the fire that lit up the cloud of
passion in her heart。 Its wildness marched in step with a marching
wildness in her veins and pulses。 For her gipsy blood was astir
to…night; and the recklessness of the boy in her seemed to clamour
with the storm。 The sound of the wind was as the sound of the clashing
cymbals of Liberty; calling her to the adventure that love would
glorify; to the far…away life that love would make perfect; to the
untrodden paths of the sun of which she had dreamed in the shadows;
and on which she would set her feet at last with the comrade of her
soul。

To…morrow her life would begin; her real life; the life of which men
and women dream as the prisoner dreams of freedom。 And she was glad;
she thanked God; that her past years had been empty of joy; that in
her youth she had been robbed of youth's pleasures。 She thanked God
that she had come to maturity without knowing love。 It seemed to her
that to love in early life was almost pitiful; was a catastrophe; an
experience for which the soul was not ready; and so could not
appreciate at its full and wonderful value。 She thought of it as of a
child being taken away from the world to Paradise without having known
the pain of existence in the world; and at that moment she worshipped
suffering。 Every tear that she had ever shed she loved; every weary
hour; every despondent thought; every cruel disappointment。 She called
around her the congregation of her past sorrows; and she blessed them
and bade them depart from her for ever。

As she heard the roaring of the wind she smiled。 The Sahara was
fulfilling the words of the Diviner。 To…morrow she and Androvsky would
go out into the storm and the darkness together。 The train of camels
would be lost in the desolation of the desert。 And the people of Beni…
Mora would see it vanish; and; perhaps; would pity those who were
hidden by the curtains of the palanquin。 They would pity her as
Suzanne pitied her; openly; with eyes that were tragic。 She laughed
aloud。

It was late in the night。 Midnight had sounded yet she did not go to
bed。 She feared to sleep; to lose the consc
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