the garden of allah-第57章

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the　/fumoir/；　from　whose　walls　it　tore　down　frantically　the　purple
petals　of　the　bougainvillea　and　dashed　them；　like　enemies　defeated；
upon　the　quivering　paths　which　were　made　of　its　own　body。

Everywhere　in　the　oasis　it　came　with　a　lust　to　kill；　but　surely　its
deepest　enmity　was　concentrated　upon　the　Catholic　Church。

There；　despite　the　tempest；　people　were　huddled；　drawn　together　not　so
much　by　the　ceremony　that　was　to　take　place　within　as　by　the　desire　to
see　the　departure　of　an　unusual　caravan。　In　every　desert　centre　news
is　propagated　with　a　rapidity　seldom　equalled　in　the　home　of
civilisation。　It　runs　from　mouth　to　mouth　like　fire　along　straw。　And
Batouch；　in　his　glory；　had　not　been　slow　to　speak　of　the　wonders
prepared　under　his　superintendence　to　make　complete　the　desert　journey
of　his　mistress　and　Androvsky。　The　main　part　of　the　camp　had　already
gone　forward；　and　must　have　reached　Arba；　the　first　halting　stage
outside　Beni…Mora；　tents；　the　horses　for　the　Roumis；　the　mules　to
carry　necessary　baggage；　the　cooking　utensils　and　the　guard　dogs。　But
the　Roumis　themselves　were　to　depart　from　the　church　on　camel…back
directly　the　marriage　was　accomplished。　Domini；　who　had　a　native
hatred　of　everything　that　savoured　of　ostentation；　had　wished　for　a
tiny　expedition；　and　would　gladly　have　gone　out　into　the　desert　with
but　one　tent；　Batouch　and　a　servant　to　do　the　cooking。　But　the　journey
was　to　be　long　and　indefinite；　an　aimless　wandering　through　the　land
of　liberty　towards　the　south；　without　fixed　purpose　or　time　of
returning。　She　knew　nothing　of　what　was　necessary　for　such　a　journey；
and　tired　of　ceaseless　argument；　and　too　much　occupied　with　joy　to
burden　herself　with　detail；　at　last　let　Batouch　have　his　way。

〃I　leave　it　to　you；　Batouch；〃　she　said。　〃But；　remember；　as　few　people
and　beasts　as　possible。　And　as　you　say　we　must　have　camels　for　certain
parts　of　the　journey；　we　will　travel　the　first　stage　on　camel…back。〃

Consciously　she　helped　to　fulfil　the　prediction　of　the　Diviner；　and
then　she　left　Batouch　free。

Now　outside　the　church；　shrouded　closely　in　hoods　and　haiks；　grey　and
brown　bundles　with　staring　eyes；　the　desert　men　were　huddled　against
the　church　wall　in　the　wind。　Hadj　was　there；　and　Smain；　sheltering　in
his　burnous　roses　from　Count　Anteoni's　garden。　Larbi　had　come　with　his
flute　and　the　perfume…seller　from　his　black　bazaar。　For　Domini　had
bought　perfumes　from　him　on　her　last　day　in　Beni…Mora。　Most　of　Count
Anteoni's　gardeners　had　assembled。　They　looked　upon　the　Roumi　lady；
who　rode　magnificently；　but　who　could　dream　as　they　dreamed；　too；　as　a
friend。　Had　she　not　haunted　the　alleys　where　they　worked　and　idled
till　they　had　learned　to　expect　her；　and　to　miss　her　when　she　did　not
come？　And　with　those　whom　Domini　knew　were　assembled　their　friends；
and　their　friends'　friends；　men　of　Beni…Mora；　men　from　the　near　oasis；
and　also　many　of　those　desert　wanderers　who　drift　in　daily　out　of　the
sands　to　the　centres　of　buying　and　selling；　barter　their　goods　for　the
goods　of　the　South；　or　sell　their　loads　of　dates　for　money；　and；
having　enjoyed　the　dissipation　of　the　cafes　and　of　the　dancing…houses；
drift　away　again　into　the　pathless　wastes　which　are　their　home。

Few　of　the　French　population　had　ventured　out；　and　the　church　itself
was　almost　deserted　when　the　hour　for　the　wedding　drew　nigh。

The　priest　came　from　his　little　house；　bending　forward　against　the
wind；　his　eyes　partially　protected　from　the　driving　sand　by　blue
spectacles。　His　face；　which　was　habitually　grave；　to…day　looked　sad
and　stern；　like　the　face　of　a　man　about　to　perform　a　task　that　was
against　his　inclination；　even　perhaps　against　his　conscience。　He
glanced　at　the　waiting　Arabs　and　hastened　into　the　church；　taking　off
his　spectacles　as　he　did　so；　and　wiping　his　eyes；　which　were　red　from
the　action　of　the　sand…grains；　with　a　silk　pocket…handkerchief。　When
he　reached　the　sacristy　he　shut　himself　into　it　alone　for　a　moment。　He
sat　down　on　a　chair　and；　leaning　his　arms　upon　the　wooden　table　that
stood　in　the　centre　of　the　room；　bent　forward　and　stared　before　him　at
the　wall　opposite；　listening　to　the　howling　of　the　wind。

Father　Roubier　had　an　almost　passionate　affection　for　his　little
church　of　Beni…Mora。　So　long　and　ardently　had　he　prayed　and　taught　in
it；　so　often　had　he　passed　the　twilight　hours　in　it　alone　wrapped　in
religious　reveries；　or　searching　his　conscience　for　the　shadows　of
sinful　thoughts；　that　it　had　become　to　him　as　a　friend；　and　more　than
a　friend。　He　thought　of　it　sometimes　as　his　confessor　and　sometimes　as
his　child。　Its　stones　were　to　him　as　flesh　and　blood；　its　altars　as
lips　that　whispered　consolation　in　answer　to　his　prayers。　The　figures
of　its　saints　were　heavenly　companions。　In　its　ugliness　he　perceived
only　beauty；　in　its　tawdriness　only　the　graces　that　are　sweet
offerings　to　God。　The　love　that；　had　he　not　been　a　priest；　he　might
have　given　to　a　woman　he　poured　forth　upon　his　church；　and　with　it
that　other　love　which；　had　it　been　the　design　of　his　Heavenly　Father；
would　have　fitted　him　for　the　ascetic；　yet　impassioned；　life　of　an
ardent　and　devoted　monk。　To　defend　this　consecrated　building　against
outrage　he　would；　without　hesitation；　have　given　his　last　drop　of
blood。　And　now　he　was　to　perform　in　it　an　act　against　which　his　whole
nature　revolted；　he　was　to　join　indissolubly　the　lives　of　these　two
strangers　who　had　come　to　Beni…MoraDomini　Enfilden　and　Boris
Androvsky。　He　was　to　put　on　the　surplice　and　white　stole；　to　say　the
solemn　and　irreparable　〃Ego　Jungo；〃　to　sprinkle　the　ring　with　holy
water　and　bless　it。

As　he　sat　there　alone；　listening　to　the　howling　of　the　storm　outside；
he　went　mentally　through　the　coming　ceremony。　He　thought　of　the
wonderful　grace　and　beauty　of　the　prayers　of　benediction；　and　it
seemed　to　him　that　to　pronounce　them　with　his　lips；　while　his　nature
revolted　against　his　own　utterance；　was　to　perform　a　shameful　act；　was
to　offer　an　insult　to　this　little　church　he　loved。

Yet　how　could　he　help　performing　this　act？　He　knew　that　he　would　do
it。　Within　a　few　minutes　he　would　be　standing　before　the　altar；　he
would　be　looking　into　the　faces　of　this　man　and　woman　whose　love　he
was　called　upon　to　consecrate。　He　would　consecrate　it；　and　they　would
go　out　from　him　into　the　desert　man　and　wife。　They　would　be　lost　to
his　sight　in　the　town。

His　eye　fell　upon　a　silver　crucifix　that　was　hanging　upon　the　wall　in
front　of　him。　He　was　not　a　very　imaginative　man；　not　a　man　given　to
fancies；　a　dreamer　of　dreams　more　real　to　him　than　life；　or　a　seer　of
visions。　But　to…day　he　was　stirred；　and　perhaps　the　unwonted　turmoil
of　his　mind　acted　subtly　upon　his　nervous　system。　Afterward　he　felt
certain　that　it　must　have　been　so；　for　in　no　other　way　could　he
account　for　a　fantasy　that　beset　him　at　this　moment。

As　he　looked　at　the　crucifix　there　came　against　the　church　a　more
furious　beating　of　the　wind；　and　it　seemed　to　him　that　the　Christ　upon
the　crucifix　shuddered。

He　saw　it　shudder。　He　started；　leaned　across　the　table　and　stared　at
the　crucifix　with　eyes　that　were　full　of　an　amazement　that　was　mingled
with　horror。　Then　he　got　up；　crossed　the　room　and　touched　the　crucifix
with　his　finger。　As　he　did　so；　the　acolyte；　whose　duty　it　was　to　help
him　to　robe；　knocked　at　the　sacristy　door。　The　sharp　noise　recalled
him　to　himself。　He　knew　that　for　the　first　time　in　his　life　he　had
been　the　slave　of　an　optical　delusion。　He　knew　it；　and　yet　he　could
not　banish　the　feeling　that　God　himself　was　averse　from　the　act　that
he　was　on　the　point　of　committing　in　this　church　that　confronted
Islam；　that　God　himself　shuddered　as　surely　even　He；　the　Creator；　must
shudder　at　some　of　the　actions　of　his　creatures。　And　this　feeling
added　immensely　to　the　distress　of　the　priest's　mind。　In　performing
this　ceremony　he　now　had　the　dreadful　sensation　that　he　was　putting
himself　into　direct　antagonism　with　God。　His　instinctive　horror　of
Androvsky　had　never　been　so　great　as　it　was　to…day。　In　vain　he　had
striven　to　conquer　it；　to　draw　near　to　this　man　who　roused　all　the
repulsion　of　his　nature。　His　efforts　had　been　useless。　He　had　prayed
to　be　given　the　sympathy　for　this　man　that　the　true　Christian　ought　to
feel　towards　every　human　being；　even　the　most　degraded。　But　he　felt
that　his　prayers　had　not　been　answered。　With　every　day　his　antipathy
for　Androvsky　increased。　Yet　he　was　entirely　unable　to　ground　it　upon
any　definite　fact　in　Androvsky's　character。　He　did　not　know　that
character。　The　man　was　as　much　a　mystery　to　him　as　on　the　day　when
they　first　met。　And　to　this　living　mystery　from　which　his　soul
recoiled　he　was　about　to　consign；　with　all　the　beautiful　and　solemn
blessings　of　his　Church；　a　woman　whose　character　he　respected；　whose
innate　purity；　strength　and　nobility　he　had　quickly　divined；　and　no
less　quickly　learned　to　love。

It　was　a　bitter；　even　a　horrible；　moment　to　him。

The　little　acolyte；　a　French　boy；　son　of　the　postmaster　of　Beni…Mora；
was　startled　by　the　sight　of　the　Father's　face　when　he　opened　the
sacristy　door。　He　had　never　before　seen　such　an　expression　of　almost
harsh　pain　in　those　usually　kind　eyes；　and　he　drew　back　from　the
threshold　like　one　afraid。　His　movement　recalled　the　priest　to　a　sharp
consciousness　of　the　necessities　of　the　moment；　and　with　a　strong
effort　he　conquered　his　pain　sufficiently　to　conceal　all　outward
expression　of　it。　He　smiled　gently　at　the　little　boy　and　said：

〃Is　it　time？〃

The　child　looked　reassured。

〃Yes；　Father。〃

He　came　into　the　sacristy　and　went　towards　the　cupboard　where　the
vestments　were　kept；　passing　the　silver　crucifix。　As　he　did　so　he
glanced　at　it。　He　opened　the　cupboard；　then　stood　for　a　moment　and
again　turned　his　eyes　to　the　Christ。　The　Father　watched　him。

〃What　are　you　looking　at；　Paul？〃　he　asked。

〃Nothing；　Father；〃　the　boy　replied；　with　a　sudden　expression　of
reluctance　that　was　almost　obstinate。

And　he　began　to　take　the　priest's　robes　out　of　the　cupboard。

Just　then　the　wind　wailed　again　furiously　about　the　church；　and　the
crucifix　fell　down　upon　the　floor　of　the　sacristy。

The　priest　started　forward；　picked　it　up；　and　stood　with　it　in　his
hand。　He　glanced　at　the　wall；　and　saw　at　once　that　the　nail　to　which
the　crucifix　had　been　fastened　had　come　out　of　its　hole。　A　flake　of
plaster　had　been　detached；　perhaps　some　days　ago；　and　the　hole　had
become　too　large　to　retain　the　nail。　The　explanation　of　the　matter　was
perfect；　simple　and　comprehensible。　Yet　the　priest　felt　as　if　a
catastrophe　had　just　taken　place。　As　he　stared　at　the　cross　he　heard　a
little　noise　near　him。　The　acolyte　was　crying。

〃Why；　Paul；　what's　the　matter？〃　he　said。

〃Why　did　it　do　that？〃　exclaimed　the　boy；　as　if　alarmed。　〃Why　did　it　do
that？〃

〃Perhaps　it　was　the　wind。　Everything　is　shaking。　Come；　come；　my　child；
there　is　nothing　to　be　afraid　of。〃

He　laid　the　crucifix　on　the　table。　Paul　dried　his　eyes　with　his　fists。

〃I　don't　like　to…day；〃　he　said。　〃I　don't　like　to…day。〃

The　priest　patted　him　on　the　shoulder。

〃The　weather　has　upset　you；〃　he　said；　smiling。

But　the　nervous　behaviour　of　the　child　deepened　strangely　his　own
sense　of　apprehension。　When　h