the garden of allah-第84章

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in　the　liqueur　he　remembered　who　I　was。〃

She　understood　De　Trevignac's　glance　towards　the　tent　where　Androvsky
lay　sleeping；　and　a　slight　shiver　ran　through　her。　Androvsky　saw　it
and　looked　down。

〃But　thethe〃

He　cleared　his　throat；　turned；　looked　out　across　the　white　sand　as　if
he　longed　to　travel　away　into　it　and　be　lost　for　ever；　then　went　on；
speaking　quickly：

〃But　the　monk　who　has　most　to　do　with　travellers　is　the　monk　who　is　in
charge　of　the　/hotellerie/　of　the　monastery。　He　is　the　host　to　all
visitors；　to　those　who　come　over　for　the　day　and　have　/dejeuner/；　and
to　any　who　remain　for　the　night；　or　for　a　longer　time。　For　when　I　was
at　El…Largani　it　was　permitted　for　people　to　stay　in　the　/hotellerie/；
on　payment　of　a　small　weekly　sum；　for　as　long　as　they　pleased。　The
monk　of　the　/hotellerie/　is　perpetually　brought　into　contact　with　the
outside　world。　He　talks　with　all　sorts　and　conditions　of　menwomen；
of　course；　are　not　admitted。　The　other　monks；　many　of　them；　probably
envy　him。　I　never　did。　I　had　no　wish　to　see　strangers。　When；　by
chance；　I　met　them　in　the　yard；　the　outbuildings；　or　the　grounds　of
the　monastery；　I　seldom　even　raised　my　eyes　to　look　at　them。　They　were
not；　would　never　be；　in　my　life。　Why　should　I　look　at　them？　What　were
they　to　me？　Years　went　onquickly　they　passednot　slowly。　I　did　not
feel　their　monotony。　I　never　shrank　from　anything　in　the　life。　My
health　was　splendid。　I　never　knew　what　it　was　to　be　ill　for　a　day。　My
muscles　were　hard　as　iron。　The　pallet　on　which　I　lay　in　my　cubicle；
the　heavy　robe　I　wore　day　and　night；　the　scanty　vegetables　I　ate；　the
bell　that　called　me　from　my　sleep　in　the　darkness　to　go　to　the　chapel；
the　fastings；　the　watchings；　the　perpetual　sameness　of　all　I　saw；　all
I　did；　neither　saddened　nor　fatigued　me。　I　never　sighed　for　change。
Can　you　believe　that；　Domini？　It　is　true。　So　long　as　Dom　Andre
Herceline　lived　and　ruled　my　life　I　was　calm；　happy；　as　few　people　in
the　world；　or　none；　can　ever　be。　But　Dom　Andre　died；　and　then〃

His　face　was　contorted　by　a　spasm。

〃My　mother　was　dead。　My　brother　lived　on　in　Tunis；　and　was　successful
in　business。　He　remained　unmarried。　So　far　as　I　was　concerned；
although　the　monastery　was　but　two　hours'　drive　from　the　town；　he
might　almost　have　been　dead　too。　I　scarcely　ever　saw　him；　and　then
only　by　a　special　permission　from　the　Reverend　Pere；　and　for　a　few
moments。　Once　I　visited　him　at　Tunis；　when　he　was　ill。　When　my　mother
died　I　seemed　to　sink　down　a　little　deeper　into　the　monastic　life。
That　was　all。　It　was　as　if　I　drew　my　robe　more　closely　round　me　and
pulled　my　hood　further　forward　over　my　face。　There　was　more　reason　for
my　prayers；　and　I　prayed　more　passionately。　I　lived　in　prayer　like　a
sea…plant　in　the　depths　of　the　ocean。　Prayer　was　about　me　like　a
fluid。　But　Dom　Andre　Herceline　died；　and　a　new　Abbe　was　appointed；　he
who；　I　suppose；　rules　now　at　El…Largani。　He　was　a　good　man；　but；　I
think；　apt　to　misunderstand　men。　The　Abbe　of　a　Trappist　monastery　has
complete　power　over　his　community。　He　can　order　what　he　will。　Soon
after　he　came　to　El…Larganifor　some　reason　that　I　cannot　divinehe
removed　the　Pere　Michel；　who　had　been　for　years　in　charge　of　the
cemetery；　from　his　duties　there；　and　informed　me　that　I　was　to
undertake　them。　I　obeyed；　of　course；　without　a　word。

〃The　cemetery　of　El…Largani　is　on　a　low　hill；　the　highest　part　of　the
monastery　grounds。　It　is　surrounded　by　a　white　wall　and　by　a　hedge　of
cypress　trees。　The　road　to　it　is　an　avenue　of　cypresses；　among　which
are　interspersed　niches　containing　carvings　of　the　Fourteen　Stations
of　the　Cross。　At　the　entrance　to　this　avenue；　on　the　left；　there　is　a
high　yellow　pedestal；　surmounted　by　a　black　cross；　on　which　hangs　a
silver　Christ。　Underneath　is　written：

〃FACTUS　OBEDIENS
　　　　〃USQUE
　　　〃AD　MORTEM
　　　　〃CRUCIS。

〃I　remember；　on　the　first　day　when　I　became　the　guardian　of　the
cemetery；　stopping　on　my　way　to　it　before　the　Christ　and　praying。　My
prayermy　prayer　was；　Domini；　that　I　might　die；　as　I　had　lived；　in
innocence。　I　prayed　for　that；　but　with　a　sort　ofyes；　now　I　think　so
insolent　certainty　that　my　prayer　would　of　course　be　granted。　Then　I
went　on　to　the　cemetery。

〃My　work　there　was　easy。　I　had　only　to　tend　the　land　about　the　graves；
and　sweep　out　the　little　chapel　where　was　buried　the　founder　of　La
Trappe　of　El…Largani。　This　done　I　could　wander　about　the　cemetery；　or
sit　on　a　bench　in　the　sun。　The　Pere　Michel；　who　was　my　predecessor；
had　some　doves；　and　had　left　them　behind　in　a　little　house　by　my
bench。　I　took　care　of　and　fed　them。　They　were　tame；　and　used　to
flutter　to　my　shoulders　and　perch　on　my　hands。　To　birds　and　animals　I
was　always　a　friend。　At　El…Largani　there　are　all　sorts　of　beasts；　and；
at　one　time　or　another；　it　had　been　my　duty　to　look　after　most　of
them。　I　loved　all　living　things。　Sitting　in　the　cemetery　I　could　see　a
great　stretch　of　country；　the　blue　of　the　lakes　of　Tunis　with　the
white　villages　at　their　edge；　the　boats　gliding　upon　them　towards　the
white　city；　the　distant　mountains。　Having　little　to　do；　I　sat　day
after　day　for　hours　meditating；　and　looking　out　upon　this　distant
world。　I　remember　specially　one　evening；　at　sunset；　just　before　I　had
to　go　to　the　chapel；　that　a　sort　of　awe　came　upon　me　as　I　looked
across　the　lakes。　The　sky　was　golden；　the　waters　were　dyed　with　gold；
out　of　which　rose　the　white　sails　of　boats。　The　mountains　were　shadowy
purple。　The　little　minarets　of　the　mosques　rose　into　the　gold　like
sticks　of　ivory。　As　I　watched　my　eyes　filled　with　tears；　and　I　felt　a
sort　of　aching　in　my　heart；　and　as　ifDomini；　it　was　as　if　at　that
moment　a　hand　was　laid；　on　mine；　but　very　gently；　and　pulled　at　my
hand。　It　was　as　if　at　that　moment　someone　was　beside　me　in　the
cemetery　wishing　to　lead　me　out　to　those　far…off　waters；　those　mosque
towers；　those　purple　mountains。　Never　before　had　I　had　such　a
sensation。　It　frightened　me。　I　felt　as　if　the　devil　had　come　into　the
cemetery；　as　if　his　hand　was　laid　on　mine；　as　if　his　voice　were
whispering　in　my　ear；　'Come　out　with　me　into　that　world；　that
beautiful　world；　which　God　made　for　men。　Why　do　you　reject　it？'

〃That　evening；　Domini；　was　the　beginning　of　thisthis　end。　Day　after
day　I　sat　in　the　cemetery　and　looked　out　over　the　world；　and　wondered
what　it　was　like：　what　were　the　lives　of　the　men　who　sailed　in　the
white…winged　boats；　who　crowded　on　the　steamers　whose　smoke　I　could
see　sometimes　faintly　trailing　away　into　the　track　of　the　sun；　who
kept　the　sheep　upon　the　mountains；　whowhoDomini；　can　you　imagine
no；　you　cannotwhat；　in　a　man　of　my　age；　of　my　blood；　were　these
first；　very　first；　stirrings　of　the　longing　for　life？　Sometimes　I
think　they　were　like　the　first　birth…pangs　of　a　woman　who　is　going　to
be　a　mother。〃

Domini's　hands　moved　apart；　then　joined　themselves　again。

〃There　was　something　physical　in　them。　I　felt　as　if　my　limbs　had
minds；　and　that　their　minds；　which　had　been　asleep；　were　waking。　My
arms　twitched　with　a　desire　to　stretch　themselves　towards　the　distant
blue　of　the　lakes　on　which　I　should　never　sail。　MyI　was　physically
stirred。　And　again　and　again　I　felt　that　hand　laid　closely　upon　mine；
as　if　to　draw　me　away　into　something　I　had　never　known；　could　never
know。　Do　not　think　that　I　did　not　strive　against　these　first　stirrings
of　the　nature　that　had　slept　so　long！　For　days　I　refused　to　let　myself
look　out　from　the　cemetery。　I　kept　my　eyes　upon　the　ground；　upon　the
plain　crosses　that　marked　the　graves。　I　played　with　the　red…eyed
doves。　I　worked。　But　my　eyes　at　last　rebelled。　I　said　to　myself；　'It
is　not　forbidden　to　look。'　And　again　the　sails；　the　seas；　the　towers；
the　mountains；　were　as　voices　whispering　to　me；　'Why　will　you　never
know　us；　draw　near　to　us？　Why　will　you　never　understand　our　meaning？
Why　will　you　be　ignorant　for　ever　of　all　that　has　been　created　for　man
to　know？'　Then　the　pain　within　me　became　almost　unbearable。　At　night　I
could　not　sleep。　In　the　chapel　it　was　difficult　to　pray。　I　looked　at
the　monks　around　me；　to　most　of　whom　I　had　never　addressed　a　word；　and
I　thought；　'Do　they；　too；　hold　such　longings　within　them？　Are　they；
too；　shaken　with　a　desire　of　knowledge？'　It　seemed　to　me　that；　instead
of　a　place　of　peace；　the　monastery　was；　must　be；　a　place　of　tumult；　of
the　silent　tumult　that　has　its　home　in　the　souls　of　men。　But　then　I
remembered　for　how　long　I　had　been　at　peace。　Perhaps　all　the　silent
men　by　whom　I　was　surrounded　were　still　at　peace；　as　I　had　been；　as　I
might　be　again。

〃A　young　monk　died　in　the　monastery　and　was　buried　in　the　cemetery。　I
made　his　grave　against　the　outer　wall；　beneath　a　cypress　tree。　Some
days　afterwards；　when　I　was　sitting　on　the　bench　by　the　house　of　the
doves；　I　heard　a　sound；　which　came　from　beyond　the　wall。　It　was　like
sobbing。　I　listened；　and　heard　it　more　distinctly；　and　knew　that　it
was　someone　crying　and　sobbing　desperately；　and　near　at　hand。　But　now
it　seemed　to　me　to　come　from　the　wall　itself。　I　got　up　and　listened。
Someone　was　crying　bitterly　behind；　or　above；　the　wall；　just　where　the
young　monk　had　been　buried。　Who　could　it　be？　I　stood　listening；
wondering；　hesitating　what　to　do。　There　was　something　in　this　sound　of
lamentation　that　moved　one　to　the　depths。　For　years　I　had　not　looked
on　a　woman；　or　heard　a　woman's　voicebut　I　knew　that　this　was　a　woman
mourning。　Why　was　she　there？　What　could　she　want？　I　glanced　up。　All
round　the　cemetery；　as　I　have　said；　grew　cypress　trees。　As　I　glanced
up　I　saw　one　shake　just　above　where　the　new　grave　was；　and　a　woman's
voice　said；　'I　cannot　see　it；　I　cannot　see　it！'

〃I　do　not　know　why；　but　I　felt　that　someone　was　there　who　wished　to
see　the　young　monk's　grave。　For　a　moment　I　stood　there。　Then　I　went　to
the　house　where　I　kept　my　tools　for　my　work　in　the　cemetery；　and　got　a
shears　which　I　used　for　lopping　the　cypress　trees。　I　took　a　ladder
quickly；　set　it　against　the　wall；　mounted　it；　and　from　the　cypress　I
had　seen　moving　I　lopped　some　of　the　boughs。　The　sobbing　ceased。　As
the　boughs　fell　down　from　the　tree　I　saw　a　woman's　face；　tear…stained；
staring　at　me。　It　seemed　to　me　a　lovely　face。

〃'Which　is　his　grave？'　she　said。　I　pointed　to　the　grave　of　the　young
monk；　which　could　now　be　seen　through　the　gap　I　had　made；　descended
the　ladder；　and　went　away　to　the　farthest　corner　of　the　cemetery。　And
I　did　not　look　again　in　the　direction　of　the　woman's　face。

〃Who　she　was　I　do　not　know。　When　she　went　away　I　did　not　see。　She
loved　the　monk　who　had　died；　and　knowing　that　women　cannot　enter　the
precincts　of　the　monastery；　she　had　come　to　the　outside　wall　to　cast；
if　she　might；　a　despairing　glance　at　his　grave。

〃Domini；　I　wonderI　wonder　if　you　can　understand　how　that　incident
affected　me。　To　an　ordinary　man　it　would　seem　nothing；　I　suppose。　But
to　a　Trappist　monk　it　seemed　tremendous。　I　had　seen　a　woman。　I　had
done　something　for　a　woman。　I　thought　of　her；　of　what　I　had　done　for
her；　perpetually。　The　gap　in　the　cypress　tree　reminded　me　of　her　every
time　I　looked　towards　it。　When　I　was　in　the　cemetery　I　could　hardly
turn　my　eyes　from　it。　But　the　woman　never　came　again。　I　said　nothing
to　the　Reverend　Pere　of　what　I　had　done。　I　ought　to　have　spoken；　b