it seemed to emphasise； making them pale as the face of one terror…
stricken。 The city wall cast a deep shadow over the moat of sand in
which； wrapped in filthy rags； lay nomads sleeping。 Upon the sand…
hills the camps were alive with movement。 Fires blazed and smoke
ascended before the tents that made patches of blackness upon the
waste。 Round the fires were seated groups of men devouring cous…cous
and the red soup beloved of the nomad。 Behind them circled the dogs
with quivering nostrils。 Squadrons of camels lay crouched in the sand；
resting after their journeys。 And everywhere； from the city and from
the waste； rose distant sounds of music； thin； aerial flutings like
voices of the night winds； acrid cries from the pipes； and the far…off
rolling of the African drums that are the foundation of every desert
symphony。
Although she was now accustomed to the music of Africa； Domini could
never hear it without feeling the barbarity of the land from which it
rose； the wildness of the people who made and who loved it。 Always it
suggested to her an infinite remoteness； as if it were music sounding
at the end of the world； full of half…defined meanings； melancholy yet
fierce passion； longings that； momentarily satisfied； continually
renewed themselves； griefs that were hidden behind thin veils like the
women of the East； but that peered out with expressive eyes； hinting
their story and desiring assuagement。 And tonight the meaning of the
music seemed deeper than it had been before。 She thought of it as an
outside echo of the voices murmuring in her mind and heart； and the
voices murmuring in the mind and heart of Androvsky； broken voices
some of them； but some strong； fierce； tense and alive with meaning。
And as she sat there alone she thought this unity of music drew her
closer to the desert than she had ever been before； and drew Androvsky
with her； despite his great reserve。 In the heart of the desert he
would surely let her see at last fully into his heart。 When he came
back in the night from the priest he would speak。 She was waiting for
that。
The moon was mounting。 Its light grew stronger。 She looked across the
sands and saw fires in the city； and suddenly she said to herself；
〃This is the vision of the sand…diviner realised in my life。 He saw me
as I am now； in this place。〃 And she remembered the scene in the
garden； the crouching figure； the extended arms； the thin fingers
tracing swift patterns in the sand； the murmuring voice。
To…night she felt deeply expectant； but almost sad； encompassed by the
mystery that hangs in clouds about human life and human relations。
What could be that great joy of which the Diviner had spoken？ A
woman's great joy that starred the desert with flowers and made the
dry places run with sweet waters。 What could it be？
Suddenly she felt again the oppression of spirit she had been
momentarily conscious of in the afternoon。 It was like a load
descending upon her； and； almost instantly； communicated itself to her
body。 She was conscious of a sensation of unusual weariness；
uneasiness； even dread； then again of an intensity of life that
startled her。 This intensity remained； grew in her。 It was as if the
principle of life； like a fluid； were being poured into her out of the
vials of God； as if the little cup that was all she had were too small
to contain the precious liquid。 That seemed to her to be the cause of
the pain of which she was conscious。 She was being given more than she
felt herself capable of possessing。 She got up from her chair； unable
to remain still。 The movement； slight though it was； seemed to remove
a veil of darkness that had hung over her and to let in upon her a
flood of light。 She caught hold of the canvas of the tent。 For a
moment she felt weak as a child； then strong as an Amazon。 And the
sense of strength remained； grew。 She walked out upon the sand in the
direction by which Androvsky would return。 The fires in the city and
the camps were to her as illuminations for a festival。 The music was
the music of a great rejoicing。 The vast expanse of the desert； wintry
white under the moon； dotted with the fires of the nomads； blossomed
as the rose。 After a few moments she stopped。 She was on the crest of
a sand…bank； and could see below her the faint track in the sand which
wound to the city gate。 By this track Androvsky would surely return。
From a long distance she would be able to see him； a moving darkness
upon the white。 She was near to the city now； and could hear voices
coming to her from behind its rugged walls； voices of men singing； and
calling one to another； the twang of plucked instruments； the click of
negroes' castanets。 The city was full of joy as the desert was full of
joy。 The glory of life rushed upon her like a flood of gold； that gold
of the sun in which thousands of tiny things are dancing。 And she was
given the power of giving life； of adding to the sum of glory。 She
looked out over the sands and saw a moving blot upon them coming
slowly towards her； very slowly。 It was impossible at this distance to
see who it was； but she felt that it was her husband。 For a moment she
thought of going down to meet him； but she did not move。 The new
knowledge that had come to her made her； just then； feel shy even of
him； as if he must come to her； as if she could make no advance
towards him。
As the blackness upon the sand drew nearer she saw that it was a man
walking heavily。 The man had her husband's gait。 When she saw that she
turned。 She had resolved to meet him at the tent door； to tell him
what she had to tell him at the threshold of their wandering home。 Her
sense of shyness died when she was at the tent door。 She only felt now
her oneness with her husband； and that to…night their unity was to be
made more perfect。 If it could be made quite perfect！ If he would
speak too！ Then nothing more would be wanting。 At last every veil
would have dropped from between them； and as they had long been one
flesh they would be one in spirit。
She waited in the tent door。
After what seemed a long time she saw Androvsky coming across the
moonlit sand。 He was walking very slowly； as if wearied out； with his
head drooping。 He did not appear to see her till he was quite close to
the tent。 Then he stopped and gazed at her。 The moonshe thought it
must be the moonmade his face look strange； like a dying man's face。
In this white face the eyes glittered feverishly。
〃Boris！〃 she said。
〃Domini！〃
〃Come here； close to me。 I have something to tell yousomething
wonderful。〃
He came quite up to her。
〃Domini；〃 he said； as if he had not heard her。 〃Domini； II've been
to the priest to…night。 I meant to confess to him。〃
〃To confess！〃 she said。
〃This afternoon I asked him to hear my confession； but tonight I could
not make it。 I can only make it to you； Dominionly to you。 Do you
hear； Domini？ Do you hear？〃
Something in his face and in his voice terrified her heart。 Now she
felt as if she would stop him from speaking if she dared； but that she
did not dare。 His spirit was beyond domination。 He would do what he
meant to do regardless of herof anyone。
〃What is it； Boris？〃 she whispered。 〃Tell me。 Perhaps I can understand
best because I love best。〃
He put his arms round her and kissed her； as a man kisses the woman he
loves when he knows it may be for the last time； long and hard； with a
desperation of love that feels frustrated by the very lips it is
touching。 At last he took his lips from hers。
〃Domini；〃 he said； and his voice was steady and clear； almost hard；
〃you want to know what it is that makes me unhappy even in our love
desperately unhappy。 It is this。 I believe in God； I love God； and I
have insulted Him。 I have tried to forget God； to deny Him； to put
human love higher than love for Him。 But always I am haunted by the
thought of God； and that thought makes me despair。 Once； when I was
young； I gave myself to God solemnly。 I have broken the vows I made。 I
haveI have〃
The hardness went out of his voice。 He broke down for a moment and was
silent。
〃You gave yourself to God；〃 she said。 〃How？〃
He tried to meet her questioning eyes； but could not。
〃II gave myself to God as a monk；〃 he answered after a pause。
As he spoke Domini saw before her in the moonlight De Trevignac。 He
cast a glance of horror at the tent； bent over her； made the sign of
the Cross； and vanished。 In his place stood Father Roubier； his eyes
shining； his hand upraised； warning her against Androvsky。 Then he；
too； vanished； and she seemed to see Count Anteoni dressed as an Arab
and muttering words of the Koran。
〃Domini！〃
〃Domini； did you hear me？ Domini！ Domini！〃
She felt his hands on her wrists。
〃You are the Trappist！〃 she said quietly； 〃of whom the priest told me。
You are the monk from the Monastery of El…Largani who disappeared
after twenty years。〃
〃Yes；〃 he said； 〃I am he。〃
〃What made you tell me？ What made you tell me？〃
There was agony now in her voice。
〃You asked me to speak； but it was not that。 Do you remember last
night when I said that God must bless you？ You answered； 'He has
blessed me。 He has given me you； your love； your truth。' It