horse as if pursued。
Moved by a desire to do something to combat this strange despair； born
of the moonrise and the night； she sat erect in her saddle； and
resolutely looked at the desert； striving to get away from herself in
a hard contemplation of the details that surrounded her； the outward
things that were coming each moment into clearer view。 She gazed
steadily towards the palms that sharply cut the moonlight。 As she did
so something black moved away from them； as if it had been part of
them and now detached itself with the intention of approaching her
along the track。 At first it was merely a moving blot； formless and
small； but as it drew nearer she saw that it was a horseman riding
slowly； perhaps stealthily； across the sand。 She glanced behind her；
and saw Batouch not far off； and the fires of the nomads。 Then she
turned again to watch the horseman。 He came steadily forward。
〃Madame！〃
It was the voice of Batouch。
〃Stay where you are！〃 she called out to him。
She heard the soft sound of the horse's feet and could see the
attitude of its rider。 He was leaning forward as if searching the
night。 She rode to meet him； and they came to each other in the path
of the light she had thought tragic。
〃You followed me？〃
〃I cannot see you go out alone into the desert at night；〃 Androvsky
replied。
〃But you have no right to follow me。〃
〃I cannot let harm come to you； Madame。〃
She was silent。 A moment before she had been longing for a protector。
One had come to her； the man whom she had been setting with those
legendary figures who have saddened and appalled the imagination of
men。 She looked at the dark figure of Androvsky leaning forward on the
horse whose feet were set on the path of the moon； and she did not
know whether she felt confidence in him or fear of him。 All that the
priest had said rose up in her mind； all that Count Anteoni had hinted
and that had been visible in the face of the sand…diviner。 This man
had followed her into the night as a guardian。 Did she need someone；
something； to guard her from him？ A faint horror was still upon her。
Perhaps he knew it and resented it； for he drew himself upright on his
horse and spoke again； with a decision that was rare in him。
〃Let me send Batouch back to Beni…Mora； Madame。〃
〃Why？〃 she asked； in a low voice that was full of hesitation。
〃You do not need him now。〃
He was looking at her with a defiant； a challenging expression that
was his answer to her expression of vague distrust and apprehension。
〃How do you know that？〃
He did not answer the question； but only said：
〃It is better here without him。 May I send him away； Madame？〃
She bent her head。 Androvsky rode off and she saw him speaking to
Batouch； who shook his head as if in contradiction。
〃Batouch！〃 she called out。 〃You can ride back to Beni…Mora。 We shall
follow directly。〃
The poet cantered forward。
〃Madame； it is not safe。〃
The sound of his voice made Domini suddenly know what she had not been
sure of beforethat she wished to be alone with Androvsky。
〃Go； Batouch！〃 she said。 〃I tell you to go。〃
Batouch turned his horse without a word； and disappeared into the
darkness of the distant palms。
When they were alone together Domini and Androvsky sat silent on their
horses for some minutes。 Their faces were turned towards the desert；
which was now luminous beneath the moon。 Its loneliness was
overpowering in the night； and made speech at first an impossibility；
and even thought difficult。 At last Androvsky said：
〃Madame； why did you look at me like that just now； as if youas if
you hesitated to remain alone with me？〃
Suddenly she resolved to tell him of her oppression of the night。 She
felt as if to do so would relieve her of something that was like a
pain at her heart。
〃Has it never occurred to you that we are strangers to each other？〃
she said。 〃That we know nothing of each other's lives？ What do you
know of me or I of you？〃
He shifted in his saddle and moved the reins from one hand to the
other； but said nothing。
〃Would it seem strange to you if I did hesitateif even now〃
〃Yes；〃 he interrupted violently； 〃it would seem strange to me。〃
〃Why？〃
〃You would rely on an Arab and not rely upon me；〃 he said with intense
bitterness。
〃I did not say so。〃
〃Yet at first you wished to keep Batouch。〃
〃Yes。〃
〃Then〃
〃Batouch is my attendant。〃
〃And I？ Perhaps I am nothing but a man whom you distrust； whomwhom
others tell you to think ill of。〃
〃I judge for myself。〃
〃But if others speak ill of me？〃
〃It would not influence mefor long。〃
She added the last words after a pause。 She wished to be strictly
truthful； and to…night she was not sure that the words of the priest
had made no impression upon her。
〃For long！〃 he repeated。 Then he said abruptly； 〃The priest hates me。〃
〃No。〃
〃And Count Anteoni？〃
〃You interested Count Anteoni greatly。〃
〃Interested him！〃
His voice sounded intensely suspicious in the night。
〃Don't you wish to interest anyone？ It seems to me that to be
uninteresting is to live eternally alone in a sunless desert。〃
〃I wishI should like to think that I〃 He stopped； then said； with
a sort of ashamed determination： 〃Could I ever interest you； Madame？〃
〃Yes；〃 she answered quietly。
〃But you would rather be protected by an Arab than by me。 The priest
has〃
〃To…night I do not seem to be myself；〃 she said； interrupting him。
〃Perhaps there is some physical reason。 I got up very early； and
don't you ever feel oppressed； suspicious； doubtful of life； people；
yourself； everything； without apparent reason？ Don't you know what it
is to have nightmare without sleeping？〃
〃I！ But you are different。〃
〃To…night I have feltI do feel as if there were tragedy near me；
perhaps coming towards me；〃 she said simply； 〃and I am oppressed； I am
almost afraid。〃
When she had said it she felt happier； as if a burden she carried were
suddenly lighter。 As he did not speak she glanced at him。 The moon
rays lit up his face。 It looked ghastly； drawn and old； so changed
that she scarcely recognised it and felt； for a moment； as if she were
with a stranger。 She looked away quickly； wondering if what she had
seen was merely some strange effect of the moon； or whether Androvsky
was really altered for a moment by the action of some terrible grief；
one of those sudden sorrows that rush upon a man from the hidden
depths of his nature and tear his soul； till his whole being is
lacerated and he feels as if his soul were flesh and were streaming
with the blood from mortal wounds。 The silence between them was long。
In it she presently heard a reiterated noise that sounded like
struggle and pain made audible。 It was Androvsky's breathing。 In the
soft and exquisite air of the desert he was gasping like a man shut up
in a cellar。 She looked again towards him； startled。 As she did so he
turned his horse sideways and rode away a few paces。 Then he pulled up
his horse。 He was now merely a black shape upon the moonlight；
motionless and inaudible。 She could not take her eyes from this shape。
Its blackness suggested to her the blackness of a gulf。 Her memory
still heard that sound of deep…drawn breathing or gasping； heard it
and quivered beneath it as a tender…hearted person quivers seeing a
helpless creature being ill…used。 She hesitated for a moment； and
then； carried away by an irresistible impulse to try to soothe this
extremity of pain which she was unable to understand； she rode up to
Androvsky。 When she reached him she did not know what she had meant to
say or do。 She felt suddenly impotent and intrusive； and even horribly
shy。 But before she had time for speech or action he turned to her and
said； lifting up his hands with the reins in them and then dropping
them down heavily upon his horse's neck：
〃Madame； I wanted to tell you that to…morrow I〃 He stopped。
〃Yes？〃 she said。
He turned his head away from her till she could not see his face。
〃To…morrow I am leaving Beni…Mora。〃
〃To…morrow！〃 she said。
She did not feel the horse under her； the reins in her hand。 She did
not see the desert or the moon。 Though she was looking at Androvsky
she no longer perceived him。 At the sound of his words it seemed to
her as if all outside things she had ever known had foundered； like a
ship whose bottom is ripped up by a razor…edged rock； as if with them
had foundered； too； all things within herself： thoughts； feelings；
even the bodily powers that were of the essence of her life； sense of
taste； smell； hearing； sight； the capacity of movement and of
deliberate repose。 Nothing seemed to remain except the knowledge that
she was still alive and had spoken。
〃Yes； to…morrow I shall go away。〃
His face was still turned from her； and his voice sounded as if it
spoke to someone at a distance； someone who could hear as man cannot
hear。
〃To…morrow；〃 she repeated。
She knew she had spoken again； but it did not seem to her as if she
had heard herself speak。 She looked at her hands holding the reins；
knew that she looked at them； yet felt as if she were not seeing them
while she did so。 The moonlit desert was surely flickering round her；
an