The range of mountains
showed their rosy flanks in the distance. They, too, on the morrow would
be lost in the desert spaces, the last outposts of the world of hill
and valley, of stream and sea. Only in the deceptive dream of the mirage
would they appear once more, looming in a pearl-coloured shaking veil
like a fluid on the edge of some visionary lagune.
Domini was glad that on this first night of their journey they could
still see Beni-Mora, the place where they had found each other and been
given to each other by the Church. As the camel stopped before the great
doorway of the Bordj she turned in the palanquin and looked down upon
the desert, motioning to the camel-driver to leave the beast for a
moment. She put her arm through Androvsky's and made his eyes follow
hers across the vast spaces made magical by the sinking sun to that
darkness of distant palms which, to her, would be a sacred place for
ever. And as they looked in silence all that Beni-Mora meant to her came
upon her. She saw again the garden hushed in the heat of noon. She saw
Androvsky at her feet on the sand. She heard the chiming church bell and
the twitter of Larbi's flute.
Pages:
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580