United States or Saint Lucia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Perhaps she would have gone into the oasis, or along the path that skirted the river bed, had not Smain softly opened the gate and come out to meet her, holding a great velvety rose in his slim hand.
He has been living on me for years, the old ruffian, ever since his right eye was gouged out by his rival in the affections of the Marechale of the dancing-girls. Smain!" He blew his silver whistle. Instantly Smain came out of the villa carrying a money-bag. The Count took it and weighed it in his hand, looking at Domini with the joyous expression still upon his face.
Smain was standing dreamily on the great sweep of sand before the villa. She and he were old friends now, and every day he calmly gave her a flower when she came into the garden. "What time is it, Smain?" "Nearly half-past twelve, Madame." "Will you open the door and see if anyone is coming?" He went towards the great door, and Domini sat down on a bench under the evergreen roof to wait.
She did not argue with herself about the matter. She only knew that she wished, that presently she meant Androvsky to pass through the white gate and be met on the sand by Smain with his rose. One day Count Anteoni had asked her whether she had made acquaintance with the man who had fled from prayer. "Yes," she said. "You know it." "How?" "We have ridden to Sidi-Zerzour."
Domini said, watching the forming of the pretty curves with interest. "Oh, yes; I am more than half African, though my father was a Sicilian and my mother a Roman." He gave her the card, took off his hat and bowed. When the tall white door was softly shut by Smain, Domini felt rather like a new Eve expelled from Paradise, without an Adam as a companion in exile. "Well, Madame?" said Batouch.
"Thank you, Monsieur," she answered. "I was told at the gate you gave permission to travellers to visit your garden." "Certainly." He spoke a few words in fluent Arabic to Smain, who turned away and disappeared among the trees. "I hope you will allow me to accompany you through the rest of the garden," he said, turning again to Domini. "It will give me great pleasure." "It is very kind of you."
The garden was invaded by a shrieking mob. Smain ran forward, and the autocrat that dwelt in the Count side by side with the benefactor suddenly emerged. He blew his whistle four times. At each call a stalwart Arab appeared. "Shut the gate!" he commanded sternly. The attendants furiously repulsed the mob, using their fists and feet without mercy.
He had surely given her into the guardianship of the sun. The door of the garden stood wide open, and, as she entered, she saw three magnificent horses prancing upon the sweep of sand in the midst of a little group of Arabs. Smain greeted her with graceful warmth and begged her to follow him to the fumoir, where the Count was waiting for her.
There was the click of wood striking against wood as Smain closed the gate. Androvsky turned quickly and looked behind him. His demeanour was that of a man whose nerves were tormenting him. Domini began to dread telling him of the presence of the priest, and, characteristically, did without hesitation what she feared to do. "This is the way," she said.
As I heard the flute of Smaïn in the pale yellow twilight I knew that Oreïda was beautiful with one of those exquisite, lithe figures, whose movements make a song; with long, narrow dark eyes, mysterious pools of light and shadow; with thick hair falling loosely round a low, broad forehead; and perfect little hands, made for the dance of the hands that the Bedouin loves so well.
Word Of The Day