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Updated: May 5, 2025
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.
And then, during all my earlier years at the monastery, we had an Abbe who was quick to understand the characters and dispositions of men Dom Andre Herceline. He knew me far better than I knew myself. He knew, what I did not suspect, that I was full of sleeping violence, that in my purity and devotion or beneath it rather there was a strong strain of barbarism.
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.
And while I thought it was the whole I was happy. If Dom Andre Herceline had not died, today I should be a monk at El-Largani, ignorant of what I know, contented. "He never allowed me to come into any sort of contact with the many strangers who visited the monastery. Different monks have different duties.
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