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Updated: May 23, 2025
"As if I saw myself as I saw the grey sea and the islands on the way to Sidi-Zerzour. What magic there is here. And I can't get accustomed to it. Each day I wonder at it more and find it more inexplicable. It almost frightens me." "You could be frightened?" "Not easily by outside things it least I hope not." "But what then?" "I scarcely know.
She rode with him on three occasions, twice in the oasis through the brown villages, once out into the desert on the caravan road that Batouch had told her led at last to Tombouctou. They did not travel far along it, but Domini knew at once that this route held more fascination for her than the route to Sidi-Zerzour. There was far more sand in this region of the desert.
"I Monsieur, I am afraid that to me this music means very little. I cannot judge of it." "But the words?" asked the Count with a certain pressure. "They do not seem to me to suggest much more than the music." The Count said no more. As she went into the outer room Domini felt angry, as she had felt angry in the garden at Sidi-Zerzour when Androvsky said: "These native women do not interest me.
Wearied and stiffened as he had been by the expedition to Sidi-Zerzour, actually injured by his fall she knew from Batouch that he had been obliged to call in the Beni-Mora doctor to bandage his shoulder she had been roused at dawn on the day following by his tread on the verandah.
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."
Looking back she saw Androvsky still sitting on his horse in the midst of the clamouring mob. She went to the low doorway, but Mustapha barred her exit. "This is Sidi-Zerzour. Madame will eat in the garden. She is tired, fainting. She will eat and then she will see the great Mosque of Zerzour." "Sidi-Zerzour!" she exclaimed. "Monsieur Androvsky, do you know where we are?
That was my purpose in leading you to Beni-Mora, in leading you far out into the desert, in leading you into the heart of the desert." She had been led to Africa for a definite end, and now she knew what that end was. On the mosque of the minaret of Sidi-Zerzour she had surely seen prayer travelling, the soul of prayer travelling. And she had asked herself "Whither?"
Balls of purple and yellow glass, and crystal chandeliers, hung from the high ceiling above these doors, with many ancient lamps; and two tattered and dusty banners of pale pink and white silk, fringed with gold and powdered with a gold pattern of flowers, were tied to the pillars with thin cords of camel's hair. "This is the tomb of Sidi-Zerzour," whispered Mustapha. "It is opened once a year."
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