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And she knew that the vast landscape was God's garden, the Garden of Allah, and that no day, no night could ever pass without God walking in it. Hearing a knock upon the great gate of the garden Smain uncurled himself on his mat within the tent, rose lazily to his feet, and, without a rose, strolled languidly to open to the visitor. Domini stood without.
Nevertheless, she was already conscious that Smain with his rose was showing her the way to her ideal, that her feet were set upon its pathway, that its legendary trees were closing round her. Behind the evergreen hedge she heard the liquid bubbling of a hidden waterfall, and when they had left the untempered sunlight behind them this murmur grew louder.
His expression and his attitude were autocratic and determined, betokening a tyrannical nature, and Domini peeped at him with precaution, holding herself very still lest he should become aware of her presence and resent it. "Monsieur the Count paid much money for the dog," murmured Smain. "He is very valuable." "How long has he been there?" "For many years.
"Yes, Smain," she answered, "it is better here. But I can not stay here long." "You are going away?" "Yes, I am going away." She saw more quiet questions fluttering on his lips, and added: "And now I want to walk in the garden alone." He waved his hand towards the trees. "It is all for Madame. Monsieur the Count has always said so. But Monsieur?" "He is in Beni-Mora.
The hibiscus lifted languidly its frail and rosy cup, and the red gold oranges gleamed amid leaves that looked as if they had been polished by an attentive fairy. As she went with Smain farther into the recesses of the garden the voice of the waterfall died away. No birds were singing.
And as night drew on the music was surely more amorous, and I seemed to see Oreïda drawing near over the sands. Smaïn was but sixteen, tall and slim as a reed, with a poetic face and lustrous, languid eyes. I imagined Oreïda a child too one of those flowers of the desert that blossom early and fade ere noontide comes. Sometimes such flowers are very beautiful.
Consciously she helped to fulfil the prediction of the Diviner, and then she left Batouch free. Now outside the church, shrouded closely in hoods and haiks, grey and brown bundles with staring eyes, the desert men were huddled against the church wall in the wind. Hadj was there, and Smain, sheltering in his burnous roses from Count Anteoni's garden.
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