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no longer self…conscious and timid； but eager； hardy； natural； warm
with the sun and damp with the trickling drops of the water。 The vivid
draperies touched him； and presently a little hand stole out to his
breast； caught at the silver chain that lay across it； and jerked out
of its hiding…placea wooden cross。
Domini saw the light on it for a second； heard a low； fierce
exclamation； saw Androvsky's arm push the pretty hand roughly away；
and then a thing that was strange。
He got up violently from his chair with the cross hanging loose on his
breast。 Then he seized hold of it； snapped the chain in two； threw the
cross passionately into the stream and walked away down the garden。
The four girls； with a twittering cry of excitement； rushed into the
water； heedless of draperies； bent down； knelt down； and began to feel
frantically in the mud for the vanished ornament。 Domini stood up and
watched them。 Androvsky did not come back。 Some minutes passed。 Then
there was an exclamation of triumph from the stream。 The girl in
magenta held up the dripping cross with the bit of silver chain in her
dripping fingers。 Domini cast a swift glance behind her。 Androvsky had
disappeared。 Quickly she went to the edge of the water。 As she was in
riding…dress she wore no ornaments except two earrings made of large
and beautiful turquoises。 She took them hastily out of her ears and
held them out to the girl； signifying by gestures that she bartered
them for the little cross and chain。 The girl hesitated； but the clear
blue tint of the turquoise pleased her eyes。 She yielded； snatched the
earrings with an eager； gave up the cross and chain with a reluctant；
hand。 Domini's fingers closed round the wet gold。 She threw some coins
across the stream on to the bank； and turned away； thrusting the cross
into her bosom。
And she felt at that moment as if she had saved a sacred thing from
outrage。
At the cabaret door she found Androvsky； once more surrounded by
Arabs； whom honest Mustapha was trying to beat off。 He turned when he
heard her。 His eyes were still full of a light that revealed an
intensity of mental agitation； and she saw his left hand； which hung
down； quivering against his side。 But he succeeded in schooling his
voice as he asked：
〃Do you wish to visit the village； Madame？〃
〃Yes。 But don't let me bother you if you would rather〃
〃I will come。 I wish to come。〃
She did not believe it。 She felt that he was in great pain； both of
body and mind。 His fall had hurt him。 She knew that by the way he
moved his right arm。 The unaccustomed exercise had made him stiff。
Probably the physical discomfort he was silently enduring had acted as
an irritant to the mind。 She remembered that it was caused by his
determination to be her companion； and the ice in her melted away。 She
longed to make him calmer； happier。 Secretly she touched the little
cross that lay under her habit。 He had thrown it away in a passion。
Well； some day perhaps she would have the pleasure of giving it back
to him。 Since he had worn it he must surely care for it； and even
perhaps for that which it recalled。
〃We ought to visit the mosque； I think；〃 she said。
〃Yes； Madame。〃
The assent sounded determined yet reluctant。 She knew this was all
against his will。 Mustapha took charge of them； and they set out down
the narrow street； accompanied by a little crowd。 They crossed the
glaring market…place； with its booths of red meat made black by flies；
its heaps of refuse； its rows of small and squalid hutches； in which
sat serious men surrounded by their goods。 The noise here was
terrific。 Everyone seemed shouting； and the uproar of the various
trades； the clamour of hammers on sheets of iron； the dry tap of the
shoemaker's wooden wand on the soles of countless slippers； the thud
of the coffee…beater's blunt club on the beans； and the groaning grunt
with which he accompanied each downward stroke mingled with the
incessant roar of camels； and seemed to be made more deafening and
intolerable by the fierce heat of the sun； and by the innumerable
smells which seethed forth upon the air。 Domini felt her nerves set on
edge； and was thankful when they came once more into the narrow alleys
that ran everywhere between the brown； blind houses。 In them there was
shade and silence and mystery。 Mustapha strode before to show the way；
Domini and Androvsky followed； and behind glided the little mob of
barefoot inquisitors in long shirts； speechless and intent； and always
hopeful of some chance scattering of money by the wealthy travellers。
The tumult of the market…place at length died away； and Domini was
conscious of a curious； far…off murmur。 At first it was so faint that
she was scarcely aware of it； and merely felt the soothing influence
of its level monotony。 But as they walked on it grew deeper； stronger。
It was like the sound of countless multitudes of bees buzzing in the
noon among flowers； drowsily； ceaselessly。 She stopped under a low mud
arch to listen。 And when she listened； standing still； a feeling of
awe came upon her； and she knew that she had never heard such a
strangely impressive； strangely suggestive sound before。
〃What is that？〃 she said。
She looked at Androvsky。
〃I don't know； Madame。 It must be people。〃
〃But what can they be doing？〃
〃They are praying in the mosque where Sidi…Zerzour is buried；〃 said
Mustapha。
Domini remembered the perfume…seller。 This was the sound she had beard
in his sunken chamber； infinitely multiplied。 They went on again
slowly。 Mustapha had lost something of his flaring manner； and his
gait was subdued。 He walked with a sort of soft caution； like a man
approaching holy ground。 And Domini was moved by his sudden reverence。
It was impressive in such a fierce and greedy scoundrel。 The level
murmur deepened； strengthened。 All the empty and dim alleys
surrounding the unseen mosque were alive with it； as if the earth of
the houses； the palm…wood beams； the iron bars of the tiny； shuttered
windows； the very thorns of the brushwood roofs were praying
ceaselessly and intently in secret under voices。 This was a world
intense with prayer as a flame is intense with heat； with prayer
penetrating and compelling； urgent in its persistence； powerful in its
deep and sultry concentration； yet almost oppressive； almost terrible
in its monotony。
〃Allah…Akbar！ Allah…Akbar！〃 It was the murmur of the desert and the
murmur of the sun。 It was the whisper of the mirage； and of the airs
that stole among the palm leaves。 It was the perpetual heart…beat of
this world that was engulfing her； taking her to its warm and glowing
bosom with soft and tyrannical intention。
〃Allah！ Allah！ Allah！〃 Surely God must be very near； bending to such
an everlasting cry。 Never before； not even when the bell sounded and
the Host was raised； had Domini felt the nearness of God to His world；
the absolute certainty of a Creator listening to His creatures；
watching them； wanting them； meaning them some day to be one with Him；
as she felt it now while she threaded the dingy alleys towards these
countless men who prayed。
Androvsky was walking slowly as if in pain。
〃Your shoulder isn't hurting you？〃 she whispered。
This long sound of prayer moved her to the soul； made her feel very
full of compassion for everybody and everything； and as if prayer were
a cord binding the world together。 He shook his head silently。 She
looked at him； and felt that he was moved also； but whether as she was
she could not tell。 His face was like that of a man stricken with awe。
Mustapha turned round to them。 The everlasting murmur was now so near
that it seemed to be within them； as if they； too； prayed at the tomb
of Zerzour。
〃Follow me into the court； Madame；〃 Mustapha said； 〃and remain at the
door while I fetch the slippers。〃
They turned a corner； and came to an open space before an archway；
which led into the first of the courts surrounding the mosque。 Under
the archway Arabs were sitting silently； as if immersed in profound
reveries。 They did not move； but stared upon the strangers； and Domini
fancied that there was enmity in their eyes。 Beyond them； upon an
uneven pavement surrounded with lofty walls； more Arabs were gathered；
kneeling； bowing their heads to the ground； and muttering ceaseless
words in deep； almost growling； voices。 Their fingers slipped over the
beads of the chaplets they wore round their necks； and Domini thought
of her rosary。 Some prayed alone； removed in shady corners； with faces
turned to the wall。 Others were gathered into knots。 But each one
pursued his own devotions； immersed in a strange； interior solitude to
which surely penetrated an unseen ray of sacred light。 There were
young boys praying； and old； wrinkled men； eagles of the desert； with
fierce eyes that did not soften as they cried the greatness of Allah；
the greatness of his Prophet； but gleamed as if their belief were a
thing of flame and bronze。 The boys sometimes glanced at each other
while they prayed； and after each glance they swayed with greater
violence； and bowed down with more passionate abasement。 The vision of
prayer had stirred them to a young longing for excess。 The sp