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the bonds of silence when he chooses； and to allow monks to walk and
speak with each other beyond the white walls that hem in the garden of
the monastery。 Now and then we spoke； but I think most of us were not
unhappy in our silence。 It became a habit。 And then we were always
occupied。 We had no time allowed us for sitting and being sad。 Domini；
I don't want to tell you about the Trappists； their lifeonly about
myself； why I was as I was； how I came to change。 For years I was not
unhappy at El…Largani。 When my time of novitiate was over I took the
eternal vows without hesitation。 Many novices go out again into the
world。 It never occurred to me to do so。 I scarcely ever felt a
stirring of worldly desire。 I scarcely ever had one of those agonising
struggles which many people probably attribute to monks。 I was
contented nearly always。 Now and then the flesh spoke； but not
strongly。 Remember； our life was a life of hard and exhausting labour
in the fields。 The labour kept the flesh in subjection； as the prayer
lifted up the spirit。 And then； during all my earlier years at the
monastery； we had an Abbe who was quick to understand the characters
and dispositions of menDom 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 devotionor beneath it
ratherthere was a strong strain of barbarism。 The Russian was
sleeping in the monk； but sleeping soundly。 That can be。 Half a man's
nature； if all that would call to it is carefully kept from it； may
sleep； I believe； through all his life。 He might die and never have
known； or been； what all the time he was。 For years it was so with me。
I knew only part of myself； a real vivid partbut only a part。 I
thought it was the whole。 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。 Certain duties bring monks into connection with the travellers
whom curiosity sends to El…Largani。 The monk whose business it is to
look after the cemetery on the hill； where the dead Trappists are laid
to rest； shows visitors round the little chapel； and may talk with
them freely so long as they remain in the cemetery。 The monk in charge
of the distillery also receives visitors and converses with them。 So
does the monk in charge of the parlour at the great door of the
monastery。 He sells the souvenirs of the Trappists； photographs of the
church and buildings； statues of saints； bottles of perfumes made by
the monks。 He takes the orders for the wines made at the monastery；
and forfor thewhat I made； Domini； when I was there。〃
She thought of De Trevignac and the fragments of glass lying upon the
ground in the tent at Mogar。
〃Had De Trevignac〃 she said in a low； inward voice。
〃He had seen me； spoken with me at the monastery。 When Ouardi brought
in the liqueur he remembered who I was。〃
She understood De Trevignac's glance towards the tent where Androvsky
lay sleeping； and a slight shiver ran through her。 Androvsky saw it
and looked down。
〃But thethe〃
He cleared his throat； turned； looked out across the white sand as if
he longed to travel away into it and be lost for ever； then went on；
speaking quickly：
〃But the monk who has most to do with travellers is the monk who is in
charge of the /hotellerie/ of the monastery。 He is the host to all
visitors； to those who come over for the day and have /dejeuner/； and
to any who remain for the night； or for a longer time。 For when I was
at El…Largani it was permitted for people to stay in the /hotellerie/；
on payment of a small weekly sum； for as long as they pleased。 The
monk of the /hotellerie/ is perpetually brought into contact with the
outside world。 He talks with all sorts and conditions of menwomen；
of course； are not admitted。 The other monks； many of them； probably
envy him。 I never did。 I had no wish to see strangers。 When； by
chance； I met them in the yard； the outbuildings； or the grounds of
the monastery； I seldom even raised my eyes to look at them。 They were
not； would never be； in my life。 Why should I look at them？ What were
they to me？ Years went onquickly they passednot slowly。 I did not
feel their monotony。 I never shrank from anything in the life。 My
health was splendid。 I never knew what it was to be ill for a day。 My
muscles were hard as iron。 The pallet on which I lay in my cubicle；
the heavy robe I wore day and night； the scanty vegetables I ate； the
bell that called me from my sleep in the darkness to go to the chapel；
the fastings； the watchings； the perpetual sameness of all I saw； all
I did； neither saddened nor fatigued me。 I never sighed for change。
Can you believe that； Domini？ It is true。 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。 So far as I was concerned；
although the monastery was but two hours' drive from the town； he
might almost have been dead too。 I scarcely ever saw him； and then
only by a special permission from the Reverend Pere； and for a few
moments。 Once I visited him at Tunis； when he was ill。 When my mother
died I seemed to sink down a little deeper into the monastic life。
That was all。 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。 He was a good man； but； I
think； apt to misunderstand men。 The Abbe of a Trappist monastery has
complete power over his community。 He can order what he will。 Soon
after he came to El…Larganifor some reason that I cannot divinehe
removed the Pere Michel； who had been for years in charge of the
cemetery； from his duties there； and informed me that I was to
undertake them。 I obeyed； of course； without a word。
〃The cemetery of El…Largani is on a low hill； the highest part of the
monastery grounds。 It is surrounded by a white wall and by a hedge of
cypress trees。 The road to it is an avenue of cypresses； among which
are interspersed niches containing carvings of the Fourteen Stations
of the Cross。 At the entrance to this avenue； on the left； there is a
high yellow pedestal； surmounted by a black cross； on which hangs a
silver Christ。 Underneath is written：
〃FACTUS OBEDIENS
〃USQUE
〃AD MORTEM
〃CRUCIS。
〃I remember； on the first day when I became the guardian of the
cemetery； stopping on my way to it before the Christ and praying。 My
prayermy prayer was； Domini； that I might die； as I had lived； in
innocence。 I prayed for that； but with a sort ofyes； now I think