The Works of Guy de Maupassant, Volume 4. Guy de Maupassant
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what she could be doing during all these long hours of absence, but he replied very calmly:
"'Do not be uneasy. It will be the Feast of Ramadan soon, and so she goes to say her prayers.'
"He also seemed delighted at having Allouma in the house, but I never once saw anything suspicious between them, and so I accepted the situation as it was, and let time, accident, and life act for themselves.
"Often, after I had inspected my farm, my vineyards, and my clearings, I used to take long walks. You know the magnificent forests in this part of Algeria, those almost impenetrable ravines, where fallen pine trees hem the mountain torrents, and those little valleys filled with oleanders, which look like oriental carpets stretching along the banks of the streams. You know that at every moment, in these woods and on these hills, where one would think that nobody had ever penetrated, one suddenly sees the white dome of a shrine that contains the bones of a humble, solitary marabout, which was scarcely visited from time to time, even by the most confirmed believers, who had come from the neighboring villages with a wax candle in their pocket, to set up before the tomb of the saint.
"Now one evening as I was going home, I was passing one of these Mohammedan chapels, and, looking in through the door, which was always open, I saw a woman praying before the altar. That Arab woman, sitting on the ground in that dilapidated building, into which the wind entered as it pleased, and heaped up the fine, dry pine needles in yellow heaps in the corners. I went near to see better, and recognized Allouma. She neither saw nor heard me, so absorbed was she with the saint, to whom she was speaking in a low voice, as she thought that she was alone with him, and telling this servant of God all her troubles. Sometimes she stopped for a short time to think, to try and recollect what more she had to say, so that she might not forget anything that she wished to confide to him; then, again, she would grow animated, as if he had replied to her, as if he had advised her to do something that she did not want to do, and the reasons for which she was impugning, and I went away as I had come, without making any noise, and returned home to dinner.
"That evening, when I sent for her, I saw that she had a thoughtful look, which was not usual with her.
"'Sit down there,' I said, pointing to her place on the couch by my side. As soon as she had sat down, I stooped to kiss her, but she drew her head away quickly, and, in great astonishment, I said to her:
"'Well, what is the matter?'
"'It is the Ramadan,' she said.
"I began to laugh, and said: 'And the Marabout has forbidden you to allow yourself to be kissed during the Ramadan?'
"Oh, yes; I am an Arab woman, and you are a Roumi!'
"'And it would be a great sin?'
"'Oh, yes!'
"'So you ate nothing all day, until sunset?'
"'No, nothing.'
"'But you had something to eat after sundown?'
"'Yes.'
"'Well, then, as it is quite dark now, you ought not to be more strict about the rest than you are about your mouth.'
"She seemed irritated, wounded, and offended, and replied with an amount of pride that I had never noticed in her before: —
"'If an Arab girl were to allow herself to be touched by a Roumi during the Ramadan, she would be cursed for ever.'
"'And that is to continue for a whole month?'
"'Yes, for the whole of the month of Ramadan,' she replied, with great determination.
"I assumed an irritated manner and said: – 'Very well, then, you can go and spend the Ramadan with your family.'
"She seized my hands, and, laying them on my heart, she said: —
"'Oh! Please do not be unkind, and you shall see how nice I will be. We will keep Ramadan together, if you like. I will look after you, and spoil you, but don't be unkind.'
"I could not help smiling at her funny manner and her unhappiness, and I sent her to go to sleep at home, but, an hour later, just as I was thinking about going to bed, there came two little taps at my door, which were so slight, however, that I scarcely heard them; but when I said: – 'Come in,' Allouma appeared carrying a large tray covered with Arab dainties; fried balls of rice, covered with sugar, and a variety of other strange, Nomad pastry.
"She laughed, showing her white teeth, and repeated: – 'Come, we will keep Ramadan together.'
"You know that the fast, which begins at dawn and ends at twilight, at the moment when the eye can no longer distinguish a black from a white thread, is followed every evening by small, friendly entertainments, at which eating is kept up until the morning, and the result is that for such of the natives as are not very scrupulous, Ramadan consists of turning day into night, and night into day. But Allouma carried her delicacy of conscience further than this. She placed her tray between us on the divan, and taking a small, sugared ball between her long, slender fingers, she put it into my mouth, and whispered: – 'Eat it, it is very good.'
"I munched the light cake, which was really excellent, and asked her: – 'Did you make that?'
"'Yes.'
"'For me?'
"'Yes, for you.'
"'To enable me to support Ramadan?'
"'Oh! Don't be so unkind! I will bring you some every day.'
"Oh! the terrible month that I spent! A sugared, insipidly sweet month; a month that nearly drove me mad; a month of spoiling and of temptation, of anger and of vain efforts against an invincible resistance, but at last the three days of Beiram came, which I celebrated in my own fashion, and Ramadan was forgotten.
"The summer went on, and it was very hot, and in the first days of autumn, Allouma appeared to me to be pre-occupied and absent-minded, and, seemingly, taking no interest in anything, and, at last, when I sent for her one evening, she was not to be found in her room. I thought that she was roaming about the house, and I gave orders to look for her. She had not come in, however, and so I opened my window, and called out: —
"'Mohammed,' and the voice of the man, who was lying in his tent, replied: —
"'Yes, mo'ssieuia.'
"'Do you know where Allouma is?'
"'No, mo'ssieuia … it is not possible … is Allouma lost?'
"A few moments later, my Arab came into my room, so agitated that he could not master his feelings, and I said:
"'Is Allouma lost?'
"'Yes, she is lost.'
"'It is impossible.'
"'Go and look for her,' I said.
"He remained standing where he was, thinking, seeking for her motives, and unable to understand anything about it. Then he went into the empty room, where Allouma's clothes were lying about, in oriental disorder. He examined everything, as if he had been a police officer, or, rather, he smelt like a dog, and then, incapable of a lengthened effort, he murmured, resignedly: —
"'She has gone, she has gone!'
"I was afraid that some accident had happened to her; that she had fallen into some ravine and sprained herself, and I immediately sent all the men about the place off with orders to look for her until they should find her, and they hunted for her all that night, all the next day, and all the week long, but nothing was discovered that could put us upon her track. I suffered, for I missed her very much; my house seemed empty, and my existence a void. And then, disgusting thoughts entered my mind. I feared that she might have been carried off, or even murdered, but when I spoke about it to Mohammed, and tried to make him share my fears, he invariably replied:
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