(1913–1960)
CAMUS WAS born in Algiers, in a working-class family. He studied at the University of Algiers where he fell ill with tuberculosis when he was preparing his agrégation exams in philosophy. At the beginning of the war he was a journalist in Paris. He played an important role in the Resistance Movement, and after the Liberation became editor of the newspaper Combat where his editorials reached a large public. His two books of that period, a novel, L’Étranger, and an essay, Le Mythe de Sisyphe, gave him a place of such importance and influence that some believed he was succeeding to the position of Gide as the awakener of consciences. Some of his younger admirers did, in fact, regard Camus as their conscience—an irritable conscience making a valiant effort to understand the age and to prepare a renascence from the ruins.
Camus took as his point of departure a doctrine on the absurd in the world, l’absurdisme, and ultimately formulated what may well be a new form of humanism. If he remained pessimistic about human destiny, he demonstrated an optimism in man himself. To his descriptions of human suffering, Camus has added a revindication of a new world based upon purely human values. The hero of Camus has to learn how to live in the present, if he is to be freed from all belief in eternity.
The thought and the art of Albert Camus continued to grow, but his work published between 1937 and 1957—between the essays L’Envers et l’Endroit (1937) and the book of stories L’Exil et le Royaume (1957)—represents a unified period of development and the significant example of a writer’s vocation today. In 1957 he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature, and responded to this honor with the modesty of a man who was still seeking truth and still intent on helping to bring about the advent of justice in the world. The art of Camus was his conscience, the literary transcription of his conscience, and the exemplary attempt to build a new community, a new society for man.
L’Hôte is one of six stories in L’Exil et le Royaume. The scene of the story is laid on a high plateau of Algeria. An Arab has killed a man in a family quarrel, and he is brought to the schoolteacher who is to take him to prison in the next town. The story is constructed around a dramatic irony which forms the conclusion.
par Albert Camus
L’INSTITUTEUR REGARDAIT les deux hommes monter vers lui. L’un était à cheval, l’autre à pied. Ils n’avaient pas encore entamé le raidillon abrupt qui menait à l’école, bâtie au flanc d’une colline. Ils peinaient, progressant lentement dans la neige, entre les pierres, sur l’immense étendue du haut plateau désert. De temps en temps, le cheval bronchait visiblement. On ne l’entendait pas encore, mais on voyait le jet de vapeur qui sortait alors de ses naseaux. L’un des hommes, au moins, connaissait le pays. Ils suivaient la piste qui avait pourtant disparu depuis plusieurs jours sous une couche blanche et sale. L’instituteur calcula qu’ils ne seraient pas sur la colline avant une demi-heure. Il faisait froid; il rentra dans l’école pour chercher un chandail.
Il traversa la salle de classe, vide et glacée. Sur le tableau noir les quatre fleuves de France, dessinés avec quatre craies de couleurs différentes, coulaient vers leur estuaire depuis trois jours. La neige était tombée brutalement à la mioctobre, après huit mois de sécheresse, sans que la pluie eût apporté une transition et la vingtaine d’élèves qui habitaient dans les villages disséminés sur le plateau ne venaient plus. Il fallait attendre le beau temps. Daru ne chauffait plus que l’unique pièce qui constituait son logement, attenant à la classe, et ouvrant aussi sur le plateau à l’est. Une fenêtre donnait encore, comme celles de la classe, sur le midi. De
by Albert Camus
THE SCHOOLTEACHER watched the two men climb toward him. One was on horseback, and the other on foot. They had not yet tackled the steep ascent leading to the school which had been built on the side of a hill. Painfully they made slow progress in the snow, among the stones on the huge expanse of the high barren plateau. From time to time the horse could be seen stumbling. He couldn’t yet be heard, but the breath coming out from his nostrils was visible. At least one of the men knew the region. They were following the trail which, however, several days back, had disappeared under a dirty white layer of snow. The schoolteacher figured that it would take them half an hour to reach the top of the hill. It was cold. He went into the school to get a sweater.
He crossed the empty, freezing classroom. On the blackboard the four rivers of France, drawn with four different colored chalks, had been flowing for three days toward their estuaries. Snow had fallen heavily in mid-October, after eight months of drought, without the rain bringing a transition, and the twenty or so pupils who lived in the villages scattered over the plateau had stopped coming. They were waiting for good weather. Daru now heated only the one room which was his lodging, next to the classroom, and opening also onto the plateau to the east. Like the classroom windows, his window also opened to the south. On
ce côté, l’école se trouvait à quelques kilomètres de l’endroit où le plateau commençait à descendre vers le sud. Par temps clair, on pouvait apercevoir les masses violettes du contrefort montagneux où s’ouvrait la porte du désert.
Un peu réchauffé, Daru retourna à la fenêtre d’où il avait, pour la première fois, aperçu les deux hommes. On ne les voyait plus. Ils avaient donc attaqué le raidillon. Le ciel était moins foncé: dans la nuit, la neige avait cessé de tomber. Le matin s’était levé sur une lumière sale qui s’était à peine renforcée à mesure que le plafond de nuages remontait. A deux heures de l’après-midi, on eût dit que la journée commençait seulement. Mais cela valait mieux que ces trois jours où l’épaisse neige tombait au milieu des ténèbres incessantes, avec de petites sautes de vent qui venaient secouer la double porte de la classe. Daru patientait alors de longues heures dans sa chambre dont il ne sortait que pour aller sous l’appentis, soigner les poules et puiser dans la provision de charbon. Heureusement, la camionnette de Tadjid, le village le plus proche au nord, avait apporté le ravitaillement deux jours avant la tourmente. Elle reviendrait dans quarante-huit heures.
Il avait d’ailleurs de quoi soutenir un siège, avec les sacs de blé qui encombraient la petite chambre et que l’administration lui laissait en réserve pour distribuer à ceux de ses élèves dont les familles avaient été victimes de la sécheresse. En réalité, le malheur les avait tous atteints puisque tous étaient pauvres. Chaque jour, Daru distribuait une ration aux petits. Elle leur avait manqué, il le savait bien, pendant ces mauvais jours. Peut-être un des pères ou des grands frères viendrait ce soir et il pourrait les ravitailler en grains. Il fallait faire la soudure avec la prochaine récolte, voilà tout. Des navires de blé arrivaient maintenant de France, le plus dur était passé. Mais il serait difficile d’oublier cette misère, cette armée de fantômes haillonneux errant dans le soleil, les plateaux calcinés mois après mois, la terre recroquevillée peu à peu, littéralement torrifiée, chaque pierre éclatant en poussière sous le pied. Les moutons mouraient alors par milliers et quelques hommes, ça et là, sans qu’on puisse toujours le savoir.
that side, the school was a few kilometers from the place where the plateau began to slope toward the south. In clear weather there could be seen the purple mass of the mountain range where there was an opening to the desert.
A bit warmed, Daru returned to the window from which he had first seen the two men. They were no longer visible. They had therefore tackled the steep path. The sky was less dark. During the night, the snow had stopped falling. The morning had risen with a dirty light which scarcely turned brighter as the ceiling of clouds rose. At two in the afternoon, you would have said that the day was just beginning. But that was better than those three days when the thick snow fell in the midst of constant darkness, with little gusts of wind which rattled the double door of the classroom. Then Daru would spend long hours in his room which he left only to go to the shed to take care of the chickens and get a supply of coal. Fortunately the small truck from Tadjid, the nearest village to the north, had brought supplies two days before the blizzard. It would return in forty-eight hours.
Moreover he had enough to resist a siege, with the bags of wheat which cluttered up the small room and which the administration had left him as reserves to distribute to those of his pupils whose families had been victims of the drought. Actually, disaster had overcome them all since they were all poor. Each day, Daru distributed a ration to the small children. He knew they had missed it during the bad days. Perhaps one of the fathers or one of the big brothers would come this evening and he could supply them with grain. It was simply necessary to tide them over to the next harvest. Shiploads of wheat were now coming from France and the worst was over. But it would be difficult to forget the misery, the army of ragged phantoms wandering in the sunlight, the plateaus burned by the sun month after month, the earth gradually shriveling up, literally scorched, every stone bursting into dust under foot. The sheep died then by the thousands and a few men here and there, without it always being known.
Devant cette misère, lui qui vivait presque en moine dans son école perdue, content d’ailleurs du peu qu’il avait, et de cette vie rude, s’était senti un seigneur, avec ses murs crépis, son divan étroit, ses étagères de bois blanc, son puits, et son ravitaillement hebdomadaire en eau et en nourriture. Et, tout d’un coup, cette neige, sans avertissement, sans la détente de la pluie. Le pays était ainsi, cruel à vivre, même sans les hommes, qui, pourtant, n’arrangeaient rien. Mais Daru y était né. Partout ailleurs, il se sentait exilé.
Il sortait et avança sur le terre-plein devant l’école. Les deux hommes étaient maintenant à mi-pente. Il reconnut dans le cavalier, Balducci, le vieux gendarme qu’il connaissait depuis longtemps. Balducci tenait au bout d’une corde un Arabe qui avançait derrière lui, les mains liées, le front baissé. Le gendarme fit un geste de salutation auquel Daru ne répondit pas, tout entier occupé à regarder l’Arabe vêtu d’une djellabah1 autrefois bleue, les pieds dans des sandales, mais couverts de chaussettes en grosse laine grège, la tête coiffée d’un chèche2 étroit et court. Ils approchaient. Balducci maintenait sa bête au pas pour ne pas blesser l’Arabe et le groupe avançait lentement.
A portée de voix, Balducci cria: “Une heure pour faire les trois kilomètres d’El Ameur ici!” Daru ne répondit pas. Court et carré dans son chandail épais, il les regardait monter. Pas une seule fois, l’Arabe n’avait levé la tête. “Salut, dit Daru, quand ils débouchèrent sur le terre-plein. Entrez vous réchauffer.” Balducci descendit péniblement de sa bête, sans lâcher la corde. Il sourit à l’instituteur sous ses moustaches hérissées. Ses petits yeux sombres, très enfoncés sous le front basané, et sa bouche entourée de rides, lui donnaient un air attentif et appliqué. Daru prit la bride, conduisit la bête vers l’appentis, et revint vers les deux hommes qui l’attendaient maintenant dans l’école. Il les fit pénétrer dans sa chambre. “Je vais chauffer la salle de classe, dit-il. Nous y serons plus à l’aise.” Quand il entra de nouveau dans la chambre, Balducci était sur le divan. Il avait dénoué la corde qui le liait à l’Arabe et celui-ci s’était accroupi près du poêle. Les mains toujours liées, le chèche
By comparison with this misery, this man who lived almost like a monk in his remote school, but satisfied with the little he had, and with this simple life, felt like a lord, with his rough-cast walls, his narrow couch, his shelves of white wood, his well, and his weekly provision of water and food. And then suddenly, this snow, without warning, without the relief of rain. This characterized the region, cruel to live in, even without men who themselves did not help matters very much. But Daru had been born there. Everywhere else he felt in exile.
He went out and walked on the terrace in front of the school. The two men were now half-way up the slope. He recognized the horseman as Balducci, the old gendarme he had known for a long time. At the end of a rope Balducci was holding an Arab who walked behind him, his hands tied and his head bowed. The gendarme waved a greeting to which Daru did not answer, since he was lost in looking at the Arab dressed in a faded blue jellaba, his feet in sandals, but covered with socks of heavy raw wool, his head covered with a narrow short chèche. They approached. Balducci kept his animal walking in order not to hurt the Arab and the group advanced slowly.
Within hearing, Balducci shouted, “One hour to do the three kilometers from El Ameur to here!” Daru did not reply. Short and square in his thick sweater, he watched them climb. Not once did the Arab raise his head. “Hello,” said Daru, when they came up onto the terrace. “Come in and get warm.” Painfully Balducci got down from his horse, without letting go of the rope. Under his bristling mustache he smiled at the schoolteacher. His small dark eyes, very deep set under his tanned forehead, and his mouth surrounded with wrinkles made him look attentive and serious. Daru took the bridle, led the animal to the shed, and returned to the two men who were now waiting for him in the school. He had them go into his room. “I am going to heat up the classroom,” he said. “We will be more comfortable there.” When he came back into the room again, Balducci was on the couch. He had undone the rope which tied him to the Arab and the fellow had
maintenant poussé en arrière, il regardait vers la fenêtre. Daru ne vit d’abord que ses énormes lèvres, pleines, lisses, presque négroïdes; le nez cependant était droit, les yeux sombres, pleins de fièvre. Le chèche découvrait un front buté et, sous la peau recuite mais un peu décolorée par le froid, tout le visage avait un air à la fois inquiet et rebelle qui frappa Daru quand l’Arabe, tournant son visage vers lui, le regarda droit dans les yeux. “Passez à côté, dit l’instituteur, je vais vous faire du thé à la menthe.—Merci, dit Balducci. Quelle corvée! Vivement la retraite.” Et s’adressant en arabe à son prisonnier: “Viens, toi.” L’Arabe se leva et, lentement, tenant ses poignets joints devant lui, passa dans l’école.
Avec le thé, Daru apporta une chaise. Mais Balducci trônait déjà sur la première table d’élève et l’Arabe s’était accroupi contre l’estrade du maître, face au poêle qui se trouvait entre le bureau et la fenêtre. Quand il tendit le verre de thé au prisonnier, Daru hésita devant ses mains liées. “On peut le délier, peut-être.—Sûr, dit Balducci. C’était pour le voyage.” Il fit mine de se lever. Mais Daru, posant le verre sur le sol, s’était agenouillé près de l’Arabe. Celui-ci, sans rien dire, le regardait faire de ses yeux fiévreux. Les mains libres, il frotta l’un contre l’autre ses poignets gonflés, prit le verre de thé et aspira le liquide brûlant, à petites gorgées rapides.
“Bon, dit Daru. Et comme ça, où allez-vous?”
Balducci retira sa moustache du thé: “Ici, fils.
— Drôle d’élèves! Vous couchez ici?
— Non. Je vais retourner à El Ameur. Et toi, tu livreras le camarade à Tinguit. On l’attend à la commune mixte.”3
Balducci regardait Daru avec un petit sourire d’amitié. “Qu’est-ce que tu racontes, dit l’instituteur. Tu te fous de moi?
— Non, fils. Ce sont les ordres.
squatted near the stove. His hands still bound, the chèche now pushed back, he was looking in the direction of the window. Daru at first saw only his huge lips, fat, smooth, and almost negroid. Yet his nose was straight, his eyes dark and feverish. The chèche revealed a stubborn brow and, under the skin tanned but somewhat discolored by the cold, the entire face had both a worried and rebellious expression which struck Daru when the Arab, turning his face toward him, looked him straight in the eyes. “Go into the next room,” said the schoolteacher, “and I’ll make you some mint tea.” “Thanks,” said Balducci. “What a job! I hope I can retire soon.” And speaking to his prisoner in Arabic: “Come.” The Arab got up and, holding his bound wrists in front of him, slowly went into the schoolroom.
With the tea, Daru brought a chair. But Balducci was already enthroned on the first pupil’s desk, and the Arab had squatted against the teacher’s platform, facing the stove which was between the desk and the window. When he held out the glass of tea to the prisoner, Daru hesitated when he saw his bound hands. “We can perhaps untie him.” “Of course,” said Balducci. “It was for the trip.” He started to get up. But Daru, placing the glass on the floor, had knelt close to the Arab. The fellow, without saying anything, watched him with his feverish eyes. When his hands were free, he rubbed one swollen wrist against the other, took the glass of tea and drank the burning liquid in small fast sips.
“Good,” said Daru. “And where are you going now?”
Balducci withdrew his mustache from the tea. “Here, son.”
“Queer pupils! Are you spending the night here?”
“No. I am going back to El Ameur. And you will hand over this fellow at Tinguit. They’re expecting him at the mixed commune.”
Balducci looked at Daru with a friendly smile.
“What sort of a story is this?” said the teacher. “Are you pulling a joke?”
“No, son. These are the orders.”
— Les ordres? Je ne suis pas . . .” Daru hésita; il ne voulait pas peiner le vieux Corse. “Enfin, ce n’est pas mon métier.
— Eh! Qu’est-ce que ça veut dire? A la guerre, on fait tous les métiers.
— Alors, j’attendrai la déclaration de guerre!”
Balducci approuva de la tête.
“Bon. Mais les ordres sont là et ils te concernent aussi. Ça bouge, paraît-il. On parle de révolte prochaine. Nous sommes mobilisés, dans un sens.”
Daru gardait son air buté.
“Écoute, fils, dit Balducci. Je t’aime bien, il faut comprendre. Nous sommes une douzaine à El Ameur pour patrouiller dans le territoire d’un petit département4 et je dois rentrer. On m’a dit de te confier ce zèbre et de rentrer sans tarder. On ne pouvait pas le garder là-bas. Son village s’agitait, ils voulaient le reprendre. Tu dois le mener à Tinguit dans la journée de demain. Ce n’est pas une vingtaine de kilomètres qui font peur à un costaud comme toi. Après, ce sera fini. Tu retrouveras tes élèves et la bonne vie.”
Derrière le mur, on entendit le cheval s’ébrouer et frapper du sabot. Daru regardait par la fenêtre. Le temps se levait décidément, la lumière s’élargissait sur le plateau neigeux. Quand toute la neige serait fondue, le soleil régnerait de nouveau et brûlerait une fois de plus les champs de pierre. Pendant des jours, encore, le ciel inaltérable déverserait sa lumière sèche sur l’étendue solitaire où rien ne rappelait l’homme.
“Enfin, dit-il en se retournant vers Balducci, qu’est-ce qu’il a fait?” Et il demanda, avant que le gendarme ait ouvert la bouche: “Il parle français?
— Non, pas un mot. On le recherchait depuis un mois, mais ils le cachaient. Il a tué son cousin.
— Il est contre nous?
— Je ne crois pas. Mais on ne peut jamais savoir.
— Pourquoi a-t-il tué?
— Des affaires de famille, je crois. L’un devait du grain
“The orders? I’m not a . . .” Daru hesitated. He didn’t want to hurt the old Corsican. “Well, it’s not my work.”
“What? What you do mean by that? In war, you do every kind of job.”
“Then, I’ll wait for the declaration of war!”
Balducci nodded in approval.
“All right. But these are the orders and they concern you too. Things are starting up, they say. They speak of a revolt about to begin. In a certain sense, we’re mobilized.”
Daru kept his stubborn expression.
“Listen, son,” Balducci said. “I like you and you’ve got to understand. There are a dozen of us at El Ameur to patrol the territory of a small department and I have to get back. They told me to hand this character over to you and to get back right away. He couldn’t be kept guarded there. There was agitation in his village. They wanted to take him back. You are to take him to Tinguit tomorrow during the day time. Twenty kilometers won’t upset a strong man like you. After that, it will be over. You will come back to your pupils and the good life.”
Behind the wall, they heard the horse snorting and pawing the ground. Daru looked out the window. The weather was certainly clearing and the light was spreading out over the snowy plateau. When all the snow was melted, the sun would dominate again and would burn the fields of stone once more. For days ahead the unchanging sky would pour down its dry light over the solitary expanse where there was no trace of man.
“But tell me,” he said as he turned to Balducci, “what did he do?” And before the gendarme opened his mouth, he asked, “Does he speak French?”
“No, not a word. We had been looking for him for a month, but they were hiding him. He killed his cousin.”
“Is he against us?”
“I don’t think so. But you can never know.”
“Why did he kill?”
“A family fight, I think. It seems that one owed grain
à l’autre, paraît-il. Ça n’est pas clair. Enfin, bref, il a tué le cousin d’un coup de serpe. Tu sais, comme au mouton, zic! . . .”
Balducci fit le geste de passer une lame sur sa gorge et l’Arabe, son attention attirée, le regardait avec une sorte d’inquiétude. Une colère subite vint à Daru contre cet homme, contre tous les hommes et leur sale méchanceté, leurs haines inlassables, leur folie du sang.
Mais la bouilloire chantait sur le poêle. Il resservit du thé à Balducci, hésita, puis servit à nouveau l’Arabe qui, une seconde fois, but avec avidité. Ses bras soulevés entrebâillaient maintenant la djellabah et l’instituteur aperçut sa poitrine maigre et musclée.
“Merci, petit, dit Balducci. Et maintenant, je file.”
Il se leva et se dirigea vers l’Arabe, en tirant une cordelette de sa poche.
“Qu’est-ce que tu fais?” demanda sèchement Daru.
Balducci, interdit, lui montra la corde.
“Ce n’est pas la peine.”
Le vieux gendarme hésita:
“Comme tu voudras. Naturellement, tu es armé?
— J’ai mon fusil de chasse.
— Où?
— Dans la malle.
— Tu devrais l’avoir près de ton lit.
— Pourquoi? Je n’ai rien à craindre.
— Tu es sonné, fils. S’ils se soulèvent, personne n’est à l’abri, nous sommes tous dans le même sac.
— Je me défendrai. J’ai le temps de les voir arriver.”
Balducci se mit à rire, puis la moustache vint soudain recouvrir les dents encore blanches.
“Tu as le temps? Bon. C’est ce que je disais. Tu as toujours été un peu fêlé. C’est pour ça que je t’aime bien, mon fils était comme ça.”
Il tirait en même temps son revolver et le posait sur le bureau.
“Garde-le, je n’ai pas besoin de deux armes d’ici El Ameur.”
Le revolver brillait sur la peinture noire de la table.
to another. It isn’t clear. To put it briefly, he killed the cousin with a billhook. You know, like a sheep, zic! . . .”
Balducci made the gesture of drawing a blade across his throat and the Arab, his attention attracted, looked at him anxiously. Suddenly Daru felt angry at this man, at all men with their filthy wickedness, their endless hate, their lust for blood.
But the kettle sang on the stove. He served Balducci more tea, hesitated and then served the Arab again who, for a second time, drank avidly. His raised arm now half opened his jellaba and the teacher saw his thin muscular chest.
“Thanks, my friend,” said Balducci. “And now, I’m off.”
He got up and as he went toward the Arab, he took a small rope out of his pocket.
“What are you doing?” Daru asked dryly.
Balducci, surprised, showed him the rope.
“Don’t bother with it.”
The old gendarme hesitated.
“As you wish. Naturally, you are armed, I suppose.”
“I have my shotgun.”
“Where?”
“In the trunk.”
“You ought to keep it close to your bed.”
“Why? I’ve nothing to fear.”
“You’re crazy, son. If there is a revolt, no one is safe. We are all in the same boat.”
“I’ll defend myself. I have time to see them coming.”
Balducci began to laugh. Then his mustache suddenly covered his white teeth.
“You have the time? Fine. That’s what I said. You have always been a little cracked. That’s why I like you. My son was like that.”
At the same time he pulled out his revolver and placed it on the desk.
“Keep it. I don’t need two weapons between here and El Ameur.”
The revolver shone against the black paint of the table.
Quand le gendarme se retourna vers lui, l’instituteur sentit son odeur de cuir et de cheval.
“Écoute, Balducci, dit Daru soudainement, tout ça me dégoûte, et ton gars le premier. Mais je ne le livrerai pas. Me battre, oui, s’il le faut. Mais pas ça.”
Le vieux gendarme se tenait devant lui et le regardait avec sévérité.
“Tu fais des bêtises, dit-il lentement. Moi non plus, je n’aime pas ça. Mettre une corde à un homme, malgré les années, on ne s’y habitue pas et même, oui, on a honte. Mais on ne peut pas les laisser faire.
— Je ne le livrerai pas, répéta Daru.
— C’est un ordre, fils. Je te le répète.
— C’est ça. Répète-leur ce que je t’ai dit: je ne le livrerai pas.”
Balducci faisait un visible effort de réflexion. Il regardait l’Arabe et Daru. Il se décida enfin.
“Non. Je ne leur dirai rien. Si tu veux nous lâcher, à ton aise, je ne te dénoncerai pas. J’ai l’ordre de livrer le prisonnier; je le fais. Tu vas maintenant me signer le papier.
— C’est inutile. Je ne nierai pas que tu me l’as laissé.
— Ne sois pas méchant avec moi. Je sais que tu diras la vérité. Tu es d’ici, tu es un homme. Mais tu dois signer, c’est la règle.”
Daru ouvrit son tiroir, tira une petite bouteille carrée d’encre violette, le porte-plume de bois rouge avec la plume sergent-major qui lui servait à tracer les modèles d’écriture et il signa. Le gendarme plia soigneusement le papier et le mit dans son portefeuille. Puis il se dirigea vers la porte.
“Je vais t’accompagner, dit Daru.
— Non, dit Balducci. Ce n’est pas la peine d’être poli. Tu m’as fait un affront.”
Il regarda l’Arabe, immobile, à la même place, renifla d’un air chagrin et se détourna vers la porte: “Adieu, fils,” dit-il. La porte battit derrière lui. Balducci surgit devant la fenêtre puis disparut. Ses pas étaient étouffés par la neige. Le cheval s’agita derrière la cloison, des poules s’effarèrent.
When the gendarme turned toward him, the schoolteacher caught the smell of leather and horses.
“Listen, Balducci,” said Daru suddenly. “All this disgusts me and first of all this fellow of yours. But I will not hand him over. I’ll fight, yes, if necessary. But not that.”
The old gendarme stood in front of him and looked at him severely.
“You’re a fool,” he said slowly. “I don’t like it either. I don’t get used to putting a rope on a man, after years of doing it, and I’m even, yes, ashamed. But you can’t let them do as they want.”
“I will not hand him over,” repeated Daru.
“It’s an order, son. I repeat it.”
“All right. Repeat to them what I told you: I will not hand him over.”
Visibly Balducci made an attempt to reflect. He looked at the Arab and Daru. He finally made up his mind.
“No. I’ll tell them nothing. If you want to drop us, do so, I will not denounce you. I have the order to hand over the prisoner and I’m doing it. Now you are going to sign this paper for me.”
“There’s no point in that. I’ll not deny that you left him with me.”
“Don’t be mean with me. I know you will tell the truth. You come from these parts and you’re a man. But you have to sign. That’s the rule.”
Daru opened his drawer, took out a small square bottle of purple ink, the red wooden penholder with the “sergeant-major” pen he used to make models of penmanship, and signed. The gendarme carefully folded the paper and put it in his billfold. Then he moved toward the door.
“Let me go with you,” said Daru.
“No,” said Balducci. “There is no point in being polite. You have insulted me.”
He looked at the Arab, motionless, in the same place, sniffed sorrowfully and turned away toward the door. “Goodbye, son,” he said. The door shut behind him. Balducci loomed up at the window and then disappeared. His footsteps were muffled by the snow. The horse stirred
Un moment après, Balducci repassa devant la fenêtre tirant le cheval par la bride. Il avançait vers le raidillon sans se retourner, disparut le premier et le cheval le suivit. On entendit une grosse pierre rouler mollement. Daru revint vers le prisonnier qui n’avait pas bougé, mais ne le quittait pas des yeux. “Attends,” dit l’instituteur en arabe, et il se dirigea vers la chambre. Au moment de passer le seuil, il se ravisa, alla au bureau, prit le revolver et le fourra dans sa poche. Puis, sans se retourner, il entra dans sa chambre.
Longtemps, il resta étendu sur son divan à regarder le ciel se fermer peu à peu, à écouter le silence. C’était ce silence qui lui avait paru pénible les premiers jours de son arrivée, après la guerre. Il avait demandé un poste dans la petite ville au pied des contreforts qui séparent du désert les hauts plateaux. Là, des murailles rocheuses, vertes et noires au nord, roses ou mauves au sud, marquaient la frontière de l’éternel été. On l’avait nommé à un poste plus au nord, sur le plateau même. Au début, la solitude et le silence lui avaient été durs sur ces terres ingrates, habitées seulement par des pierres. Parfois, des sillons faisaient croire à des cultures, mais ils avaient été creusés pour mettre au jour une certaine pierre, propice à la construction. On ne labourait ici que pour récolter des cailloux. D’autres fois, on grattait quelques copeaux de terre, accumulée dans des creux, dont on engraisserait les maigres jardins des villages. C’était ainsi, le caillou seul couvrait les trois quarts de ce pays. Les villes y naissaient, brillaient, puis disparaissaient; les hommes y passaient, s’aimaient ou se mordaient à la gorge, puis mouraient. Dans ce désert, personne, ni lui ni son hôte n’étaient rien. Et pourtant, hors de ce désert, ni l’un ni l’autre, Daru le savait, n’auraient pu vivre vraiment.
Quand il se leva, aucun bruit ne venait de la salle de classe. Il s’étonna de cette joie franche qui lui venait à la seule pensée que l’Arabe avait pu fuir et qu’il allait se retrouver seul sans avoir rien à décider. Mais le prisonnier
behind the wall and some chickens fluttered about. A moment later, Balducci passed again in front of the window pulling his horse by the bridle. He continued toward the steep path without turning around, and disappeared first, with his horse following him. A big stone could be heard gently rolling down. Daru came back toward the prisoner who had not stirred but had not taken his eyes off him. “Wait,” the schoolteacher said in Arabic, and he went toward the bedroom. On crossing the threshold, he changed his mind, went to the desk, took the revolver and stuffed it into his pocket. Then, without turning, he went into his room.
For a long time he lay stretched out on his couch watching the sky gradually close in and listening to the silence. This was the silence that had seemed painful to him on his first days here, after the war. He had asked for a position in the small town at the bottom of the foothills which separate the high plateaus from the desert. There, rocky walls, green and black to the north, pink and purple to the south, marked the frontier of eternal summer. He had been appointed for a position farther north, on the plateau itself. At first, the solitude and the silence had been hard for him on that barren land inhabited only by stones. In places, furrows suggested cultivation, but they had been dug up in order to uncover a certain kind of stone suitable for construction. People ploughed here only in order to harvest rocks. In other places, they scraped off a thin layer of soil, which had accumulated in the hollows, with which they would fertilize the meager village gardens. Thus it was: rock alone covered three quarters of this region. Towns grew up, flourished and disappeared. Men came, loved one another or fought brutally with one another and died. No one counted in this desert, neither he nor his guest. And yet Daru knew that outside of this desert, neither one of them could have really lived.
When he got up, no noise came from the classroom. He was surprised at the candid joy he felt at the thought that the Arab might have escaped and that he would be alone with no decision to make. But the prisoner was there. He
était là. Il s’était seulement couché de tout son long entre le poêle et le bureau. Les yeux ouverts, il regardait le plafond. Dans cette position, on voyait surtout ses lèvres épaisses qui lui donnaient un air boudeur. “Viens,” dit Daru. L’Arabe se leva et le suivit. Dans la chambre, l’instituteur lui montra une chaise près de la table, sous la fenêtre. L’Arabe prit place sans cesser de regarder Daru.
“Tu as faim?
— Oui,” dit le prisonnier.
Daru installa deux couverts. Il prit de la farine et de l’huile, pétrit dans un plat une galette et alluma le petit fourneau à butagaz. Pendant que la galette cuisait, il sortit pour ramener de l’appentis du fromage, des oeufs, des dattes et du lait condensé. Quand la galette fut cuite, il la mit à refroidir sur le rebord de la fenêtre, fit chauffer du lait condensé étendu d’eau et, pour finir, battit les oeufs en omelette. Dans un de ses mouvements, il heurta le revolver enfoncé dans sa poche droite. Il posa le bol, passa dans la salle de classe et mit le revolver dans le tiroir de son bureau. Quand il revint dans la chambre, la nuit tombait. Il donna de la lumière et servit l’Arabe: “Mange,” dit-il. L’autre prit un morceau de galette, le porta vivement à sa bouche et s’arrêta.
“Et toi? dit-il.
— Après toi. Je mangerai aussi.”
Les grosses lèvres s’ouvrirent un peu, l’Arabe hésita, puis il mordit résolument dans la galette.
Le repas fini, l’Arabe regardait l’instituteur.
“C’est toi le juge?
— Non, je te garde jusqu’à demain.
— Pourquoi tu manges avec moi?
— J’ai faim.”
L’autre se tut. Daru se leva et sortit. Il ramena un lit de camp de l’appentis, l’étendit entre la table et le poêle, perpendiculairement à son propre lit. D’une grande valise qui, debout dans un coin, servait d’étagère à dossiers, il tira deux couvertures qu’il disposa sur le lit de camp. Puis
had simply stretched out full length between the stove and the desk. His eyes were open and he was looking at the ceiling. In this position his thick lips could be easily seen and they made him seem pouting. “Come,” said Daru. The Arab got up and followed him. In the bedroom, the schoolteacher pointed to a chair near the table, under the window. The Arab sat down without taking his eyes off Daru.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes,” said the prisoner.
Daru set two places. He took flour and oil, kneaded a cake in a plate and lighted the small stove which used bottled gas. While the cake cooked, he went out to the shed to get cheese, eggs, dates and condensed milk. When the cake was cooked, he placed it on the window sill to cool, heated some condensed milk diluted with water, and then beat up the eggs in an omelette. In one of his movements he knocked the revolver which was stuck in his right pocket. He put down the bowl, went into the classroom and placed the revolver in his desk drawer. When he came back into the room, night was falling. He put on the light and served the Arab. “Eat,” he said. The fellow took a piece of cake, eagerly raised it to his mouth and stopped.
“And you?” he said.
“After you. I will eat too.”
The thick lips opened slightly. The Arab hesitated and then deliberately bit into the cake.
When the meal was over, the Arab looked at the schoolteacher.
“Are you the judge?”
“No, I am keeping you until tomorrow.”
“Why are you eating with me?”
“I am hungry.”
The fellow was silent. Daru got up and went out. From the shed he brought back a folding cot, set it up between the table and the stove, perpendicular to his own bed. From a large suitcase which, upright in a corner, served as a shelf for folders, he pulled out two blankets which he
il s’arrêta, se sentit oisif, s’assit sur son lit. Il n’y avait plus rien à faire ni à préparer. Il fallait regarder cet homme. Il le regardait donc, essayant d’imaginer ce visage emporté de fureur. Il n’y parvenait pas. Il voyait seulement le regard à la fois sombre et brillant, et la bouche animale.
“Pourquoi tu l’as tué?” dit-il d’une voix dont l’hostilité le surprit.
L’Arabe détourna son regard.
“Il s’est sauvé. J’ai couru derrière lui.”
Il releva les yeux sur Daru et ils étaient pleins d’une sorte d’interrogation malheureuse.
“Maintenant, qu’est-ce qu’on va me faire?
— Tu as peur?”
L’autre se raidit, en détournant les yeux.
“Tu regrettes?”
L’Arabe le regarda, bouche ouverte. Visiblement, il ne comprenait pas. L’irritation gagnait Daru. En même temps, il se sentait gauche et emprunté dans son gros corps, coincé entre les deux lits.
“Couche-toi là, dit-il avec impatience. C’est ton lit.”
L’Arabe ne bougeait pas. Il appela Daru:
“Dis!”
L’instituteur le regarda.
“Le gendarme revient demain?
— Je ne sais pas.
— Tu viens avec nous?
— Je ne sais pas. Pourquoi?”
Le prisonnier se leva et s’étendit à même les couvertures, les pieds vers la fenêtre. La lumière de l’ampoule électrique lui tombait droit dans les yeux qu’il ferma aussitôt.
“Pourquoi?” répéta Daru, planté devant le lit.
L’Arabe ouvrit les yeux sous la lumière aveuglante et le regarda en s’efforçant de ne pas battre les paupières.
“Viens avec nous,” dit-il.
Au milieu de la nuit, Daru ne dormait toujours pas. Il
placed on the camp bed. Then he stopped, felt useless and sat down on his bed. There was nothing more to do or prepare. He had to look at this man. So he looked at him, trying to imagine his face covered with rage. He was unable to. He saw only the dark but shining countenance and the sensual mouth.
“Why did you kill him?” he said in a voice whose hostility surprised him.
The Arab looked away.
“He ran away. I ran after him.”
He raised his eyes again to Daru and they were full of wretched questioning.
“Now, what are they going to do to me?”
“Are you afraid?”
The fellow stiffened and looked away.
“Are you sorry?”
The Arab looked at him open-mouthed. Obviously he did not understand. Daru was growing irritated. At the same time he felt awkward and self-conscious with his large body wedged between the two beds.
“Lie down there,” he said impatiently. “That’s your bed.”
The Arab did not move. He called out to Daru:
“Listen!”
The teacher looked at him.
“Is the gendarme coming back tomorrow?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you coming with us?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
The prisoner got up and lay down on top of the blankets, his feet toward the window. The light from the electric bulb shone straight into his eyes and he closed them immediately.
“Why?” repeated Daru, standing in front of the bed.
The Arab opened his eyes under the blinding light and looked at him, trying not to blink.
“Come with us,” he said.
In the middle of the night, Daru was still not asleep.
s’était mis au lit après s’être complètement déshabillé: il couchait nu habituellement. Mais quand il se trouva sans vêtements dans la chambre, il hésita. Il se sentait vulnérable, la tentation lui vint de se rhabiller. Puis il haussa les épaules; il en avait vu d’autres et, s’il le fallait, il casserait en deux son adversaire. De son lit, il pouvait l’observer, étendu sur le dos, toujours immobile et les yeux fermés sous la lumière violente. Quand Daru éteignit, les ténèbres semblèrent se congeler d’un coup. Peu à peu, la nuit redevint vivante dans la fenêtre où le ciel sans étoiles remuait doucement. L’instituteur distingua bientôt le corps étendu devant lui. L’Arabe ne bougeait toujours pas, mais ses yeux semblaient ouverts. Un léger vent rôdait autour de l’école. Il chasserait peut-être les nuages et le soleil reviendrait.
Dans la nuit, le vent grandit. Les poules s’agitèrent un peu, puis se turent. L’Arabe se retourna sur le côté, présentant le dos à Daru et celui-ci crut l’entendre gémir. Il guetta ensuite sa respiration, devenue plus forte et plus régulière. Il écoutait ce souffle si proche et rêvait sans pouvoir s’endormir. Dans la chambre où, depuis un an, il dormait seul, cette présence le gênait. Mais elle le gênait aussi parce qu’elle lui imposait une sorte de fraternité qu’il refusait dans les circonstances présentes et qu’il connaissait bien: les hommes, qui partagent les mêmes chambres, soldats ou prisonniers, contractent un lien étrange comme si, leurs armures quittées avec les vêtements, ils se rejoignaient chaque soir, par-dessus leurs différences, dans la vieille communauté du songe et de la fatigue. Mais Daru se secouait, il n’aimait pas ces bêtises, il fallait dormir.
Un peu plus tard pourtant, quand l’Arabe bougea imperceptiblement, l’instituteur ne dormait toujours pas. Au deuxième mouvement du prisonnier, il se raidit, en alerte. L’Arabe se soulevait lentement sur les bras, d’un mouvement presque somnambulique. Assis sur le lit, il attendit, immobile, sans tourner la tête vers Daru, comme s’il écoutait de toute son attention. Daru ne bougea pas: il venait de penser que le revolver était resté dans le tiroir de son bureau.
He had gotten into bed after taking off all his clothes. He usually slept naked. But when he realized he was in the bedroom without clothes, he hesitated. He felt vulnerable and was tempted to dress again. Then he shrugged his shoulders. He had been through worse things, and if he had to, he would break his adversary in two. From his bed, he could see him, lying on his back, still immobile and his eyes closed under the strong light. When Daru put out the light, the darkness suddenly seemed to coagulate. Gradually the night became alive again in the window where the starless sky gently moved. The teacher soon discerned the stretched-out body in front of him. The Arab still did not move, but his eyes seemed open. A light wind prowled around the school. It would perhaps dispel the clouds and the sun would come back.
During the night the wind grew stronger. The chickens fluttered a bit and then were quiet. The Arab turned on his side, with his back to Daru who thought he heard him moan. Then he listened for the man’s breathing which had become heavier and more regular. He listened to that breath close to him and dreamed without being able to fall asleep. In the room where for a year he had been sleeping alone, this presence disturbed him. But it disturbed him also because it imposed on him a kind of brotherhood which he refused under the present circumstances and which he knew very well. Men who share the same room, soldiers or prisoners, form a strange bond as if, when their armor is removed with their clothes, they came together each evening, despite their differences, in the ancient community of dreams and fatigue. But Daru shook himself. He did not like such foolishness. He needed sleep.
A little later, however, when the Arab stirred slightly, the teacher was still not sleeping. At the second move of the prisoner, he stiffened, on the alert. The Arab slowly raised himself on his arms, with almost the motion of a somnambulist. Seated on the bed, he waited motionless, without turning his head toward Daru, as if he was listening very attentively. Daru did not move. He had just remembered that the revolver was still in his desk drawer.
Il valait mieux agir tout de suite. Il continua cependant d’observer le prisonnier qui, du même mouvement huilé, posait ses pieds sur le sol, attendait encore, puis commençait à se dresser lentement. Daru allait l’interpeller quand l’Arabe se mit en marche, d’une allure naturelle cette fois, mais extraordinairement silencieuse. Il allait vers la porte du fond qui donnait sur l’appentis. Il fit jouer le loquet avec précaution et sortit en repoussant la porte derrière lui, sans la refermer. Daru n’avait pas bougé: “Il fuit, pensait-il seulement. Bon débarras!” Il tendit pourtant l’oreille. Les poules ne bougeaient pas: l’autre était donc sur le plateau. Un faible bruit d’eau lui parvint alors dont il ne comprit ce qu’il était qu’au moment où l’Arabe s’encastra de nouveau dans la porte, la referma avec soin, et vint se recoucher sans un bruit. Alors Daru lui tourna le dos et s’endormit. Plus tard encore, il lui sembla entendre, du fond de son sommeil, des pas furtifs autour de l’école. “Je rêve, je rêve!” se répétait-il. Et il dormait.
Quand il se réveilla, le ciel était découvert; par la fenêtre mal jointe entrait un air froid et pur. L’Arabe dormait, recroquevillé maintenant sous les couvertures, la bouche ouverte, totalement abandonné. Mais quand Daru le secoua, il eut un sursaut terrible, regardant Daru sans le reconnaître avec des yeux fous et une expression si apeurée que l’instituteur fit un pas en arrière. “N’aie pas peur. C’est moi. Il faut manger.” L’Arabe secoua la tête et dit oui. Le calme était revenu sur son visage, mais son expression restait absente et distraite.
Le café était prêt. Ils le burent, assis tous deux sur le lit de camp, en mordant leurs morceaux de galette. Puis Daru mena l’Arabe sous l’appentis et lui montra le robinet où il faisait sa toilette. Il rentra dans la chambre, plia les couvertures et le lit de camp, fit son propre lit et mit la pièce en ordre. Il sortit alors sur le terre-plein en passant par l’école. Le soleil montait déjà dans le ciel bleu; une lumière tendre et vive inondait le plateau désert. Sur le raidillon, la neige fondait par endroits. Les pierres allaient apparaître de nouveau. Accroupi au bord du plateau, l’instituteur con-
It was better to act at once. Yet he continued to watch the prisoner who, with the same gliding motion, put his feet on the floor, waited some more, and then began slowly to stand up. Daru was going to call to him when the Arab began to walk, in a natural way this time, but extraordinarily silent. He went toward the back door which opened on to the shed. He lifted the latch cautiously and went out pushing the door behind him and not shutting it. Daru had not moved. “He’s escaping,” was his only thought. “Good riddance!” Yet he listened intently. The chickens did not stir. Therefore the fellow was on the plateau. A faint noise of water reached him then which he did not understand until the moment when the Arab stood again framed in the doorway, closed it carefully and came to lie down again without a sound. Then Daru turned his back to him and fell asleep. Still later, it seemed to him he heard, from the depths of his sleep, furtive steps around the schoolhouse. “I’m dreaming! I’m dreaming!” he repeated to himself. And he continued sleeping.
When he awoke, the sky was clear. A cold pure air came in because of the loose window. The Arab slept, curled up now under the blankets, his mouth open and completely relaxed. But when Daru shook him, he started up terrified looking at Daru without recognizing him and with a mad look in his eyes and such a frightened expression that the teacher took one step back. “Don’t be afraid. It’s me. You must eat.” The Arab shook his head and said yes. Peacefulness had come back into his face, but his expression remained empty and abstracted.
The coffee was ready. They drank it. Both were seated on the camp bed as they bit into their pieces of cake. Then Daru led the Arab under the shed and showed him the faucet where he washed. He went back into the room, folded the blankets and the camp bed, made his own bed and put the room in order. Then, passing through the school he went out on to the terrace. The sun was already rising in the blue sky. A delicate shining light bathed the barren plateau. On the steep path, the snow was melting in spots. The stones were soon going to reappear. Crouched
templait l’étendue déserte. Il pensait à Balducci. Il lui avait fait de la peine, il l’avait renvoyé, d’une certaine manière, comme s’il ne voulait pas être dans le même sac.5 Il entendait encore l’adieu du gendarme et, sans savoir pourquoi, il se sentait étrangement vide et vulnérable. A ce moment, de l’autre côté de l’école, le prisonnier toussa. Daru l’écouta, presque malgré lui, puis, furieux, jeta un caillou qui siffla dans l’air avant de s’enfoncer dans la neige. Le crime imbécile de cet homme le révoltait, mais le livrer était contraire à l’honneur: d’y penser seulement le rendait fou d’humiliation. Et il maudissait à la fois les siens qui lui envoyaient cet Arabe et celui-ci qui avait osé tuer et n’avait pas su s’enfuir. Daru se leva, tourna en rond sur le terre-plein, attendit, immobile, puis entra dans l’école.
L’Arabe, penché sur le sol cimenté de l’appentis, se lavait les dents avec deux doigts. Daru le regarda, puis: “Viens,” dit-il. Il rentra dans la chambre, devant le prisonnier. Il enfila une veste de chasse sur son chandail et chaussa des souliers de marche. Il attendit debout que l’Arabe eût remis son chèche et ses sandales. Ils passèrent dans l’école et l’instituteur montra la sortie à son compagnon. “Va,” dit-il. L’autre ne bougea pas. “Je viens,” dit Daru. L’Arabe sortit. Daru rentra dans la chambre et fit un paquet avec des biscottes, des dattes et du sucre. Dans la salle de classe, avant de sortir, il hésita une seconde devant son bureau, puis il franchit le seuil de l’école et boucla la porte. “C’est par là,” dit-il. Il prit la direction de l’est, suivi par le prisonnier. Mais, à une faible distance de l’école, il lui sembla entendre un léger bruit derrière lui. Il revint sur ses pas, inspecta les alentours de la maison: il n’y avait personne. L’Arabe le regardait faire, sans paraître comprendre. “Allons,” dit Daru.
Ils marchèrent une heure et se reposèrent auprès d’une sorte d’aiguille calcaire. La neige fondait de plus en plus vite, le soleil pompait aussitôt les flaques, nettoyait à toute
on the edge of the plateau, the teacher contemplated the barren expanse. He thought of Balducci. He had hurt him. He had sent him off in such a way as to imply he didn’t want to be associated with him. He could still hear the gendarme saying goodbye, and, without knowing why, he felt strangely empty and vulnerable. At that instant, on the other side of the school, the prisoner coughed. Daru listened to him, almost against his will, and then, in a rage, threw a stone which whistled through the air before sinking into the snow. This man’s stupid crime disgusted him, but to hand him over was contrary to honor. Just thinking of this made him sick with humiliation. And he cursed simultaneously his own people who sent him the Arab and the Arab himself who had dared kill a man and who had not been able to escape. Daru got up, walked in a circle on the terrace, waited motionless, and then went into the school.
The Arab, leaning over the cement floor of the shed, was washing his teeth with two fingers. Daru looked at him and then said, “Come.” He went back into the room, ahead of the prisoner. He slipped on a hunting jacket over his sweater and put on walking shoes. He stood and waited until the Arab had put on his chèche and his sandals. They went into the schoolroom and the teacher pointed to the door and said to his companion, “Go.” The fellow did not move. “I am coming,” said Daru. The Arab went outside. Daru went back into the bedroom and made a package of rusk, dates and sugar. In the classroom, before going out, he hesitated a second in front of his desk, then crossed the threshold of the school and locked the door. “This is the way,” he said. He took the direction eastward, followed by the prisoner. But, at a short distance from the school, he thought he heard a slight noise behind him. He retraced his steps and inspected the surroundings of the house. No one was there. The Arab watched him without seeming to understand. “Let’s go,” said Daru.
They walked for an hour and rested near a needle-shaped piece of limestone. The snow was melting faster all the time. The sun immediately dried up the puddles,
allure le plateau qui, peu à peu, devenait sec et vibrait comme l’air lui-même. Quand ils reprirent la route, le sol résonnait sous leurs pas. De loin en loin, un oiseau fendait l’espace devant eux avec un cri joyeux. Daru buvait, à profondes aspirations, la lumière fraîche. Une sorte d’exaltation naissait en lui devant le grand espace familier, presque entièrement jaune maintenant, sous sa calotte de ciel bleu. Ils marchèrent encore une heure, en descendant vers le sud. Ils arrivèrent à une sorte d’éminence aplatie, faite de rochers friables. A partir de là, le plateau dévalait, à l’est, vers une plaine basse où l’on pouvait distinguer quelques arbres maigres et, au sud, vers des amas rocheux qui donnaient au paysage un aspect tourmenté.
Daru inspecta les deux directions. Il n’y avait que le ciel à l’horizon, pas un homme ne se montrait. Il se tourna vers l’Arabe, qui le regardait sans comprendre. Daru lui tendit un paquet: “Prends, dit-il. Ce sont des dattes, du pain, du sucre. Tu peux tenir deux jours. Voilà mille francs aussi.” L’Arabe prit le paquet et l’argent, mais il gardait ses mains pleines à hauteur de la poitrine, comme s’il ne savait que faire de ce qu’on lui donnait. “Regarde maintenant, dit l’instituteur, et il lui montrait la direction de l’est, voilà la route de Tinguit. Tu as deux heures de marche. A Tinguit, il y a l’administration et la police. Ils t’attendent.” L’Arabe regardait vers l’est, retenant toujours le paquet et l’argent. Daru lui prit le bras et lui fit faire, sans douceur, un quart de tour vers le sud. Au pied de la hauteur où ils se trouvaient, on devinait un chemin à peine dessiné. “Ça, c’est la piste qui traverse le plateau. A un jour de marche d’ici, tu trouveras les pâturages et les premiers nomades. Ils t’accueilleront et t’abriteront, selon leur loi.” L’Arabe s’était retourné maintenant vers Daru et une sorte de panique se levait sur son visage: “Écoute,” dit-il. Daru secoua la tête: “Non, tais-toi. Maintenant, je te laisse.” Il lui tourna le dos, fit deux grands pas dans la direction de l’école, regarda d’un air indécis l’Arabe immobile et repartit. Pendant quelques minutes, il n’entendit plus que son propre pas, sonore sur la terre froide, et il ne détourna pas la tête. Au bout d’un moment, pourtant, il se retourna. L’Arabe était
swiftly cleaned the plateau which gradually dried and vibrated like the air itself. When they resumed walking, the earth resounded under their feet. From time to time, a bird cut through the space in front of them with a joyous cry. With deep breaths Daru drank in the cool light. A kind of exaltation rose in him as he faced the vast familiar space, now almost completely yellow, under its canopy of blue sky. They walked one more hour, descending toward the south. They reached a kind of flat hill made of crumbling rocks. From there on, the plateau sloped eastward toward a low plain where a few thin trees could be seen, and southward, toward masses of rock which gave the landscape the appearance of chaos.
Daru examined the two directions. Only the sky was on the horizon. Not a man was visible. He turned toward the Arab who was looking at him without understanding. Daru handed him a package. “Take it,” he said. “They are dates, bread and sugar. You can hold out for two days. Here are a thousand francs too.” The Arab took the package and the money, but he kept them in his hands on a level with his chest, as if he didn’t know what to do with what had been given him. “Now look,” the teacher said, and pointed in the direction of the east. “That is the road to Tinguit. You have a two-hour walk. In Tinguit there is the administration and the police. They are expecting you.” The Arab looked toward the east and still held against his chest the package and the money. Daru took his arm and without gentleness made him turn a quarter of a turn toward the south. At the foot of the height where they were, a faintly drawn road could be seen. “That is the trail which crosses the plateau. In a day’s walk from here, you will come upon the pasture land and the first nomads. They will welcome you and give you shelter, according to their law.” The Arab had now turned toward Daru and an expression of panic covered his face. “Listen,” he said. Daru shook his head. “No, say no more. Now I’m leaving you.” He turned his back on him, took two long steps in the direction of the school, hesitatingly looked at the motionless Arab, and left. For a few minutes he heard nothing but his own
toujours là, au bord de la colline, les bras pendants maintenant, et il regardait l’instituteur. Daru sentit sa gorge se nouer. Mais il jura d’impatience, fit un grand signe, et repartit. Il était déjà loin quand il s’arrêta de nouveau et regarda. Il n’y avait plus personne sur la colline.
Daru hésita. Le soleil était maintenant assez haut dans le ciel et commençait de lui dévorer le front. L’instituteur revint sur ses pas, d’abord un peu incertain, puis avec décision. Quand il parvint à la petite colline, il ruisselait de sueur. Il la gravit à toute allure et s’arrêta, essoufflé, sur le sommet. Les champs de roche, au sud, se dessinaient nettement sur le ciel bleu, mais sur la plaine, à l’est, une buée de chaleur montait déjà. Et dans cette brume légère, Daru, le coeur serré, découvrit l’Arabe qui cheminait lentement sur la route de la prison.
Un peu plus tard, planté devant la fenêtre de la salle de classe, l’instituteur regardait sans la voir la jeune lumière bondir des hauteurs du ciel sur toute la surface du plateau. Derrière lui, sur le tableau noir, entre les méandres des fleuves français s’étalait, tracée à la craie par une main malhabile, l’inscription qu’il venait de lire: “Tu as livré notre frère. Tu paieras.” Daru regardait le ciel, le plateau et, au-delà, les terres invisibles qui s’étendaient jusqu’à la mer. Dans ce vaste pays qu’il avait tant aimé, il était seul.
step resounding on the cold earth, and he did not turn his head. But after a short time, he turned around. The Arab was still there, on the edge of the hill, his arms hanging now, and he was looking at the teacher. Daru felt his throat contract. But he swore impatiently, waved his arm and started walking again. He was already at some distance when he stopped again and looked. No longer was anyone on the hill.
Daru hesitated. The sun was now quite high in the sky and was beginning to burn his brow. The teacher retraced his steps at first uncertainly and then with determination. When he reached the little hill, he was sweating profusely. He climbed it fast and stopped, breathless, at the top. The fields of rock, to the south, were already outlined against the blue sky, but on the plain, to the east, the steam of heat was already rising. And in that slight haze, Daru, with a heavy heart, made out the Arab slowly walking along the road to prison.
A little later, standing in front of the window of the classroom, the teacher, without seeing it, was watching the early light fall from the heights of the sky to the entire surface of the plateau. Behind him, on the blackboard, between the winding of the French rivers, spread out, written in chalk by a clumsy hand, the message which he had just read: “You handed over our brother. You will pay for this.” Daru looked at the sky, the plateau and, beyond, at the invisible lands stretching to the sea. In this vast region which he had loved so much, he was alone.