one critic, "cannot be denied, for it completely conquers the
critical sense, and the ideas of the author insinuate
themselves, as it were, among one's inmost thoughts." Yet Mr.
Hichens' stories are popular, not only with literary
connoisseurs, but also with the general public, inasmuch as
they owe their fascination not so much to an extreme
refinement of art as to their freshness of imagination and
dramatic intensity. This epitome of the "Garden of Allah" has
been prepared by Mr. Hichens himself.


_I.--The Home of Peace_


On an autumn evening, Domini Enfilden leaned on the parapet of a
verandah of the Hotel du Désert at Beni-Mora, in Southern Algeria,
gazing towards the great Sahara, which was lit up by the glory of
sunset. The bell of the Catholic Church chimed. She heard the throbbing
of native drums in the village near by. Tired with her long journey from
England, she watched and listened while the twilight crept among the
palms, and the sandy alleys grew dark.

Thirty-two, an orphan, unmarried, strong, fearless, ardent, but a deeply
religious woman and a Catholic, Domini had passed through much mental
agony. Her mother, Lady Rens, a member of one of England's oldest
Catholic families, but half Hungarian on the mother's side, had run away
when Domini was nineteen with a Hungarian musician, leaving her only
child with her despairing and abandoned husband. Lord Rens had become a
Catholic out of love for his wife. When he was deserted by her, he
furiously renounced his faith, and eventually died blaspheming. In vain