In the middle of the night, Daru was still not asleep. He had gone to bed after
undressing completely; he generally slept naked. But when he suddenly realized that he
had nothing on, he hesitated. He felt vulnerable and the temptation came to him to put his
clothes back on. Then he shrugged his shoulders; after all, he wasn't a child and, if need
be, he could break his adversary in two. From his bed he could observe him, lying on his
back, still motionless with his eyes closed under the harsh light. When Daru turned out
the light, the darkness seemed to coagulate all of a sudden. Little bv little, the night came
back to life in the window where the starless skv was stirring gently. The schoolmaster
soon made out the body lying at his feet. The Arab still did not move, but his eyes
seemed open. A light wind was prowling around the schoolhouse. Perhaps it would drive
away the cIouds and the sin would reappear.
During the night the wind increased. The hens fluttered a little and then were silent.
The Arab turned over on his side with his back to Daru, who thought he heard him moan.
Then he listened for his guest's breathing, become heavier and more regular. He listened
to that breath so close to him and mused without being able to go to sleep. In this room
where he had been sleeping alone for a year, this presence bothered him. But it bothered
him also by imposing on him a sort of brotherhood he knew well but refused to accept in
the present circumstances. Men who share the same rooms, soldiers or prisoners, develop
a strange alliance as if, having cast off their armor with their clothing, they fraternized
every evening, over and above their differences, in the ancient community of dream and
fatigue. But Daru shook himself; he didn't like such musings, and it was essential to
sleep