anner.themummy-第11部分

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　The　mummy　lay　exposed　for　all　to　see；　the　tall　figure　of　a　man　with　arms　crossed　on　his　breast；　seemingly　bald　and　naked　under　its　thick　discoloured　wrappings。
　
　A　collective　gasp　rose　from　the　crowd。　In　the　golden　light　of　the　electric　chandeliers　and　the　few　scattered　candelabra；　the　form　was　faintly　horrible　as　they　always　are。　Death　preserved　and　mounted。
　
　There　was　an　uneasy　sprinkling　of　applause。　Shudders；　even　uneasy　laughter；　and　then　the　thick　bank　of　spectators　broke　up；　some　drawing　in　for　a　closer　look；　then　backing　off　as　if　from　the　heat　of　a　fire；　others　turning　their　backs　on　the　thing　altogether。
　
　Randolph　sighed　and　shook　his　head。
　
　〃Died　for　this；　did　he？　I　wish　I　understood　why。〃
　
　〃Don't　be　morbid；〃　　said　the　man　next　to　him；　someone　Elliott　ought　to　remember；　but　didn't。〃　Lawrence　was　happy…〃
　
　〃Doing　what　he　wanted　to　do；〃　　Elliott　whispered。　If　he　heard　it　said　even　one　more　time；　he　would　weep。
　
　Lawrence　would　have　been　happy　examining　his　treasure。
　
　Lawrence　would　have　been　happy　translating　those　scrolls。　Lawrence's　death　was　a　tragedy。　Anyone　who　tried　to　make　anything　else　out　of　it　was　a　perfect　fool。
　
　Elliott　gave　Randolph's　arm　a　gentle　squeeze　and　left　him；　moving　slowly　towards　the　venerable　corpse　of　Ramses。
　
　It　seemed　the　younger　generation　had　decided　en　masse　to　block　his　progress　as　they　surrounded　Alex　and　Julie。　Elliott　could　hear　her　voice　in　snatches　as　conversation　regained　its　spirited　volume　all　around。
　
　〃。。。　a　remarkable　story　in　the　papyri；〃　　Julie　explained。〃　But　Father　had　only　begun　his　translation。　I　should　like　to　know　what　you　think；　Elliott。〃
　
　〃What　was　that；　my　dear？〃　　He　had　just　reached　the　mummy　itself　and　he　was　staring　at　the　face；　marvelling　at　how　easily　one　could　discern　an　expression　under　so　many　layers　of　deposing　cloth。　He　took　her　hand　now　as　she　moved　close　to　him。　Others　pressed　in；　trying　to　get　a　good　look；　but　Elliott　stood　his　ground　rather　selfishly。
　
　〃Your　opinion；　Elliott；　of　the　whole　mystery；〃　　Julie　said。〃　Is　this　a　nineteenth…dynasty　coffin？　How　did　it　e　to　be　fashioned　in　Roman　times？　You　know；　Father　told　me　once；　you　knew　more　about　Egyptology　than　all　the　men　at　the　museum。〃
　
　He　laughed　softly　to　himself。　She　glanced　about　nervously　to　make　sure　Hancock　was　nowhere　near。　Thank　God；　he　was　in　the　thick　of　his　own　little　crowd；　explaining　something　about　those　scrolls；　no　doubt；　and　the　row　of　exquisite　jars　along　the　wall　beneath　the　mirror。
　
　〃What　do　you　think？〃　　Julie　prodded　again。　Had　seriousness　ever　been　so　seductive？
　
　〃Can't　possibly　be　Ramses　the　Great；　my　dear；〃　　he　said。〃　But　then　you　know　that。〃　　He　studied　the　painted　lid　of　the　coffin　again；　and　once　more　the　body　nestled　in　its　dusty　swathing。〃　An　excellent　job；　I　must　say　that。　Not　many　chemicals　were　used；　no　smell　of　bitumen　whatsoever。〃
　
　〃There　is　no　bitumen；〃　　Samir　said　suddenly。　He　had　been　standing　on　Elliot's　left　and　Elliott　had　not　even　seen　him；
　
　〃And　what　do　you　make　of　that？〃　　Elliott　asked。
　
　〃The　King　has　given　us　his　own　explanation；〃　　Samir　said。
　
　〃Or　so　Lawrence　told　me。　Ramses　had　himself　wrapped　with　all　due　ceremony　and　prayers；　but　he　was　not　embalmed。　He　was　never　taken　from　the　cell　where　he　wrote　his　story。〃
　
　〃What　an　amazing　idea！〃　　Elliott　said。〃　And　have　you　read　these　inscriptions　yourself？〃　　He　pointed　to　the　Latin　as　he　translated：〃　　'Let　not　the　sun　shine　on　my　remains；　for　in　darkness　I　sleep；　beyond　all　suffering；　beyond　all　knowledge。。。'　Now　that　is　hardly　an　Egyptian　sentiment。　I　think　you'll　agree。〃
　
　Samir's　face　darkened　as　he　looked　at　the　tiny　letters。〃　There　are　curses　and　warnings　everywhere。　I　was　a　curious　man　until　we　opened　this　strange　tomb。〃
　
　〃And　now　you're　frightened？〃　　Not　a　good　thing　for　one　man　to　say　to　another。　But　it　was　true。　And　Julie　was　merely　enthralled。
　
　〃Elliott；　I　want　you　to　read　Father's　notes；〃　　she　said；〃　before　the　museum　gathers　up　everything　and　locks　it　in　a　vault。　The　man　doesn't　merely　claim　to　be　Ramses。　There's　a　good　deal　more。〃
　
　〃You're　not　referring　to　the　nonsense　in　the　papers；〃　　he　asked　her。〃　About　his　being　immortal；　and　loving　Cleopatra。〃
　
　Strange　the　way　she　looked　at　him。〃　Father　translated　some　of　it；〃　　she　repeated。　She　glanced　to　the　side。〃　I　have　the　notebook。　It's　on　his　desk。　Samir　will　agree　with　me；　1　think。　You'll　find　it　interesting。〃
　
　But　Samir　was　being　dragged　away　by　Hancock　and　some　other　fellow　with　a　brittle　smile。　And　Lady　Treadwell　had　accosted　Julie　before　she　could　go　on。　Wasn't　Julie　afraid　of　the　curse？　Elliott　felt　her　hand　slip　away　from　his。　Old　Winslow　Baker　wanted　to　talk　to　Elliott　right　now。　No；　go　away。　A　tall　woman　with　withered　cheeks　and　long　white　hands　stood　before　the　coffin　and　demanded　to　know　if　the　whole　thing　might　be　a　practical　joke。
　
　〃Certainly　not！〃　　said　Baker。〃　Lawrence　always　dug　up　the　real　thing；　I　'd　stake　my　life　on　it。〃
　
　Elliott　smiled。〃　Once　the　museum　has　these　wrappings　off；〃　　he　said；〃　they'll　be　able　to　date　the　remains　successfully。　There　will　be　internal　evidence　of　age；　of　course。〃　

　〃Lord　Rutherford；　I　didn't　recognize　you；〃　　said　the　woman。
　
　Good　Lord；　was　he　supposed　to　recognize　her？　Someone　had　stepped　in　front　of　her；　everyone　wanted　to　see　this　thing。　And　he　ought　to　move；　but　he　didn't　want　to。
　
　〃I　can't　bear　to　think　of　their　cutting　him　open；〃　　Julie　said　half　in　a　whisper。〃　This　is　the　first　time　I've　seen　him；〃　　she　said。〃　I　didn't　dare　to　open　the　case　on　my　own。〃
　
　〃e　along；　darling；　there's　an　old　friend　I　want　you　to
　
　meet；〃　　Alex　said　suddenly。〃　Father；　there　you　are！　Do　get　off　your　feet！　Do　you　want　me　to　help　you　to　a　chair？〃
　
　〃I　can　manage；　Alex；　go　on；〃　　Elliott　replied。　The　fact　was；　he　was　used　to　the　pain。　It　was　like　tiny　knives　in　his　joints；　and　tonight　he　could　feel　it　even　in　his　fingers。　But　he　could　forget　about　it；　entirely；　now　and　then。
　
　And　now　he　was　alone　with　Ramses　the　Damned；　with　a　lot　of　backs　and　shoulders　turned　to　him。　How　splendid。
　
　He　narrowed　his　eyes　as　he　drew　very　close　to　the　mummy's　face。　Amazingly　well　formed；　not　desiccated　at　all。　And　certainly　not　the　face　of　an　old　man；　such　as　Ramses　would　have　been　at　the　end　of　a　sixty…year　reign。
　
　The　mouth　was　a　young　man's　mouth；　or　at　least　that　of　a　man　in　his　prime。　And　the　nose　was　slender；　but　not　emaciated…what　Englishmen　call　aristocratic。　The　ridges　of　the　brows　were　prominent　and　the　eyes　themselves　could　not　have　been　small。　Probably　a　handsome　man。　In　fact；　there　seemed　little　doubt　of　it。
　
　Someone　said　crossly　that　the　thing　ought　to　be　in　the　museum。　Another　that　it　was　perfectly　gruesome。　And　to　think；　these　had　been　Lawrence's　friends？　Hancock　was　examining　the　gold　coins　on　display　in　their　velvet…lined　case。　Samir　was　beside　him。
　
　In　fact；　Hancock　was　making　a　fuss　about　something；　wasn't　he？　Elliott　knew　that　officious　tone。
　
　〃There　were　five；　only　five？　You're　sure　of　it？〃　　And　he　was　speaking　so　loudly　one　would　have　thought　Samir　was　deaf；　not　merely　Egyptian。
　
　〃Quite　sure。　I　told　you；〃　　Samir　said　with　a　touch　of　irritation。〃　I　cataloged　the　entire　contents　of　the　chamber　myself。〃
　
　Quite　unmistakably；　Hancock　shifted　his　gaze　to　someone　across　the　room。　Elliott　saw　it　was　Henry　Stratford；　looking　quite　splendid　in　his　dove…grey　wool；　with　a　black　silk　tie　at　his　throat。　Laughing　and　talking　nervously；　too；　it　seemed；　with　Alex　and　Julie　and　that　crowd　of　young　people　whom　Henry　secretly　loathed　and　resented。
　
　Handsome　as　ever；　Elliott　thought。　Handsome　as　when　he　was　a　boy　of　twenty；　and　that　narrow　elegant　face　could　flash　from　a　beguiling　vulnerability　to　a　chilling　viciousness。
　
　But　why　was　Hancock　staring　at　him？　And　what　was　he　whispering　now　in　Samir's　ear？　Samir　looked　at　Hancock　for　a　long　moment；　then　gave　a　languid　little　shrug；　his　eyes　moving　slowly　over　Henry　also。
　
　How　Samir　must　loathe　all　this；　Elliott　thought。　How　he　must　loathe　that　unfortable　Western　suit；　he　wants　his　gellebiyya　of　watered　silk；　and　his　slippers；　and　he　should　have　them。　What　barbarians　we　must　seem。
　
　Elliott　moved　to　the　far　corner　and　slipped　into　Lawrence's　leather　chair；　easing　it　back　against　the　wall。　The　crowd　opened　and　closed　at　random；　revealing　Henry　again　moving　away　from　the　others；　and　glancing　unfortably　to　right　and　left。　Very　subtle；　not　like　a　stage　villain；　but　he's　up　to　something；　isn't　he？
　
　Henry　slowly　passed　the　marble　table；　his　hand　hovering　as　if　he　meant　to　touch　the　ancient　scrolls。　The　crowd　closed　again；　but　Elliott　merely　waited。　The　little　knot　of　persons　in　front　of　him　shifted　finally；　and　there　was　Henry；　yards　away；　peering　at　a　necklace　on　a　little　glass　shelf；　one　of　those　many　relics　which　Lawrence　had　brought　home　years　ago。
　
　Did　anyone　see　Henry　pick　up　the　necklace　and　look　at　it　lovingly　as　if　he　were　an　antiquarian？　Did　anyone　see　him　slip　it　into　his　pocket　and　walk　away；　face　blank；　mouth　rigid？
　
　Bastard。
　
　Elliott　only　smiled。　He　took　a　sip　of　the　chilled　white　wine；　and　wished　it　were　sherry。　He　wished　he　had　not　seen　the　lithe　theft。　He　wished　he　had　not　seen　Henry。
　
　His　own　secret　memories　of　Henry　had　never　lost　their　painful　edge；　perhaps　because　he　had　never　confessed　what　had　happened　to　anyone。　Not　even　to　Edith；　though　he　had　told　her　many　other　sordid　things　about　himself　when　wine　and　philosophy　had　made　it　seem　imperative　that　he　do　so；　and　not　to　the　Roman　Catholic　priests　to　whom　he　occasionally　went　to　speak　of　heaven　and　hell　in　passionate　ways　no　one　else　would　tolerate。
　
　He　always　told　himself　that　if　he　did　not　relive　those　dark　times；　then　he　would　forget　them。　But　they　were　horridly　vivid　even　now；　some　ten　years　after。
　
　He　had　loved　Henry　Stratford　once。　And　Henry　Stratford　was　the　only　lover　Elliott　had　ever　had　who　tried　to　blackmail　him。
　
　Of　course　it　had　been　an　utter　failure。　Elliott　had　laughed　in　Henry's　face。　He'd　called　his　bluff。〃　Shall　I　tell　your　father　all　about　it？　Or　shall　I　tell　your　uncle　Lawrence　first？　He's　going　to　be　furious　with