anner.themummy-第3部分

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　〃Precisely；　Elliott；　precisely。〃
　
　〃You　know；　you　might　say　no　to　your　son　once　hi　a　while。〃　　A　deep　sigh　came　from　Randolph。　Elliott　didn't　press　it。　He　knew　as　well　as　anyone　did　that　Henry's　deterioration　was　no　joke　any　longer；　it　had　nothing　to　do　with　sowing　wild　oats；　or　going　through　a　rough　period。　There　was　something　thoroughly　rotten　in　Henry　Stratford　and　there　always　had　been。　There　was　very　little　that　was　rotten　in　Randolph。　And　so　it　was　a　tragedy；　and　Elliott；　who　loved　his　own　son；　Alex；　excessively；　had　only　sympathy　for　Randolph　on　that　score。
　
　More　assurances；　a　positive　din　of　assurance。　You'll　get　your　twenty　thousand　pounds。　But　Elliott　wasn't　listening。　He　was　watching　the　dancers　again…his　good　and　gentle　son　whispering　passionately　to　Julie；　whose　face　wore　that　look　of　determination　that　flattered　her　for　reasons　that　Elliott　could　never　fully　understand。
　
　Some　women　must　smile　to　be　beautiful。　Some　women　must　weep。　But　with　Julie；　the　real　radiance　shone　only　when　she　was　serious…perhaps　because　her　eyes　were　too　softly　brown　otherwise；　her　mouth　too　guileless；　her　porcelain　cheeks　too　smooth。
　
　Fired　with　determination；　she　was　a　vision。　And　Alex；　for　all
　
　his　breeding；　and　all　his　proffered　passion；　seemed　no　more　than　**a　partner〃　　for　her；　one　of　a　thousand　elegant　young　men　who　might　have　guided　her　across　the　marble　floor。
　
　ft　was　the〃　Morning　Papers　Waltz〃　　and　Julie　loved　it；　she　had　always　loved　it。　There　came　back　to　her　now　a　faint　memory　of　dancing　once　to　the〃　Morning　Papers　Waltz〃　　with　her　father。　Was　ft　when　they　had　first　brought　home　the　gramophone；　and　they　had　danced　all　through　the　Egyptian　room　and　the　library　and　the　drawing　rooms…she　and　Father…until　the　light　came　through　the　shutters；　and　he　had　said：
　
　〃Oh；　my　dear；　no　more。　No　more。〃
　
　Now　the　music　made　her　drowsy　and　almost　sad。　And　Alex　kept　talking　to　her；　telling　her　in　one　way　or　another　that　he　loved　her；　and　mere　was　that　panic　inside　her；　that　fear　of　speaking　harsh　or　cold　words。
　
　〃And　if　you　want　to　live　in　Egypt；〃　　Alex　said　breathlessly；〃　and　dig　for　mummies　with　your　father；　well　then；　we'll　go　to　Egypt。　We'll　go　straight　after　the　wedding。　And　if　you　want　to　in　arch　for　the　vote；　well　then；　I　shall　march　at　your　side。〃
　
　〃Oh；　yes；〃　　Julie　answered；〃　that's　what　you　say　now；　and　I　know　you　mean　it　with　all　your　heart；　but　Alex；　I'm　just　not　ready。　I　cannot。〃
　
　She　couldn't　bear　to　see　him　so　deadly　earnest。　She　couldn't　bear　to　see　him　hurt。　If　only　there　were　a　little　wickedness　in　Alex；　just　a　little　bit　of　meanness　as　there　was　in　everyone　else。　His　good　looks　would　nave　been　improved　by　a　little　meanness。　Tall；　lean　and　brown…haired；　he　was　too　angelic。　His　quick　dark　eyes　revealed　his　entire　soul　too　easily。　At　twenty…five；　he　was　an　eager　and　innocent　boy。
　
　'〃What　do　you　want　with　a　suffragette　for　a　wife？〃　　she　asked。〃　With　an　explorer？　You　know　I　could　very　well　be　an　explorer；　or　an　archaeologist。　I　wish　I　was　in　Egypt　with　Father　right　now。〃
　
　〃Dearest；　we'll　go　there。　Only　marry　me　before　we　go。〃
　
　He　leaned　forward　as　if　he　meant　to　lass　her。　And　she　moved　back　a　step；　the　waltz　carrying　them　almost　recklessly　fast；　so　that　for　a　moment　she　felt　light…headed　and　almost　as　if　she　were　truly　in　love。
　
　〃What　can　I　do　to　win　you；　Julie？〃　　he　whispered　in　her　ear。〃　I'll　bring　the　Great　Pyramids　to　London。〃
　
　〃Alex；　you　won　me　a　long　time　ago；〃　　she　said；　smiling。　But
　
　that　was　a　lie；　wasn't　it？　There　was　something　truly　terrible　about　this　moment…about　the　music　with　its　lovely　pelling　rhythm；　and　the　desperate　look　on　Alex's　face。
　
　〃The　simple　truth　is　。。。　I　don't　want　to　be　married。　Not　yet。〃　　And　perhaps　not　at　all？
　
　He　didn't　answer　her。　She'd　been　too　blunt；　too　much　to　the　point。　She　knew　that　sudden　shrinking。　It　wasn't　unmanly；　on　the　contrary；　it　was　gentlemanly。　She　had　hurt　him；　and　when　he　smiled　again　now；　there　was　a　sweetness　and　a　courage　in　it　that　touched　her　and　made　her　feel　all　the　more　sad。
　
　〃Father　will　be　back　in　a　few　months；　Alex。　We'll　all　talk　then。　Marriage；　the　future；　the　rights　of　women；　married　and　unmarried；　and　the　possibility　that　you　deserve　far　better　than　a　modern　woman　like　me　who's　very　likely　to　turn　your　hair　grey　within　the　first　year　and　send　you　running　into　the　arms　of　an　old…fashioned　mistress。〃
　
　〃Oh；　how　you　love　to　be　shocking；〃　　he　said。〃　And　I　love　to　be　shocked。〃
　
　〃But　do　you；　dearest；　really　love　to　be　shocked？〃
　
　Suddenly　he　did　kiss　her。　They　had　stopped　in　the　middle　of　the　dance　floor；　other　couples　swirling　around　them　as　the　music　swept　on。　He　kissed　her　and　she　allowed　it；　yielding　to　him　pletely　as　if　she　must　somehow　love　him；　must　somehow　meet　him　halfway。
　
　It　didn't　matter　that　others　must　be　looking　at　them。　It　didn't　matter　that　his　hands　were　trembling　as　he　held　her。
　
　What　mattered　was　that；　though　she　loved　him　terribly；　it　was　not　enough。
　
　It　was　cool　now。　There　was　noise　out　there；　cars　arriving。　The　braying　of　a　donkey；　and　the　sharp　high…pitched　sound　of　a　woman　laughing；　an　American　woman；　who　had　driven　all　the　way　from　Cairo　as　soon　as　she　had　heard。
　
　Lawrence　and　Samir　sat　together　in　their　camp　chairs　at　the　ancient　writing　table；　with　the　papyri　spread　out　before　them。
　
　Careful　not　to　put　his　full　weight　on　the　fragile　piece　of　furniture；　Lawrence　hastily　scribbled　his　translations　in　his　leather…bound　book。
　
　Now　and　then　he　glanced　over　his　shoulder　at　the　mummy；　the　great　King　who　for　all　die　world　looked　as　if　he　merely　slept。　Ramses　the　Immortal！　The　very　idea　inflamed　Lawrence。　He　knew　that　he　would　be　in　this　strange　chamber　until　well　after　dawn。
　
　〃But　it　must　be　a　hoax；〃　　Samir　said。〃　Ramses　the　Great　guarding　the　royal　families　of　Egypt　for　a　thousand　years。　The　lover　of　Cleopatra？〃
　
　〃Ah；　but　it　makes　sublime　sense！〃　　Lawrence　replied。　He　set　down　the　pen　for　a　moment；　staring　at　the　papyri。　How　his　eyes　ached。〃　If　any　woman　could　have　driven　an　immortal　man　to　entomb　himself；　Cleopatra　would　be　that　woman。〃
　
　He　looked　at　the　marble　bust　before　him。　Lovingly　he　stroked　Cleopatra's　smooth　white　cheek。　Yes；　Lawrence　could　believe　it。　Cleopatra；　beloved　of　Julius　Caesar　and　beloved　of　Mark　Antony；　Cleopatra；　who　had　held　out　against　the　Roman　conquest　of　Egypt　far　longer　than　anyone　dreamed　possible；　Cleopatra；　the　last　ruler　of　Egypt　in　the　ancient　world。　But　the　story…he　must　resume　his　translation。。。
　
　Samir　rose　and　stretched　uneasily。　Lawrence　watched　him　move　towards　the　mummy。　What　was　he　doing？　Examining　the　wrappings　over　the　fingers；　examining　the　brilliant　scarab　ring　so　clearly　visible　on　the　right　hand？　Now　mat　was　a　nineteenth…dynasty　treasure；　no　one　could　deny　it；　Lawrence　thought。
　
　Lawrence　closed　his　eyes　and　massaged　his　eyelids　gently。　Then　he　opened　them；　focusing　on　the　papyrus　before　him　again。
　
　〃Samir；　I　tell　you；　the　fellow　is　convincing　me。　Such　a　mand　of　languages　would　dazzle　anyone。　And　his　philosophical　perspective　is　quite　as　modern　as　my　own。〃　　He　reached　for　the　older　document；　which　he　had　examined　earlier。〃　And　this；　Samir；　I　want　you　to　examine　it。　This　is　none　other　than　a　letter　from　Cleopatra　to　Ramses。〃
　
　〃A　hoax；　Lawrence。　Some　sort　of　little　Roman　joke。〃
　
　〃No；　my　friend；　nothing　of　the　kind。　She　wrote　this　letter　from　Rome　when　Caesar　was　assassinated！　She　told　Ramses　she　was　ing　home　to　him；　and　to　Egypt。〃
　
　He　laid　the　letter　aside。　When　Samir　had　time　he　would　see　for　himself　what　these　documents　contained。　All　the　world　would　see。　He　turned　back　to　the　original　papyrus。
　
　〃But　listen　to　this；　Samir…Ramses'　last　thoughts：　'The　Romans　can　not　be　condemned　for　the　conquest　of　Egypt；　we　were　conquered　by　time　itself　in　the　end。　And　all　the　wonders　of　this　brave　new　century　should　draw　me　from　my　grief　and　yet　I　can　not　heal　my　heart；　and　so　the　mind　suffers；　the　mind　closes　as　if　it　were　a　flower　without　sun。'〃
　
　Samir　was　still　looking　at　the　mummy；　looking　at　the　ring。〃　Another　reference　to　the　sun。　Again　and　again　the　sun。〃　　He　turned　to　Lawrence。〃　But　surely　you　don't　believe　it…！〃
　
　〃Samir；　if　you　can　believe　in　the　curse；　why　can't　you　believe　in　an　immortal　man？〃
　
　〃Lawrence；　you　play　with　me。　I　have　seen　the　workings　of　many　a　curse；　my　friend。　But　an　immortal　man　who　lived　in　Athens　under　Pericles　and　Rome　under　the　Republic　and　Carthage　under　Hannibal？　A　man　who　taught　Cleopatra　the　history　of　Egypt？　Of　this　I　know　nothing　at　all。〃
　
　〃Listen　again；　Samir：　'Her　beauty　shall　forever　haunt　me；　as　well　as　her　courage　and　her　frivolity；　her　passion　for　life；　which　seemed　inhuman　in　its　intensity　while　being　only　human　after　all。'〃
　
　Samir　made　no　answer。　His　eyes　were　fixed　on　the　mummy　again；　as　if　he　could　not　stop　looking　at　it。　Lawrence　understood　perfectly；　which　is　why　he　sat　with　his　back　to　the　thing　in　order　to　read　the　papyrus；　so　that　he　would　get　the　crucial　work　done。
　
　〃Lawrence；　this　mummy　is　as　dead　as　any　I　have　ever　seen　in　the　Cairo　Museum。　A　storyteller；　that　is　what　the　man　was。　Yet　these　rings。〃
　
　〃Yes；　my　friend；　I　observed　it　very　carefully　earlier；　it　is　the　cartouche　of　Ramses　the　Great；　and　so　we　have　not　merely　a　storyteller　but　a　collector　of　antiquities。　Is　that　what　you　want　me　to　believe？〃
　
　But　what　did　Lawrence　believe？　He　sat　back　against　the　sagging　canvas　of　the　camp　chair　and　let　his　eyes　drift　over　the　contents　of　this　strange　room。　Then　again　he　translated　from　the　scroll。
　
　〃　'And　so　I　retreat　to　this　isolated　chamber；　and　now　my　library　shall　bee　my　tomb。　My　servants　shall　anoint　。my　body　and　wrap　it　in　fine　funerary　linen　as　was　the　custom　of　my　time　now　so　long　forgotten。　But　no　knife　shall　touch　me。　No　embalmer　shall　extract　the　heart　and　brain　from　my　immortal　form。〃
　
　A　euphoria　overcame　Lawrence　suddenly；　or　was　it　a　state　of　waking　dream？　This　voice…it　seemed　so　real　to　him；　he　fed　the　personality；　as　one　never　did　with　the　ancient　Egyptians。　Ah；　but　of　course；　this　was　an　immortal　man。。。
　
　Elliott　was　getting　drunk；　but　no　one　knew　it。　Except　Elliott；　who　leane