anner.themummy-第4节

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　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　leaned　on　the　gilded　rail　of　the　half…landing　again　in　a　rather　casual　manner　that　he　almost　never　assumed。　There　was　a　style　to　even　his　smallest　gestures；　and　now　he　carelessly　violated　it；　keenly　aware　that　no　one　would　notice；　no　one　would　take　offense。
　
　Ah；　such　a　world；　made　up　almost　wholly　of　subtleties。　What　a　horror。　And　he　must　think　of　this　marriage；　he　must　talk　of　this　marriage；　he　must　do　something　about　the　sad　spectacle　of　his　son；　quite　obviously　defeated；　who；　after　watching　Julie　dance　with　another；　came　now　up　the　marble　stairs。
　
　〃I'm　asking　you　to　trust　in　me；〃　　Randolph　was　saying。〃　I　guarantee　this　marriage。　All　it　takes　is　a　little　time。〃
　
　〃Surely　you　don't　think　I　enjoy　pressing　you；〃　　Elliott　answered。　Thick…tongued。　Drunk　all　right。〃　I'm　much　more　fortable　in　a　dream　world；　Randolph；　where　money　simply　doesn't　exist。　But　the　fact　is；　we　cannot　afford　such　reverie；　either　of　us。　This　marriage　is　essential　for　us　both。〃
　
　〃Then　I　shall　go　to　see　Lawrence　myself。〃
　
　Elliott　turned　to　see　his　son　only　a　few　steps　away；　waiting　like　a　schoolboy　for　the　adults　to　acknowledge　him。
　
　〃Father；　I　badly　need　consolation；〃　　Alex　said。
　
　〃What　you　need　is　courage；　young　man；〃　　Randolph　said　crossly。〃　Don't　tell　me　you've　taken　no　for　an　answer　again。〃
　
　Alex　took　a　glass　of　champagne　from　the　passing　waiter。
　
　〃She　loves　me。　She　loves　me　not；〃　　he　said　softly。〃　The　simple　fact　is　I　cannot　live　without　her。　She's　driving　me　mad。〃
　
　〃Of　course　you　cannot。〃　　Elliott　laughed　gently。〃　Now；　look。　That　clumsy　young　man　down　there　is　stepping　on　her　feet。　I'm　sure　she'd　be　very　grateful　if　you　came　to　her　rescue　at　once。〃
　
　Alex　nodded；　scarcely　noticing　as　his　father　took　the　half…full　glass　from　him　and　drank　down　the　champagne。　He　straightened　his　shoulders　and　headed　back　to　the　dance　floor。　Such　a　perfect　picture。
　
　〃The　puzzling　part　is　this；〃　　Randolph　said　under　his　breath。〃　She　loves　him。　She　always　has。〃
　
　〃Yes；　but　she's　like　her　father。　She　loves　her　freedom。　And　frankly　I　don't　blame　her。　In　a　way　she's　too　much　for　Alex。　But　he'd　make　her　happy；　I　know　that　he　would。〃
　
　〃Of　course。〃
　
　〃And　she　would　make　him　supremely　happy；　and　perhaps　no　one　else　ever　will。〃
　
　〃Nonsense；〃　　Randolph　said。〃　Any　young　woman　in　London
　
　would　give　her　eyeteeth　for　the　chance　to　make　Alex　happy。　The　eighteenth　Earl　of　Rutherford？〃
　
　〃Is　that　really　so　important？　Our　titles；　our　money；　the　endless　maintenance　of　our　decorative　and　tiresome　little　world？〃　　Elliott　glanced　around　the　ballroom。　This　was　that　lucid　and　dangerous　state　with　drinking；　when　everything　began　to　shimmer；　when　there　was　meaning　in　the　grain　of　the　marble；　when　one　could　make　the　most　offensive　speeches。〃　I　wonder　sometimes　if　I　should　be　in　Egypt　with　Lawrence。　And　if　Alex　shouldn't　peddle　his　beloved　title　to　someone　else。〃
　
　He　could　see　the　panic　in　Randolph's　eyes。　Dear　God；　what　did　the　title　mean　to　these　merchant　princes；　these　businessmen　who　had　all　but　the　title？　It　wasn't　only　that　Alex　might　eventually　control　Julie；　and　thereby　control　the　Stratford　millions；　and　that　Alex　himself　would　be　far　easier　than　Julie　to　control。　It　was　the　prospect　of　true　nobility；　of　nieces　and　nephews　roaming　the　park　of　the　old　Rutherford　estate　in　Yorkshire；　of　that　miserable　Henry　Stratford　trading　on　the　alliance　in　every　despicable　way　that　he　could。
　
　〃We're　not　defeated　yet；　Elliott；〃　　Randolph　said。〃　And　I　rather　like　your　decorative　and　tiresome　little　world。　What　else　is　there　when　you　get　right　down　to　it？〃
　
　Elliott　smiled。　One　more　mouthful　of　champagne　and　he　must　tell　Randolph　what　else　there　was。　He　just　might。。。
　
　〃I　love　you；　fine　English；〃　　Malenka　said　to　him。　She　kissed　him；　then　helped　him　with　his　tie；　the　soft　touch　of　her　fingers　against　his　chin　making　the　hairs　rise　on　his　neck。
　
　What　lovely　fools　women　were；　Henry　Stratford　thought。　But　this　Egyptian　woman　he　had　enjoyed　more　than　most。　She　was　dark…skinned；　a　dancer　by　profession…a　quiet　and　luscious　beauty　with　whom　he　could　do　exactly　what　he　wanted。　You　never　knew　that　kind　of　freedom　with　an　English　whore。
　
　He　could　see　himself　settling　someday　in　an　Eastern　country　with　such　a　woman…free　of　all　British　respectability。　That　is；　after　he　had　made　his　fortune　at　the　tables…that　one　great　win　he　needed　to　put　him　quite　beyond　the　world's　reach。
　
　For　the　moment；　there　was　work　to　be　done。　The　crowd　around　the　tomb　had　doubled　in　size　since　last　evening。　And　the　trick　was　to　reach　his　uncle　Lawrence　before　the　man　was　swept　up　utterly　by　the　museum　people　and　the　authorities…to　reach　him　now　when　he　just　might　agree　to　anything　in　return　for　being　left　alone。
　
　〃Go　on；　dearest。〃　　He　kissed　Malenka　again　and　watched　her　wrap　the　dark　cloak　about　herself　and　hurry　to　the　waiting　car。　How　grateful　she　was　for　these　small　Western　luxuries。　Yes；　that　kind　of　woman。　Rather　than　Daisy；　his　London　mistress；　a　spoilt　and　demanding　creature　who　nevertheless　excited　him；　perhaps　because　she　was　so　difficult　to　please。
　
　He　took　one　last　swallow　of　Scotch；　picked　up　his　leather　briefcase；　and　left　the　tent。
　
　The　crowds　were　ghastly。　All　night　long　he'd　been　awakened　by　die　grind　and　huff　of　automobiles；　and　frenzied　voices。　And　now　the　heat　was　rising；　and　he　could　already　feel　sand　inside　his　shoes。
　
　How　he　loathed　Egypt。　How　he　loathed　these　desert　camps　and　the　filthy　camel…riding　Arabs；　and　the　lazy　dirty　servants。　How　he　loathed　his　uncle's　entire　world。
　
　And　there　was　Samir；　that　insolent；　irritating　assistant　who　fancied　himself　Lawrence's　social　equal；　trying　to　quiet　the　foolish　reporters。　Could　this　really　be　the　tomb　of　Ramses　II？　Would　Lawrence　grant　an　interview？
　
　Henry　didn't　give　a　damn。　He　pushed　past　the　men　who　were　guarding　the　entrance　to　the　tomb。
　
　〃Mr。　Stratford；　please；〃　　Samir　called　after　him。　A　lady　reporter　was　on　his　heels。〃　Let　your　uncle　alone　now；〃　　Samir　said　as　he　drew　closer。〃　Let　him　savor　his　find。〃
　
　〃The　hell　I　will。〃
　
　He　glared　at　the　guard　who　blocked　his　path。　The　man　moved。　Sa