anner.themummy-第24节

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　〃Well；　I　have　a　little　story　to　tell　you；〃　　Elliott　said。〃　According　to　our　mutual　friend　and　acquaintance　Henry　Stratford；　the　mummy　is　quite　alive。　This　very　morning　he　stepped　out　of　his　coffin；　crossed　Lawrence's　library　and　tried　to　strangle　Henry　in　the　drawing　room。　Henry　was　lucky　to　escape　with　his　life。〃
　
　For　a　moment　Samir　didn't　respond　at　all。　It　was　as　if　he　hadn't　heard。　Then　softly；〃　You　are　joking　with　me；　Lord　Rutherford？〃
　
　Elliott　laughed。〃　No。　I　am　not　joking；　Mr。　Ibrahaim。　And　I　am　willing　to　wager　that　Henry　Stratford　wasn't　joking　when　he　told　me　the　story　this　very　morning。　In　fact；　I'm　certain　he　wasn't　joking。　He　was　badly　shaken；　damn　near　hysterical。　But　joking；　no。〃
　
　Silence。　This　is　what　it　means　to　be　speechless；　Elliott　thought　as　he　looked　at　Samir。
　
　〃You　don't　have　a　cigarette；　do　you；　Samir？〃　　he　asked。
　
　Without　taking　his　eyes　off　Elliott；　Samir　opened　a　small　delicately　carved　ivory　box。　Egyptian　cigarettes。　Perfectly　delicious。　Samir　lifted　the　gold　lighter　and　handed　it　to　Elliott。
　
　〃Thank　you。　I　might　add　。。。　for　I　suppose　you　are　wondering　。。。　this　mummy　did　not　hurt　Julie　at　all。　And　has　bee　in　fact　her　honoured　guest…'　*
　
　〃Lord　Rutherford　。。。〃
　
　〃I'm　perfectly　serious。　My　son；　Alex；　went　there　immediately。　As　a　matter　of　fact；　there　were　police　on　the　scene　even　before　that。　It　seems　an　Egyptologist　is　staying　at　the　Stratford　house；　a　Mr。　Reginald　Ramsey；　and　that　Julie　is　being　quite　emphatic　that　she　must　take　her　guest　about　London。　She　has　no　time　to　discuss　Henry's　inane　hallucinations。　And　Henry；　who　had　seen　this　Egyptologist；　maintains　that　he　is　in　fact　the　mummy；　walking　about　in　Lawrence's　clothes。〃
　
　Elliott　lit　the　cigarette　and　inhaled　deeply。
　
　〃You're　going　to　hear　about　all　this　soon　enough　from　others；〃　　he　said　casually。〃　The　reporters　were　there　in　force。　'Mummy　Walks　in　Mayfair。'〃　He　shrugged。
　
　Samir　was　clearly　more　stunned　than　amused。　He　appeared　positively　distressed。
　
　〃You'll　forgive　me；〃　　he　said；〃　but　I　don't　have　a　very　high　opinion　of　Lawrence's　nephew；　Henry。〃
　
　〃Of　course　not；　how　could　you？〃
　
　〃This　Egyptologist。　You　said　that　his　name　was　Reginald　Ramsey。　I　have　never　heard　of　an　Egyptologist　by　that　name。〃
　
　〃Of　course　you　haven't。　And　you　know　them　all；　don't　you？　From　Cairo　to　London　or　Manchester；　or　Berlin　or　New　York。〃
　
　〃I　think　I　do。〃
　
　〃So　none　of　this　makes　sense。〃
　
　〃Not　a　particle　of　sense。〃
　
　〃Unless；　of　course；　we　entertain　for　a　moment　the　notion　that　this　mummy　is　immortal。　Then　everything　falls　into　place。〃
　
　〃But　you　don't　believe…〃　Samir　stopped。　The　distress　was　plain　again。　In　fact；　it　had　worsened。
　
　〃Yes？〃
　
　〃This　is　preposterous；〃　　Samir　murmured。〃　Lawrence　died　of　a　heart　attack　in　that　tomb。　This　thing　did　not　kill　him！　This　is　madness。〃
　
　〃Was　there　the　slightest　evidence　of　violence？〃
　
　〃Evidence？　No。　But　there　was　a　feeling　about　that　tomb；　and　the　curses　written　all　over　the　mummy　case。　The　thing　wanted　to　be　left　in　peace。　The　sun。　It　did　not　want　the　sun。　But　it　was　asking　to　be　left　in　peace。　That　is　what　the　dead　always　want。〃
　
　〃Do　they？〃　　Elliott　asked。〃　If　I　were　dead；　I'm　not　sure　I　would　want　to　be　at　peace。　If　it　meant　being　purely　dead；　that　is。〃
　
　〃We're　allowing　our　imaginations　to　run　away　with　us；　Lord　Rutherford。　Besides　。。。　Henry　Stratford　was　in　the　tomb　when　Lawrence　died！〃
　
　〃Hmmmmm。　That's　true。　And　Henry　didn't　see　our　ragged；　rotted　friend　moving　about　until　this　morning。〃
　
　〃I　do　not　like　this　story。　I　do　not　like　it　at　all。　I　do　not　like　that　Miss　Stratford　is　alone　in　the　house　with　these　relics。〃
　
　〃Perhaps　the　museum　should　look　into　it　further；〃　　Elliott　said。〃　Check　up　on　the　mummy。　After　all；　the　thing　is　extremely　valuable。〃
　
　Samir　didn't　answer。　He　had　sunk　into　that　speechless　state　again；　staring　at　the　desk　before　him。
　
　Elliott　took　hold　of　his　cane　firmly　and　rose　to　his　feet。　He　was　getting　quite　good　at　hiding　the　inevitable　disfort　of　that　simple　operation。　But　he　had　to　stand　quite　still　for　a　few　moments　to　allow　the　pain　to　stop。　He　crushed　out　his　cigarette　slowly。
　
　〃Thank　you；　Samir。　It's　been　a　most　interesting　conversation。〃
　
　Samir　looked　up　as　if　waking　from　a　dream。
　
　〃What　the　hell　do　you　think　is　happening；　Lord　Rutherford！〃　　Slowly　he　rose　to　his　feet。
　
　〃You　want　my　frank　opinion　of　the　moment？〃
　
　〃Well；　yes；　I　do。〃
　
　〃Ramses　the　Second　is　an　immortal　man。　He　found　some　secret　in　ancient　times；　some　pound　which　rendered　him　immortal。　And　he　is　walking　about　London　with　Julie　right　now。〃
　
　〃You're　not　serious。〃
　
　〃Yes；　I　am；〃　　said　Elliott。〃　But　then　I　also　believe　in　ghosts；　and　spirits；　and　bad　luck；　I　throw　salt　over　my　shoulder　and　touch　wood　all　the　time。　I　should　be　surprised…no；　flabber…easted…if　any　of　this　turned　out　to　be　true；　you　understand。　But　I　believe　it。　At　the　moment；　I　believe　it。　And　I'll　tell　you　why。　It's　the　only　explanation　for　what's　happened　that　makes　any　sense。〃
　
　Speechless　again。
　
　Elliott　smiled。　He　slipped　on　his　gloves；　took　hold　of　his　walking　stick　and　left　the　office　as　if　every　step　were　not　causing　him　pain。
　
　THIS　WAS　the　great　adventure　of　her　life。　Nothing　after　could　ever　equal　it；　of　that　she　was　sure。　And　how　utterly　surprising　that　it　should　be　in　London；　at　midday；　rushing　to　and　fro　amid　the　noisy；　crowded　streets　she'd　known　all　her　life。
　
　Never　before　had　the　vast；　grimy　city　seemed　magical　to　her。　But　it　did　now。　And　how　did　he　perceive　it…this　overgrown　metropolis；　with　its　towering　brick　buildings；　its　rumbling　trams　and　belching　motor　cars；　and　hordes　of　dark　horse…drawn　carriages　and　cabs　choking　every　street。　What　was　he　to　make　of　the　never…ending　advertising；　signs　of　all　sizes　and　descriptions　offering　goods；　services；　directions　and　advice？　Were　the　dim　department　stores　with　their　stacks　of　ready…made　clothing　ugly　to　him？　What　did　he　make　of　the　little　shops　where　the　electric　lights　burned　all　day　long　because　the　streets　themselves　were　too　smoky　and　dark　to　admit　the　natural　light　of　the　daytime　sky？
　
　He　loved　it。　He　embraced　it。　Nothing　frightened　him　or　repelled　him。　He　rushed　off　the　kerb　to　lay　hands　on　the　motor　cars　as　they　idled。　He　scampered　up　the　winding　steps　of　the　omnibuses　to　see　from　the　top　deck。　Into　the　telegraph　office；　he　sped　to　study　the　young　secretary　at　her　typewriter。　And　she；　at　once　charmed　by　this　blue…eyed　giant　of　a　man　bending　over　her；　sat　back　to　let　him　strike　the　keys　with　his　own　deft　fingers；　which　he　did；　at　once　pounding　out　Latin　sentences　which　sent　him　into　peals　of　laughter　until　he　could　not　go　on。
　
　To　the　offices　of　The　Times；　Julie　spirited　him。　He　must　see　the　giant　printing　presses；　smell　the　black　ink；　hear　the　deafening　noise　that　filled　those　immense　rooms。　He　must　make　the　connection　among　all　these　inventions。　He　must　see　how　simple　it　all　was。
　
　She　watched　as　he　charmed　people　everywhere　that　they　went。　Men　and　women　deferred　to　him；　as　if　they　knew　instinctively　that　he　was　royalty。　His　bearing；　his　great　strides；　his　radiant　smile；　subdued　those　at　whom　he　stared　fixedly；　those　whose　hands　he　hastily　clasped；　those　whose　conversation　or　casual　words　he　listened　to；　as　if　receiving　a　secret　message　which　must　not　be　misunderstood。
　
　There　were　philosophical　words　to　describe　his　state　of　being；　surely；　but　Julie　could　not　think　what　they　were。　She　only　knew　that　he　took　joy　in　tilings；　that　the　steam　shovel　and　the　steam　roller　failed　to　terrify　him　because　he　anticipated　shocks　and　surprises　and　wanted　only　to　prehend。
　
　So　many　questions　to　ask　him。　So　many　concepts　she　struggled　to　express。　That　was　the　hardest　part。　Concepts。
　
　But　talk　of　abstractions　became　easier　by　the　hour。　He　was　learning　English　with　dizzying　speed。
　
　〃Name！〃　　he　would　say　to　her　if　she　ceased　for　so　much　as　a　minute　her　endless　mentary。〃　Language　is　names；　Julie。　Names　for　people；　objects；　what　we　feel。〃　　He　hammered　on　his　breast　as　he　said　the　last　words。　The　Latin　quare；　quid；　quo；　qui　had　dropped　pletely　from　his　speech　by　midafternoon。
　
　〃English　is　old；　Julie。　Tongue　of　barbarians　from　my　time；　and　now　filled　with　Latin。　You　hear　the　Latin？　What　is　that；　Julie！　Explain　this　to　me！〃
　
　〃But　there　is　no　order　to　what　I　am　teaching　you；〃　　she　said。　She　wanted　to　explain　about　printing；　relate　it　to　the　stamping　of　coins。
　
　〃I　make　the　order　later；〃　　he　assured　her。　He　was　too　busy　now　ducking　into　the　back　of　bakers　and　soup　kitchens；　into　the　shoemaker's　and　the　milliner's；　and　studying　the　refuse　thrown　in　the　alleyways；　and　eyeing　the　paper　parcels　which　people　carried；　and　staring　at　women's　clothes。
　
　And　staring　at　the　women；　too。
　
　If　that　isn't　lust；　I　am　no　judge　of　character；　Julie　thought。　He　would　have　frightened　the　women　had　he　not　been　so　expensively　dressed；　and　oddly　self…possessed。　In　fact；　his　whole　manner　of　standing；　gesturing；　speaking；　had　a　great　pelling　force　to　it。　This　is　a　King；　she　thought；　out　of　time　and　place；　yet　nevertheless　a　King。
　
　She　steered　him　in