anner.themummy-第50节

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enly　it　moved　over　the　edge　and　fell　to　the　floor　with　a　thud　at　his　feet。
　
　A　prayer　in　the　oldest　Egyptian　escaped　his　lips。　Gods　of　the　underworld；　forgive　my　blasphemy！　Trembling　violently；　he　resolved　to　pick　it　up；　but　he　could　not　bring　himself　to　do　it。
　
　Like　a　madman　he　looked　around　the　room。　The　food；　the　tray　of　food　that　was　always　there　for　him。　There　would　be　a　knife。　Quickly　he　found　it；　a　sharp　paring　knife；　and　grabbing　it　he　stabbed　the　hand　and　thrust　it　down　on　the　desk；　its　fingers　curling　as　if　reaching　for　the　very　blade。
　
　He　flattened　it　with　his　left　hand　and　then　stabbed　it　again　and　again；　and　finally　cut　the　tough　leathery　flesh　and　bones　into　pieces。　It　was　spurting　blood；　living　blood。　Ye　gods；　and　the　pieces　were　still　moving。　They　were　turning　pink；　the　color　of　healthy　flesh；　in　the　growing　light。
　
　He　hurried　into　the　little　bathroom；　gathered　up　a　towel　and　came　back；　and　scooped　all　the　bloody　fragments　into　it。　Then　closing　the　towel　over　them；　he　pounded　them　with　the　handle　of　the　knife；　and　men　with　the　heavy　base　of　the　lamp；　the　cord　of　which　he'd　ripped　from　the　socket。　He　could　still　feel　movement　in　the　bloody　mass。
　
　He　stood　there　weeping。　Oh；　Ramses；　you　fool！　Is　there　no　limit　to　your　folly！　Then　he　gathered　up　the　bundle；　ignoring　the　warmth　he　could　feel　through　the　cloth；　and　went　out　on　the　deck　and　emptied　the　towel　over　the　dark　river。
　
　In　an　instant　the　bloody　little　pieces　disappeared。　He　stood　there；　bathed　in　sweat；　the　bloody　towel　hanging　from　his　left　hand；　and　then　that　too　he　mitted　to　the　deep。　And　the　knife　as　well。　And　then　he　settled　back　against　the　wall；　peering　at　the　far　bank　of　golden　sand　and　the　distant　hills；　still　a　pale　violet　in　the　morning。
　
　The　years　dissolved。　He　heard　the　weeping　in　the　palace。　He　heard　his　steward　screaming　before　he　had　reached　the　throne　room　doors　and　forced　them　open。
　
　〃It's　killing　them；　my　King。　They　are　retching；　vomiting　it　up；　they　are　vomiting　blood　with　it。〃
　
　〃Gather　it　all　up；　burn　it！〃　　he'd　cried。〃　Every　tree；　every　bushel　of　grain！　Throw　it　into　the　river。〃
　
　Folly！　Disaster。
　
　But　he　had　been　only　a　man　of　his　time；　after　all。　What　had　the　magicians　known　of　cells　and　microscopes　and　true　medicine？
　
　Yet　he　couldn't　stop　hearing　those　cries；　cries　of　hundreds；　as　they　stumbled　out　of　the　houses；　as　they　came　into　the　public　square　before　the　palace。
　
　〃They　are　dying；　my　King。　It's　the　meat。　It　is　poisoning　them。〃
　
　〃Slay　the　remaining　animals。〃
　
　〃But；　my　King　。。。〃
　
　〃Chop　them　into　pieces；　do　you　hear？　Throw　them　into　the　river！〃
　
　He　looked　down　now　into　the　watery　depths。　Somewhere　far　upstream；　the　tiny　bits　and　pieces　of　the　hand　still　lived。　Somewhere　deep；　deep　in　the　muck　and　mire；　the　grain　lived。　The　bits　and　pieces　of　those　ancient　animals　lived！
　
　I　tell　you　it　is　a　horrible　secret；　a　secret　that　could　spelt　the　end　of　the　world。
　
　He　went　back　into　his　cabin；　and　bolting　the　door；　he　sank　down　in　the　chair　at　the　desk；　and　wept。
　
　It　was　noon　when　he　came　out　on　deck。　Julie　was　in　her　favourite　chair；　reading　that　ancient　history　which　was　so　full　of　lies　and　gaps　it　made　him　laugh。　She　was　scribbling　a　question　in　the　margin；　which　of　course　she　would　put　to　him；　and　he　would　answer。
　
　〃Ah；　you're　awake　at　last；〃　　she　said。　And　then　seeing　the　expression　on　his　face；　she　asked：〃　What　is　it？〃
　
　〃I'm　done　with　this　place。　I　want　to　visit　the　pyramids；　the　museum；　what　one　must　visit。　And　then　I　want　to　be　gone　from　here。〃
　
　〃Yes；　I　understand。〃　　She　motioned　for　him　to　take　the　chair　beside　her。〃　I　want　to　be　gone；　too；〃　　she　said。　She　gave　him　a　quick；　soft　kiss　on　the　lips。
　
　〃Ah；　do　that　again；〃　　he　said。〃　That　forts　me　mightily！〃
　
　She　kissed　him　twice；　slipping　her　warm　fingers　around　the　back　of　his　neck。
　
　〃We　won't　be　in　Cairo　more　than　a　few　days；　I　promise。〃
　
　〃A　few　days！　Can　we　not　take　a　motor　car　and　see　these　things；　or　better　yet；　simply　take　the　train　to　the　coast　and　be　done　with　it！〃
　
　She　looked　down。　She　sighed。〃　Ramses；〃　　she　said。〃　You　have　to　forgive　me。　But　Alex；　he　wants　badly　to　see　the　opera　in　Cairo。　And　so　does　Elliott。　I　more　or　less　promised　we　would。　。。。〃
　
　He　groaned。
　
　〃And　you　see；　I　want　to　tell　them　farewell　there。　That　I'm　not　going　home　to　England。　And　。。。　well；　I　need　the　time。〃　　She　studied　his　face。〃　Please？〃
　
　〃Of　course；〃　　he　said。〃　This　opera。　This　is　a　new　thing？　Something　I　should　see；　perhaps。〃
　
　〃Yes！〃　　she　said。〃　Well；　it's　an　Egyptian　story。　But　it　was　written　by　an　Italian　fifty　years　ago　and　especially　for　the　British　Opera　House　in　Cairo。　I　think　you'll　like　it。〃
　
　〃Many　instruments。〃
　
　〃Yes。〃　　She　laughed。〃　And　many　voices！〃
　
　〃All　right。　I　give　in。〃　　He　bent　forward；　kissing　her　cheek；　and　then　her　throat。〃　And　then　you　are　mine；　my　beauty…mine　alone？〃
　
　〃Yes；　on　my　soul；〃　　she　whispered。
　
　That　night　when　he　declined　to　go　ashore　at　Luxor　again；　the　Earl　asked　him　if　his　trip　to　Egypt　had　been　a　success；　if　he　had　found　what　he　wanted。
　
　〃I　think　I　did；〃　　he　said；　scarcely　looking　up　from　his　book　of　maps　and　countries。〃　I　think　I　found　the　future。〃
　
　THIS　HAD　been　a　Mameluke　house；　a　little　palace　of　sorts；　and　Henry　liked　it　well　enough　though　he　wasn't　entirely　sure　what　a　Mameluke　was　except　they　had　once　been　rulers　of　Egypt。
　
　Well；　they　could　have　it；　as　far　as　he　was　concerned。　But　for　the　moment　he　was　enjoying　himself　and　had　been　for　days；　and　in　this　little　house　crammed　with　Eastern　exotica　and　big　fortable　old　pieces　of　Victorian　furniture；　he　had　just　about　everything　he　wanted。
　
　Malenka　kept　him　fed　on　delicious　spiced　dishes　that　for　some　reason　he　craved　when　he　was　sick　from　drink；　and　which　enticed　him　even　when　he　was　very　drunk　and　all　other　food　tasted　like　gruel　to　him。
　
　And　she　kept　him　in　booze；　taking　his　winnings　into　British　Cairo　and　ing　back　with　his　favourite　gin；　Scotch；　and　brandy。
　
　And　his　winnings　had　been　good　for　a　straight　ten　days；　as　he　kept　the　card　game　going　from　noon　until　late　into　the　evening。　So　easy　to　bluff　these　Americans　who　thought　all　British　were　sissies。　The　Frenchman　he　had　to　watch；　that　son　of　a　bitch　was　mean。　But　he　didn't　cheat。　And　he　paid　his　debts　in　full；　though　where　such　a　disreputable　man　got　the　money　Henry　couldn't　imagine。
　
　At　night；　he　and　Malenka　made　love　in　the　big　Victorian　bed；　which　she　loved；　she　thought　that　was　very　high　class；　that　bed；　with　its　mahogany　headboard　and　yards　of　mosquito　netting。　So　let　her　have　her　little　dreams。　For　the　moment；　he　loved　her。　He　didn't　care　if　he　never　laid　eyes　on　Daisy　Banker　again。　In　fact；　he　had　more　or　less　made　up　his　mind　that　he　wasn't　going　back　to　England。
　
　As　soon　as　Julie　and　her　escorts　arrived；　he　was　heading　on　to　America。　It　had　even　occurred　to　him　that　his　father　might　go　for　that　idea；　might　settle　an　ine　on　him　with　the　understanding　mat　he　stay　over　there；　in　New　York；　or　even　in　California。
　
　San　Francisco；　now　that　was　a　city　that　had　an　allure　for　him。　They'd　almost　pletely　rebuilt　it　since　the　earthquake。　And　he　had　a　feeling　he　might　do　well　out　there；　away　from　all　that　he　had　e　to　loathe　in　England。　If　he　could　take　Malenka　with　him；　mat　wouldn't　be　half…bad　either。　And　out　there　in　California；　who　would　give　a　damn　that　her　skin　was　darker　than　his？
　
　Her　skin。　He　loved　Malenka's　skin。　Smoky；　hot　Malenka。　A　few　times　he'd　ventured　out　of　this　cluttered　little　house　and　gone　to　see　her　dance　at　the　European　club。　He　liked　it。　Who　knows？　Maybe　she　might　be　a　celebrity　in　California；　with　him　managing　her；　of　course。　That　might　bring　in　a　little　money；　and　what　woman　wouldn't　want　to　leave　this　filthy　hellhole　of　a　city　for　America？　She　was　already　learning　English　from　the　gramophone；　playing　records　she　had　bought　in　the　British　sector　on　her　own。
　
　It　made　him　laugh　to　hear　her　repeating　the　inane　phrases：〃　May　I　offer　you　some　sugar？　May　I　offer　you　some　cream？〃　　She　spoke　well　enough　as　it　was。　And　she　was　clever　about　money；　that　was　obvious。　Or　she　wouldn't　have　managed　to　keep　this　house；　after　her　half…breed　brother　left　it　to　her。
　
　Trouble　was　his　father　had　to　be　handled　carefully。　That　was　why　he　hadn't　left　Cairo　already。　Because　his　father　had　to　believe　he　was　still　with　Julie；　and　looking　after　her；　and　all　that　utter　rot。　He'd　cabled　his　father　for　more　money　days　ago；　with　some　silly　message　that　Julie　was　quite　all　right。　But　surely　he　did　not　have　to　follow　her　back　to　London。　That　was　preposterous。　He　had　to　work　something　out。
　
　Of　course　there　was　no　rush　to　leave　here；　really。　The　game　was　going　splendidly　for　the　eleventh　day。
　
　And　it　had　been　some　time　since　he'd　set　foot　out　of　doors；　except　of　course　to　take　his　breakfast　in　the　courtyard。　He　liked　the　courtyard。　He　liked　the　world　being　pletely　shut　out。　He
　
　liked　the　little　pond；　and　the　tile；　and　even　that　screeching　parrot　of　Malenka's；　that　African　grey…the　ugliest　bird　he'd　ever　seen…　wasn't　entirely　uninteresting。
　
　The　whole　place　had　a　lush；　overblown　q