anner.themummy-第56节

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And　then；　near　to　collapse　as　ever　he'd　been　in　his　life；　he　slumped　down　beside　the　hunched　figure　and　told　the　driver　where　he　must　go　with　his　last　breath。
　
　The　cab　shot　forward；　the　driver　shouting　at　the　pedestrians　and　cracking　his　whip。　The　poor　creature　beside　him　cried　brokenheartedly；　drawing　the　veil　pletely　over　her　face。
　
　He　embraced　her；　he　ignored　the　cold　hard　bone　he　could　feel　through　the　thin　black　cloth。　He　held　tight　to　her　and；　gradually　catching　his　breath；　told　her　again　in　Latin　that　he　would　care　for　her；　that　he　was　her　friend。
　
　As　the　cab　sped　out　of　the　British　district；　he　tried　to　think。　But　shocked　and　in　pain；　he　could　achieve　no　rational　explanation　for　himself　for　what　he'd　witnessed　or　what　he'd　done。　He　only　knew　on　some　inchoate　level　that　he'd　seen　a　miracle　and　a　murder；　and　that　the　former　meant　infinitely　more　to　him　than　the　latter；　and　he　was　set　now　upon　an　irrevocable　course。
　
　Julie　was　only　half…awake。　Surely　she　was　misunderstanding　the　British　official　who　stood　in　the　door。
　
　〃Arrested？　For　breaking　into　the　museum？　I　don't　believe　it。〃
　
　〃Miss　Stratford；　he's　been　wounded；　badly。　There　seems　to　be　some　confusion。〃
　
　〃What　confusion？〃
　
　The　doctor　was　furious。　If　the　man　was　badly　wounded；　he　should　be　in　hospital；　not　in　the　back　of　the　jail。
　
　〃Make　way；〃　　he　shouted　to　the　uniformed　men　in　front　of　him。〃　What　in　God's　name　is　this；　a　firing　squad？〃
　
　No　less　than　twenty　rifles　were　pointed　at　the　tall　blue…eyed　man　standing　against　the　wall。　Dried　blood　covered　the　man's　shirt。　The　shoulder　had　been　blown　away　from　his　coat。　There　was　dried　blood　there　as　well。　Panic…stricken；　he　stared　at　the　doctor。
　
　〃e　no　closer！〃　　he　cried。〃　You　will　not　examine　me。　You　will　not　touch　me　with　your　medical　instruments。　I　am　unharmed　and　I　want　to　leave　this　place。〃
　
　〃Five　bullets；〃　　whispered　the　officer　in　the　doctor's　ear。〃　I　saw　the　wounds；　I　tell　you。　He　can't　possibly　have　withstood　such　a…〃
　
　〃Let　me　have　a　look　at　you！〃　The　doctor　attempted　to　move　in。
　
　Instantly　the　man's　fist　shot　towards　him；　knocking　the　black　bag　to　the　ceiling。　One　of　the　rifles　went　off　as　the　man　charged　the　policemen；　slamming　several　of　them　backwards；　against　the　wall。　The　doctor　fell　to　his　knees。　His　glasses　fell　on　the　ground　before　him。　He　felt　the　heel　of　a　boot　e　down　on　his　hand　as　the　soldiers　stampeded　into　the　hall。
　
　Again　the　rifle　cracked。　Shouts　and　curses　in　Egyptian。　Where　were　his　glasses！　He　must　find　his　glasses。
　
　Suddenly　someone　was　helping　him　to　his　feet。　The　glasses　were　in　his　hand　and　quickly　he　put　them　on。
　
　A　civilized　English　face　came　into　focus。
　
　〃Are　you　all　right？〃
　
　〃What　the　devil's　happened？　Where　is　he？　Did　they　shoot　him　again？〃
　
　〃The　man's　as　strong　as　a　bull。　He　broke　the　back　door　out；　bars　and　all。　He's　escaped。〃
　
　Thank　God；　Alex　was　with　her。　No　one　could　find　Elliott。　Samir　had　gone　on　to　the　police　station　to　find　out　what　he　could。　As　she　and　Alex　were　ushered　into　the　office；　she　saw　with　relief　that　it　was　the　governor's　assistant。　Miles　Winthrop；　and　not　the　governor　himself。　Miles　had　gone　to　school　with　Alex。　Julie　had　known　him　since　he　was　a　little　boy。
　
　〃Miles；　this　is　a　misunderstanding；〃　　Alex　said。〃　It　has　to　be。〃
　
　〃Miles；〃　　she　said。〃　Do　you　think　you　can　get　him　released？〃
　
　〃Julie；　the　situation　is　more　plicated　than　we　realized。　First　off；　the　Egyptians　aren't　too　fond　of　those　who　break　into　their　world…famous　museum。　But　now　there's　a　theft　and　a　murder　to　be　considered　as　well。〃
　
　〃What　are　you　talking　about！〃　　Julie　whispered。
　
　〃Miles；　Ramsey　couldn't　murder　anybody；〃　　Alex　said。〃　That's　patently　absurd。〃
　
　〃I　hope　you're　right；　Alex。　But　there's　a　maid　dead　in　the　museum　with　her　neck　broken。　And　a　mummy's　been　stolen　from　a　display　case　on　the　second　floor。　And　your　friend　has　escaped　the　jail。　Now；　tell　me；　both　of　you。　How　well　do　you　really　know　this　man？〃
　
　Running　at　full　sprint　across　the　roof；　he　took　the　alleyway　before　him　in　one　leap。　Within　seconds；　he　covered　another　roof；　and　dropped　down　to　another；　and　then　cut　across　another　narrow　street。
　
　Only　then　did　he　look　back。　His　pursuers　had　lost　him。　He　could　hear　the　faint；　very　distant　crack　of　the　rifle。　Perhaps　they　were　shooting　at　each　other。　He　did　not　care。
　
　He　dropped　down　into　the　street　and　ran。　Within　a　short　distance；　the　street　became　an　alley。　The　houses　hemming　him　in　had　high　windows　covered　over　with　wooden　screens。　He　saw　no　more　British　shops　or　English　signs。　Only　Egyptians　passed　him；　and　for　the　most　part　they　were　old　women　in　pairs；　with　veils　over　their　faces　and　their　hair。　They　averted　their　eyes　at　once　from　his　bloodstained　shirt　and　torn　clothes。
　
　Finally　he　stepped　into　a　doorway　and　rested；　and　then　slowly　slipped　his　hand　into　his　coat。　The　wound　was　healed　on　the　outside；　though　he　could　still　feel　the　throbbing　inside。　He　felt　the　broad　strip　of　the　moneybelt。　The　vials　were　intact。
　
　The　cursed　vials！　Would　that　he　had　never　taken　the　elixir　from　its　hiding　place　in　London！　Or　that　he　had　sealed　the　powder　into　a　clay　vessel　and　sunk　the　vessel　into　the　sea！
　
　What　would　the　soldiers　have　done　with　the　liquid　if　they　had　got　their　hands　on　it？　He　could　not　bear　to　dwell　on　how　close　he　had　e　to　that　possibility。
　
　But　the　thing　now　was　to　return　to　the　museum！　He　must　find　her！　And　to　dwell　on　what　had　befallen　her　in　the　interim　was　more　than　he　could　bear。
　
　Never　in　ah1　his　existence　had　he〃　experienced　the　regret　which　he　was　feeling　now。　But　it　was　done！　He　had　succumbed　to　the　temptation。　He　had　awakened　the　half…rotted　body　lying　in　that　case。
　
　And　he　must　find　the　results　of　his　folly。　He　must　learn　whether　a　spark　of　intellect　existed　inside　it！
　
　Ah；　but　whom　was　he　deceiving！　She　had　called　his　name！
　
　He　turned　and　hurried　down　the　alley。　A　disguise；　that's　what　he　needed。　And　he　had　no　time　to　purchase　it。　He　must　take　it　where　he　could。　Laundry；　he　had　seen　ropes　of　laundry。　He　rushed　on；　until　he　saw　another　such　rope　sagging　across　a　narrow　passageway　to　his　left。
　
　Bedouin　garments…the　long…sleeved　robe　and　the　headdress。　He　tore　these　down　at　once。　Discarding　his　jacket；　he　put　them　on；　and　then　cut　a　bit　of　the　rope　itself　to　tie　around　his　head。
　
　Now　he　looked　like　an　Arab　except　for　the　blue　eyes。　But　then　he　knew　where　he　might　get　a　pair　of　dark　glasses。　He'd　seen　them　in　the　bazaar。　And　that　was　on　the　way　back　to　the　museum。　He　headed　out　at　a　dead　run。
　
　*　*　*
　
　Henry　had　been　almost　dead　drunk　since　he'd　e　from　Shepheard's　the　day　before。　The　brief　talk　with　Elliott　had　had　a　peculiar　effect　on　him　somehow；　it　had　sapped　his　nerve。
　
　He　tried　to　remind　himself　that　he　loathed　Elliott　Savarell　and　that　he　himself　was　pressing　on　to　America；　where　he'd　never　see　Elliott　or　anyone　like　him　again。
　
　Yet　the　meeting　haunted　him。　Every　time　he　sobered　up　just　a　little　he　saw　Elliott　again；　staring　at　him　with　absolute　contempt。　He　heard　the　cold　hatred　in　Elliott's　voice。
　
　A　lot　of　nerve　Elliott　had；　turning　on　him　like　this。　Years　ago；　after　a　brief　and　stupid　affair；　Henry　had　had　it　in　his　power　to　destroy　Elliot；　but　he　had　not　done　so　for　no　other　reason　than　it　would　have　been　a　cruel　thing　to　do。　He　had　always　presumed　that　Elliott　was　grateful　for　that；　that　Elliott's　patience　and　politeness　signaled　that　gratitude。　For　Elliott　had　been　unfailingly　courteous　to　him　over　the　years。
　
　Not　so　yesterday。　And　the　awful　thing　about　it　was　that　the　hatred　Elliot　evinced　had　been　a　mirror　image　of　the　hatred　Henry　felt　for　everyone　he　knew。　It　had　soured　Henry　and　embittered　him。
　
　And　it　had　also　frightened　him。
　
　Have　to　get　away　from　them；　all　of　them；　he　reasoned。　They　do　nothing　but　criticize　me　and　misjudge　me　when　they　are　not　worth　a　tinker's　damn　themselves。
　
　When　they　had　left　Cairo；　he　would　clean　himself　up；　stop　drinking；　go　back　to　Shepheard's　and　sleep　in　peace　for　a　few　days。　Then　he'd　strike　the　bargain　with　his　father　and　head　out　to　America　with　the　considerable　little　fortune　he'd　saved。
　
　But　for　the　moment；　he　had　no　intention　of　curtailing　the　parry。　There　would　be　no　card　game　today；　he　would　take　it　easy；　and　enjoy　the　Scotch　without　distraction；　merely　dozing　in　his　rattan　chair；　and　eating　the　food　Malenka　prepared　for　him　if　and　when　he　chose。
　
　Malenka　herself　had　bee　a　bit　of　a　nag。　She　had　just　cooked　an　English　breakfast　for　him　and　wanted　him　to　e　to　the　table。　He　had　slapped　her　with　the　back　of　his　hand；　and　told　her　to　leave　him　alone。
　
　Nevertheless　she　went　on　with　her　preparations。　He　could　hear　the　kettle　whistling。　She　had　set　china　out　on　the　small　rattan　table　in　the　courtyard。
　
　Well；　to　hell　with　her。　He　had　three　bottles　of　Scotch；　which　was　plenty。　Maybe　he　would　lock　her　out　later　if　there　was　a
　
　chance。　He　loved　the　idea　of　being　all　alone　here。　Of　drinking　and　smoking　and　dreaming。　And　maybe　listening　to　the　gramophone。　He　was　even　getting　used　to　that　damned　parrot。
　
　As　he　dozed　off　now；　th