elizabethpeters.thegoldenone-第58部分

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　〃Sugar　water。　It　is　not　delirium；　but　nervous　excitability。　Speak　to　him；　Emerson。〃
　Emerson　hesitated　for　only　a　moment。　Like　another；　he　is　not　above　quoting　Scripture　for　his　own　purposes。　His　sonorous　voice　rolled　out　in　the　words　of　the　fathah；　the　first　sureh　of　the　Koran；　from　which　Yusuf　had　quoted。　〃In　the　name　of　God；　the　merciful　and　gracious。　Praise　be　to　God；　the　Lord　of　the　Worlds。〃
　Yusuf　sat　up　with　a　galvanic　start。　His　wild　eyes　gleamed　like　those　of　an　animal。　〃So；〃　he　said。　〃It　is　you；　Father　of　Curses。　Have　you　e　to　punish　me　because　my　silence　might　have　caused　your　death　and　that　of　the　Sitt　Hakim？〃
　〃Good　Gad；　no；〃　exclaimed　Emerson；　shocked　into　English。
　〃The　Father　of　Curses　is　also　merciful　and　gracious；〃　I　explained；　hoping　this　did　not　sound　blasphemous。　〃We　are　here　to　help　you　…　and　Jamil；　if　we　can。　Where　is　he？〃
　〃Is　it　the　truth？　It　is　the　truth；　you　do　not　lie。　You　do　not　seek　his　life？〃
　We　had　to　listen　to　quite　a　lot　of　this　sort　of　thing　and　repeat　the　same　reassurances　several　times。　In　psychological　terms　it　was　quite　therapeutic　for　Yusuf；　though　rather　tiresome　for　us。　My　diagnosis　had　been　correct；　his　indisposition　was　not　physical　but　mental；　and　the　news　of　Jamil's　latest　assault　on　us；　which　he　had　undoubtedly　heard　that　morning；　had　left　him　torn　between　loyalty　and　affection；　unable　to　decide　what　to　do。
　〃I　will　take　you　to　him；〃　Yusuf　quavered。　〃We　meet；　at　different　times；　in　the　cemetery　near　the　mosque。　He　will　be　there　tonight；　when　the　moon　rises。〃
　〃Abdullah's　tomb；〃　I　said。　〃Praying　at　that　holy　place　was　an　excuse　for　meeting　your　son？〃
　My　resentment　must　have　shown　in　my　voice。　The　old　man　shrank　back。　〃It　was　not　an　excuse。　I　prayed　there。　That　my　cousin　Abdullah　would　forgive　me　and　ask　God　to　forgive　me。〃
　He　had　ignored　Jumana　as　if　she　were　invisible。　This　did　not　seem　the　proper　time　for　a　little　lecture　on　the　subject　of　forgiving　one's　daughter。
　The　cemetery　was　on　the　north　side　of　the　hill；　on　a　space　of　level　ground。　Over　the　cliff　floated　a　silver　orb；　flooding　the　landscape　with　light。　Abdullah's　monument　shone　like　snow。
　On　the　edge　of　the　cemetery；　still　in　the　shadow　of　the　hill；　Yusuf　stopped。　〃Let　me　go　ahead。　Let　me　talk　to　him。　I　will　tell　him　he　must　give　himself　up。〃
　〃Go　on　then；〃　said　Emerson。
　He　waited　until　the　old　man　was　out　of　earshot　before　muttering；　〃I　don't　share　Yusuf's　confidence　in　his　power　of　persuasion。　Peabody；　give　me　that　pistol　of　yours　…　I　know　you　have　it；　so　don't　pretend　you　don't。〃
　I　did　not　hesitate　to　do　so。　I　had　been　practicing　with　the　confounded　weapon　for　years　without　attaining　the　degree　of　skill　Emerson　possesses。
　〃No；〃　Jumana　whispered。　〃Please；　you　said　you　would　not　kill　him。〃
　〃Couldn't　kill　a　rabbit　with　this　thing；〃　said　Emerson　contemptuously。　〃If　he　bolts；　a　few　warning　shots　should　stop　him。　Worst　es　to　worst；　I'll　shoot　him　in　the　leg。〃
　Yusuf　made　no　attempt　to　conceal　himself。　Standing　full　in　the　moonlight　several　yards　from　the　tomb；　he　called　out；　〃It　is　I；　Jamil；　your　father。　e　out　and　speak　with　me。〃
　Though　he　spoke　softly；　we　heard　every　word。　The　cemetery　was　silent　and　deserted。　Few　people　came　there　at　any　time；　and　none　came　after　nightfall。　It　was　one　of　the　safest　places　Jamil　could　have　chosen。
　After　a　moment　the　boy　emerged　from　the　entrance　to　the　tomb。　〃Are　you　afraid　to　e　closer；　my　father？　The　spirits　of　the　dead　do　not　trouble　the　living。〃
　He　was　in　Egyptian　clothing；　a　dark　robe　and　carelessly　wound　turban。　His　face　was　the　image　of　his　sister's　now　that　he　had　shaved　off　his　mustache；　he　looked　very　young　and　very　harmless。　But　there　was　a　knife　thrust　through　his　sash；　and　in　his　right　hand　he　carried　a　long　stick。
　〃The　spirit　of　my　revered　cousin　Abdullah　troubles　me；〃　the　old　man　retorted。　〃We　have　dishonored　him；　Jamil；　but　it　is　not　too　late　to　seek　forgiveness。　e　with　me　to　the　Father　of　Curses；　who　will　help　you。〃
　Jamil's　pretty　face　twisted　into　a　grimace　of　pure　hate。　His　head　turned　from　side　to　side；　his　eyes　searching　every　shadow。　Whether　he　saw　us　or　only　deduced　our　presence　I　will　never　know；　but　he　raised　the　stick　to　his　shoulder；　holding　it　as　one　might　hold　a　rifle。　It　was　a　rifle　…　Yusuf's　antique　weapon；　his　most　prized　possession。
　Yusuf　cried　out。　〃No；　Jamil！　You　said　you　would　not　fire　it　unless　one　attacked　you。　Put　it　down。〃
　Emerson　stepped　out　into　the　moonlight。　〃Drop　it；　Jamil；〃　he　called。　〃Yusuf；　get　away　from　him。〃
　Aiming　my　pistol　at　the　ground　in　front　of　Jamil；　he　took　a　long　step　forward。　If　he　meant　to　say　more　or　do　more；　he　did　not　have　the　chance。　A　loud　explosion　rent　the　air　and　the　darkness　was　reddened　by　fire。　Somewhat　belatedly　I　tried　to　fling　myself　in　front　of　Nefret。
　〃Dear　God；〃　Ramses　whispered。　〃The　damned　gun　exploded。　I　was　afraid　it　would　someday；　he　must　be　…〃
　Emerson　was　running　toward　the　crumpled　form。　By　the　time　we　reached　Jamil　there　were　two　crumpled　forms。　Yusuf　had　bent　over　his　son；　shrieked；　and　dropped　like　a　stone。
　Jamil　was　still　alive。　When　I　saw　the　ruin　that　remained　of　his　face　I　could　only　pray　he　would　not　live　long。　His　one　remaining　eye　rolled　from　side　to　side　and　focused。　Sounds　whistled　through　his　broken　teeth。
　〃Jumana。　Sister。　Is　our　father　…〃
　After　one　horrified　look　at　Jamil；　Nefret　had　known　there　was　nothing　she　could　do。　Kneeling　by　the　old　man；　her　hand　on　his　bared　breast；　she　said；　〃It　is　his　heart。　We　must　get　him　to　the　house。〃
　〃Heart；〃　Jamil　said　faintly。　〃I　killed　him。　My　father。　Sister　…　listen　…　the　tomb　…〃
　Jumana　leaned　closer。　Shock　had　deprived　her　even　of　tears。　〃Do　you　want　to　tell　me　where　it　is？　Speak；　then；　and　go　to　God　having　done　that　last　kindness。〃
　〃Kindness。〃　I　think　he　was　trying　to　laugh。　It　was　a　dreadful　sound；　bubbling　with　blood。　Then　he　said；　with　a　last　burst　of　strength；　〃The　fools。　It　was　there；　before　their　eyes。　In　the　hand　of　the　god。〃
　　
　Yusuf　lived　only　long　enough　to　take　the　hand　of　his　daughter　（placed　in　his　by　me）　and　murmur　a　few　unintelligible　words。　A　sentimentalist　might　say　he　had　died　of　a　broken　heart。　In　scientific　terms　he　had　succumbed　to　the　same　heart　ailment　from　which　Abdullah　had　suffered　in　his　last　years。　We　left　Ramses　to　stand　guard　over　Jamil；　and　Emerson　carried　Yusuf's　wasted　body　back　to　his　house。　I　looked　back　as　we　walked　away。　The　lovely　shape　of　Abdullah's　tomb　was　outlined　by　moonlight　and　shadow。　In　the　deeper　shadows　of　the　doorway；　nothing　moved。
　There　was　not　much　we　could　do　for　the　afflicted　family。　Indeed；　the　angry　looks　directed　at　us　by　some　of　its　members　indicated　that　our　best　course　was　to　leave　them　alone。
　The　whole　ghastly　business　had　taken　far　less　time　than　I　had　realized　…　less　than　half　an　hour　from　start　to　finish　…　but　explanations　and　changes　of　clothing　delayed　the　longed…for　moment　when　we　could　settle　down　on　the　veranda。
　Ramses　was　the　last　to　join　us。　Though　the　tightness　of　his　mouth　betrayed　his　distress；　he　was　his　usual　phlegmatic　self　when　he　replied　to　our　questions。　〃I　left　him　with　his　cousins。　They　made　it　clear　I　was　not　wanted。　Where　is　Sennia？〃
　〃I　sent　her　to　bed；〃　I　replied；　as　Emerson　pressed　a　glass　of　whiskey　into　his　son's　hand。　〃She　made　quite　a　fuss；　and　Horus　tried　to　bite　me。〃
　〃Jumana？〃　was　Ramses's　next　question。
　〃She　finally　broke　down；　but　not　until　Fatima　took　her　in　a　motherly　embrace。　Perhaps；〃　I　mused；　〃I　emphasized　too　strongly　the　virtue　of　a　stiff　upper　lip。〃
　〃What　a　pity；〃　Nefret　said　softly。　〃The　family　was　once　so　strong　and　proud　and　united。〃
　〃The　greater　pity；〃　said　Ramses；　〃is　Jamil。　If　he　had　turned　his　unique　talent　to　archaeology　he　might　have　been　happy　and　successful。　How　does　one　account　for　such　men？〃
　〃Don't　start　a　philosophical　discussion；〃　Emerson　growled。　〃I　cannot　account　for　them　and　neither　can　your　mother；　though　she　will　try　if　you　give　her　half　a　chance。　The　family　will　get　over　this　in　time；　and　so　will　Jumana。　Time　heals　。　。　。〃　Realizing　he　had　been　on　the　verge　of　mitting　an　aphorism；　he　caught　himself　and　went　on；　〃Was　he　trying　to　tell　us；　at　the　end；　where　the　tomb　is　located；　or　was　he　still　taunting　us？　'In　the　hand　o