达芬奇密码 作者: 美 丹·布朗(英文版)-第27部分

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Sophie　stamped　her　foot。　〃I　told　you　I　don't　like　secrets！〃
〃Princess；〃　he　smiled。　〃Life　is　filled　with　secrets。　You　can't　learn　them　all　at　once。〃
　
〃I'm　going　back　up；〃　Sophie　declared；　her　voice　hollow　in　the　stairwell。
〃To　the　Mona　Lisa？〃　Langdon　recoiled。　〃Now？〃
Sophie　considered　the　risk。　〃I'm　not　a　murder　suspect。　I'll　take　my　chances。　I　need　to　understand　what　my　grandfather　was　trying　to　tell　me。〃
〃What　about　the　embassy？〃
Sophie　felt　guilty　turning　Langdon　into　a　fugitive　only　to　abandon　him；　but　she　saw　no　other　option。　She　pointed　down　the　stairs　to　a　metal　door。　〃Go　through　that　door；　and　follow　the　illuminated　exit　signs。　My　grandfather　used　to　bring　me　down　here。　The　signs　will　lead　you　to　a　security　turnstile。　It's　monodirectional　and　opens　out。〃　She　handed　Langdon　her　car　keys。　〃Mine　is　the　red　SmartCar　in　the　employee　lot。　Directly　outside　this　bulkhead。　Do　you　know　how　to　get　to　the　embassy？〃
Langdon　nodded；　eyeing　the　keys　in　his　hand。
〃Listen；〃　Sophie　said；　her　voice　softening。　〃I　think　my　grandfather　may　have　left　me　a　message　at　the　Mona　Lisa—some　kind　of　clue　as　to　who　killed　him。　Or　why　I'm　in　danger。〃　Or　what　happened　to　my　family。　〃I　have　to　go　see。〃
〃But　if　he　wanted　to　tell　you　why　you　were　in　danger；　why　wouldn't　he　simply　write　it　on　the　floor　where　he　died？　Why　this　plicated　word　game？〃
〃Whatever　my　grandfather　was　trying　to　tell　me；　I　don't　think　he　wanted　anyone　else　to　hear　it。　Not　even　the　police。〃　Clearly；　her　grandfather　had　done　everything　in　his　power　to　send　a　confidential　transmission　directly　to　her。　He　had　written　it　in　code；　included　her　secret　initials；　and　told　her　to　find　Robert　Langdon—a　wise　mand；　considering　the　American　symbologist　had　deciphered　his　code。　〃As　strange　as　it　may　sound；〃　Sophie　said；　〃I　think　he　wants　me　to　get　to　the　Mona　Lisa　before　anyone　else　does。〃
〃I'll　e。〃
〃No！　We　don't　know　how　long　the　Grand　Gallery　will　stay　empty。　You　have　to　go。〃
Langdon　seemed　hesitant；　as　if　his　own　academic　curiosity　were　threatening　to　override　sound　judgment　and　drag　him　back　into　Fache's　hands。
〃Go。　Now。〃　Sophie　gave　him　a　grateful　smile。　〃I'll　see　you　at　the　embassy；　Mr。　Langdon。〃
Langdon　looked　displeased。　〃I'll　meet　you　there　on　one　condition；〃　he　replied；　his　voice　stern。
She　paused；　startled。　〃What's　that？〃
〃That　you　stop　calling　me　Mr。　Langdon。〃
Sophie　detected　the　faint　hint　of　a　lopsided　grin　growing　across　Langdon's　face；　and　she　felt　herself　smile　back。　〃Good　luck；　Robert。〃
　
When　Langdon　reached　the　landing　at　the　bottom　of　the　stairs；　the　unmistakable　smell　of　linseed　oil　and　plaster　dust　assaulted　his　nostrils。　Ahead；　an　illuminated　SORTIE/EXIT　displayed　an　arrow　pointing　down　a　long　corridor。
Langdon　stepped　into　the　hallway。
To　the　right　gaped　a　murky　restoration　studio　out　of　which　peered　an　army　of　statues　in　various　states　of　repair。　To　the　left；　Langdon　saw　a　suite　of　studios　that　resembled　Harvard　art　classrooms—rows　of　easels；　paintings；　palettes；　framing　tools—an　art　assembly　line。
As　he　moved　down　the　hallway；　Langdon　wondered　if　at　any　moment　he　might　awake　with　a　start　in　his　bed　in　Cambridge。　The　entire　evening　had　felt　like　a　bizarre　dream。　I'm　about　to　dash　out　of　the　Louvre。。。　a　fugitive。
Saunière's　clever　anagrammatic　message　was　still　on　his　mind；　and　Langdon　wondered　what　Sophie　would　find　at　the　Mona　Lisa。。。　if　anything。　She　had　seemed　certain　her　grandfather　meant　for　her　to　visit　the　famous　painting　one　more　time。　As　plausible　an　interpretation　as　this　seemed；　Langdon　felt　haunted　now　by　a　troubling　paradox。
P。S。　Find　Robert　Langdon。
Saunière　had　written　Langdon's　name　on　the　floor；　manding　Sophie　to　find　him。　But　why？　Merely　so　Langdon　could　help　her　break　an　anagram？
It　seemed　quite　unlikely。
After　all；　Saunière　had　no　reason　to　think　Langdon　was　especially　skilled　at　anagrams。　We've　never　even　met。　More　important；　Sophie　had　stated　flat　out　that　she　should　have　broken　the　anagram　on　her　own。　It　had　been　Sophie　who　spotted　the　Fibonacci　sequence；　and；　no　doubt；　Sophie　who；　if　given　a　little　more　time；　would　have　deciphered　the　message　with　no　help　from　Langdon。
Sophie　was　supposed　to　break　that　anagram　on　her　own。　Langdon　was　suddenly　feeling　more　certain　about　this；　and　yet　the　conclusion　left　an　obvious　gaping　lapse　in　the　logic　of　Saunière's　actions。
Why　me？　Langdon　wondered；　heading　down　the　hall。　Why　was　Saunière's　dying　wish　that　his　estranged　granddaughter　find　me？　What　is　it　that　Saunière　thinks　I　know？
With　an　unexpected　jolt；　Langdon　stopped　short。　Eyes　wide；　he　dug　in　his　pocket　and　yanked　out　the　puter　printout。　He　stared　at　the　last　line　of　Saunière's　message。
P。S。　Find　Robert　Langdon。
He　fixated　on　two　letters。
P。S。
In　that　instant；　Langdon　felt　Saunière's　puzzling　mix　of　symbolism　fall　into　stark　focus。　Like　a　peal　of　thunder；　a　career's　worth　of　symbology　and　history　came　crashing　down　around　him。　Everything　Jacques　Saunière　had　done　tonight　suddenly　made　perfect　sense。
Langdon's　thoughts　raced　as　he　tried　to　assemble　the　implications　of　what　this　all　meant。　Wheeling；　he　stared　back　in　the　direction　from　which　he　had　e。
Is　there　time？
He　knew　it　didn't　matter。
Without　hesitation；　Langdon　broke　into　a　sprint　back　toward　the　stairs。
　
CHAPTER　22

Kneeling　in　the　first　pew；　Silas　pretended　to　pray　as　he　scanned　the　layout　of　the　sanctuary。　Saint…Sulpice；　like　most　churches；　had　been　built　in　the　shape　of　a　giant　Roman　cross。　Its　long　central　section—the　nave—led　directly　to　the　main　altar；　where　it　was　transversely　intersected　by　a　shorter　section；　known　as　the　transept。　The　intersection　of　nave　and　transept　occurred　directly　beneath　the　main　cupola　and　was　considered　the　heart　of　the　church。。。　her　most　sacred　and　mystical　point。
Not　tonight；　Silas　thought。　Saint…Sulpice　hides　her　secrets　elsewhere。
Turning　his　head　to　the　right；　he　gazed　into　the　south　transept；　toward　the　open　area　of　floor　beyond　the　end　of　the　pews；　to　the　object　his　victims　had　described。
There　it　is。
Embedded　in　the　gray　granite　floor；　a　thin　polished　strip　of　brass　glistened　in　the　stone。。。　a　golden　line　slanting　across　the　church's　floor。　The　line　bore　graduated　markings；　like　a　ruler。　It　was　a　gnomon；　Silas　had　been　told；　a　pagan　astronomical　device　like　a　sundial。　Tourists；　scientists；　historians；　and　pagans　from　around　the　world　came　to　Saint…Sulpice　to　gaze　upon　this　famous　line。
The　Rose　Line。
Slowly；　Silas　let　his　eyes　trace　the　path　of　the　brass　strip　as　it　made　its　way　across　the　floor　from　his　right　to　left；　slanting　in　front　of　him　at　an　awkward　angle；　entirely　at　odds　with　the　symmetry　of　the　church。　Slicing　across　the　main　altar　itself；　the　line　looked　to　Silas　like　a　slash　wound　across　a　beautiful　face。　The　strip　cleaved　the　munion　rail　in　two　and　then　crossed　the　entire　width　of　the　church；　finally　reaching　the　corner　of　the　north　transept；　where　it　arrived　at　the　base　of　a　most　unexpected　structure。
A　colossal　Egyptian　obelisk。
Here；　the　glistening　Rose　Line　took　a　ninety…degree　vertical　turn　and　continued　directly　up　the　face　of　the　obelisk　itself；　ascending　thirty…three　feet　to　the　very　tip　of　the　pyramidical　apex；　where　it　finally　ceased。
The　Rose　Line；　Silas　thought。　The