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达芬奇密码|The Da Vinci Code

第39章|Chapter 38

属类： 双语小说 【分类】世界名著 -[作者: 丹-布朗] 阅读：[25835]
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虽然布吕耶尔街上那褐色的斯巴达克式石屋已经见证了无数的苦难，但塞拉斯却觉得他现在的痛苦才是世间最难堪的。我被骗了。一切都完了。

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塞拉斯被骗了。隐修会的教友们宁愿选择死亡也不愿泄露秘密。塞拉斯连打电话给主教的力气都没有了。他不仅杀了知道楔石隐藏地的四个人，还杀了一个圣叙尔皮斯教堂的修女。她与上帝作对！她蔑视天主事工会！

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修女之死把问题变得更加复杂了，这都是塞拉斯一时冲动惹的祸。阿林加洛沙主教曾打电话向修道院院长打了招呼，让塞拉斯进入圣叙尔皮斯教堂；但如果修道院院长发现修女死了，又会怎么想呢？虽然塞拉斯已经将她的尸体放在了床上，但她头部的伤痕是非常明显的。他也曾试图修复那块被砸碎的地砖，但那破坏的痕迹无法掩饰。他们一定会看出有人去过那里。

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塞拉斯本想在完成任务后躲进天主事工会。阿林加洛沙主教会保护我的。在塞拉斯眼中，最幸福的生活方式莫过于整日在纽约的天主事工会总部里冥思和祈祷。他将再也不踏出那里半步。他的所有需求都可以在那个圣地得到满足。没有人会想起我。但此时，塞拉斯意识到，让阿林加洛沙主教那样的名人消失在人们的视线中可不容易。

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我给主教带来了危险。塞拉斯茫然地看着地面，琢磨着如何逃生。毕竟，是阿林加洛沙给了塞拉斯新生……在西班牙的那个小教区时，阿林加洛沙教育他，给了他生活的目标。

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"我的朋友。"阿林加洛沙告诉他。"你生来就是一个白化病人。不要让别人因此而瞧不起你。你不知道这让你多么地与众不同吗？你还不知道诺亚就是个白化病人吧？"

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"是"诺亚方舟"传说里的那个诺亚吗？"塞拉斯从来没有听说过。

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阿林加洛沙微笑着说："没错，就是"诺亚方舟"里的那个诺亚。和你一样，他的皮肤像天使一样白。想想看，诺亚挽救了地球上的所有生命。塞拉斯，你注定要做出壮举。上帝将你解救出来，就是因为你有你的使命。上帝需要你去完成他的旨意。"一时间，塞拉斯学会了以新的眼光来看待自己。我是纯洁的，我是洁白的，我是美丽的，就像一个天使。

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此时，父亲那失望的声音又从遥远的过去传来，传到他的房间里。

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你是个祸星，一个幽灵。

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塞拉斯跪在地板上祈求宽恕。然后，他解下长袍，伸手去拿那本戒律。

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Sophie scrutinized Langdon in the back of the taxi. He’s joking. "The Holy Grail?"Langdon nodded, his expression serious. "Holy Grail is the literal meaning of Sangreal. The phrasederives from the French Sangraal, which evolved to Sangreal, and was eventually split into twowords, San Greal."Holy Grail. Sophie was surprised she had not spotted the linguistic ties immediately. Even so,Langdon’s claim still made no sense to her. "I thought the Holy Grail was a cup. You just told methe Sangreal is a collection of documents that reveals some dark secret.""Yes, but the Sangreal documents are only half of the Holy Grail treasure. They are buried with theGrail itself... and reveal its true meaning. The documents gave the Knights Templar so much powerbecause the pages revealed the true nature of the Grail."The true nature of the Grail? Sophie felt even more lost now. The Holy Grail, she had thought, wasthe cup that Jesus drank from at the Last Supper and with which Joseph of Arimathea later caughtHis blood at the crucifixion. "The Holy Grail is the Cup of Christ," she said. "How much simplercould it be?""Sophie," Langdon whispered, leaning toward her now, "according to the Priory of Sion, the HolyGrail is not a cup at all. They claim the Grail legend—that of a chalice—is actually an ingeniouslyconceived allegory. That is, that the Grail story uses the chalice as a metaphor for something else,something far more powerful." He paused. "Something that fits perfectly with everything yourgrandfather has been trying to tell us tonight, including all his symbologic references to the sacredfeminine."Still unsure, Sophie sensed in Langdon’s patient smile that he empathized with her confusion, andyet his eyes remained earnest. "But if the Holy Grail is not a cup," she asked, "what is it?"Langdon had known this question was coming, and yet he still felt uncertain exactly how to tellher. If he did not present the answer in the proper historical background, Sophie would be left witha vacant air of bewilderment—the exact expression Langdon had seen on his own editor’s face afew months ago after Langdon handed him a draft of the manuscript he was working on.

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"This manuscript claims what?" his editor had choked, setting down his wineglass and staringacross his half-eaten power lunch. "You can’t be serious.""Serious enough to have spent a year researching it."Prominent New York editor Jonas Faukman tugged nervously at his goatee. Faukman no doubt hadheard some wild book ideas in his illustrious career, but this one seemed to have left the manflabbergasted.

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"Robert," Faukman finally said, "don’t get me wrong. I love your work, and we’ve had a great runtogether. But if I agree to publish an idea like this, I’ll have people picketing outside my office formonths. Besides, it will kill your reputation. You’re a Harvard historian, for God’s sake, not a popschlockmeister looking for a quick buck. Where could you possibly find enough credible evidenceto support a theory like this?"With a quiet smile Langdon pulled a piece of paper from the pocket of his tweed coat and handed itto Faukman. The page listed a bibliography of over fifty titles—books by well-known historians,some contemporary, some centuries old—many of them academic bestsellers. All the book titlessuggested the same premise Langdon had just proposed. As Faukman read down the list, he lookedlike a man who had just discovered the earth was actually flat. "I know some of these authors.

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They’re... real historians!"Langdon grinned. "As you can see, Jonas, this is not only my theory. It’s been around for a longtime. I’m simply building on it. No book has yet explored the legend of the Holy Grail from asymbologic angle. The iconographic evidence I’m finding to support the theory is, well,staggeringly persuasive."Faukman was still staring at the list. "My God, one of these books was written by Sir LeighTeabing—a British Royal Historian.""Teabing has spent much of his life studying the Holy Grail. I’ve met with him. He was actually abig part of my inspiration. He’s a believer, Jonas, along with all of the others on that list.""You’re telling me all of these historians actually believe..." Faukman swallowed, apparentlyunable to say the words.

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Langdon grinned again. "The Holy Grail is arguably the most sought-after treasure in humanhistory. The Grail has spawned legends, wars, and lifelong quests. Does it make sense that it ismerely a cup? If so, then certainly other relics should generate similar or greater interest—theCrown of Thorns, the True Cross of the Crucifixion, the Titulus—and yet, they do not. Throughouthistory, the Holy Grail has been the most special." Langdon grinned. "Now you know why."Faukman was still shaking his head. "But with all these books written about it, why isn’t this theorymore widely known?""These books can’t possibly compete with centuries of established history, especially when thathistory is endorsed by the ultimate bestseller of all time."Faukman’s eyes went wide. "Don’t tell me Harry Potter is actually about the Holy Grail.""I was referring to the Bible."Faukman cringed. "I knew that.""Laissez-le!" Sophie’s shouts cut the air inside the taxi. "Put it down!"Langdon jumped as Sophie leaned forward over the seat and yelled at the taxi driver. Langdoncould see the driver was clutching his radio mouthpiece and speaking into it.

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Sophie turned now and plunged her hand into the pocket of Langdon’s tweed jacket. BeforeLangdon knew what had happened, she had yanked out the pistol, swung it around, and waspressing it to the back of the driver’s head. The driver instantly dropped his radio, raising his onefree hand overhead.

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"Sophie!" Langdon choked. "What the hell—""Arrêtez!" Sophie commanded the driver.

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Trembling, the driver obeyed, stopping the car and putting it in park.

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It was then that Langdon heard the metallic voice of the taxi company’s dispatcher coming from thedashboard. "...qui s’appette Agent Sophie Neveu..." the radio crackled. "Et un Américain, RobertLangdon..."Langdon’s muscles turned rigid. They found us already?

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"Descendez," Sophie demanded.

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The trembling driver kept his arms over his head as he got out of his taxi and took several stepsbackward.

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Sophie had rolled down her window and now aimed the gun outside at the bewildered cabbie.

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"Robert," she said quietly, "take the wheel. You’re driving."Langdon was not about to argue with a woman wielding a gun. He climbed out of the car andjumped back in behind the wheel. The driver was yelling curses, his arms still raised over his head.

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"Robert," Sophie said from the back seat, "I trust you’ve seen enough of our magic forest?"He nodded. Plenty.

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"Good. Drive us out of here."Langdon looked down at the car’s controls and hesitated. Shit. He groped for the stick shift andclutch. "Sophie? Maybe you—""Go!" she yelled.

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Outside, several hookers were walking over to see what was going on. One woman was placing acall on her cell phone. Langdon depressed the clutch and jostled the stick into what he hoped wasfirst gear. He touched the accelerator, testing the gas.

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Langdon popped the clutch. The tires howled as the taxi leapt forward, fishtailing wildly andsending the gathering crowd diving for cover. The woman with the cell phone leapt into the woods,only narrowly avoiding being run down.

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"Doucement!" Sophie said, as the car lurched down the road. "What are you doing?""I tried to warn you," he shouted over the sound of gnashing gears. "I drive an automatic!"

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