达芬奇密码 作者: 美 丹·布朗(英文版)-第62章

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ssed　the　entire　deciphered　message。
In　this　case；　the　precaution　was　probably　excessive；　even　if　this　librarian　saw　the　entire　poem；　identified　the　knight's　tomb；　and　knew　what　orb　was　missing；　the　information　was　useless　without　the　cryptex。
　
Gettum　sensed　an　urgency　in　the　eyes　of　this　famed　American　scholar；　almost　as　if　his　finding　this　tomb　quickly　were　a　matter　of　critical　importance。　The　green…eyed　woman　acpanying　him　also　seemed　anxious。
Puzzled；　Gettum　put　on　her　glasses　and　examined　the　paper　they　had　just　handed　her。
In　London　lies　a　knight　a　Pope　interred。
His　labor's　fruit　a　Holy　wrath　incurred。
　
She　glanced　at　her　guests。　〃What　is　this？　Some　kind　of　Harvard　scavenger　hunt？〃
Langdon's　laugh　sounded　forced。　〃Yeah；　something　like　that。〃
Gettum　paused；　feeling　she　was　not　getting　the　whole　story。　Nonetheless；　she　felt　intrigued　and　found　herself　pondering　the　verse　carefully。　〃According　to　this　rhyme；　a　knight　did　something　that　incurred　displeasure　with　God；　and　yet　a　Pope　was　kind　enough　to　bury　him　in　London。〃
Langdon　nodded。　〃Does　it　ring　any　bells？〃
Gettum　moved　toward　one　of　the　workstations。　〃Not　offhand；　but　let's　see　what　we　can　pull　up　in　the　database。〃
Over　the　past　two　decades；　King's　College　Research　Institute　in　Systematic　Theology　had　used　optical　character　recognition　software　in　unison　with　linguistic　translation　devices　to　digitize　and　catalog　an　enormous　collection　of　texts—encyclopedias　of　religion；　religious　biographies；　sacred　scriptures　in　dozens　of　languages；　histories；　Vatican　letters；　diaries　of　clerics；　anything　at　all　that　qualified　as　writings　on　human　spirituality。　Because　the　massive　collection　was　now　in　the　form　of　bits　and　bytes　rather　than　physical　pages；　the　data　was　infinitely　more　accessible。
Settling　into　one　of　the　workstations；　Gettum　eyed　the　slip　of　paper　and　began　typing。　〃To　begin；　we'll　run　a　straight　Boolean　with　a　few　obvious　keywords　and　see　what　happens。〃
〃Thank　you。〃
Gettum　typed　in　a　few　words：
LONDON；　KNIGHT；　POPE
　
As　she　clicked　the　SEARCH　button；　she　could　feel　the　hum　of　the　massive　mainframe　downstairs　scanning　data　at　a　rate　of　500　MB/sec。　〃I'm　asking　the　system　to　show　us　any　documents　whose　plete　text　contains　all　three　of　these　keywords。　We'll　get　more　hits　than　we　want；　but　it's　a　good　place　to　start。〃
The　screen　was　already　showing　the　first　of　the　hits　now。
Painting　the　Pope。　The　Collected　Portraits　of　Sir　Joshua　Reynolds。　London　University　Press。
　
Gettum　shook　her　head。　〃Obviously　not　what　you're　looking　for。〃　She　scrolled　to　the　next　hit。
The　London　Writings　of　Alexander　Pope　by　G。　Wilson　Knight。
　
Again　she　shook　her　head。
As　the　system　churned　on；　the　hits　came　up　more　quickly　than　usual。　Dozens　of　texts　appeared；　many　of　them　referencing　the　eighteenth…century　British　writer　Alexander　Pope；　whose　counterreligious；　mock…epic　poetry　apparently　contained　plenty　of　references　to　knights　and　London。
Gettum　shot　a　quick　glance　to　the　numeric　field　at　the　bottom　of　the　screen。　This　puter；　by　calculating　the　current　number　of　hits　and　multiplying　by　the　percentage　of　the　database　left　to　search；　provided　a　rough　guess　of　how　much　information　would　be　found。　This　particular　search　looked　like　it　was　going　to　return　an　obscenely　large　amount　of　data。
Estimated　number　of　total　hits：　2；692
　
〃We　need　to　refine　the　parameters　further；〃　Gettum　said；　stopping　the　search。　〃Is　this　all　the　information　you　have　regarding　the　tomb？　There's　nothing　else　to　go　on？〃
Langdon　glanced　at　Sophie　Neveu；　looking　uncertain。
This　is　no　scavenger　hunt；　Gettum　sensed。　She　had　heard　the　whisperings　of　Robert　Langdon's　experience　in　Rome　last　year。　This　American　had　been　granted　access　to　the　most　secure　library　on　earth—the　Vatican　Secret　Archives。　She　wondered　what　kinds　of　secrets　Langdon　might　have　learned　inside　and　if　his　current　desperate　hunt　for　a　mysterious　London　tomb　might　relate　to　information　he　had　gained　within　the　Vatican。　Gettum　had　been　a　librarian　long　enough　to　know　the　most　mon　reason　people　came　to　London　to　look　for　knights。　The　Grail。
Gettum　smiled　and　adjusted　her　glasses。　〃You　are　friends　with　Leigh　Teabing；　you　are　in　England；　and　you　are　looking　for　a　knight。〃　She　folded　her　hands。　〃I　can　only　assume　you　are　on　a　Grail　quest。〃
Langdon　and　Sophie　exchanged　startled　looks。
Gettum　laughed。　〃My　friends；　this　library　is　a　base　camp　for　Grail　seekers。　Leigh　Teabing　among　them。　I　wish　I　had　a　shilling　for　every　time　I'd　run　searches　for　the　Rose；　Mary　Magdalene；　Sangreal；　Merovingian；　Priory　of　Sion；　et　cetera；　et　cetera。　Everyone　loves　a　conspiracy。〃　She　took　off　her　glasses　and　eyed　them。　〃I　need　more　information。〃
In　the　silence；　Gettum　sensed　her　guests'　desire　for　discretion　was　quickly　being　outweighed　by　their　eagerness　for　a　fast　result。
〃Here；〃　Sophie　Neveu　blurted。　〃This　is　everything　we　know。〃　Borrowing　a　pen　from　Langdon；　she　wrote　two　more　lines　on　the　slip　of　paper　and　handed　it　to　Gettum。
You　seek　the　orb　that　ought　be　on　his　tomb。
It　speaks　of　Rosy　flesh　and　seeded　womb。
　
Gettum　gave　an　inward　smile。　The　Grail　indeed；　she　thought；　noting　the　references　to　the　Rose　and　her　seeded　womb。　〃I　can　help　you；〃　she　said；　looking　up　from　the　slip　of　paper。　〃Might　I　ask　where　this　verse　came　from？　And　why　you　are　seeking　an　orb？〃
〃You　might　ask；〃　Langdon　said；　with　a　friendly　smile；　〃but　it's　a　long　story　and　we　have　very　little　time。〃
〃Sounds　like　a　polite　way　of　saying　'mind　your　own　business。'　〃
〃We　would　be　forever　in　your　debt；　Pamela；〃　Langdon　said；　〃if　you　could　find　out　who　this　knight　is　and　where　he　is　buried。〃
〃Very　well；〃　Gettum　said；　typing　again。　〃I'll　play　along。　If　this　is　a　Grail…related　issue；　we　should　cross…reference　against　Grail　keywords。　I'll　add　a　proximity　parameter　and　remove　the　title　weighting。　That　will　limit　our　hits　only　to　those　instances　of　textual　keywords　that　occur　near　a　Grail…related　word。〃
Search　for：　KNIGHT；　LONDON；　POPE；　TOMB
Within　100　word　proximity　of：　GRAIL；　ROSE；　SANGREAL；　CHALICE
　
〃How　long　will　this　take？〃　Sophie　asked。
〃A　few　hundred　terabytes　with　multiple　cross…referencing　fields？〃　Gettum's　eyes　glimmered　as　she　clicked　the　SEARCH　key。　〃A　mere　fifteen　minutes。〃
Langdon　and　Sophie　said　nothing；　but　Gettum　sensed　this　sounded　like　an　eternity　to　them。
〃Tea？〃　Gettum　asked；　standing　and　walking　toward　the　pot　she　had　made　earlier。　〃Leigh　always　loves　my　tea。〃
　
CHAPTER　93

London's　Opus　Dei　Centre　is　a　modest　brick　building　at　5　Orme　Court；　overlooking　the　North　Walk　at　Kensington　Gardens。　Silas　had　never　been　here；　but　he　felt　a　rising　sense　of　refuge　and　asylum　as　he　approached　the　building　on　foot。　Despite　the　rain；　Rémy　had　dropped　him　off　a　short　distance　away　in　order　to　keep　the　limousine　off　the　main　streets。　Silas　didn't　mind　the　walk。　The　rain　was　cleansing。
At　Rémy's　suggestion；　Silas　had　wiped　down　his　gun　and　disposed　of　it　through　a　sewer　grate。　He　was　glad　to　get　rid　of　it。　He　felt　lighter。　His　legs　still　ached　from　being　bound　all　that　time；　but　Silas　had　endured　far　greater　pain。　He　wondered；　though；　about　Teabing；　whom　Rémy　had　left　bound　in　the　back　of　the　limousine。　The　Briton　certainly　had　to　be　feeling　the　pain　by　now。
〃What　will　you　do　with　him？〃　Silas　had　asked　Rémy　as　they　drove　over　here。
Rémy　had　shrugged。　〃That　is　a　decision　for　the　Teacher。〃　There　was　an　odd　finality　in　his　tone。
Now；　as　Silas　approached　the　Opus　Dei　building；　the　rain　began　to　fall　harder；　soaking　his　heavy　robe；　stinging　the　wounds　of　the　day　before。　He　was　ready　to　leave　behind　the　sins　of　the　last　twenty…four　hours　and　purge　his　soul。　His　work　was　done。
Moving　across　a　small　courtyard　to　the　front　door；　Silas　was　not　surprised　to　find　the　door　unlocked。　He　opened　it　and　stepped　into　the　minimalist　foyer。　A　muted　electronic　chime　sounded　upstairs　as　Silas　stepped　onto　the　carpet。　The　bell　was　a　mon　feature　in　these　halls　where　the　residents　spent　most　of　the　day　in　their　rooms　in　prayer。　Silas　could　hear　movement　above　on　the　creaky　wood　floors。
A　man　in　a　cloak　came　downstairs。　〃May　I　help　you？〃　He　had　kind　eyes　that　seemed　not　even　to　register　Silas's　startling　physical　appearance。
〃Thank　you。　My　name　is　Silas。　I　am　an　Opus　Dei　numerary。〃
〃American？〃
Silas　nodded。　〃I　am　in　town　only　for　the　day。　Might　I　rest　here？〃
〃You　need　not　even　ask。　There　are　two　empty　rooms　on　the　third　floor。　Shall　I　bring　you　some　tea　and　bread？〃
〃Thank　you。〃　Silas　was　famished。
Silas　went　upstairs　to　a　modest　room　with　a　window；　where　he　took　off　his　wet　robe　and　knelt　down　to　pray　in　his　undergarments。　He　heard　his　host　e　up　and　lay　a　tray　outside　his　door。　Silas　finished　his　prayers；　ate　his　food；　and　lay　down　to　sleep。
　
Three　stories　below；　a　phone　was　ringing。　The　Opus　Dei　numerary　who　had　weled　Silas　answered　the　line。
〃This　is　the　London　police；〃　the　caller　said。　〃We　are　trying　to　find　an　albino　monk。　We've　had　a　tip…off　that　he　might　be　there。　Have　you　seen　him？〃
The　numerary　was　startled。　〃Yes；　he　is　here。　Is　something　wrong？〃
〃He　is　there　now？〃
〃Yes；　upstairs　praying。　What　is　going　on？〃
〃Leave　him　precisely　where　he　is；〃　the　officer　manded。　〃Don't　say　a　word　to　anyone。　I'm　sending　officers　over　right　away。〃
　
CHAPTER　94

St。　James's　Park　is　a　sea　of　green　in　the　middle　of　London；　a　public　park　bordering　the　palaces　of　Westminster；　Buckingham；　and　St。　James's。　Once　enclosed　by　King　Henry　VIII　and　stocked　with　deer　for　the　hunt；　St。　James's　Park　is　now　open　to　the　public。　On　sunny　afternoons；　Londoners　picnic　beneath　the　willows　and　feed　the　pond's　resident　pelicans；　whose　ancestors　were　a　gift　to　Charles　II　from　the　Russian　ambassador。
The　Teacher　saw　no　pelicans　today。　The　stormy　weather　had　brought　instead　seagulls　from　the　ocean。　The　lawns　were　covered　with　them—hundreds　of　white　bodies　all　facing　the　same　direction；　patiently　riding　out　the　damp　wind。　Despite　the　morning　fog；　the　park　afforded　splendid　views　of　the　Houses　of　Parliament　and　Big　Ben。　Gazing　across　the　sloping　lawns；　past　the　duck　pond　and　the　delicate　silhouettes　of　the　weeping　willows；　the　Teacher　could　see　the　spires　of　the　building　that　housed　the　knight's　tomb—the　real　reason　he　had　told　Rémy　to　e　to　this　spot。
As　the　Teacher　approached　the　front　passenger　door　of　the　parked　limousine；　Rémy　leaned　across　and　opened　the　door。　The　Teacher　paused　outside；　taking　a　pull　from　the　flask　of　cognac　he　was　carrying。　Then；　dabbing　his　mouth；　he　slid　in　beside　Rémy　and　closed　the　door。
Rémy　held　up　the　keystone　like　a　trophy。　〃It　was　almost　lost。〃
〃You　have　done　well；〃　the　Teacher　said。
〃We　have　done　well；〃　Rémy　replied；　laying　the　keystone　in　the　Teacher's　eager　hands。
The　Teacher　admired　it　a　long　moment；　smiling。　〃And　the　gun？　You　wiped　it　down？〃
〃Back　in　the　glove　box　where　I　found　it。〃
〃Excellent。〃　The　Teacher　took　another　drink　of　cognac　and　handed　the　flask　to　Rémy。　〃Let's　toast　our　success。　The　end　is　near。〃
　
Rémy　accepted　the　bottle　gratefully。　The　cognac　tasted　salty；　but　Rémy　didn't　care。　He　and　the　Teacher　were　truly　partners　now。　He　could　feel　himself　ascending　to　a　higher　station　in　life。　I　will　never　be　a　servant　again。　As　Rémy　gazed　down　the　embankment　at　the　duck　pond　below；　Chateau　Villette　seemed　miles　away。
Taking　another　swig　from　the　flask；　Rémy