The Curse of Pharaohs. A novel

Lepont nodded in relief and smiled gratefully, and then Gregson finished: “In general, I would prefer that, instead of poetic beauties, books contain clear, accurate and useful information and be written in such a way that the reader could understand their exact meaning without special effort.”

“You are a scientist, Monsieur Lepont,” the colonel smiled, “you should evaluate the information from the sources critically. And what if other information from this book, say, facts about Egyptian antiquities, is as reliable as the above passage? And what if the wonderful drawings in the book (yes, yes, I am also well familiar with this book!), so what if the drawings are not made from nature at all, but, say, from other drawings?”

Lepont silently snatched the book from Gregson’s hands and, without deigning to answer the colonel, strode away. The colonel and the secretary smiled, put their fingers to the brims of their hats at the same time, and also left.

“Poor boy!” Mademoiselle Saad sighed.

Gregson did not understand: “Are you talking about Monsieur Lepont?”

“No, about our poet, who was mortally offended by you for his idol Rimbaud. A little more and he would have challenged you to a duel. With his passion for the beauties of poetry, he would never achieve true love of a woman.”

Gregson was surprised. “Why? They say women are crazy about poets.”

“Sometimes women dream of moving from poetic images to sensual reality. The feeling of love must condense alchemically and transmute into action. Go from ghostly phosphorescent glow to real phosphorus. And poetry… It takes the feelings in a completely different direction. And I am very impressed by your practical realism!”

She looked directly into Gregson’s eyes and for a moment his breath was taken away and his heart stopped.

“You are very special Arabian woman!“all he managed to say.

Mademoiselle Saad laughed: “Do you really have anyone to compare?”

“I’ve seen enough Arabian women in Bedouin tents when I was in the army,” Gregson retorted.

“Did you only see them or…?”

“Well…” Gregson hesitated and almost squeezed out. “One of them helped me learn Arabic for a long time.”

“Then you shouldn’t have prejudices about Arabian women.”

“I don’t have any.”

“Then come to my cabin tonight! Let’s improve your Arabic language.”

Gregson did not know what to say to such a frank offer and hesitated with an answer. Mademoiselle Saad looked not only extremely attractive, but also somehow dangerous.

“Maybe you have more exotic preferences?” Mademoiselle Saad egged on. “For example, like a couple of Monsieur Lepont and Monsieur Verte?”

She was openly making fun of him. Such an assumption could not be tolerated in any way. Gregson was angry: first, at Mademoiselle Saad, and then suddenly at himself. Why, unlike her, he had not figured out such an obvious explanation for the appearance and behavior of those two.

“I will come. I would hate to miss such unique opportunity to improve my language when you are teaching!”

She gave him a quick glance. Her eyes seemed to be laughing at him. “Then I’ll be waiting for you tonight. Better later.”

She turned and walked away at a brisk pace. Gregson remained standing, staring unseeingly at the sea foam. This woman seems to be gaining control over him. It is dangerous!

A quarter of an hour later a flock of dolphins appeared near the board attracting curious and simply bored passengers. Colonel Watson came up to Gregson, who was standing alone, smiling: “This Mademoiselle Saad is such a hottie, isn’t she? Beware!”

“How do you know?”

The colonel just shrugged his shoulders and smiled into his moustache: “My secretary is putting the moves to Miss Saad’s maid. It was from her that he learned about Mademoiselle Saad laying eyes on you. However, a simple observation would be enough for this conclusion. The challenges of destiny must be accepted. The one evading a challenge is at risk of not living his life. As the Romans used to say: Audaces fortuna juvat. The same rule applies to countries, states, and peoples…”

“And has your observancy told you anything about Monsieur Lepont and Monsieur Verte?” Gregson asked suddenly.

“Of course!” The colonel grinned. “These two are not your rivals in love at all.”

“You are very well informed.” That is all Gregson managed to answer.

“Yes, knowing everything is my profession.” The colonel nodded. “But knowing everything is a rather tedious trade.”

“And what do you do?”

“I am an advisor.” The colonel smiled into his moustache. “I am engaged in painting a picture of the world for big people who have power and make important decisions. Therefore, I need to present the picture of the world first of all to myself and then help others to grasp it.”

“What do you advise big people?”

“Basically, actions in politics. For example, who should be the governor? And who should be the president. On which side is it better for America to enter the war. Or how to use images of dinosaurs to benefit America…”

Gregson did not understand if the colonel was joking, and changed the subject just in case: “I think you said Fortis fortuna adiuvat. That’s the motto of the American military, isn’t it? Where did you serve in the army? Did you fight in Europe?”

The Colonel laughed: “God forbid! I am not a military man in the least. Military service completely discourages the ability to think independently. Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, because you served yourself. And if you’re talking about my rank of colonel, believe it or not, I carry it with full right: in America, such a title can be obtained for the most unusual services, and not only military ones. I admit, it tickles when people call me colonel: this title always amuses me extremely.”

“And the fact that I served in the army, is it so noticeable?” Gregson was surprised.

“In your case, it’s obvious. And quite understandable because of the recent war. But what is more interesting is that you are still traveling not entirely in your own personal interests. Is that right?”