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Roman numerals, where was that book? She took down Plutarch's Lives from her father's shelves and found the date of publication in Roman numerals, only three years before, perfect.

Taking a sheet of notepaper from her father's desk, and dipping his pen, she hastily wrote out the correct date. But how to make it known to him the beginning of the system?

Cleopatra was close enough, but she feared to use Cleopatra's name, for all the obvious reasons. Then the clearest example came to her.

She wrote out in hand, printed letters the name Octavius Caesar. He nodded. She made a Roman numeral one beneath it. Then she drew a long horizontal line, moving to the very right edge of the page, and she wrote her own name Julie, and the full date in Roman numerals. And after that the Latin word: annum.

He blanched. He looked at the paper for a long time, and then the colour appeared to dance in his cheeks. There was no doubt he understood her. His expression became grave, then curiously philosophical. He seemed to be pondering rather than absorbing a shock. She wrote the word century, and then the Roman numeral for one hundred, and the word annus. He nodded a little impatiently, yes, yes, he understood.

Then he folded his arms and walked slowly around the room. She could not guess what he was thinking.

"A long time," she whispered. "Tempus ... tempus fugit!" She was embarrassed suddenly. Time flies? But it was all the Latin she could think of. He was smiling at her. Was it a cliche two thousand years ago?

He approached the desk, and leaning over her gently, he took the pen and carefully drew the Egyptian cartouche which spelled his name in hieroglyphs, Ramses the Great. Then he too drew a horizontal line stretching across the page almost to the edge, where he wrote Cleopatra. In the very middle of that line he wrote the Roman numeral M meaning one thousand years; and then the arabic numbers for it which she had only taught him an hour ago.

He gave her a moment to read this. And then he wrote beneath his cartouche the arabic numerals 3000.

"Ramses is three thousand years old," she said, pointing to him, "and Ramses knows it."

He nodded again, and smiled. What was his expression? Sad, resigned, merely thoughtful? There was a great dark flicker of pain in his eyes. The smile did not break, but she saw it, and she saw a subtle puckering of the lids beneath his eyes as he pondered this himself, and apparently moved back from it emotionally. He looked about the room now as if he were seeing it for the first time. He looked at the ceiling, and then at the floor, and then directly at the bust of Cleopatra. His eyes were as wide as before, his smile as soft and agreeable, but the something was gone from his face. The vigour. It had completely vanished.

When he looked at her again, there was a thin glaze of tears in his eyes. She couldn't bear it. She reached out and clasped his left hand. His fingers curled around hers, squeezing them tenderly.

"Very many years, Julie," he said. "Very many years. The world unseen by me. Do I speak clearly?"

"Oh, yes, indeed you do," she said.

He studied her, whispering slowly, and almost reverently, "Very many many years, Julie." And then he smiled. And his smile became broader. And then his shoulders began to shake. And she realized he was laughing. "Two thousand years, Julie." He laughed outright. And the look of wild excitement returned, the look of heightened vitality. Only slowly di

d his eyes turn to the bust of Cleopatra. He stared at it for a long moment, and then he looked at Julie again, and the curiosity and optimism had returned. For that was it, a great vigorous optimism.

She wanted to kiss him. In fact, the urge was so strong it amazed her. It wasn't merely the beauty of his face, it was the deep resonant quality of his voice, and the look of pain in his eyes, and the way he smiled at her now, and reached up and touched her hair ever so respectfully. Chills ran down her back.

"Ramses is immortal," she said. "Ramses has vitam eternam."

A small polite laugh of acknowledgment came from him. A nod. "Yes," he said. "Vitam eternam."

Was she feeling love for this man? Or merely an infatuation so overpowering it swept every other consideration out of her mind? Even Henry and what he had done, that he had killed her father?

Henry must wait. Justice had to wait. Unless she was to kill Henry herself, and that was quite unthinkable. But this, this was everything now, this man sitting before her. Her hatred for Henry would have its day. Henry was heading towards God's justice more surely than any human being she had ever known.

And she stood gazing into these magnificent blue eyes, feeling the warmth of the hand that held hers, swept into this man's future by a miracle.

There was a violent noise from the street. It could only have been a motor car. He heard it, there was no doubt of that; but only very slowly did he respond, looking away from her and towards the front windows. Then placing his arm very lightly on her shoulder, he guided her with him to the front of the house.

What a gentleman he was; what a strange courtly being. He peered out through the lace at what must surely have been a shocking spectacle--an Italian roadster idling, with two young men in the front seat, both of them waving at a young lady who was walking on the pavement opposite. The driver sounded the horn, a nasty loud thing, and it gave Ramses a bad start. But he continued to look at the rumbling, backfiring open car, not with fear, but with curiosity. As the thing began to move, and then lurched down the street, his curiosity gave way to utter astonishment.

"Motor car," she said. "It runs on gasoline. It is a machine. An invention."

"Motor car!" He moved immediately to the front door, and opened it.

"No, you must come, get properly dressed," she said. "Vestments, proper vestments."

"Shirt, tie, trousers, shoes," he said.

She laughed. He made a gesture for her to wait. She watched as he went into the Egyptian room, and studied the long line of alabaster jars. He selected one, and turned it to reveal a small hidden compartment at the base, which was now opened. Out of this he took several gold coins. He brought these to her.

"Vestments," he said.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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