第82部分(第5/7 頁)

already　mentioned　how　at　times　a　detail—the　wing　of　a

bird； the way a leaf is attached to a tree—can be preserved in memory for

generations；　passing　from　master　to　apprentice；　and　yet　might　not　manifest　on

the　page　due　to　the　influence　of　a　moody　or　rigid　master　or　on　account　of　the

particular　tastes　and　whims　of　a　particular　workshop　or　sultan。　So　then；　this　is

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the　horse　that　dear　Olive；　in　his　childhood；　learned　directly　from　the　Persian

masters　without　ever　being　able　to　forget　it。　The　fact　that　the　horse　suddenly

appeared　for　the　sake　of　Enishte’s　book　is　a　cruel　trick　of　Allah’s。　Hadn’t　all　of

us taken the old masters of Herat as our models？ Just like the Turkmen

illustrators　for　whom　the　face　of　a　beautiful　woman　meant　one　with　Chinese

features； didn’t we think exclusively of the masterpieces of Herat when we

thought of well…executed pictures？ We are all their devoted admirers。

Nourishing　all　great　art　is　the　Herat　of　Bihzad；　and　supporting　this　Herat　are

the　Mongol　horsemen　and　the　Chinese。　Why　should　Olive；　thoroughly　bound

to the legends of Herat； murder poor Elegant Effendi； who was even more

bound—even　blindly　devoted—to　the　same　old　methods？”

“Who　then？”　I　said。　“Butterfly？”

“Stork！”　he　said。　“This　is　what　I　know　in　my　heart　of　hearts；　for　I　am　well

acquainted　with　his　greed　and　fury。　Listen；　in　all　probability　while　gilding　for

your Enishte； who foolishly and clumsily imitated Frankish methods； poor

Elegant Effendi came to believe that this venture might somehow be

dangerous。　Since　he　was　enough　of　a　dolt　to　listen　e