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Is
there
time
?
He
knew
it
didn
’
t
matter
.
Without
hesitation
,
Langdon
broke
into
a
sprint
back
toward
the
stairs
.
Kneeling
in
the
first
pew
,
Silas
pretended
to
pray
as
he
scanned
the
layout
of
the
sanctuary
.
Saint
-
Sulpice
,
like
most
churches
,
had
been
built
in
the
shape
of
a
giant
Roman
cross
.
Its
long
central
section
–
the
nave
–
led
directly
to
the
main
altar
,
where
it
was
transversely
intersected
by
a
shorter
section
,
known
as
the
transept
.
The
intersection
of
nave
and
transept
occurred
directly
beneath
the
main
cupola
and
was
considered
the
heart
of
the
church
…
her
most
sacred
and
mystical
point
.
Not
tonight
,
Silas
thought
.
Saint
-
Sulpice
hides
her
secrets
elsewhere
.
Turning
his
head
to
the
right
,
he
gazed
into
the
south
transept
,
toward
the
open
area
of
floor
beyond
the
end
of
the
pews
,
to
the
object
his
victims
had
described
.
There
it
is
.
Embedded
in
the
gray
granite
floor
,
a
thin
polished
strip
of
brass
glistened
in
the
stone
…
a
golden
line
slanting
across
the
church
’
s
floor
.
The
line
bore
graduated
markings
,
like
a
ruler
.
It
was
a
gnomon
,
Silas
had
been
told
,
a
pagan
astronomical
device
like
a
sundial
.
Tourists
,
scientists
,
historians
,
and
pagans
from
around
the
world
came
to
Saint
-
Sulpice
to
gaze
upon
this
famous
line
.
The
Rose
Line
.
Slowly
,
Silas
let
his
eyes
trace
the
path
of
the
brass
strip
as
it
made
its
way
across
the
floor
from
his
right
to
left
,
slanting
in
front
of
him
at
an
awkward
angle
,
entirely
at
odds
with
the
symmetry
of
the
church
.
Slicing
across
the
main
altar
itself
,
the
line
looked
to
Silas
like
a
slash
wound
across
a
beautiful
face
.
