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«
Try
this
,
sir
,
»
whispered
the
female
docent
at
the
display
case
.
She
motioned
to
a
hand
mirror
affixed
to
the
display
on
a
chain
.
Langdon
picked
it
up
and
examined
the
text
in
the
mirror
’
s
surface
.
Instantly
it
was
clear
.
Langdon
had
been
so
eager
to
peruse
some
of
the
great
thinker
’
s
ideas
that
he
had
forgotten
one
of
the
man
’
s
numerous
artistic
talents
was
an
ability
to
write
in
a
mirrored
script
that
was
virtually
illegible
to
anyone
other
than
himself
.
Historians
still
debated
whether
Da
Vinci
wrote
this
way
simply
to
amuse
himself
or
to
keep
people
from
peering
over
his
shoulder
and
stealing
his
ideas
,
but
the
point
was
moot
.
Da
Vinci
did
as
he
pleased
.
Sophie
smiled
inwardly
to
see
that
Robert
understood
her
meaning
.
«
I
can
read
the
first
few
words
,
»
she
said
.
«
It
’
s
English
.
»
Teabing
was
still
sputtering
.
«
What
’
s
going
on
?
»
«
Reverse
text
,
»
Langdon
said
.
«
We
need
a
mirror
.
»
«
No
we
don
’
t
,
»
Sophie
said
.
«
I
bet
this
veneer
is
thin
enough
.
»
She
lifted
the
rosewood
box
up
to
a
canister
light
on
the
wall
and
began
examining
the
underside
of
the
lid
Her
grandfather
couldn
’
t
actually
write
in
reverse
,
so
he
always
cheated
by
writing
normally
and
then
flipping
the
paper
over
and
tracing
the
reversed
impression
.
Sophie
’
s
guess
was
that
he
had
wood
-
burned
normal
text
into
a
block
of
wood
and
then
run
the
back
of
the
block
through
a
sander
until
the
wood
was
paper
thin
and
the
wood
-
burning
could
be
seen
through
the
wood
.
Then
he
’
d
simply
flipped
the
piece
over
,
and
laid
it
in
.
As
Sophie
moved
the
lid
closer
to
the
light
,
she
saw
she
was
right
.
The
bright
beam
sifted
through
the
thin
layer
of
wood
,
and
the
script
appeared
in
reverse
on
the
underside
of
the
lid
.
Instantly
legible
.
»
English
,
»
Teabing
croaked
,
hanging
his
head
in
shame
.
«
My
native
tongue
.
»
At
the
rear
of
the
plane
,
Rémy
Legaludec
strained
to
hear
beyond
the
rumbling
engines
,
but
the
conversation
up
front
was
inaudible
.
Rémy
did
not
like
the
way
the
night
was
progressing
.
Not
at
all
.
He
looked
down
at
the
bound
monk
at
his
feet
.
The
man
lay
perfectly
still
now
,
as
if
in
a
trance
of
acceptance
,
or
perhaps
,
in
silent
prayer
for
deliverance
.
Fifteen
thousand
feet
in
the
air
,
Robert
Langdon
felt
the
physical
world
fade
away
as
all
of
his
thoughts
converged
on
Saunière
’
s
mirror
-
image
poem
,
which
was
illuminated
through
the
lid
of
the
box
.
