The Lost ContinentHyne, Charles John Cutcliffe Wright
Science
The Lost Continent
Hyne, Charles John Cutcliffe Wright
Atlantis (Legendary place) -- Fiction; Fantasy fiction; Lost continents -- Fiction; Science fiction
I could not lie to her any more just then. The Gods know how honestly I
had striven to play the part commanded me for Atlantis’ good, but there
is a limit to human endurance, and mine was reached. I was not all anger
towards her. I had some pity for this passion of hers, which had grown
of itself certainly, but which I had done nothing to check; and the
indecent frankness with which it was displayed was only part of the
livery of potentates who flaunt what meaner folk would coyly hide. But
always before my eyes was a picture of the girl on whom her jealousy had
taken such a bitter vengeance, and to invent spurious lover’s talk then
was a thing my tongue refused to do.
“Words are poor things,” I said, “and I am a man unused to women, and
have but a small stock of any phrases except the dryest. Remember,
Phorenice, a week agone, I did not know what love was, and now that I
have learned the lesson, somewhat of the suddenest, the language remains
still to come to me. My inwards speak; indeed they are full of speech;
but I cannot translate into bald cold words what they say.”
And here, surely the High Gods took pity on my tied tongue and my
misery, and made an opportunity for bringing the ceremony to an end. A
man ran into the square shouting, and showing a wound that dripped,
and presently all that vast crowd which stood on the pavements, and the
sides of the pyramids, and the roofs of the temples, took up the cry,
and began to feel for their weapons.
“The rebels are in!” “They have burrowed a path into the city!” “They
have killed the cave-tigers and taken a gate!” “They are putting the
whole place to the storm!” “They will presently leave no poor soul of us
here alive!”
There then was a termination of our marriage cooings. With rebels merely
biting at the walls, it was fine to put strong trust in the defences,
and easy to affect contempt for the besiegers’ powers, and to keep
the business of pageants and state craft and marryings turning on easy
wheels. But with rebel soldiers already inside the city (and hordes of
others doubtless pressing on their heels), the affairs took a different
light. It was no moment for further delay, and Phorenice was the first
to admit it. The glow that had been in her eyes changed to the glare of
the fighter, as the fellow who had run up squalled out his tidings.
I stood and stretched my chest. I seemed in need of air. “Here,” I said,
“is work that I can understand more clearly. I will go and sweep this
rabble back to their burrows, Phorenice.”
“But not alone, sir. I come too. It is my city still. Nay, sir, we are
too newly wed to be parted yet.”
“Have your will,” I said, and together we went down the steps of the
throne to the pavement below. Under my breath I said a farewell to Nais.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account