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
The lamp was in place, and I made my way along the windings swiftly. The
air, so it seemed to me, was even more noxious with vapours than it had
been when I was down there before, and I judged that Zaemon had already
begun to stir those internal activities which were shortly to convulse
the city. But again I had difficulty in finding an exit, and this, not
because there were people moving about at the places where I had to come
out, but because the set of the masonry was entirely changed. In olden
times the Priests’ Clan oversaw all the architects’ plans, and ruled out
anything likely to clash with their secret passages and chambers. But
in this modern day the Priests were of small account, and had no say in
this matter, and the architects often through sheer blundering sealed up
and made useless many of these outlets and hiding-places.
As it was then, I had to get out of the network of tunnels and galleries
where I could, and not where I would, and in the event found myself at
the farther side of the city, almost up to where the outer wall joins
down to the harbour. I came out without being seen, careful even in this
moment of extremity to preserve the ordinances, and closed all traces of
exit behind me. The earth seemed to spring beneath my feet like the deck
of a ship in smooth water; and though there was no actual movement as
yet to disturb the people, and indeed these slept on in their houses and
shelters without alarm, I could feel myself that the solid deadness
of the ground was gone, and that any moment it might break out into
devastating waves of movement.
Gods! Should I be too late to see the untombing of my love? Would she be
laid there bare to the public gaze when presently the people swarmed out
into the open spaces through fear at what the great earth tremor might
cause to fall? I could see, in fancy, their rude, cruel hands thrust
upon her as she lay there helpless, and my inwards dried up at the
thought.
I ran madly down and down the narrow winding streets with the one
thought of coming to the square which lay in front of the royal pyramid
before these things came to pass. With exquisite cruelty I had been
forced with my own hands to place her alive in her burying-place beneath
the granite throne, and if thews and speed could do it, I would not miss
my reward of taking her forth again with the same strong hands.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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