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 obeyed his last command, and went down the stair, and closed all
ingress behind me. There were bolts placed ready, and I shot these into
their sockets, and there were Nais and I alone, and cut off from all the
rest of our world that remained.
I went to the place where she lay, and put my arms tightly around her.
Without, we heard men beating desperately on the Ark with their weapons,
and some even climbed by the battens to the top and wrenched to try and
move the door from its fastenings. The end was coming very nearly to
them now, and the great crowd of them were mad with terror.
I would have given much to have known how Phorenice fared in that final
tumult, and how she faced it. I could see her, with her lovely face, and
her wondrous eyes, and her ruddy hair curling about her neck, and by
all the Gods! I thought more of her at that last moment than of the
poor land she had conquered, and misgoverned, and brought to this horrid
destruction. There is no denying the fascination which Phorenice carried
with her.
But the end did not dally long with its coming. There was a little surge
that lifted the Ark a hand’s breadth or so in its cradle, and set it
back again with a jar and a quiver. The blows from axes and weapons
ceased on its lower part, but redoubled into frenzied batterings on its
rounded roof. There were some screams and cries also which came to
us but dully through the thickness of its ponderous sheathing, though
likely enough they were sent forth at the full pitch of human lungs
outside. And when another surge came, roaring and thundering, which
picked up the great vessel as though it had been a feather, and spun it
giddily; and after that we touched earth or rock no more.
We tossed about on the crest and troughs of delirious seas, a sport for
the greedy Gods of the ocean. The lamp had fallen, and we crouched there
in darkness, dully weighed with the burden of knowledge that we alone
were saved out of what was yesterday a mighty nation.
20. ON THE BOSOM OF THE DEEP
The Ark was rudderless, oarless, and machineless, and could travel only
where the High Gods chose. The inside was dark, and full of an ancient
smell, and crowded with groanings and noise. I could not find the
fire-box to relight the fallen lamp, and so we had to endure blindly
what was dealt out to us. The waves tossed us in merciless sport, and I
clung on by the side of Nais, holding her to the bed. We did not speak
much, but there was full companionship in our bereavement and our
silence.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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