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
It was a hard task, but we who hold the higher offices learn to carry
before the people a passionless face. Once, twenty years before, these
same fine obeisances had been made to me; now the Gods had seen fit to
make fortune change. But as I walked bent and humbly on behind the heels
of Tatho, though etiquette forbade noisy salutations to myself, it could
not inhibit kindly glances, and these came from every soldier, every
courtier, and every chief who stood there in that gilded hall, and
they fell upon me very gratefully. It is not often the fallen meet such
tender looks.
The form goes, handed down from immemorial custom, that on these great
ceremonial days of changing a ruler, those of the people being present
may bring forward petitions and requests; may make accusations against
their retiring head with sure immunity from his vengeance; or may state
their own private theories for the better government of the State in the
future. I think it may be pardoned to my vanity if I record that not a
voice was raised against me, or against any of the items of my twenty
years of rule. Nor did any speak out for alterations in the future.
Yes, even though we made the circuit for the three prescribed times, all
present showed their approval in generous silence.
Then, one behind the other, the new Viceroy and the old, we marched with
formal step over golden tiles of that council hall beneath the pyramid,
and the great officers of state left their stations and joined in our
train; and at the farther wall we came to the door of those private
chambers which an hour ago had been mine own.
Ah, well! I had no home now in any of those wondrous cities of Yucatan,
and I could not help feeling a bitterness, though in sooth I should have
been thankful enough to return to the Continent of Atlantis with my head
still in its proper station.
Tatho gave his formal summons of “Open ye to the Viceroy,” which the
ritual commands, and the slaves within sent the massive stone valves of
the door gaping wide. Tatho entered, I at his heels; the others halted,
sending valedictions from the threshold; and the valves of the door
clanged on the lock behind us. We passed on to the chamber beyond, and
then, when for the first time we were alone together, and the forced
etiquette of courts was behind us, the new Viceroy turned with meekly
folded arms, and bowed low before me.
“Deucalion,” he said, “believe me that I have not sought this office. It
was thrust upon me. Had I not accepted, my head would have paid forfeit,
and another man--your enemy--would have been sent out as viceroy in
your place. The Empress does not permit that her will shall ever be
questioned.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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