Потерянный континент: история Атлантиды

7. The Biters Of The Walls (Further Account)

           Itwasnotdecentthatthewoman,beinganAtlantean,shouldgobereftofthedignityofclothes,asthoughshewereameresavagefromEurope;andsoIsoughtaboutamongstthecaptain’sspoilforgarmentsthatwouldbebefitting.

           But,asIbusiedmyselfinthissearchforraiment,rummagingamongsttheheapsandbales,withahandandeyelittleskilledinsuchbusiness,Iheardasoundbehindwhichcausedmetoturnmyhead,andtherewasthewomanwithadaggershehadpickedfromthefloor,intheactofdrawingitfromthesheath.

           Shecaughtmyeyeanddrewtheweaponclear,butseeingthatImadenoadvancetowardsher,ormovetoprotectmyself,waitedwhereshewas,andpresentlywastookwithashuddering.

           “Yourdesignsseemsomewhatofariddle,”Isaid.“Atfirstyouwishedtokillmefrommotiveswhichyouexplained,andwhichIquiteunderstood.Itlayinmypowernexttoconfersomesmallbenefituponyou,inconsequenceofwhichyouarehere,andnot—shallwesay?—yonderinthecircus.Whyyoushoulddesirenowtokilltheonlymanherewhocansetyoucompletelyfree,andbeyondthesewalls,isathingitwouldgratifymemuchtolearn.Isaynothingofthetrifleofingratitude.Gratitudeandingratitudeareoflittleweighthere.Thereissomefargreaterinyourmind.”

           Shepressedahandhardagainstherbreasts.“YouareDeucalion,”shegasped;“Iheardyousayit.”

           “IamDeucalion.Sofar,Ihaveknownnoreasontofeelshameformyname.

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