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.
