Потерянный континент: история Атлантиды
12. The Drug Of Our Lady The Moon
Myself,Iwassloweroffoot;and,besides,therewassomethatofferedmeafightontheroad,andIwasnotwishfultobaulkthem;andmoreover,thefewerweleftclamouringbehind,thefewertherewouldbetospeedourgoingwiththeirstones.StillIcametothebeachingoodorder,andlaidhandsontheflimsyboatandtippedherdry.
“Fightingisnotradefor,me,”Icried,“whilstyouarehere,Phorenice.Guardmemybackandwalkoutintothewater.”
Itooktheboat,thrustingitafloat,andwadingwithittilltwolinesofthesurfwerepast.Thefishersswarmedroundus,activeasfishintheirnativeelement,andstrovemightilytogethandsontheboatandslitthehideswhichcovereditwiththeireagerfingers.ButIhadasparehand,andashortstabbing-knifeforsuchclose-quarterwork,andhere,there,andeverywherewasPhorenicetheEmpress,withherthirstydrippingsword.BytheGods!Ilaughedwithsheerdelightatseeingherartoffence.
Buttheswirlofagreatfishintotheshallows,andthesquealofafisherashewasdraggeddownandhomeawayintothedeep,madememindfuloffoesthatnoskillcanconquer,andnobraveryavoid.WithouttakingtimetogivetheEmpressawordofwarning,Istooped,andflunganarmroundher,andthrewherupoutofthewaterintotheboat,andthenthrustonwithallmymight,drivingtheflimsycraftouttosea,whilstmylegscreptundermeforfearofthebeastswhichswaminvisiblebeneaththemuddiedwaters.
