Потерянный континент: история Атлантиды
14. Again The Gods Make Change
Iclampedandlockedthelasttwobarsinplace,andtookmybrute’shandawayfromherthroat.
Thehatefulfingermarksshowedasbloodlessfurrowsinthewhitenessofherskin.Forthelifeofme,yes,evenforthefateofAtlantis,Icouldnothelpdroppingmyglanceuponherface.ButshewasstrongerthanI.Shegavemenolastlook.Shekepthereyessteadfastlyfixedonthecruelstoneabove,andsoIlefther,knowingthatitwasbestnottotarrylonger.
Icameoutfromunderthestone,andgavethesigntotheengineerswhostoodbytherams.Thefiresweretakenawayfromtheirsides,andthemetalinthembegantocontract,andslowlythevastbulkofthethrone-stonebegantocreepdowntowardsitsbed.
Butah,soslowly!Gods!howmysoulwastornasIwatchedandwaited.
YetIkeptmyfaceimpassive,overlookingasanyofficermightapieceofworkwhichotherswerecarryingoutunderhisdirection,andonwhichhiscreditrested;andIstoodgravelyinmyplacetilltheramshadletthestonecomedownonitsfinalrestingplace,andhadbeencarriedawaybytheengineers;andthenIwentroundwiththemasterarchitectwithhisplumblineandlevel,whilsthetestedthislastpieceofthebuildinganddeclareditperfect.
Itwasauselessform,thislast,seeingthatbycalculationtheyknewexactlyhowthestonemustrest;buttheguildshavetheirformsandcustoms,andontheseoccasionsofhighceremonial,theyarepunctiliouslycarriedout,becausethesemiddle-classpeoplewishalwaystoappearmysteriousandimpressivetothepoorvulgarfolkwhoaretheirinferiors.
