Потерянный континент: история Атлантиды
18. Storm Of The Sacred Mountain
WithexquisitecrueltyIhadbeenforcedwithmyownhandstoplaceheraliveinherburying-placebeneaththegranitethrone,andifthewsandspeedcoulddoit,Iwouldnotmissmyrewardoftakingherforthagainwiththesamestronghands.
Fewdisturbedthatfurioushurry.Atfirsthereandtheresomewretchwhoharbouredintheguttercried:“Athief!ThrowashareorIpursue.”Butifanyofthesefollowed,Idonotknow.Atanyrate,myspeedthenmusthaveout-distancedanyone.Presently,too,astheswingoftheearthunderfootbecamemorekeen,andthestoneworkofthebuildingsbythestreetsidebegantograteandgroanandgrit,andsentforthlittleshowersofdust,peoplebegantorunwithscaredcriesfromoutoftheirdoors.Butnoneofthesehadamindtostoptheragged,shaggy,savagemanwhoransoswiftlypast,andflungthemudfromhisnakedfeet.
AndsointimeIcametothegreatsquare,andwastherenonetoosoon.Theplacewasfillingwithpeoplewhoflockedawayfromthenarrowstreets,anditwasfullofdarkness,andnoise,anddust,andsickness.Beneathusthegroundrippledinundulationslikeasea,whichwithterrifyingslownessgrewmoreandmoreintense.
Everandagainahousecrasheddownunseeninthegloom,andaddedtothetumult.Butthegreatpyramidhadbeenplannedbyitsoldbuilderstostandrudeshocks.Itsstonesweredovetailedintooneanotherwithamarvellouscleverness,andwerefurtherclampedandjoinedbyponderoustonguesofmetal.
