Потерянный континент: история Атлантиды
18. Storm Of The Sacred Mountain
Telloffright?BytheGods!Iwasscaredastheveriesttremblerwhoblunderedamongstthedust-cloudsthatnightwhenthethoughtcametome.
Withallthatruinspreadaround,itwouldbehopelesstothinkthatanyofthosesecretgallerieswhichtunnelledunderthegroundwouldbeleftunbroken,andsoitwasuselesstotryapassageunderthewallsbytheoldmeans.ButIhadheardshoutsfromthatfrightenedmobwhichcametomethroughthedinandthedarkness,thatgaveanotherideaforescape.“Thecityisaccursed,”theyhadcried:“ifwestayhereitwillfallonus.Letusgetoutsidethewallswheretherearenobuildingstoburyus.”
Iftheywent,Icouldnotsee.Butonegatelaynearesttotheroyalpyramid,andIjudgedthatintheirpanictheywouldnotgofartherthanwasneedful.SoIputthebodyofNaisovermyshoulder(toleavemyrightarmfree)andblunderedoffasbestIcouldthroughthestiflingdarkness.
Itwashardtofindadirection;itwashardtowalkintheinkydarknessovergroundthatwastossedandtumbledlikeafrozensea:andastheearthstillquakedandheaved,itwashardalsotokeepafooting.ButifIdidfallmyselfascoreoftimes,mydearburdengotnobruise,andpresentlyIgottotheskirtsofthesquare,andfoundastreetIknew.Themostvenomouspartoftheshakingwasdone,andnomorebuildingsfell,butenoughlaysprawledovertheroadwaytomakewalkingintoaclimb,andthesweatrolledfrommeasIlabouredalongmyway.
Therewasnodifficultyaboutpassingthegate.Therewasnogate.Therewasnowall.
