Atlantida

It seemed as if she would never go. I was touched, but at the same

time vexed. I felt a great need of withdrawing into myself.

"My room is above yours," she said. "There is a copper gong on the

table here. You have only to strike if you want anything. A white

Targa will answer."

For a second, these instructions amused me. I was in a hotel in the

midst of the Sahara. I had only to ring for service.

I looked about my room. My room! For how long?

It was fairly large. Cushions, a couch, an alcove cut into the rock,

all lighted by a great window covered by a matting shade.

I went to the window and raised the shade. The light of the setting

sun entered.

I leaned my elbows on the rocky sill. Inexpressible emotion filled my

heart. The window faced south. It was about two hundred feet above the

ground. The black, polished volcanic wall yawned dizzily below me.

In front of me, perhaps a mile and a half away, was another wall, the

first enclosure mentioned in the Critias. And beyond it in the

distance, I saw the limitless red desert.