Moreover, Azu served them. He was quite himself now that Deucalion had assured him the queen would recover, that he would again bear her train. Though, in this serving, his lurches threatened the gravity of the eaters full as much as the downfalling of the things he bore. Indeed, not a few of the latter came to grief, thus conducing to the lightening of spirit of those being served. Azu was Azu.
The night was soft and bright, to the comfort of Deucalion, Sensel, and Hellen, who reposed on couches under the awning, using the rugs as coverings. The oarsmen spread themselves about the deck. As to the ladies, they were well housed in the withdrawing room.
Every night was as this in temperature. Never a cloud obscured the heavens. Thus were they favored.
But a few more days, and the sails of the three returning vessels were sighted. Then, as had been agreed, all the waiting vessels save the one containing the queen, went noiselessly out to meet them. Laggard was the approach of these three: and this told the story. At last they met, far out on the water.
The queen’s galley was ahead of the other two; and, at its prow, stood the bowed form of the captain. Now was the worst verified!
They called on him to speak.
Slow were his words in coming: though, they burst forth with frantic vehemence.
“Atlanteans, we hearkened unto the truth! Our island hath vanished—all save the highest peaks[[25]] far to the northeast! Scarce could we push to where it hath lain for the mud and ashes that thicken the water!—And dead men fill the sea even as the fishes!”
CHAPTER XVIII.
PYRRHA.
Soft continued the nights and bright the days as they sailed by the islands, and along the Afrite Coast. Quick were they in sighting the green gay Atlas Mountains, and then Cape Spartel. Upon viewing the latter, intense became Deucalion’s emotion. With eyes eager and face flushing, he cried in husky tones: “Ah Æole, Hellen, now is your mother near! With what a heart I passed yon point to go onward to Atlantis! Sensel, can we ever forget?”