“Thou art but man. Therefore must hope join hands with dread, at times. But tell me, why, if the children were so much before thee when in Atlantis, didst thou not know of the Pelasgian speech of the queen?” She smiled through her tears, hoping to tease him a little.
But he was ready. “Smile, if thou wilt, Pyrrha. Then will I. It was not every day that I could see them; but only on those days when Atlantean was spoken. Thou wilt call to mind that thou didst tell me the talk of one day was in Atlantean, the next in Pelasgian.”
“Ah, but thou hast the last! As I might have known. Never art thou at a loss!”
“Not whilst thou art of earth, Pyrrha. All is gain, cheer, with thee beside me. And now wilt thou do thy best. For my heart faileth.”
“Yet here am I jesting, smiling.”
“It is well. But, ah, the vision! How plain was it. Thus are we warned. But woe to Prince Pelasgus!”
“What is it?”
“His father is not of earth. He is with his wife above.”
“Deucalion!”
“Yea, yea, I feel it. Call to mind that I felt the ruin that was to come upon Atlantis: and, that with all, I should save our children. Call to mind that I felt their state in Atlantis even before my inner sight showed such. Think how often I saw them afterward when under the care of the queen. Did not I picture the queen? Did not I tell thee of their daily life?”