e first time I dared to go up
the stair, and open the door which stood in the roof of the Ark.

The sweet air came gushing down to freshen the foulness within, and as
the Ark rode dryly over the seas, I went below and brought up Nais to
gain refreshment from the curing rays of our Lord the Sun. Duly the pair
of us adored Him, and gave thanks for His great mercy in coming to light
another day, and then we laid ourselves down where we were to doze, and
take that easy rest which we so urgently needed.

Yet, though I was tired beyond words, for long enough sleep would not
visit me. Wearily I stared out over the oily sunlit waters. No blur
of land met the eye. The ring of ocean was unbroken on every side, and
overhead the vault of heaven remained unchanged. The bosom of the deep
was littered with the poor wreckage of Atlantis, to remind one, if there
had been a need, that what had come about was fact, and not some horrid
dream. Trees, squared timber, a smashed and upturned boat of hides, and
here and there the rounded corpse of a man or beast shouldered over the
swells, and kept convoy with our Ark as she drifted on in charge of the
Gods and the current.

But sleep came to me at last, and I dropped off into unconsciousness,
holding the hand of Nais in mine, and when next I woke, I found her
open-eyed also and watching me tenderly. We were finely rested, both of
us, and rest and strength bring one complacency. We were more ready
now to accept the station which the High Gods had made for us without
repining, and so we went below again into the belly of the Ark to eat
and drink and maintain strength for the new life which lay before us.

A wonderful vessel was this Ark, now we were able to see it at leisure
and intimately. Although for the first time now in all its centuries
of life it swam upon the waters, it showed no leak or suncrack. Inside,
even its floor was bone dry. That it was built from some wood, one could
see by the grainings, but nowhere could one find suture or joint. The
living timbers had been put in place and then grown together by an
art which we have lost to-day, but which the Ancients knew with much
perfection; and afterwards some treatment, which is also a secret
of those forgotten builders, had made the wood as hard as metal and
impervious to all attacks of the weather.

In the gloomy cave of its belly were stored many matters. At one end, in
great tanks on either side of central alley, was a prodigiou