Dennis Wheatley - They Found Atlantis

Immediate discovery after she had left us was her only 351

real danger, but she was swifter of foot than the beast men and possessed those special senses, to guide her through that maze of tunnels.

She is living still—I know it—less than twelve miles distant from where I am writing now—safe in that secret island blessed by eternal Spring.

If I could once locate the wrecked entrance to the underworld, through which we returned to pick up the threads of our previous lives again, the rest would be easy. In company with a few stout fellows armed with machine guns those brutes which are neither animals nor men would prove no serious obstacle. Within four hours' march of this barren shore I should be able to look upon Lulluma's face again—the only thing I live for.

That I am so near her and yet separated from her by a barrier more difficult to cross than the seas from pole to pole causes me, at times, to go almost frantic with frustration, but my life is pledged to finding my way back to that enchanted garden where she dwells.

She was less than divine yet more than human and it never ceases to amaze me that one so infinitely gentle could be so splendidly courageous. For all those years she had known a faultless existence yet she abandoned it willingly in order to save us as, without her guidance, we would never have come through.

That she gave me her love, even for a brief season, has lifted me too a little toward the gods.

I crave for the sound of her laughter as a man lost in the desert thirsts for water and, whether I find her again in this life or die here first, all that was my heart remains for ever with Lulluma.

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