straight down into another pair of flat dark eyes. They
belonged to a creature not as tall as I, and certainly not
human in shape. Arms and legs it had, of a sort, and scales,
also, and finny spines, and a soft slimy body. Then, through
the door which led to the silver street, I saw more of the
creatures, and more,--a soft, hurrying crowd patting over the
ingot blocks which paved the road, peering in at the door,
beckoning with webby fingers.

My helmet smothered the cry I gave as I struggled against the
horrible resistance of the water toward the door. Out in the
street the mer-crowd surrounded me, fingered my arms, looking
at me with unfathomable, disc-like eyes, black as ink. With
dawning comprehension it came over me that these creatures
inhabited the desolate, sea-filled city, lived in the mighty
golden halls that once had echoed to the footsteps of
Peruvian kings, fared about the rich streets where coral now
grew instead of tree and flower.

The things were speechless, with no seeming means of
communication, and I saw, too, that they could not leave the
sea-bottom, but walked upon it as we do upon earth, and could
no more rise than we can leap into the air and swim upon it.
I tried to push my difficult way through the clinging swarm,
who seemed friendly enough in a weird, inhuman way, but I
could not pass through. Dimly through the swinging water I
could see others coming from every carven doorway down the
silent street. I thought then of the weights attached to me,
and I decided to cut them loose at once and rise from the
ghostly place, of which I had seen quite enough to suit me.