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Lord of Grabritin, we

Greatest of kings are thou!

Fall on our knees to thee,

To thee we humbly bow!

This gift to bring.

Peace to our camp

allow.

God save thee, king!

Then the party rose, and dragging me to the crumbling arch, made me fast to a

huge, corroded, copper ring which was dangling from an eyebolt imbedded in the

masonry.

None of them, not even Buckingham, seemed to feel any personal animosity

toward me. They were naturally rough and brutal, as primitive men are supposed

to have been since the dawn of humanity, but they did not go out of their way to

maltreat me.

With the coming of dawn the number of lions about us seemed to have greatly

diminished--at least they made less noise--and as Buckingham and his party

disappeared into the woods, leaving me alone to my terrible fate, I could hear the

grumblings and growlings of the beasts diminishing with the sound of the chant,

which the party still continued. It appeared that the lions had failed to note that

I had been left for their breakfast, and had followed off after their worshippers

instead.

But I knew the reprieve would be but for a short time, and though I had no wish

to die, I must confess that I rather wished the ordeal over and the peace of

oblivion upon me.

The voices of the men and the lions receded in the distance, until finally quiet

reigned about me, broken only by the sweet voices of birds and the sighing of the

summer wind in the trees.

It seemed impossible to believe that in this peaceful woodland setting the frightful

thing was to occur which must come with the passing of the next lion who

chanced within sight or smell of the crumbling arch.

I strove to tear myself loose from my bonds, but succeeded only in tightening

them about my arms. Then I remained passive for a long time, letting the scenes

of my lifetime pass in review before my mind's eye.

I tried to imagine the astonishment, incredulity, and horror with which my family

and friends would be overwhelmed if, for an instant, space could be annihilated

and they could see me at the gates of London.

The gates of London! Where was the multitude hurrying to the marts of trade

after a night of pleasure or rest? Where was the clang of tramcar gongs, the

screech of motor horns, the vast murmur of a dense throng?

The Lost Continent