Chapter VI: Part 6

How they finally reached their goal neither could remember. It seemed that they had crawled and crawled for eternity--a sort of dreadful nightmare in which their limbs moved unwillingly while they remained in the same spot. Both were exhausted when they slid stiffly into the scanty haven of the little dip in the sand. For the moment they cared not whether they were captured or not. They longed only to lie panting till their parched throats had cooled.

When they dared peep at the picket he had started serenely back on his walk away from them again. He had noticed neither them nor their tracks! With revived courage and strength they resumed the grilling struggle toward safety. Once more they reached a welcoming shadow without discovery.

“Boy, howdy!” gasped Taggert. “When do we--quit this caterpillar glide?”

“If our luck--holds, we’ll--soon be beyond--the danger zone,” puffed Robert, resting on the flat of his back.

* * * * *

Taggert’s escape and the fate of the _Sphere_ were still puzzling Robert, as they had not yet had an opportunity to mention these things. At Robert’s query now Taggert enlightened him briefly.

“When I saw them overpower you and lead you away,” he recounted, “I realized that I could help most by holding the _Sphere_, and coming to your assistance later if I succeeded. So I drew the manhole trap to and waited for developments. Peeping cautiously, I was fortunate in being able to spot the tent they took you to.

“Well, they howled round the outside for a while, but made no attempt to break in. I suppose they feared to tamper with the _Sphere_ after its exhibition of its destructive powers. Finally they withdrew at a command from an officer. Still I was careful not to show myself. I tinkered with the engine some more, quietly, but without results.

“Finally darkness came on. The Martians were camped about the _Sphere_ but all seemed anxious to give it a wide berth, for the nearest were a hundred paces or more away. They were scattered pretty well, so I took a long chance and slipped out into the darkness, snapping the trap-door shut. Luck was with me. You know the rest.”

“But man, you were banking on a chance in a thousand of getting through!”

“Oh, chances. Like kisses, they are to be taken.”

They both laughed a little at this, and it lightened their spirits. The situation did not seem so hopeless after all.

“Then the _Sphere_ is still unharmed,” mused Robert.

“Not only unharmed but not far from us right now. Look over there.”

Robert looked off to their right as indicated by Taggert. A familiar dark shape reared itself above the level of the desert, probably a quarter of a mile distant. He breathed a sigh of relief. Though useless to them just then it relieved him to know that the Martians had not wrecked it.

The still glare of the stars piercing the narrow Martian belt of clear atmosphere shone coldly upon them.

Robert wondered which of them was the good old Earth. Ah, to be safely back there again!--the professor, Taggert--and Zola. Would they all see each other again? Could he expect Zola to give up her father and other kin, her friends--everything she had learned to love in her own world? She had said she would go with him. Would her decision withstand the final parting from pleading friends and kinsmen, even if her father would let her go? Would she be happy on his Earth, if he succeeded in rescuing her from her present peril? Could he honestly urge her to leave with him?

These questions raced through his mind as his strength surged back to him. There was but one answer: if they could get away he would take her with him if he could possibly get her to go willingly. That he could make her happy he felt certain, for he would devote his entire life to doing so.

He became aware of Taggert’s prodding him vigorously in the ribs.

“‘Can’ the star-gazing, old dear. It’s time we were wriggling merrily on our way,” he whispered.

They bestirred themselves reluctantly from the latent warmth of the sand. Waiting until the picket was once more on his way from them, they staggered to their feet and made a dash of it.

When they had traversed perhaps three quarters of a mile they slackened their pace to a walk. About two miles ahead of them lay the city’s outskirts.

Approaching the lines of the city’s defense they faced a danger similar to that from which they had just escaped. They might be mistaken for foes and fired upon when discovered.

Discovery came sooner than they expected. A Svergadian picket popped up suddenly from a pit dug in the sand and challenged them sharply, training his gun the while upon Robert, who was in the lead.

Robert explained who they were and asked permission to go to Hakon. The sentry seemed dubious but finally summoned an officer, who heard their story and promptly promised to have them escorted into Hakon’s presence.

21

Their escort was dismissed upon their arrival at Hakon’s quarters, by his aid, who recognized Robert and Taggert at once.

“The governor will see you at once, I’m sure,” he told them. They waited in a small, sumptuously furnished anteroom, while he went to summon Hakon.

A few minutes later Hakon stepped into the room. He wore a long, loose garment which he had thrown over his sleeping clothes. His face was pitifully haggard. He seemed to have aged terribly since they had seen him last. A faint, sad smile softened his features as his eyes fell upon them.

“Ah, my young friends, I am glad to see you safely back and out of the enemy’s clutches. First, I want to thank you with my whole heart for the timely aid of the _Sphere_, which really turned the tide of the battle in our favor at a most critical time. Now I am grieved to hear that, through no fault of yours, it has fallen into the hands of the enemy. But, I, too, have a sorrow. My beloved daughter has been tricked into captivity.”

“A captive!” gasped Robert, clutching at his heart. His Zola a prisoner of that ogre, Kharnov!

“Here is an ultimatum just received from the beast,” resumed Hakon, dully, handing Robert a folded document.

Robert unfolded the paper.

“Your daughter will come to no harm provided you capitulate by noon tomorrow,” it read in effect.

“The dog!” cried Robert. “How did he contrive to get her into his possession?”

“This was found in her room,” said Hakon, handing him a small crumpled piece of paper.

To his surprize it had his name at the bottom, although it was written in Martian. Zola did not understand his own tongue. On the paper was written: “I am a prisoner. Unless you come to intercede for me with the emperor, I shall be put to death at dawn. Robert.”

Surely love is blind! Else she would have known that he could not have written such a wantonly selfish plea.

“This is a false message, of course,” said Robert, wondering whether Hakon believed him the author of such a note.

“I know it, my boy.”

“We must strike quickly,” said Robert. “Let me lead an attack at once. Nothing short of a complete routing of their entire army will satisfy me.”

Hakon smiled at his fierce enthusiasm.

“Even now an attack on a tremendous scale is organized,” he said. “It will take place just before dawn at a signal to be given all divisions simultaneously. You may direct the center.”

“Say, where do I come in?” broke in Taggert.

“Come along with me, old man. We’ll scrap together.”

“Fair enough. We’ll knock his Nib’s royal block off.”

Sleep that night was out of the question. As dawn approached, Robert absorbed the details of the gigantic offensive at a conference with several of the leaders. Everyone was on the alert. The governor’s daughter was a great favorite and greatly admired for her character and beauty. Every man knew of her danger and, with such an incentive to success they would be all but invincible.

When finally the signal for the general advance came over the wires, ths big army started forward in three giant columns, cautiously at first until their attack should have been observed. The absence of aircraft--because of the thin Martian atmosphere which made them impracticable--made it possible for them to make considerable progress before the enemy was aware of their supposed victims’ offensive.

It was agreed that upon the discovery of the advance of any column, that column would at once fire a rocket as the signal for a general rush upon the enemy from all points.

* * * * *

Robert’s column had advanced unobserved well over half-way to the enemy’s lines. Suddenly a rocket flashed heavenward from the right column. His men needed not Robert’s shouted command as they dashed madly after him toward the startled enemy less than a mile ahead.

With the rapid pace made possible on Mars by the weak gravity, they covered the intervening distance in about two minutes.

The dull drumming of the enemy’s awakened fire was punctuated by occasional thuds near by as their bullets found marks in the onrushing column.

The Svergadians met a brief check as they encountered the outpost. Then onward they swept like a great wave upon the dismayed besiegers.

The growing flush in the east bathed the battlefield in pale rose, touched here and there with purple dusk. Overhead the fading stars twinkled faintly as if shrinking from this scene of wicked strife.

In spite of their surprize the enemy rallied to a stiff defense. They had the advantage of greatly superior numbers, and knew it. And Robert’s column had charged directly into the main body of their forces.

The morale of few armies, however, could have withstood the fanaticism with which the Svergadians charged that morning. Their long, slender bayonets flashed viciously as they plunged forward fearlessly again and again. Every man was fighting to avenge his princess, whom the leader of these men had abducted. The enemy was dismayed. They were given no time to rally. Surely these were fiends who attacked them with no care for their own lives! Dismay became consternation--rout!

In vain did the enemy’s officers struggle to stem the mad retreat. The front ranks turned in panic from the vicious line of steel, and stampeded over the troops supporting them.

Side by side fought Robert and Taggert. Long since, they had emptied their automatics. Armed with bayonet guns picked up from fallen Martians, they charged blindly with the rest. That they both continued unwounded in the foremost ranks was a miracle.

But the goddess of chance is a capricious deity. She selected a moment of comparative safety to strike. It came as Robert and Taggert were vigorously following up the rout.

“Keep them on the run, men,” shouted Robert, turning and setting the example.

As he sprang forward, a thud at his right caused him to turn sharply. He was just in time to catch Taggert as he swayed and pitched forward!

“Where is it, Tag, old man?” he sobbed.

A crooked smile struggled to the reporter’s livid lips. He fumbled at the right side of his breast. A fleck of bright-colored foam showed on his lips as they moved feebly. Robert stooped close to listen.

“Running like--hell, ain’t they--Bob?”

“Like hell,” Robert assured him, choking.

Feverishly he ripped open Taggert’s shirt to reach the wound, but the latter restrained him with his last remnant of strength.

“No use, Bob. I’m--done. Please listen--closer. That’s better. Take papers--inside coat pocket--send them--_The Chronicle_--if you get back. Let money go--to Mother. Picture here. Tell her--and Sarah--good-bye.”

His body went limp. The last word was barely audible. His gallant spirit had flown.

Robert let Taggert’s body down reverently. Poor, happy-go-lucky fellow! Three weeks ago he had been a stranger, a stowaway, an outsider prying into their affairs. Now he seemed like a lifelong acquaintance--a brother!

The swift tide of battle had swept on ahead. Near by a large, officers’ tent reared high its peak. Strangely it had survived the fierce struggle, which, but a few minutes before, had raged round it. To this tent Robert carried Taggert’s body, and placed it softly upon a cot inside. Choking back a lump in his throat, he drew a cover up over the cot and turned away. A bright blue sash caught his eye--one of the rare, brilliant-hued bits of apparel which only the most well-to-do Martians can afford because of the scarcity of minerals for dyes. This he tied conspicuously on the outside of the tent to identify it.

With these precautions for later recovery of Taggert’s body, Robert dashed on after the receding line of battle. So hot was the chase and so overwhelming the enemy’s rout, that he had difficulty in gaining the front again.

Once more in the front rank he fought furiously, for to his original grievance was now added that of the death of a pal. The resistance of the enemy’s center was completely broken. Its officers no longer had any control over it. Whole companies surrendered rather than be slaughtered.

Suddenly, however, the headlong retreat of the enemy was checked. Those in the rear still scattered in consternation, or abjectly surrendered, but ahead there was a confusion and congestion--some obstacle against which the retreat floundered, swirled--and finally rallied.

* * * * *

Once more Robert found himself in the thick of the fray. Somehow, unaccountably, the enemy’s retreat had been halted. Those in contact with what had been the rear of the retreat, were now actually on the aggressive, fighting like rats, with their backs to a wall.

Goaded by the thought of Zola’s danger, Robert fought furiously. His gun he had discarded in lieu of a saber, which he now wielded with terrible destruction. His strength, superior to that of the slightly smaller-statured Martians, was augmented by his passion to destroy, to kill, until he should reach the very heart of this resistance which was keeping him from _her_. His very fierceness was a protection, his whirlwind attack striking terror into the hearts of the opposing Martians near him. His followers, too, inspired by his example, fought with great vigor. Like the head of a wedge they hewed their way steadily into the enemy’s ranks.

Once more their opponents were routed. Like chaff they were swept back, leaving but the core of their temporary resistance--a small knot of picked men round whom they rallied briefly though bravely.

Against this group Robert charged with his followers.

A terrific struggle ensued. By their uniforms Robert knew the stubborn group to be the emperor’s picked guardsmen. His heart leaped with fierce exultation as he realized that he was probably about to face the crafty, deceitful ruler.

It was at this juncture that Kharnov himself appeared suddenly from out a sumptuous tent!

In a belated effort he attempted to rally his remaining guards in a futile counter attack. By an almost superhuman effort Robert fought his way through the ring of defenders to the false emperor. A blaze of intense hatred leaped into the latter’s eyes as he recognized his former captive. Eagerly he sprang forward to meet him.

Because of his unusual stature among his own people, Kharnov was an equal match for Robert. In skill, with the saber, he was Robert’s superior. Both men were fired by an intense passion, but Robert’s wrath had the advantage of a righteous cause.

Warily they circled each other, the tempered blades clashing as they parried each other’s vicious thrusts. In their furious aggressiveness, both men were quickly wounded, though lightly, several times. Their shuffling feet thrashed the loose sand into spume as they circled each other swiftly. Their breath whistled hoarsely in their throats as they lurched back and forth, each eager to cut the other down.

As their first fierce vigor became dulled somewhat by their terrific exertions, both men settled down to deliberate, crafty fighting, each keenly watching for an opening which might prove fatal to the other.

Robert was handicapped by his unfamiliarity with the saber. Fortunately he was a skilled fencer. Only his skill with the foils enabled him to parry the slashing attacks of his opponent.

His eluding of Kharnov’s furious attacks only enraged the latter the more. He was overtaxing his endurance. It began to dawn upon Robert that, if he could successfully withstand Kharnov’s attacks a little longer, he would soon have a big advantage over the berserk ruler.

His opportunity came unexpectedly. Missing his footing, he all but lost his balance. Quick to take advantage of his misfortune, Kharnov launched a terrific blow at him. Had it struck home it must surely have rent Robert in twain! Fortunately, however, it missed him--but narrowly. The tip of the razorlike blade whined through the air but a fraction of an inch from Robert’s throat.

The delivery of this terrific swing momentarily unbalanced Kharnov. Recovering at this moment, Robert lunged swiftly. Precipitated upon the blade partly by the unchecked force of his wild swing, Kharnov was mortally wounded, the broad blade piercing his breast deeply. With a dreadful oath he dropped to the sand.

Robert quickly knelt at the emperor’s side to render assistance. But it was clear to him at the first glance that the unfortunate man was done.

With a supreme effort Kharnov raised himself upon his elbow. His lips twitched as he tried to speak. Then suddenly he slumped back lifeless upon the sand.

Having convinced himself that the hapless man was beyond need of aid, Robert looked to his own wounds. The battle line had swept far ahead during their private struggle. He found himself unmolested and unaided.

His cheek was bleeding profusely, but the wound proved to be superficial. The cloth of his coat, too, was wet from a wound in his arm which pained him cruelly. An attempt to remove this garment resulted in a twinge of pain almost unbearable. He swayed faintly, gritting his teeth in an effort to retain his senses.

Once more he tried to take off his coat. His head swam. Then everything went black before his eyes.

22

How long he lay unconscious Robert could not know. When he opened his eyes again, the din of battle had ceased.

He found himself extremely weak, and it was with difficulty that he got to his feet. For several minutes he swayed uncertainly, his knees all but refusing to hold him up. The rare Martian atmosphere seemed like a vacuum. His senses reeled drunkenly.

An ornamented flask, hung at his late adversary’s belt, caught his eye. Uncertainly he stooped and unfastened it. His parched throat seemed afire as he twisted at the flask’s cap with clumsy fingers. As the cap dropped to the sand, he raised the neck to his hot lips and drank.

The fluid in the flask all but choked him as he gulped it down. He recognized it as _gao_, a vicious wine distilled from the peculiar sea-weed growth of the marshy regions. Yet the craving to drink was so strong that he absorbed a generous portion of it before putting down the flask.

So potent was the wine that he instantly felt invigorated. His nausea was gone. He seemed to have taken a new lease upon life.

Discovering that his arm was bleeding profusely, he once more attempted the removal of his coat, this time with success. He ripped his left shirt sleeve to the shoulder. There was a deep gash above his elbow. Deftly he twisted a torn strip of the sleeve below the wound, thereby checking the flow, and bandaged the cut as well as he could. This done, he looked about him curiously.

He was apparently alone upon the battlefield, over which a deathlike quiet, now prevailed. Here and there a tent stood, while the rest were collapsed upon the ground where they had been knocked down during the fierce hand-to-hand struggle that had surged round them. So precipitate had been the retreat of the late emperor’s army that it had not had time to strike its tents in the rear before being swept far back of its original position.

Out on the tent-dotted plain ahead of him Robert suddenly observed another living being. This person, who was perhaps a quarter of a mile distant, was progressing in his direction by a series of curious dashes from one standing tent to another. The sun shone in Robert’s eyes, making it difficult for him to see plainly.

As he squinted painfully, he made out a second figure, beyond the first, seemingly in pursuit and gaining. Determined upon solving this latest riddle, Robert tottered off to intercept the fugitive. His strength seemed to return to him with the use of his legs, for his knees soon steadied.

As they neared each other the fugitive flitted suddenly behind a tent and remained there. Evidently Robert’s presence had been discovered and had startled him. The pursuer came on swiftly, running directly toward the point where his quarry had hidden. He brandished some object resembling a long whip. From time to time he shouted something unintelligible, which Robert could hear but faintly.

His curiosity now thoroughly aroused, Robert himself moved behind a near-by tent in order that he might observe without being observed.

The pursuer came on quickly, but finally stopped as if confused by his quarry’s disappearance. It was plain that he did not know which tent the other had taken refuge behind.

At this moment Robert saw the fugitive dart out into the open again and make directly toward the tent behind which he himself stood. Simultaneously he heard a shout from the other, who in another moment appeared in pursuit. It was at this juncture that Robert suddenly perceived that the fugitive was a woman!

Before he could think further the fugitive dashed round another tent and past his. She halted uncertainly, then, unaware of his presence, darted quickly to his side. Her hand, as she flattened herself quivering against the wall of the tent, touched his. Quick as a flash she wheeled upon him.

Even as her involuntary cry of fear rang out, she recognized him. It was Zola!

The next instant her pursuer panted round the tent’s edge, his evil face distorted with passion.

“You devil,” he hissed, raising a murderous-looking whip to strike her. His hand dropped abruptly as he espied Robert.

Before the Martian could recover from his astonishment, Robert swung at his jaw with every ounce of his remaining strength. His fist landed with crushing force, driving the Martian’s suddenly inert body before it like that of a stuffed dummy. Several yards away it plowed through the sand and lay still. Weeping softly, Zola crept into his arms.

“Oh, my Ro-bert,” she faltered, “I thought--I should--never--see you again.”

As for Robert, he could but hold her hungrily to him.

“You will never--never--let them keep me--from you again?”

“Never, dearest!”

She sighed contentedly. Her arms crept round his neck. She raised her face to his. Her soft, tremulous lips met his tenderly. Then she caught sight of the reddening bandage upon his arm. Instantly all her mothering instinct was alive. She wriggled free from his embrace like a sinuous kitten.

“You have been wounded!”

Robert chuckled.

“But not nearly so badly as our friend, the late emperor,” he said.

“He is----?”

“Dead. He had the misfortune to stop the sharp end of my blade during the skirmish between us.”

He said nothing of poor Taggert’s death. She would be sadly grieved over the jolly little reporter’s brave finish. Time enough when she questioned him, or noticed Taggert’s continued absence.

“You fought him for me, my brave! Ah, I should have died had you fallen!”

He took her in his arms again, while only the sun looked on.

“It was well that he died!” she broke out fiercely, without warning. “He lured me from out of our lines with a forged message which I thought you had written, Ro-bert. I was bound, taken to his tent, and a guard set over me. He made love to me, and laughed when I slapped his face. Then he left, but said he would soon tame me. When the battle turned against him, and his army was finally put to rout, his two guards set upon me. One, I stabbed to death, but _this_” (pointing to the Martian in the sand) “wrested the blade from me. I fled and he pursued me here.”

She shuddered, but went on with her self-appointed task of improving upon Robert’s indifferent bandaging.

“Little dove,” said Robert, irrelevantly--and was fittingly rewarded.

Hand in hand they turned toward the city. Before them lay several miles of sand, much of which was strewn with the bodies of those unfortunates who had fallen in battle. Wearily they picked their way, sadness in their hearts over the thought of the many brave hearts stilled, but, withal, a feeling of wonderful peace in having found each other safe.

* * * * *

An atmosphere of utter desolation hung all about them like an envelope of dread. Here and there a poor, wounded warrior raised himself to call for water or plead for aid. They gathered up some of the full canteens from those fallen, and from them gave relief to a number of thirst-tortured ones on their way. Where she could be of assistance, Zola stopped to apply a bandage, to bathe a fevered brow, to speak a word of comfort, and Robert assisted her.

Thus they had traversed nearly a mile when a commotion off to the southeast attracted their attention. A column of soldiers was marching toward them. The flag of the metropolis waving at its head dispelled their first fears. Robert guessed that it was a part of the right column returning with prisoners from its victorious attack. This conjecture subsequently proved correct.

The column soon overtook them. Room in an officers’ conveyance was quickly and eagerly made for them by its solicitous occupants, and they rolled back through the city gates in short order.

The approach of the victors had already been observed, and the great city fairly bristled with gay flags. Welcoming, hysterical throngs greeted them at the gates with deafening cheers and shouting.

Among the first to greet them were Hakon and Professor Palmer. They arrived astride a pair of fine _lunas_, as the victorious troops were entering the gates. These animals, which resemble our horses, were of a small, precious herd owned by Hakon, they being quite rare.

With a glad cry Zola leaped out of the conveyance and ran toward her father. Likewise he jumped to the ground and ran with pathetic eagerness to meet her. They embraced each other while the soldiers and public looked on in sympathetic understanding. Scarcely one of them but had heard of their princess’ latest abduction with sorrow almost as keen as her father’s, for she was dearly beloved by all.

A lump rose in Robert’s throat as he noted their touching reunion. Could he--should he--pluck this Martian flower from her kin and country, to take her back with him to a strange world? Once more he wondered whether he could hope to make her happy--to make her forget. He feared not, and his heart was heavy with the realization that he must give her up--that an attempt to transplant her would prove a sad failure. Rather than see her pine away in a strange world he would go back alone, even though it broke his own heart. He turned to greet Professor Palmer as that big-hearted and lovable man swung down off his steed and rushed upon him with open arms. Truly, here was such a friend and companion as few men ever were blessed with.

“Lad, lad, it is good to see you again!” And he hugged Robert with such fervor that it was with difficulty he managed to return his greetings and assure him that he was, indeed, quite safe, and delighted to be back.

Hakon was even more effusive in his greeting. Leading his daughter by the hand, he approached Robert almost humbly, albeit with an unconscious dignity--the inevitable bearing of one born to rule.

“You have brought back my greatest treasure to me, sir; and victory, too. Nothing you may ask of me is too great a reward.”

“I but shared in the glorious triumph of your brave men, sire,” Robert answered.

The ruler made an imperious gesture born of habit.

“Enough, sir! We owe everything to you. Ask anything you will, and it is yours.”

Robert was seized with considerable embarrassment. The cynosure of countless worshiping eyes, including a pair of very blue and very trustful ones beside the governor, he wished devoutly that he could escape. His was not a bombastic nature. Naturally of a somewhat retiring disposition, this sudden lionizing temporarily robbed him of coherent speech.

He thought of poor Taggert, who had given his life. There was but one thing that he wanted--and she was denied him. He had definitely determined not to sacrifice her future happiness for his own. Her eyes tempted him sorely. They seemed to reproach him. He realized that she really loved him and hoped that he would ask for her hand. He also felt assured that Hakon would readily consent to his marrying her, if he were to remain upon Mars. But his first duty was to the professor and Taggert. He had been entrusted with a mission by the loyal-hearted reporter as the latter was dying. That mission he would fulfil to the limit of his power.

“If you will persist in a reward, sire, then let it be in _tynir_, the yellow metal which we call gold, and which is so plentiful here but so rare on our planet--or in _rahmobis_, gems of great value among our people, who know them as diamonds.”

“It shall be as you desire,” answered Hakon. “You shall have as much of both as can be carried in the _Sphere_.”

Even as Robert spoke he saw the happiness fade from Zola’s countenance. A look of gentle, pathetic reproach came into her eyes. She looked away as if to hide it from him.

It flashed to Robert’s mind that perhaps, after all, they might not be able to return to the Earth. Would they find the _Sphere_ intact? He thrilled guiltily, realizing that the answer to this question might yet make the princess his.

Slowly the procession threaded its way back through the cheering populace toward the palace. Robert, astride Hakon’s mount, rode beside Professor Palmer, while Zola and her father followed in one of the luxurious motor carriages.

Her strange quiet disturbed her father.

“My daughter is not contented?” he ventured anxiously.

“I am but fatigued,” she replied, forcing a smile.

“Ah, of course you are, my dear. You must place yourself in the care of my physicians immediately upon our arrival at the palace.”

Nevertheless, he hazarded a shrewd guess as to the real cause of her lassitude.

As for Zola, her heart was heavy. Did Robert care more for precious metals and gems than for her? She would gladly have gone to the utmost ends of the universe with him unhesitatingly, with implicit trusting, yet he seemed already to have forgotten his recent avowal of love. He had even avoided her eye guiltily.

23

Ahead, Professor Palmer was listening sadly to Robert’s tale of Taggert’s death.

“Poor lad. We must carry his story back to his paper and the world. He forfeited his life for it. It is little enough.”

“Little enough,” Robert agreed. He thought of the sad message he would bear to the girl who would be waiting for Taggert.

They rode on in silence.

At Robert’s suggestion upon their arrival at the palace, Hakon promptly issued orders for the _Sphere_ to be sought out and brought back. A huge conveyance and two-score men were dispatched for this purpose.

Preparations were already under way for a great feasting to commence that night. An abundance of every kind of food produced by the little planet was prepared by skilled cooks. Every delicacy known to the Martians was procured for the occasion--even meat of the rare _mihida_. The _mihida_ was the only animal still raised for food on Mars, on the pitifully small acreages of available pasturage irrigated from the ducts of precious water. None but the richest could enjoy this one available meat; and even those but occasionally. Many casks of _irel_, an excellent, mildly intoxicating vintage made from a fruit similar to our grape, were iced and tapped in readiness for the approaching festivities.

The great jubilee lasted not one night merely, but all of the next day and night, though Hakon and his immediate party, including Robert and the professor, withdrew with the first dawn.

Robert and Professor Palmer were each awarded a medal cross, highly prized by the Martians as an emblem of supreme valor. Their presentation was attended with much ceremony and a tremendous ovation. Seated between the princess and her father, Robert and the professor were the cynosure of all eyes and the envy of all the noblemen gathered.

The princess and Robert sat side by side, and their eyes were all for each other. Frequently their hands stole into each other’s. Several times Robert caught Hakon watching them covertly, a quizzical smile on his face. What was behind that smiling mask Robert knew not, but he thought he detected a trace of sadness in it.

During the height of the celebration news arrived of the formal recognition of Hakon by the leaders of the dead emperor’s government, as their new emperor. Convinced by the overwhelming, disastrous defeat of Kharnov’s forces, and by the popular demand of the people at large, these leaders were glad to hail Hakon as their new chief and ruler.

It was on the day following their participation in the festivities that Robert was informed of the _Sphere’s_ discovery and safe return. Examination of it, showed it to be unharmed.

Once more Robert wrestled with the stubborn engine which, in spite of the apparent absence of any mechanical defect, persistently refused to start. It finally developed that the petrol line from the tank to the carburetor was clogged with sediment. With this removed, the engine immediately ran as well as ever.

Hakon’s chemists had finally succeeded in refining a considerable quantity of petrol--almost enough to fill the _Sphere’s_ reservoirs completely. The _Sphere_ was in readiness at last for the return to the Barth.

The days following the public acclamation brought many proposals to the new emperor from the first nobles of the land for Zola’s hand in marriage. This news Zola told Robert, and it was evident that she was wondering why he did not speak to her father for himself. The emperor, however, made no secret of the proposals. He even discussed them with Robert. Contrary to the general rule, his gratitude survived his successful acquisition of the throne, and his head remained unturned by the sudden fawning and praise from men who formerly had been his bitterest enemies. In spite of the high rank and the large fortunes of his rivals, it was becoming apparent to Robert that the emperor was inclined to favor a match between him and Zola. But he felt certain that there would be a stipulation in that event that he must not return to the Earth.

As the time decided upon between Robert and the professor for their departure drew closer, Robert decided to have a heart-to-heart talk with Hakon. Accordingly he sought an interview with him at the first opportunity.

He found him in excellent spirits. In fact, so carefree did the new monarch appear, that Robert hesitated to broach the subject; but concluding that it was a case of now or never he put his temerity aside.

Hakon heard him out calmly. It was apparent that he had been expecting this.

“My son,” be said, finally, “this is no surprize to me. The days of my youth are not so distant that I do not recognize the symptoms of love.” He sighed. “I can’t blame you for loving her. She is her mother over again.”

His fine eyes softened as he spoke of his deceased wife. Robert did not presume to interrupt his thoughts. He waited patiently while the emperor sat in silent reminiscence.

Presently Hakon resumed, putting memories from him with a visible effort.

“You are brave, my boy, and deserving of her great love--you see, she has already told me. Duty calls you back to your world, many, many leagues distant. But it is a younger, more luxuriant world. I will not selfishly deny her happiness, though she is my greatest treasure. I would that you could remain with us, but, if you must go, she may go with you if she wishes. Let her decide. I make but one condition; if she can not be happy in your world, bring her back to me if you can.”

“I promise, sire,” said Robert, touched too deeply at the emperor’s sacrifice to say more for the moment.

A soft step caused them both to look up abruptly. Zola stood before them. She had stolen in while they were talking. Her eyes were brimming with misty happiness.

“I heard what you were saying, you dears,” she murmured.

“And your decision, Zola?” Robert faltered.

She pressed a white hand to her breast, swaying like a frail blade of grass.

“I must think--I must think,” she said, faintly.

And she fled from the room.

24

That night brought no sleep to Robert. Torn between compassion for Zola’s father, and fear that he himself would lose her, he tossed about incessantly. When finally dawn came he fell into a sleep of utter mental exhaustion.

When he opened his eyes it was with no recognition in them of anyone or anything. The delirium of fever had laid hold upon him. The severe strain and exertions of the past several days had reduced his vitality, and the mental anguish of the night following his interview with Hakon regarding Zola had proved the last straw.

For three days he remained delirious. During this time Zola nursed him almost constantly. It was with greatest difficulty that she was induced to snatch rest occasionally. And only to Professor Palmer would she relinquish her post.

Hakon came to see Robert twice daily. His own physicians were in continual attendance upon Robert. No effort was spared to bring about his recovery if possible. On the fourth day, with the crisis safely passed, Robert recovered his senses.

His first recognition was of Zola, to her unbounded delight. She was seated at his bedside. During his delirium he had spoken her name many times. At first he feared she might be another vision. He reached out to touch her and reassure himself of her reality, only to sink back weakly. She caught his hand.

“Do you know me now, Robert, darling?” she whispered, with eager tenderness.

Robert pressed her hand happily, nodded, and promptly fell off into peaceful slumber--his first normal rest in many hours.

When he again opened his eyes he was stronger and able to take some nourishment, which Zola fed him. She had not left his bedside since his first return to consciousness early that same morning. By the doctors’ orders she would not permit him to talk. But for lovers there are other means of communication than mere words. Both were infinitely happy.

The effects of Zola’s continued vigil of the past three days and nights were visible in her face. Only at Robert’s insistence, and for fear that he would excite himself into a relapse, did she finally consent to take to her bed for sleep. She slept the entire afternoon and night without waking, and rose feeling greatly refreshed but with bitter reproachment on her lips for those who had permitted her to sleep so long.

By this time Robert, much improved, was allowed to talk. Zola perched herself on the edge of his bed.

“We are to be married as soon as you are up,” she announced, bending and kissing him as he started to splutter some inane reply. The emperor, coming in at the moment, laughed outright and made his exit quickly.

“And I shall see and know that wonderful world of yours,” she continued.

Her calm assertion swept Robert’s last scruples away. In his heart was a song of joy, and his boyish enthusiasm and anticipation ran riot. The thought of transplanting this desert flower from an unlovely, withered planet to his own luxuriant world was a prospect of boundless, delightful possibilities! It would seem a wonderland to her. She would be the happiest and most appreciative girl alive--and his!

“You bet you shall, sweetheart,” he agreed. “You shall see our wonderful, rugged mountains, and beautiful green valleys; the winding rivers, the vast oceans, and the great lakes of water, the very drops of which are so precious here. Our clouds, the mysterious storms that will frighten you with their magnificence, and the silver rain; all these wonders and many more shall be yours.”

“Do you really have big bodies and rivers of water, open and unprotected from the sun’s rays? Why doesn’t it evaporate, or sink into the soil and become lost?”

“You shall see, sweetheart. You shall ride upon oceans more vast than your deserts, where nothing but rolling water can be seen.”

Zola shook her head in perplexity and with a certain measure of doubt. All this seemed virtually impossible to her. Only her implicit confidence in Robert enabled her to believe, and even in that belief she was unconsciously prone to reserve. Well, she would see what she would see. No doubt it was a wonderful world; but ----. However, she was a diplomat.

“Truly these are wonderful things you tell me of, my love. I am wild to see them.”

At this point they were interrupted by the doctor.

“You children must be quiet awhile now. I forbid my patient to excite himself by talking any more till this afternoon.”

And as this doctor was an autocratic soul, accustomed to having his way, they were forced to forego their conversation till later. In the heart of each, however, there was a bewildering flutter of joy and happiness.

25

During the next few days Robert grew rapidly stronger, and soon was permitted to be up and around.

Taggert’s body had been recovered, and now rested in state within one of the royal vaults, where it had been placed with great reverence by the Martians at the command of the emperor. Elaborate and touching were the ceremonies which attended the procedure. Robert had not been able to attend the ceremonies, but Professor Palmer, accompanied by the emperor and Princess Zola, witnessed them together.

Resigned to their determination to return to their own planet, taking his beloved daughter with them, the emperor bent his efforts toward loading the _Sphere_ with both _tynir_ and _rahmobis_ in large quantities.

Of the _tynir_ it was simply a question of how much the _Sphere_ would be able to lift safely. More than two and a half tons of the precious metal, in small ingots and in heavy sacks, were stacked on the floor of the main chamber--virgin gold, every ounce of it.

The supply of _rahmobis_, or diamonds, though not so plentiful, was a far greater treasure even than the precious yellow metal, although most of these were in the rough. They averaged in size from half a carat to several carats, with here and there a specimen running ten or fifteen carats. Of these assorted, uncut stones there were nine sacks, each about the size of a five-pound sack of sugar. In addition there were several packets of finely cut and polished gems, the product of skilled Martian cutters. These varied approximately from a quarter of a carat to two carats, but a dozen or more fine stones weighed more than ten carats each! Some excellent emeralds and rubies were included among the cut stones, but only a few, because, while the white diamonds were quite plentiful on Mars, the green and the pigeon-red varieties were very rare. Truly the _Sphere_ was to carry back a ransom of kings!

But of all this treasure none was so precious to Robert as his princess.

With Robert’s complete recovery, a great pageant was arranged in which the emperor, princess and all the nobles were to participate. Robert and Professor Palmer were invited to ride with Zola and her father in the procession.

Elaborate preparations were made for this event which was to typify the recent victory and the reunion of all factions, and the gratitude of the Martians for the timely aid by their visitors from Earth. Great ornamental arches were hurriedly built, and large quantities of the various kinds of Martian flowers were accumulated in readiness for the event. The gathering of these flowers was no small task, since the restricted growing areas of the waning planet permitted of but little deviation from the grim task of producing enough food to sustain its populace.

The pageant was also to serve another purpose. At its termination the emperor was to announce the giving of his daughter’s hand in marriage to Robert and her subsequent departure for Earth with him. Some resistance was anticipated from various nobles, particularly those who were eligible for Zola’s hand. It was because of a possible demonstration against, the princess’ departure that the emperor, with excellent foresight and admirable sacrifice, had commanded that the wedding take place quietly at the palace immediately after the pageant, and that the _Sphere_ start on its long journey with his most precious possession immediately afterward.

The day of the great pageant dawned with the same wonderful brilliance that heralded 680 of the 687 days of the Martian year.

All preparations of the royal party for the pageant were completed before noon. At midday Robert and the professor partook of a simple luncheon with Zola and her father. With the specter of separation so near, conversation languished, and it was with real effort that the professor maintained at least a semblance of cheerfulness within the little group through his persistent but tactful patter of small talk.

Early in the afternoon the nobles began to arrive. Within an hour the assembly of plumed and gayly dressed riders had formed in marching order, and with a great clattering of hoofs rode through the big archway leading from the palace terrace to the main road.

A company of guards led. The emperor and his daughter, accompanied by Robert and Professor Palmer, followed them. Behind them came the chief nobles of the great empire.

From the time of the earliest formation on the palace terrace, it became apparent that some peculiar unrest pervaded the assembly. This grew more tense as the time passed, and was only temporarily relieved when the column had ridden out from the palace. Several times as his mount shied, Robert fancied he surprized secret communications between certain of the nobles. The ostensibly unconcerned looks upon their countenances, and their abrupt cessation of whispered confidences as he caught their eye, somehow forced an unpleasant conviction upon Robert that these communications not only concerned the emperor and his party, but presaged evil for them. He wondered if, in some manner, advance news of his impending marriage to the princess and of their intended departure had got abroad. Anticipation of such information likely would produce resentment among the young-bloods who had hoped to obtain the princess’ hand themselves, and they might endeavor to stir up trouble to prevent the match and the departure of the princess. He determined to keep a sharp outlook for any sign of treachery.

Into the main thoroughfare they swung. Here they halted briefly while the rest of the procession promptly formed behind. Then they moved on again toward the heart of the city.

Soon they passed beneath artificial arches over flower-strewn streets lined with dense crowds of eager-eyed, cheering Martians who were gathered to greet their new emperor and to see his mysterious aids from the planet Earth, who had put their powerful enemies to rout at the eleventh hour. Robert could not suppress a feeling of exhilaration as the deafening acclamations of the populace swelled about them. Fully half the demonstration was for the professor and himself. He glanced at the princess--_his_ princess--riding close beside him, her lovely cheeks aglow with excitement. Her eyes were turned toward him in rapt admiration. Small wonder that Robert’s head swam a bit with pride and keen enjoyment in this, his moment of supreme triumph and popularity. The professor, too, seemed not without his appreciation of the moment.

The procession finally reached the Galpraæ, a huge amphitheater situated in the eastern end of the city. Here, flanked by his guardsmen on one side and the nobles on the other, the emperor spoke briefly to the people. Robert, the professor, and Zola occupied positions of honor near him.

The people listened to his speech with marked respect and interest to its conclusion, when they burst into wild cheering lasting many minutes. The emperor held up his hand for quiet, till finally the demonstration ceased. Then, calmly, distinctly, he announced his daughter’s early nuptials and departure with Robert.

For some seconds after this statement a deep silence reigned. Then, suddenly, one of the nobles rose to his feet!

He pointed dramatically at Robert and Professor Palmer.

“Shall we permit these Earth-beings to carry off our own princess to another planet? Shall we permit her to wed one of these common beings while the best, the noblest, blood of all Mars is offered for her hand? _No!_ A thousand times no! Our emperor’s better judgment has been swayed by some strange influence of these beings. Brethren, let us not stand by idly and permit this outrage!”

As if by prearranged signal, about half the nobles sprang to their feet. Drawing their sabers, they rushed upon the little group about Robert.

At the same moment, pandemonium seemed to have broken bounds. The fickle audience in the great enclosure leapt to their feet as one and surged forward, shouting madly! The guardsmen, who fortunately were all picked men and loyal to the core, dashed forward to protect their emperor and his guests, but were prevented from joining them by the resistance of the immediate group of traitorous nobles. A few of the noblemen who were loyal joined the guardsmen in the instant melee.

Though Robert was on the alert for something of this sort, the suddenness of it left him momentarily aghast. There seemed no escape. His saber and the emperor’s flashed from their scabbards together. The next instant the professor and they with two guardsmen who had somehow managed to hew their way through to them, had formed a ring of steel round Zola. Against this vicious circle the furious noblemen charged.

For minutes that seemed hours, the unequal combat raged about these five staunch men and the trembling princess. The guardsmen and loyal noblemen were more than holding their own with the larger part of the rebels. But the little group in the midst of it all was facing annihilation before aid could reach them. Already Hakon was wounded, while one of the guardsmen was down. Robert, too, was wounded, though fortunately not yet seriously.

26

Suddenly Robert felt the pavement give way beneath his feet. The next instant he was precipitated downward. A hard surface seemed to rush upward and strike him. He sprawled painfully. Then darkness!

For a moment he believed oddly that he had just sustained a blow which had knocked him unconscious, mistaking the sudden quiet and darkness for oblivion in his bewilderment.

Abruptly the mantle of blackness surrounding him magically dropped away. As he scrambled stiffly to his feet he perceived that he stood with others within a tunnel of masonry dimly lit by a series of incandescent lights. An exclamation of relief burst from his lips as he saw Zola sitting on the floor a few feet away. She gave a glad little cry as she recognized him. He quickly helped her to her feet. At the same moment he saw Hakon and Professor Palmer, and, with them, the surviving guard who had fought so valiantly. On the pavement lay one of their late enemies, strangely still.

“This is a secret passage leading to the palace,” Hakon explained hurriedly. “Its existence and the automatic trap-door entrance above us with its rebound feature alone has preserved our lives thus far. Lead on, Dyarkon.”

The guard addressed, obediently led the way down the passage, the others following. Above, faint sounds of the conflict still raging seemed far away. Zola placed her hand in Robert’s trustfully. They had proceeded several rods when the emperor, who was second in lead, swayed uncertainly. He would have fallen but for Robert’s timely assistance. Zola also rushed to his side with a startled cry.

“Ah, my children, I fear I am too badly wounded to go on. Leave me and escape while you may.”

“We go on only with you, sire,” said Robert, firmly.

Gently he and Professor Palmer lifted the protesting monarch between them. In this manner they resumed their march down the long passage, led by the faithful Dyarkon. Zola followed closely in the rear.

In silence they made their way through the long tunnel beneath the city’s streets. Except for the shuffle of their feet, an oppressive, deathlike stillness reigned. At intervals Hakon begged them futilely to put him down and hurry on to safety without him.