“God!” ejaculated Taggert, for once jarred out of his habitual sangfroid.
Robert was silent.
A vast pit was visible where the bolt had struck, and the bodies of hundreds of men were strewn round it. The demoralization of that division for the present was complete. The destructive force of the bolt was appalling, but the spectacle it presented had been even more so. The invaders were terrified beyond control by panic fear of this leaping bolt of fire from above.
Robert had no desire to take lives unnecessarily: If the first bolt was sufficient to cause the invaders to retreat or to cease fighting, he determined not to release a second one. He studied closely the movements of the armies. As if afraid to antagonize theSpherefurther, the invaders had ceased to play the beams of their searchlights upon it.
In the east the first faint flush of dawn was visible. Already the tall spires of the metropolis were touched with coral.
Robert became aware that theSpherehad settled too close to the ground for safety in case of further firing from the hostile artillery.
“Better raise her another thousand, Taggert,” he called, turning to the latter, who was operating the machinery.
“Just what I was trying to do, old man, but she doesn’t respond.”
A swift examination proved Robert’s fears—that their reserve of power had been virtually exhausted by the tube! The speed of the gyrostats was perceptibly slackening. TheSpherewas sinking!
Feverishly they turned to the engine which drove the dynamo. With this running, enough current soon would be generated to lift theSphereout of danger. It was then that the extent of their calamity was discovered. The engine stubbornly refused to start, for one of those mysterious reasons to which engines are addicted. It persistently defied their combined efforts to diagnose the trouble.
In order to avoid crashing upon the plain, now less than a thousand feet below, Robert swung the disk upright and opened the shutters from its entire face. Even with its weakened power, unaided by the dying current, it would be almost sufficient to balance theSphere’sweight, as long as the gyrostats were turning slowly. Thus the crash might be averted, but at the same time it was impossible to utilize any side pull of the disk to carry them beyond the enemy’s lines. They were facing capture—perhaps death!
Finding that each was in the other’s way, Taggert, who had a knowledge of engines, continued to tinker with it while Robert looked on from a window, where he kept an eye also on the plain below.
TheSpherecontinued to settle slowly, though they knew not what moment the gyrostats might stop, allowing them to crash down upon the plain. With each hundred feet of descent their hope grew stronger; but that they would fall into the enemy’s hands was now inevitable, for they were sinking into the very center of the camp.
Off to the south the sounds of fighting had ceased. Stretcher bearers were bringing in the wounded from that direction. Robert wondered dully how long it would be before he and Taggert would fall into the hands of the invaders.
Curiously enough, the Martians below were equally perturbed at the approach of theSphere. Having witnessed its terrible destructive power, they felt absolutely at its mercy, and feared even to train a gun on it for fear that they would be wiped out immediately in retaliation. So far they did not suspect that theSpherewas not descending at the will of its occupants.
Realization of this occurred to Robert.
“Maybe we can bluff it through, Tag,” he said, hopefully. “It’s our only chance.”
By this time theSpherehad settled to within a bare fifty yards of the ground. Its buoyancy was now virtually the same as the slightly denser atmosphere at this height. It drifted slowly for several minutes, the gyrostats continuing to revolve softly.
The Martians had crowded round in a generous circle below. Mingled fear and curiosity were written upon their upturned faces, which could be seen quite clearly in the rapidly brightening daylight. A pompous officer pushed forward into the open space directly beneath theSphere. Robert leaned out and addressed this individual.
“As emissaries of his excellency, the Governor of Svergad, I demand the immediate withdrawal of these forces,” Robert began, affecting a confidence which he was far from feeling.
“Fine. Go to it, boy!” encouraged Taggert in a hoarse whisper.
The officer did not seem surprized at Robert’s demand. But, unfortunately, in spite of his pompous manner, it appeared that he was not of sufficiently high rank to treat with so important a matter. Every moment was precious, for at any instant theSpheremight betray their weakness by settling to the ground.
The officer politely stated that their demand would be referred at once to the generalissimo. Realizing the importance of satisfactorily completing negotiations before theSpheredescended, Robert decided to take a bold stand.
“The generalissimo will not do. I must speak with the emperor quickly—here.”
As expected, the officer was visibly taken aback. Several valuable, fleeting seconds passed before he recovered from his surprize and indecision.
“Your request will be communicated to the emperor at once through the generalissimo,” he answered presently.
The minutes seemed like hours as Robert and Taggert anxiously awaited the reappearance of the official. Meanwhile theSpherevery slowly settled lower and lower. Taggert’s efforts to start the engine had availed nothing. They could but wait idly with what patience they could summon. To have attempted utilizing part of the disk’s power to carry them beyond the enemy’s lines would but have resulted in disaster, for their present buoyancy was maintained only with the aid of the disk’s power (directed absolutely perpendicularly).
A small group moving toward them heralding the probable approach of the emperor or generalissimo revived hope in their breasts. They might yet maintain their strategic position long enough to drive home a bargain that the Martians would honor when they were obliged to descend and attempt to bluff their way through a difficult situation somehow.
“The old boy himself,” ejaculated Taggert as the group drew near.
Robert recognized the emperor in a car pulling up below. Seated opposite him was the officer to whom they had first talked, while beside the emperor was a much decorated and bedecked individual who he hoped was the generalissimo himself.
The latter stepped out of the car after the officer, and assisted the emperor to alight. The three of them slowly paced beneath theSphereas it drifted lightly with the soft morning breeze. The emperor was plainly angered and making a poor attempt to conceal the fact.
“What means this rude summons which his Highness, the emperor, has chosen to humor?” said the generalissimo; for that thiswasthe generalissimo they quickly discovered. His voice carried up to them clearly. Barely thirty feet separated them now.
“I will speak directly with the emperor himself,” Robert began. “As emissary of his Highness, the Governor of Svergad, I demand the immediate withdrawal of all forces from this region. Unless such a movement is begun without delay, we are prepared to wipe out your entire army by means of the terrible weapon which you have seen.”
The emperor raised a countenance dark with passion. The generalissimo checked him with a nervous grip on his arm as he was about to speak, addressing him earnestly in an undertone.
The emperor calmed himself with evident effort.
“You have the advantage of us,” he said. “Therefore, my armies will retire at once; but I warn you that you shall be conquered in the end and be made to suffer for this.”
“Very well, your Highness. I suggest that you give orders immediately for their retirement as, unless it is commenced within a few minutes. I shall resume their destruction.”
Again the generalissimo was obliged to restrain the emperor’s burst of passion. A moment later, at a curt nod of assent, from the emperor, the generalissimo dispatched the officer with a command to begin an immediate general retirement of all forces.
The first contingent was soon moving northward. The emperor and generalissimo had departed ominously for their headquarters. TheSpherecontinued to drift idly, settling ever closer to the ground. The enemy forces still stretched more than a mile between theSphereand the city. How Robert and Taggert yearned for a stiffening of the breeze that they might be swept safely beyond the enemy’s lines before the descendingSphereplaced them in their power! Even now soldiers below paused in their preparations for retreat to gaze up at them curiously, albeit anxiously, evidently wondering why theSpherehovered so low. Should the true reason be guessed, their temporary victory would be lost.
The next ten minutes seemed like an eternity to Robert. It had brought them only a little nearer the city and their friends, while scarcely thirty feet separated them from the enemy. Some of the troops were already marching off toward the south beneath them, but it was a physical impossibility for the thousands still between theSphereand its goal to move out of the way in less than half an hour. And half an hour spelled almost certain disaster for theSphere.
“Looks as if we’ll have to indulge in a little more diplomacy,” Robert remarked.
“Drop in upon his Royal Highness to bid him goo’bye, so to speak,” said Taggert.
“Something like that.”
At this moment the suspense was broken by a sudden lurch of theSphere. The gyrostats had stopped!
With but the disk’s diminished power to break its fall, theSpheredropped into the sand with a jarring thud.
The Martians had carefully avoided the section beneath theSphere. Consequently it fell clear. For several minutes they kept their distance. It was evident that they all feared this mysterious machine greatly.
Presently a pompous officer strode into the space about theSphere. Clearly he saw in the situation great possibilities for his own future and he intended making the most of it. Yet, like the rest, he was not certain that theSpherewas as helpless as it seemed. Before he had given an order. Robert stepped out of theSphere.
Robert interrupted the officer as he was about to speak.
“I come to give warning that unless the retirement of all the emperor’s forces is accomplished more rapidly, I will resume their destruction,” he said, imperiously.
The Martian was visibly undecided. Perhaps he and his regiment would be wiped out if he attempted to hold theSphere. He observed Taggert glaring at him balefully from a window. Nevertheless he was a brave man, especially when he thought of the brilliant future he might enjoy if he got away with this. A disagreeable smile disfigured his sharp-featured countenance.
“I think the emperor will soon have changed his mind about the retirement—just as soon as he knows that you have honored him by landing within his lines.”
“The emperor is too wise a man to delay the withdrawal of these troops,” answered Robert, “for even at this moment, should I choose, every man in sight would be blasted into atoms at a signal from me!”
The cocky officer’s assurance again was visibly shaken. Neither knowing that the death-dealing Norrensen shaft was rendered useless on account of its outlet being buried in the sand, nor being certain that theSphere’spower was exhausted, he must have feared instant annihilation if he persisted. A cunning light came into his eyes suddenly, and was as quickly veiled. Affecting a friendly attitude he strode over to within a couple feet of Robert. To have backed away from him would but have advertised their weakness, and any retreat from the circle about them was impossible. So he stood his ground and waited the officer’s next move.
As if about to take Robert into his confidence, he placed his hand upon Robert’s shoulder. Then like a flash he rapped out a command, at the same instant covering Robert with hislahan, the Martian electric automatic.
Immediately the ring of Martians closed in upon theSphere, while the officer’s two aids hurried to his help. Counting on his immunity from a possible blast from theSpherewhile in close proximity to Robert, the crafty officer had dared to defy theSphere. But he had not counted upon his prisoner’s hot-headedness.
Even as he whipped out thelahan, Robert started a dashing uppercut to his head. Before the surprized officer could fire or dodge, the blow caught him on the point of his jaw with a beautiful precision. He staggered and fell just before his anxious aids could reach him. Notwithstanding the gravity of the situation, Robert could not repress a laugh over the comical appearance of the little, pointed red beard on his late opponent’s chin, which was tilted serenely skyward, as he sprawled on his pompous back.
A few minutes later Robert was securely bound and led roughly away. His last glimpse of theSphereshowed him a ring of shouting Martians round it, but no sign of Taggert.
Robert was taken to a large tent near by, where, without ceremony, he was securely fastened to the large center pole by means of chain and anklet like a criminal. Two armed guards were set to watch him, after having searched him and taken away the automatic with which he had been armed when he left theSphere.
At noon a plate of coarse food was brought to him, and a cup of water. He found the food palatable and, being hungry despite the gloomy outlook, ate all of it. His guards stared at him intently all the while, evidently regarding the eating of an Earthbeing as a great curiosity.
The chain, a stout-linked affair which would have weighed heavily had he been on the Earth, allowed Robert little freedom of movement. The wooden stool which he had been furnished affording no rest for his back, soon grew dreadfully tiresome. He tried every position he could conceive for relief, each of which his guards regarded with fresh suspicion. Once he tried to engage them in conversation, but he succeeded only in drawing grunts and uneasy stares from them.
Sounds of activities without drifted to him. There seemed to be considerable movement of troops past the tent, all in one direction. Although he was not certain in which direction Svergad lay, Robert knew that they were in all probability moving back to the attack, now that the menace of theSpherewas removed. He wondered dully what had happened to Taggert.
He was just shifting his position for about the fifty-first time when the flap of the tent was raised and the pompous officer of the morning’s encounter stepped in, followed by two fellow officers. The guards came to attention stiffly.
The pompous officer scowled ominously. Plainly he intended dealing with Robert as severely as possible. He strode over to him.
“Well, how does it feel to be in chains, my vicious friend?” he rasped.
“Quite all right, you old toad,” Robert answered pleasantly in English.
“What?”
“I said, ‘Quite comfortable, old chap,’” said Robert, this time in the Martian tongue, interestedly surveying a discolored lump on his captor’s right jaw where he had landed his fist that morning.
The officer’s face went dark with passion. He raised his cane as if to strike Robert. Before he could do so, however, Robert jerked up his stool to protect himself. Simultaneously the two guards sprang forward to protect their superior. But the latter’s courage failed him at the menace of the stool and he let his hand with the cane fall to his side. He contented himself for the time with a murderous look at Robert, who put the chair down, but remained standing for greater freedom of action. The guards fell back, visibly relieved.
“You shall be handled later, sir,” barked the officer. “Meanwhile, do you know the fate in store for your friends?”
“The privilege of beating hell out of your rotten army,” Robert shot back at him. He could have sworn that he saw a brief flicker of amusement in one of the other officer’s eyes as he said this.
Once more the angry officer seemed on the verge of striking Robert, but his eyes fastened upon the stool and he changed his mind. He controlled himself with an effort.
“Another day and you will change your song,” he managed to sputter. “Until thenyouwill have the ‘privilege’ of reflecting here in comfort, while a suitable punishment is devised to repay you for your destruction of our men!”
With that he turned and stamped out of the tent, followed by the other officers.
The two guards viewed Robert with evident awe after this interview. Clearly they were unused to hearing their high officers abused so roundly and carelessly. Perhaps they were saying to themselves something to the effect that this Earth-being must besomeguy.
Their one-cylinder brains were further startled here by Robert’s tumbling the dreaded stool over, preparatory to reclining upon the sandy floor. They exchanged glances uneasily. One of them started as if to object, then seemed to think better of it, relapsing again into a stupid dumbness.
The afternoon sun was well down in the sky when the curious sound of distant firing of the Martians’hilwaicame to Robert’s ears—the first he had heard since his capture. His heart sank as he considered the probable result of the bitter struggle which it heralded. If only that confounded engine had not failed them at the critical moment!
The sounds of battle continued until after sunset, when his guards were relieved by two others whose intelligence and curiosity appeared to be about on a par with those of the first two. One of them possessed a rather remarkable, rudderlike nose which fascinated and diverted Robert for a time, to its owner’s evident discomfiture.
Somehow Robert managed to pass the night in troubled dozing on his hard bed of sand, tormented by anxious thoughts of Zola. He welcomed the first flush of dawn with thanksgiving, despite his weariness. The sound of firing was resumed about this time.
Shortly after his breakfast Robert was visited by Kharnov.
The ruler’s crafty features were disfigured with a scowl. He entered the tent alone, commanding his escort to remain outside.
“You have returned hostility for hospitality, and the penalty shall be death,” he said.
His tones fell with deadly precision, like the pronouncement of a sentence by a criminal judge. An involuntary chill swept over Robert in spite of his effort to appear unmoved.
“I was but protecting a helpless girl from your unwelcome attentions,” he replied, ashamed that he could control the nervousness in his voice only by a great effort. “That you have chosen to pursue her with an army to be resisted is your own folly.”
“I am not here to discuss fine points with you, sir,” returned the emperor sharply, “but to offer you a means of saving your life. You shifted your loyalty once; you can do it again. Aid my army with theSphereand you may return to your planet in peace. Refuse and suffer the consequences!”
“My loyalty was and is only to the right,” retorted Robert. “Your proposition doesn’t interest me.”
He almost forgot his personal fear as he realized with a thrill that Kharnov’s latest attack must have been successfully repulsed or he would not have made this offer.
“Beware! I am offering you your life.”
“I don’t care to buy it at that price.”
The emperor was patently more perplexed than angered by Robert’s rejection of his terms. His code did not permit of an understanding of anyone’s refusal of life for principle. He was concerned merely in deciding just what concession it was necessary to hold out to Robert in order to secure his acquiescence. A crafty thought occurred to him.
“You will also be given as many of the diamonds, so highly valued on your planet, as you can take with you. Does that interest you? Of course, I should require that two or three of my men accompany you while you were operating against the government’s enemies.”
An inspiration came to Robert. Once he got theSpherein midair again—three or a dozen Martians—he might frighten them into submission and land within the city. It was worth trying anyway, and, if it failed, they could but take his life, which it seemed certain he would lose anyway if he flatly refused the emperor’s demand.
“You have the advantage of me,” he said finally. “I accept your terms. But my friend must accompany me to assist in the operation of theSphere.”
“One of my men will assist you after you have instructed him. Your friend must remain a hostage till you have carried out your part of the contract. No harm shall come to him unless you fail.”
This put the matter in a different light. Here was an obstacle that would require real diplomacy to hurdle.
“I fear your man can not learn quickly enough, but I’ll try to teach him,” said Robert, hoping to find some solution later. “However, theSpherecan not be operated until I have discovered and corrected some defect in its machinery.”
“Ah, so that explains your strange landing.”
“Exactly.”
Kharnov pondered a moment.
“Very well,” he resumed. “I shall select the men to accompany you and return later. Meanwhile I will see that you are made more comfortable here.”
A sinister smile played over his face as he turned to go, giving Robert a feeling of unknown, impending evil.
True to Kharnov’s promise, however, the tent promptly was equipped with various comforts, including a couch, table and chair, and other welcome additions. Good food and excellent wines also were brought him.
The soft couch and soothing wine, after his night of sleeplessness, produced a pleasant drowziness which Robert found difficult to resist. He slept, and it was dusk when he awoke.
The distant sounds of battle had ceased again. Dinner was brought to him and two hours passed without further word from Kharnov. Once more drowziness overtook Robert and he dozed. His two guards, who had so far watched him with eyes of hawks, relaxed their vigilance somewhat. They envied him his privilege of sleeping.
“Brother,” said Rudderbeak, finally, “it is not necessary that two of us watch over this sleeper. Let us decide by chance which of us may rest also.”
“Words of wisdom, indeed. Let us do so by all means.”
Fate decided against Rudderbeak. The pebble which he cast at the line drawn on the sand in the tent rolled a trifle too far. So, grumblingly, he took up the long night watch while his companion stretched out upon the floor with a sigh of contentment. He was to be warned in ample time at the approach of anyone.
Here fate again took a hand. Rudderbeak found standing too great an effort with two peacefully slumbering beings before him. He felt that he was at least entitled to the luxury of sitting down. So he availed himself of the comfortable chair so lately brought in for their captive.
The chair creaked as he settled his weight in it. Had it not been for this, another sound just outside the tent might have attracted his attention. Even as he stretched his long legs in extravagant comfort a shadow without flattened itself upon the ground.
A little while after that Robert woke abruptly to see a face within a few inches of his. The lantern suspended in the tent top cast weird shadows around the enclosure, giving the features of the countenance above his a horrible aspect. An involuntary cry arose in his throat, but was suddenly checked. For there was a strange familiarity about the glint of red in the intruder’s hair! The shadow-blurred features quickly lost their ferocity. It was Taggert.
Their hands met in a clasp of glad reunion. No word passed between them as Taggert proceeded to examine the length of chain with which Robert was fastened. He shook his head as he saw the heavy links.
Robert saw his mouth straighten into a firm, hard line as he stared at the sleeping guards. He removed the gun from the side of the sitting guard. Then, drawing an object from his pocket, he walked over to where Rudderbeak lay. He hesitated.
“Got to be done,” he muttered. Raising his arm he brought the object down upon the slumbering guard’s head forcibly. The Martian slumped deeper into his chair. His gun slipped to the sand. Stooping quickly, Taggert picked up the fallen gun, retaining it and handing Robert his automatic. The other guard, stretched upon the ground, had not stirred yet.
Deftly Taggert searched the stunned guard. But the key he was looking for was not in the Martian’s possession. He turned his attention to the other guard, who still slumbered. As Taggert meditated, the sleeping guard stirred uneasily. In spite of the reporter’s efforts to avoid noise the disturbance had evidently been sufficient to break into the sleeping guard’s subconscious mind. He opened his eyes suddenly, looking directly at Taggert.
Before the Martian could, gather his senses, however, Taggert pressed thelahanagainst his chest.
“Not a sound!” he commanded in the Martian tongue. “Now give me the key to this anklet—quick.”
The Martian was wide awake enough to realize his helplessness. He promptly pulled the desired key out of his pocket and handed it to Taggert.
Robert covered the Martian with the automatic while Taggert fitted the key to the anklet. A moment later he was free.
They were now faced by the problem of binding and gagging the conscious Martian. No rope was available within the tent.
“His shirt,” suggested Robert, following his inspiration by pulling the garment off the now completely cowed Martian.
Swiftly they bound, gagged and blindfolded him, the twisted arms of the shirt making fair substitutes for cord, though there was not enough to bind him as thoroughly as they wished. They locked the anklet upon him after shortening the chain by twisting and knotting it round the big center-pole. The unconscious Martian they left as he was.
Warning the bound Martian with dire threats, they slipped out of the tent into the night.
Had Phobus been shining then they would surely have been seen at once; but the little Martian moon had set an hour past. Creeping painfully past the clustered tents they came at last to the edge of the camp, which, fortunately, was not a great distance away.
Here it was necessary for them to pass the pickets. The brilliant starlight and level, open desert made their escape extremely difficult. How far apart the pickets were stationed they did not know, but one paced slowly across a stretch just ahead of where they lay partly concealed in a slight depression or wave in the desert’s floor.
Cautiously they wormed forward to another shallow depression while the near-by sentry’s back was turned. Here they waited anxiously as he paced back and again turned away. One thing in their favor for the present was that the sentry directed his attention chiefly in the opposite direction, toward the city. That would become their disadvantage, however, when once they succeeded in getting past the sentries and between them and the city.
No sooner had the sentry turned his back again than they were scrambling feverishly toward a distant, faint strip of shadow, which indicated their next scanty haven of temporary safety. Their arms and knees were weary to the point of exhaustion; but they pressed on desperately. Still the little line of shadow ahead seemed far away. Would they make it before the sentry turned and discovered them? Surely he would notice the track where they had pawed their way through the loose sand.
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 theSpherewere 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 theSphere, 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 theSphereafter 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 theSpherebut 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 theSphereis 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.
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 theSphere, 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 fromher. 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.
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 asgao, 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, butthis” (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 finelunas, 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 intynir, the yellow metal which we call gold, and which is so plentiful here but so rare on our planet—or inrahmobis, 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 theSphere.”
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 theSphereintact? 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.
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 theSphereto 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 raremihida. Themihidawas 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 ofirel, 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 theSphere’sdiscovery 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 theSphere’sreservoirs completely. TheSpherewas 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.