language. With this added incentive I nearly drove Sola distracted
by my importunities to hasten on my education and within a few more
days I had mastered the Martian tongue sufficiently well to enable
me to carry on a passable conversation and to fully understand
practically all that I heard.

At this time our sleeping quarters were occupied by three or four
females and a couple of the recently hatched young, beside Sola and
her youthful ward, myself, and Woola the hound. After they had
retired for the night it was customary for the adults to carry on a
desultory conversation for a short time before lapsing into sleep,
and now that I could understand their language I was always a keen
listener, although I never proffered any remarks myself.

On the night following the prisoner's visit to the audience chamber
the conversation finally fell upon this subject, and I was all ears
on the instant. I had feared to question Sola relative to the
beautiful captive, as I could not but recall the strange expression
I had noted upon her face after my first encounter with the
prisoner. That it denoted jealousy I could not say, and yet,
judging all things by mundane standards as I still did, I felt it
safer to affect indifference in the matter until I learned more
surely Sola's attitude toward the object of my solicitude.

Sarkoja, one of the older women who shared our domicile, had been
present at the audience as one of the captive's guards, and it
was toward her the question turned.

"When," asked one of the women, "will we enjoy the death throes of
the red one? or does Lorquas Ptomel, Jed, intend holding her for