the bald and shiny dome of the dead man in his arms. The last
fleeting glimpse that I obtained of his profile as he passed from
my sight without the chamber revealed a cunning smile of triumph
upon his lips.

Only Tars Tarkas, Thuvia, and I were left. The fatal marksmanship
of the therns had snatched from our companions whatever slender
chance they had of gaining the perilous freedom of the world without.

So soon as the last of the gruesome procession had disappeared the
girl urged us to take up our flight once more.

She, too, had noted the questioning attitude of the thern who had
borne Sator Throg away.

"It bodes no good for us, O Prince," she said. "For even though
this fellow dared not chance accusing you in error, there be those
above with power sufficient to demand a closer scrutiny, and that,
Prince would indeed prove fatal."

I shrugged my shoulders. It seemed that in any event the outcome
of our plight must end in death. I was refreshed from my sleep,
but still weak from loss of blood. My wounds were painful. No
medicinal aid seemed possible. How I longed for the almost
miraculous healing power of the strange salves and lotions of the
green Martian women. In an hour they would have had me as new.

I was discouraged. Never had a feeling of such utter hopelessness
come over me in the face of danger. Then the long flowing, yellow
locks of the Holy Thern, caught by some vagrant draught, blew about