ng, Father of Therns. Where may he be found?"

"Follow me," said one of the guard, and, turning, led me across
the outer courtyard toward a second buttressed wall.

Why the apparent ease with which I seemingly deceived them did
not rouse my suspicions I know not, unless it was that my mind was
still so full of that fleeting glimpse of my beloved princess that
there was room in it for naught else. Be that as it may, the fact
is that I marched buoyantly behind my guide straight into the jaws
of death.

Afterward I learned that thern spies had been aware of my coming
for hours before I reached the hidden fortress.

The gate had been purposely left ajar to tempt me on. The guards
had been schooled well in their part of the conspiracy; and I,
more like a schoolboy than a seasoned warrior, ran headlong into
the trap.

At the far side of the outer court a narrow door let into the
angle made by one of the buttresses with the wall. Here my guide
produced a key and opened the way within; then, stepping back, he
motioned me to enter.

"Matai Shang is in the temple court beyond," he said; and as Woola
and I passed through, the fellow closed the door quickly upon us.

The nasty laugh that came to my ears through the heavy planking of
the door after the lock clicked was my first intimation that all
was not as it should be.

I found myself in a small, circular chamber within the buttress.
Before me a door opened, presumably, upon the inner court beyond.
For a moment I hesitated, all my suspicions now suddenly, though
tardily, aroused; then, with a shrug of my shoulders, I opened the
door and stepped out into the glare of torches that lighted the
inner court.

Directly opposite me a massive tower rose to a height of three
hundred feet. It was of the strangely beautiful modern Barsoomian
style of architecture, its entire surface hand carved in bold
relief with intricate and fanciful designs. Thirty feet above
the courtyard and overlooking it was a broad balcony, and there,
indeed, was Matai Shang, and with him were Thurid and Phaidor,
Thuvia, and Dejah Thoris--the last two heavily ironed. A handful
of thern warriors stood just behind the little party.

As I entered the enclosure the eyes of those in the balcony were
full upon me.

An ugly smile distorted the cruel lips of Matai Shang. Thurid
hurled a taunt at me and placed a familiar hand upon the shoulder
of my princess. Like a tigress she turned upon him, stri