re can be no alliance," I said, "between a traitor to Helium and a
prince of the House of Tardos Mors. I do not believe, Zat Arrras, that
the great Jeddak is dead."

Zat Arrras shrugged his shoulders.

"It will not be long, John Carter," he said, "that your opinions will
be of interest even to yourself, so make the best of them while you
can. Zat Arrras will permit you in due time to reflect further upon the
magnanimous offer he has made you. Into the silence and darkness of
the pits you will enter upon your reflection this night with the
knowledge that should you fail within a reasonable time to agree to the
alternative which has been offered you, never shall you emerge from the
darkness and the silence again. Nor shall you know at what minute the
hand will reach out through the darkness and the silence with the keen
dagger that shall rob you of your last chance to win again the warmth
and the freedom and joyousness of the outer world."

Zat Arrras clapped his hands as he ceased speaking. The guards returned.

Zat Arrras waved his hand in my direction.

"To the pits," he said. That was all. Four men accompanied me from
the chamber, and with a radium hand-light to illumine the way, escorted
me through seemingly interminable tunnels, down, ever down beneath the
city of Helium.

At length they halted within a fair-sized chamber. There were rings
set in the rocky walls. To them chains were fastened, and at the ends
of many of the chains were human skeletons. One of these they kicked
aside, and, unlocking the huge padlock that had held a chain about what
had once been a human ankle, they snapped the iron band about my own
leg. Then they left me, taking the light with them.

Utter darkness prevailed. For a few minutes I could hear the clanking
of accoutrements, but even this grew fainter and fainter, until at last
the silence was as complete as the darkness. I was alone with my
gruesome companions--with the bones of dead men whose fate was likely
but the index of my own.

How long I stood listening in the darkness I do not know, but the
silence was unbroken, and at last I sunk to the hard floor of my
prison, where, leaning my head against the stony wall, I slept.

It must have been several hours later that I awakened to find a young
man standing before me. In one hand he bore a light, in the other a
receptacle containing a gruel-like mixture--the common prison fare of
Barsoom.

"Zat Arrras sends you