carceration. As closely
as I could figure, there remained a bare thirty days ere Dejah Thoris
would be ordered to the arena for the rites of Issus.

As the terrible picture forced itself vividly across my imagination, I
buried my face in my arms, and only with the greatest difficulty was it
that I repressed the tears that welled to my eyes despite my every
effort. To think of that beautiful creature torn and rended by the
cruel fangs of the hideous white apes! It was unthinkable. Such a
horrid fact could not be; and yet my reason told me that within thirty
days my incomparable Princess would be fought over in the arena of the
First Born by those very wild beasts; that her bleeding corpse would be
dragged through the dirt and the dust, until at last a part of it would
be rescued to be served as food upon the tables of the black nobles.

I think that I should have gone crazy but for the sound of my
approaching jailer. It distracted my attention from the terrible
thoughts that had been occupying my entire mind. Now a new and grim
determination came to me. I would make one super-human effort to
escape. Kill my jailer by a ruse, and trust to fate to lead me to the
outer world in safety.

With the thought came instant action. I threw myself upon the floor of
my cell close by the wall, in a strained and distorted posture, as
though I were dead after a struggle or convulsions. When he should
stoop over me I had but to grasp his throat with one hand and strike
him a terrific blow with the slack of my chain, which I gripped firmly
in my right hand for the purpose.

Nearer and nearer came the doomed man. Now I heard him halt before me.
There was a muttered exclamation, and then a step as he came to my
side. I felt him kneel beside me. My grip tightened upon the chain.
He leaned close to me. I must open my eyes to find his throat, grasp
it, and strike one mighty final blow all at the same instant.

The thing worked just as I had planned. So brief was the interval
between the opening of my eyes and the fall of the chain that I could
not check it, though it that minute interval I recognized the face so
close to mine as that of my son, Carthoris.

God! What cruel and malign fate had worked to such a frightful end!
What devious chain of circumstances had led my boy to my side at this
one particular minute of our lives when I could strike him down and
kill him, in ignorance of his identity! A benign though tardy