14
“Boys, howdy,” Taggert greeted them.
The Sphere had been safely brought and placed in the building provided. Official greetings and curiosity had been taken care of and the three adventurers were again united and alone.
“Pretty nearly scared that little Martian stiff,” Taggert went on, “not to mention myself. We hopped off a little bit too strong and before you could say ‘uncle’ we were almost lost in the old ozone. Guess he thought I’d decided to kidnap him and take him home. He jabbered something scandalous. But I soon got things straightened out and we beat it here P. D. Q.”
The days following were spent chiefly in the learning of the Martian language by all three. Robert was particularly anxious to master the Martian code of writing, sufficiently to enable him to decipher the note which had been thrown to him in the garden. Not trusting the interpreter, he could not request him to read it to him.
He selected characters and words from the note and tactfully brought them out during the lessons until he finally had obtained a fairly accurate idea of the note’s contents. That the girl and her father were political prisoners by the emperor’s command he made out. Just why, or what her immediate danger was, Robert was still unable to decipher accurately, but he got the impression that she was threatened with a morganatic marriage to the emperor.
Until he could learn the exact contents of the epistle and grasp a sufficient knowledge of the Martian tongue to discover something about their political intrigues, Robert decided that any move he could make would result in more harm than good for her. He longed for some means of communication with her in order that he might let her know that he was but waiting the right time to help her. If he could but speak or write the same language! Then he might at least manage somehow to tell her that he had not forgotten her. Though he had not yet seen her he stedfastly believed her to be the girl of his dreams.
At the end of a week Robert, in his zeal, had so far out-distanced his companions in the mastery of the Martian tongue that they were both continually asking him about this or that word. He could already make most of their wants known through speech to the attendants.
It was about this time that one of their two attendants, a young, pleasant-faced chap, called Modah, startled Robert by stealthily handing him a small, sealed envelope when they were alone for a moment. Making a sign of secrecy the Martian hurried off. Robert pocketed the envelope as the other attendant entered just then.
The reading of this note, though longer, proved easier than the first. Robert recognized the signature immediately. However, it was not until two days later that he succeeded in completely deciphering both notes, and that only by tactful questioning of the interpreter.
The first read thus:
My friend:
I call you “friend” because they tell me you have come from a far planet and I know that one so daring can not be cruel like my captors.
My father and I are held as political prisoners here by Emperor Kharnov who is trying to force me to marry him.
If you can read this letter, will you not try to help my father and me to escape?
Zola.
The second note plainly had been written less hurriedly than the other, in which several characters were imperfectly formed. This one covered two sheets:
My friend:
Modah, the faithful, will give you this note. He has told me much about you and I feel that I may, indeed, count on you as a friend.
This is to tell you that he can be depended upon to death. He was a servant of my father’s palace in the country of the snow where my father ruled. Modah secured a place in the emperor’s palace to help us. My maid, who came with me, also is loyal.
The emperor rules supreme over the entire planet, but he usurped the crown during my father’s youth, giving my father the governorship of one of the polar regions instead.
He feared my father, and, on the pretext of a conference, invited us here only to make us prisoners. He threatens to take my father’s life if he does not publicly renounce his title, and will try to force me to become a morganatic wife to himself.
Help our just cause, O my friend, and our gratitude will not be lacking.
Trust Modah.
Zola.
The notes made a profound impression upon Robert. He pictured the girl of his vision again for the hundredth time. Could it really have been she whom he had already dreamed of thrice? But no matter who she was, he was firmly determined to find some means of helping her.
By this time he had a fair command of the Martian writing— enough, at least, to write an intelligible, if elementary, message. That night he succeeded in passing a brief note to Modah, unobserved by Numid, the other attendant. In this note Robert asked Modah to see him in the seclusion of the East Room as soon as he could elude the sharp-eyed Numid.
He had selected the East Room, a sort of library in their apartment, for the rendezvous because it had but one entrance. Here Robert waited anxiously for what seemed hours. Finally there came a light, furtive tapping on the door. Then Modah slipped into the room quickly.
It had been the professor’s suggestion that Robert talk to Modah alone, since it was evident that it was Robert in whom his interest and that of his mistress was centered.
“Numid wasted much time, Elah, Talk, talk, talk. I waited till he slept—then came. He must not know. Would get suspicious.”
“I want to help your mistress,” Robert told him. “How will it be possible for me to see her?”
“I have arranged to take you to her this night, if you wish.”
“Good work, Modah. Shall we start now?”
“At once, Elah. Follow me.”
So, with quickened pulse, Robert accompanied him, having first informed Professor Palmer and Taggert of his mission. Through the apartment they passed silently and entered a small antechamber at its rear. From this chamber several doorways gave egress, one of which led into a long, dark and narrow passage where Robert had to feel his way cautiously. The uncomfortable suspicion occurred to him that this might all be but a scheme to do away with him quietly. But he reconsidered, realizing how completely they were all in the Martians’ power; it did not seem reasonable to suppose that they would take such elaborate pains to do away with him.
Presently they emerged into another anteroom similar to the one adjoining their own apartment. A soft glow from a shaded lamp illuminated the chamber. Through a broad archway on the right floated the soft strains of some stringed instrument. Robert halted unconsciously. Never had he heard sweeter music.
Modah’s insistent gestures finally roused him from his revery. Having succeeded in attracting Robert’s attention, he passed through the archway, motioning him to follow.
The heavy portieres parted before them. A large room of luxurious tapestries and upholsterings dimly illuminated by rose-shaded lights met his eyes. As they entered, the music ceased.
Then Robert saw a vision rise from beside a large harplike instrument at the other side of the room and approach them. As she passed a lamp its rays bathed her head in its glow. His dreams were come true. She was the girl of his vision! Not for nothing had he thrice dreamed of her. He would have known her among a thousand.
The majesty of empresses and the grace of a nymph were hers as she moved toward them. Serenely, and without hesitation, she came directly to Robert and placed her hands in his. Her lovely eyes looked into his trustfully.
“I knew you would come,” she said simply.
Her low, clear voice was a joy. The loveliness of her held him speechless.
“And I knew that I should find you,” he answered, finding his tongue at last.
She led him to a couch and commanded him to sit beside her. Modah had vanished.
“We may be surprized at any moment by a visit from the emperor or one of his spies,” she said. “We must make our plans quickly.”
“I am at your command, princess,” said Robert.
“There remain but two days in which to escape. The time set by the usurper for my father’s final decision expires then. My father will never bow to him. I shudder to think of what may follow.”
Robert pondered a minute. Obviously the Sphere offered the most promising avenue of escape; but how to gain access to it at night without arousing suspicion and probably fatal resistance was the question. A plan came to him. He could visit the Sphere the following afternoon under some plausible excuse without exciting suspicion, and could remain tinkering in it, ostensibly to make some repairs. Unless disturbed, he could wait till dark, then cautiously bring it over to the garden.
The scheme was simple enough, but the possibilities for failure were numerous. Should the emperor become suspicious and have the Sphere watched, his plans would be of no avail. A dozen other possible obstacles occurred to him but no better plan.
Swiftly he outlined it to Zola, obtaining her promise that she and her father would be in readiness to leave the following night. Her absolute confidence in his ability at once disturbed and inspired Robert. He felt that he must succeed at all costs. Here was probably his only chance of saving the maid of his dreams. He must not be found wanting.
“Quick! The emperor!” said Modah, tensely, appearing suddenly, as from nowhere.
Pressing the princess’ hand in hasty farewell, Robert followed Modah quickly. Down the long hallway they hurried. At a dark and forbidding doorway Modah halted and signaled Robert to follow. The next moment they had plunged into the darkness of a narrow passage leading off the main one. Groping blindly along the wall in the wake of Modah’s hurrying footsteps. Robert narrowly missed flattening his nose against the opposite wall as they turned a sharp bend. A moment later, however, a faint light glimmered ahead, revealing Modah scurrying along, a few yards in advance.
A moment later Modah stopped. Together they listened for some sound of pursuit. But the silence of the massive, walled passage was unbroken save for their own bated breath. Once more they hurried ahead, and soon Robert recognized with relief the passage leading into their apartment.
Both Taggert and the professor were eagerly awaiting him. Briefly Robert explained the result of his excursion, and suggested his plans for their escape with the princess and her father. It developed that Modah had taken a different and roundabout route back for greater safety, though the divers dim passages all had looked much alike to Robert. He was only certain that it had taken them longer to return. He resolved to substantially reward the vigilant Modah at the first opportunity. Had the emperor discovered him with the princess, all would have been lost.
Early in the morning Taggert left to examine the Sphere and survey the ground for an escape. Ostensibly he went to obtain some needed articles of wearing apparel. Robert and the professor took the precaution to instruct him as to what articles they wanted at breakfast, while Modah and Numid were both present.
Immediately after breakfast, and during Taggert’s absence, they were visited by the emperor. Fearing to hear of his own clandestine call upon the princess, Robert prepared himself for the worst.
But the emperor apparently was ignorant of the matter, for he merely inquired regarding their welfare and begged them to accept an invitation to attend a meeting of his learned men to discuss life on the two planets; he seemed much pleased over their progress in the Martian tongue.
While he was there Taggert returned with the articles mentioned that morning. Those he made no effort to conceal. After a few words with him the emperor bid them adieu.
“When is this meeting he’s spouting about?” Taggert inquired anxiously.
“Tomorrow evening,” said Robert. “Too bad we must miss it. Professor Palmer could gather a great deal of interesting data regarding Mars from those men.”
“He would if those pirates would give him a chance to ask a question,” said Taggert. “But the chances are that they’d keep him dizzy satisfying their own curiosity.”
“Never mind, boys. I’ll no doubt have other favorable opportunities to gather all the data I want from our polar friends when we reach their country. What is more important now is the condition of the Sphere. You haven’t told us what shape you found things in, Taggert.”
“Oh, everything looks all right, thank goodness,” answered Taggert. “I took a peep into the petrol tanks, too, and turned the gyrostats over a few revolutions. Saw a couple of these runts hanging around, but I guess we’ll be able to pull off our party O. K. I tried to act as if there was something out of order for their benefit in case they were spies.”
“Good idea. That will offer a plausible reason for my going over this afternoon,” said Robert.
Having laid all their plans carefully, Robert and Taggert visited the Sphere late that afternoon, and together they tinkered and tested for the benefit of the two or three Martians who were ever about, as well as for their own benefit to see that everything was in working condition. Fortunately everything was in the same shape as when they had left it. About sunset Taggert left, taking word that Robert was engrossed in making some delicate repairs and would not return for dinner.