At that instant the door burst open and a man rushed into the room. It was Tul Axtar. He was very pale and he was breathing hard. At sight of me he halted and shrank back and I thought that he was going to turn and run, but he only looked fearfully back through the open door and then he turned to me, trembling.
"They are coming!" he cried in a voice of terror. "They will tear me to pieces."
"Who is coming?" I demanded.
"The people," he said. "They have forced the gates and they are coming. Do you not hear them?"
So that was the noise that had attracted my attention—the hungry hordes of Jahar searching out the author of their misery.
"The Jhama is outside that window," I said. "If you will come aboard her as a prisoner of war, I will take you to the Warlord of Barsoom."
"He will kill me, too," wailed Tul Axtar.
"He should," I assured him.
He stood looking at me for a moment and I could see in his eyes and the expression of his face the reflection of a dawning idea. His countenance lightened. He looked almost hopeful. "I will come," he said; "but first let me get one thing to take with me. It is in yonder cabinet."
"Hasten," I said.