"It is a place of horror," I replied.
"Hush," he cautioned; "that is sacrilege."
"It is sacrilege no longer since John Carter and Tars Tarkas snatched the veil of secrecy from the valley Dor and disposed of the myth of Issus, Goddess of Life Eternal." Even after I had told him the whole tragic story of the false gods of Mars, Nur An remained skeptical, so closely are the superstitions of religion woven into every fiber of our being.
We were both a trifle fatigued after our battle with the strong current of the river, and perhaps, too, we were suffering from reaction from the nervous shock of the ordeal through which we had passed. So we remained there, resting upon the rocky shore of the river of mystery. Eventually our conversation turned to what was uppermost in the minds of both and yet which each hesitated to mention—the fate of Tavia and Phao.
"I wish that they, too, had been sentenced to The Death," I said, "for then at least we might be with them and protect them."
"I am afraid that we shall never see them again," said Nur An gloomily. "What a cruel fate that I should have found Phao only to lose her again irretrievably so quickly."
"It is indeed a strange trick of fate that after Tul Axtar stole her from you, he should have lost her too, and then that you should find her in Tjanath."
He looked at me with a slightly puzzled expression for a moment and then his face cleared. "Phao is not the woman of whom I told you in the dungeon at Tjanath," he said. "Phao I loved long before; she was my first love. After I lost her I thought that I never could care for a woman again, but this other one came into my life and, knowing that Phao was gone forever, I found some consolation in my new love, but I realize now that it was not the same, that no love could ever displace that which I felt for Phao."
"You lost her irretrievably once before," I reminded him, "but you found her again; perhaps you will find her once more."
"I wish that I might share your optimism," he said.