"And if he kills the lion you will give him his liberty?" demanded Tarzan.
Nemone laughed. "I promise that I will, but he will not kill the lion."
"He might," said Tarzan; "men have killed lions before."
"With their bare hands?" asked Nemone.
"You mean the man will not be armed?" demanded Tarzan incredulously.
"Why, of course not," exclaimed Nemone. "He is not being put in there to kill or wound a fine young lion but to be killed."
"And he has no chance then! That is not sport; it is murder!"
"Perhaps you would like to go down and defend him," sneered Erot. "The Queen would give the fellow his liberty if he had a champion who would kill the lion, for that is the custom."
"It is a custom that is without a precedent since I have been Queen," said Nemone. "It is true that it is a law of the arena, but I have yet to see a champion volunteer to take the risk."
The lion paced across the courtyard and stood directly beneath the balcony, glaring up at them. He was a splendid beast, young but full-grown.