“Well?” asked Carthoris.
“We are to die the death,” whispered Jav faintly.
Further than that he would not say. He just sat upon the edge of the jeddak’s couch and waited.
Carthoris moved to Thuvia’s side, and, standing there with naked sword, he let his brave eyes roam ceaselessly about the great chamber, that no foe might spring upon them unseen.
For what seemed hours no sound broke the silence of their living tomb. No sign gave their executioners of the time or manner of their death. The suspense was terrible. Even Carthoris of Helium began to feel the terrible strain upon his nerves. If he could but know how and whence the hand of death was to strike, he could meet it unafraid, but to suffer longer the hideous tension of this blighting ignorance of the plans of their assassins was telling upon him grievously.
Thuvia of Ptarth drew quite close to him. She felt safer with the feel of his arm against hers, and with the contact of her the man took a new grip upon himself. With his old-time smile he turned toward her.
“It would seem that they are trying to frighten us to death,” he said, laughing; “and, shame be upon me that I should confess it, I think they were close to accomplishing their designs upon me.”
She was about to make some reply when a fearful shriek broke from the lips of the Lotharian.
“The end is coming!” he cried. “The end is coming! The floor! The floor! Oh, Komal, be merciful!”
Thuvia and Carthoris did not need to look at the floor to be aware of the strange movement that was taking place.