“What do you suppose can have become of the boys?” cried the Princess in alarm, then noticing Ione’s eyes fastened on the battlefield in horrified wonder, she turned to look in the same direction and nearly fainted when she saw Harold and the Prince, each engaged in a hand-to-hand encounter with giant Martians, while all around were strewn the bodies of the dead and dying; for few of the many who had started out so valiantly a few hours before survived the first onslaught of the enemy.
COMING TOWARD THEM WERE TWO BEAUTIFUL BEINGS
(p. [36])
While they watched, Harold caught his foot, stumbled, then fell and the giant raised his sword to pierce his body, but instead of passing through the form of his adversary, the sword was buried to its hilt in the earth at his feet, for nobody was there. The giant rubbed his eyes, looking dazed and incredulous, but still saw no one who even resembled his late antagonist. I suppose you all know why this was? Harold had just thought of his magic robe and wished himself invisible and at the top of the hill. He reached there just in time to catch Ione in his arms for she had fainted. The last thing she saw had been the upraised arm of the Martian, and the sun shining on the glittering sword as it descended to put an end to Harold’s life.
But the Prince! What had become of him? Being an expert swordsman he had killed his antagonist, a man twice his own size and weight, but agility and swiftness of thrust had won the day against size and weight. His fencing lessons in the Palace at home had served him in good stead. He, too, now used his wishing robe and reached Harold and the girls just as Ione was reviving and asking how in the world they ever reached the battlefield and got mixed up with the Martians.
“Well, it happened in this way,” said the Prince. “Harold and I became so excited watching the fight that we could scarcely keep out of it and when we saw the side we were in sympathy with losing ground, we wished ourselves in the midst of the fray with broadswords in our hands, so of course the first thing we knew we were there fighting like the native Martians. But where is our guide?”
“I am sure I do not know. We left him with you,” said Ione.
“Yes, I know, but the last I saw of him he was standing beside us watching the battle.”
“You don’t suppose that he too engaged in the fight, do you?” asked the Prince.
“But if he did, where is he now, for all are dead but the one man whom Harold failed to kill,” said Ione.