The keepers opened the gate, and Gerald walked out, wondering greatly at what he had seen, but unable to ask any questions, because he could not speak their language.
Just then, however, Monck arrived upon the scene. He looked very grave when informed what had occurred, and examined the lock with a perplexed air and many dubious shakes of the head.
'What will they do with the dead amalpi?' Gerald asked, as he walked away with the engineer.
'Put it back again. It is not dead; it will recover in a few hours, and to-morrow will be as lively as ever,' was the answer. Then the speaker went on to explain. 'Those tridents,' he said, alluding to the three-pronged wands, 'are really a kind of electric gun, if I may use the term. This weapon also—like so many of the Martians' greatest discoveries—is the invention of our royal master, King Ivanta. He tried for years to discover a weapon which would stun or paralyse and not kill. He has a horror of bloodshed, and he set himself to devise a weapon which should do away with the horrors of war by rendering killing and maiming unnecessary. He found it at last in this weapon, which simply paralyses the muscles for a certain time, without killing or inflicting any permanent injury. People or animals—even the largest and most ferocious creatures, as you have here seen—struck in this way are merely rendered quite helpless for a time, so that you can bind them, or do what you please with them.'
'Ah! like I was! I understand now!' cried Gerald. 'All I felt was a slight prick, as if some one had hurt me with a needle, and immediately I collapsed and rolled over, utterly unable to move, yet not unconscious.'
Monck nodded thoughtfully. 'Ay, I remember,' said he.
'So do I,' said Gerald, in a tone which indicated that the remembrance was a sore one. 'And that reminds me that you have never given me any explanation as to why I was treated in that fashion! I frequently see the chap I have to thank for it—who, I have been given to understand, is a sort of king in his own country—and his confederate, the one I called the Ogre. I know their names too—Agrando and Kazzaro. Whenever they catch sight of me they glare at me as though they would like to eat me!'
'Well, they got a precious good wigging from King Ivanta over that affair before the whole Court,' Monck declared with a smile. 'So it is not surprising that they do not exactly fall upon your neck and embrace you.'
'But what was their object?' Gerald persisted.
Monck seemed to be ruminating. 'I cannot say with certainty; I can only guess,' he answered thoughtfully. 'Agrando, you must know, is the ruler of one of the last countries which Ivanta conquered and brought under his sway. He reigned over a numerous and powerful nation, and there was a long and bitter struggle ere Ivanta was completely successful. Agrando did not like giving in, and I don't think he has become quite reconciled to it even yet.'