Where those rays found the little party that crept cautiously toward the Crypt, it did not betray them under the red camouflage blankets. They moved silently ahead, invisible, determined.
"We are there," Deisanocta whispered at last to Barry Williams, beside her under the cloak. "We must rise and go on foot the rest of the way."
"O.K." he said. He scoured the sky, his sharp blue eyes trying to pierce the mist. "If any ships come over, they won't spot us. The mist is thick here.
"The trick will be to get by the guard at the entrance. We don't want to have to overcome him and risk an alarm."
Deisanocta was speaking to the Martians. They rose with Barry and the Princess, and the little party stayed close together to avoid being separated in the white shroud about them.
A suggestion from Barry, and they formed into single file and moved forward. A sharp-eyed Martian was in the lead.
"We are fortunate," the Princess said. "The guard is away from his post."
"Hurry," ordered Barry. "Inside! If we meet him after we're in, that's too bad for him."
Silently as the whiteness about them, the party filed into the Crypt. It was colder here, for the tunnel sloped sharply downward, and the air was heavier. They had gone only a few steps before the last wisps of the mist disappeared. The heavier air had held it out of the Crypt.
About them, the walls shone with a faint radiance.