“That is not for me to decide,” Argon answered. “I know only in part the present state of things; but I know that several forces are working together in behalf of Miriam and you. They are powerful forces; humanly speaking, they could hardly be more so. On the other hand, Torpeon is putting forth his whole strength, which is very formidable, and no scruples will restrain him. But neither you nor I know the plan of campaign on either side; so that if we were to break in on our own account, we might happen to do more harm than good. Just as a parallel example, suppose Miriam had carried out that experiment a while ago!”
Jack reddened. “A woman in extremity has a right to the protection of death.”
“That lies between her and the spirit,” said Argon.
“May not the spirit work through me?”
Argon was silent.
“I don’t know what other plans there may be,” Jack resumed. “My plan is to be with her, to save her if I can; if not, to die with her. Who else is so much concerned as I?”
He was speaking with the utmost energy, but with self-control. Argon was conscious of an increase of moral stature in him; he felt the contagion of his mood and the justice of his argument. But yonder swung the red planet, beyond the reach of either of them. The young Saturnian had no power at his personal disposal to bridge the distance. Such adventures could be undertaken only by cooperation of larger means. He recalled Lamara’s words at parting, “The spirit gives us what we need!” With all his heart, at that moment, he shared his friend’s longing for light and aid.
They were standing but a few rods from the entrance of the amphitheater. Argon, whose eyes were turned in that direction, saw some one emerge from the portal who did not at once move toward them, or seem to be aware of their propinquity. He appeared to be contemplating the great structure, and thoughtfully estimating its architectural qualities and proportions. He rested a hand upon one of the huge pillars of the entrance, and examined a design wrought upon it by the unknown artist who had taken part in the erection of the only building in Saturn which was permanent. Argon himself had often studied this design, executed in low relief and representing a flowering rose-bush growing out of a skull. The stranger traced the outlines with his finger. Argon had never fathomed the meaning of the symbol, which belonged to an era removed immeasurably from the present. Who could this stranger be who interested himself in Saturnian problems of archeology? He was not a Saturnian; his dress was unfamiliar, and he bore the insignia of none of the great societies.
The man now turned his face seaward, and perceived the others. He made a courteous gesture of salutation, but remained where he was. Jack, who now observed him for the first time, was seize with an unaccountable curiosity or interest. The aspect of the unknown was so cordial and inviting that the two youths were insensibly drawn toward him.
He was of commanding stature, with a light and lofty carriage of head and shoulders, and a grace of posture and movement which indicated the vigor of manhood in its prime. He wore an undergarment of a lustrous tissue woven of gold and white threads, reaching half-way down his thigh, and a short, white cloak with a deep-violet hem. Sandals were on his feet; his head was uncovered, except by the wavy curls of his yellow hair. The smile in his eyes stirred also the corners of his lips, and his whole countenance conveyed an impression of good fellowship, intelligence, and effectiveness such as made impossibilities seem easy and discouragement absurd. Life, in his companionship, would be uninterrupted achievement and delight; and this was so obvious at the first glance that he immediately wore the guise of a tried and familiar friend, though neither Jack nor Argon could recall having ever before seen him.