To which Cabot replied: “With daylight I shall come.”
As he came out of the house he looked up at the sky. The background, against which swirled the smoke clouds, now showed faintly purple. By the time he rejoined his party by the plane, day had come. And it was well, for the buildings in the next inclosure had started to burn.
Cabot gave his parting instructions to the captain of the guard: “Take six of these eight rifles. Convoy the Princess Quivven to her father’s palace.”
“But am I not going with you?” she interrupted in surprise.
“I am afraid not, my dear,” Myles sadly replied. “You have been a good little pal, and I hate to leave you, but you would be entirely out of place among the Cupians. Besides there is every chance of our perishing in crossing the boiling seas.”
“Then you are going home?” she wailed. “You are planning to desert us in our extremity?”
“No,” he answered, “I shall first fight the ant-men, and do all that I can to save Vairkingi. When I am done, you will be safer here than you would be with me.”
But she sank to the ground by his side and buried her head on her arms, sobbing: “Myles, Myles, I love you. Can’t you see that I loved you all this time? Oh, you are so blind. You must take me with you. Your Quivven. Your own little Golden Flame.”
The earth-man sternly put her in the care of one of the guards, saying grimly: “This makes it more impossible for you to go with me, Quivven, for I have a wife and child in that other land across the seas. I am sorry, sorrier than I can say, that you have come to love me. Can’t you see, Quivven, that this effectually seals the question? If it had not been for this, I might have yielded to your entreaties, but now it is impossible.”
Then to the captain of the guards: “With these six rifles, march to the palace and join the forces of Theoph and Jud. I will endeavor to destroy as many of the beasts as possible before I finally leave you and depart for my own country. Start at once, leaving only two or three of your number to help us.”