The column soon overtook them. Room in an officers’ conveyance was quickly and eagerly made for them by its solicitous occupants, and they rolled back through the city gates in short order.
The approach of the victors had already been observed, and the great city fairly bristled with gay flags. Welcoming, hysterical throngs greeted them at the gates with deafening cheers and shouting.
Among the first to greet them were Hakon and Professor Palmer. They arrived astride a pair of fine lunas, as the victorious troops were entering the gates. These animals, which resemble our horses, were of a small, precious herd owned by Hakon, they being quite rare.
With a glad cry Zola leaped out of the conveyance and ran toward her father. Likewise he jumped to the ground and ran with pathetic eagerness to meet her. They embraced each other while the soldiers and public looked on in sympathetic understanding. Scarcely one of them but had heard of their princess’ latest abduction with sorrow almost as keen as her father’s, for she was dearly beloved by all.
A lump rose in Robert’s throat as he noted their touching reunion. Could he—should he—pluck this Martian flower from her kin and country, to take her back with him to a strange world? Once more he wondered whether he could hope to make her happy—to make her forget. He feared not, and his heart was heavy with the realization that he must give her up—that an attempt to transplant her would prove a sad failure. Rather than see her pine away in a strange world he would go back alone, even though it broke his own heart. He turned to greet Professor Palmer as that big-hearted and lovable man swung down off his steed and rushed upon him with open arms. Truly, here was such a friend and companion as few men ever were blessed with.
“Lad, lad, it is good to see you again!” And he hugged Robert with such fervor that it was with difficulty he managed to return his greetings and assure him that he was, indeed, quite safe, and delighted to be back.
Hakon was even more effusive in his greeting. Leading his daughter by the hand, he approached Robert almost humbly, albeit with an unconscious dignity—the inevitable bearing of one born to rule.
“You have brought back my greatest treasure to me, sir; and victory, too. Nothing you may ask of me is too great a reward.”
“I but shared in the glorious triumph of your brave men, sire,” Robert answered.
The ruler made an imperious gesture born of habit.