Rapidly he outlined his plan to the others, who acquiesced at once. If their pursuers had already reached the palace they had not a moment to lose. The courtyard was yet closer.
Hakon was able to stand, though his wounds had left him pitifully weak. Dyarkon and the professor now assisted him while Robert hurried ahead to open the trap-door entrance into the Sphere.
As they emerged from the wall a loud outcry greeted them. Without stopping to ascertain its source they hurried toward the Sphere with all possible speed. Fortunately the trap operated readily, and a few seconds later they were all safely shut within.
The outcry was now explained. Into the courtyard from the palace poured a score of nobles with drawn sabers, shouting for them to stop.
Robert jerked the control over. The Sphere leapt from the ground with such sudden force that all except Robert and the staunch Dyarkon were thrown to the floor. A minute later they were soaring far above the heads of their late pursuers.
“Phew! Close shaves are getting to be our specialty,” exclaimed Robert, recovering his breath for the first time in many minutes. “Now for our observations and conference.”
He checked the Sphere’s ascent and turned to the others.
Zola was already busily binding her father’s wound. Professor Palmer had just brought her some water and a supply of bandages from the first-aid chest. Fortunately, though Hakon was weak from loss of blood, his wound was found not to be serious.
Hakon was staring intently groundward from his position by a window. Following his gaze, Robert saw a dense mob round the palace. Even at this height he could hear the Martians’ cries faintly. Evidently the rebel noblemen had succeeded well in working the masses up in revolt.
Sadly Hakon viewed the disorder below. It was now clear that it would not be safe for him to return.