She was the perfect type of that remarkably beautiful race whose
outward appearance is identical with the more god-like races of
Earth men, except that this higher race of Martians is of a light
reddish copper colour. As she was entirely unadorned I could not
even guess her station in life, though it was evident that she was
either a prisoner or slave in her present environment.
It was several seconds before the sounds upon the opposite side of
the partition jolted my slowly returning faculties into a realization
of their probable import, and then of a sudden I grasped the
fact that they were caused by Tars Tarkas in what was evidently a
desperate struggle with wild beasts or savage men.
With a cry of encouragement I threw my weight against the secret
door, but as well have assayed the down-hurling of the cliffs
themselves. Then I sought feverishly for the secret of the revolving
panel, but my search was fruitless, and I was about to raise my
longsword against the sullen gold when the young woman prisoner
called out to me.
"Save thy sword, O Mighty Warrior, for thou shalt need it more where
it will avail to some purpose--shatter it not against senseless
metal which yields better to the lightest finger touch of one who
knows its secret."
"Know you the secret of it then?" I asked.
"Yes; release me and I will give you entrance to the other horror
chamber, if you wish.
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