"No, no," she cried, "you must not say such terribly sacrilegious
things--you must not even think them. Should they ever guess that
you entertained such frightful thoughts, should we chance to regain
the temples of the therns, they would mete out a frightful death
to you. Not even my--my--" Again she flushed, and started over.
"Not even I could save you."
I said no more. Evidently it was useless. She was even more
steeped in superstition than the Martians of the outer world. They
only worshipped a beautiful hope for a life of love and peace and
happiness in the hereafter. The therns worshipped the hideous plant
men and the apes, or at least they reverenced them as the abodes
of the departed spirits of their own dead.
At this point the door of our prison opened to admit Xodar.
He smiled pleasantly at me, and when he smiled his expression was
kindly--anything but cruel or vindictive.
"Since you cannot escape under any circumstances," he said, "I
cannot see the necessity for keeping you confined below. I will
cut your bonds and you may come on deck. You will witness something
very interesting, and as you never shall return to the outer world
it will do no harm to permit you to see it. You will see what
no other than the First Born and their slaves know the existence
of--the subterranean entrance to the Holy Land, to the real heaven
of Barsoom.
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