The return to the Sea of Omean was uneventful. We dropped down
the awful shaft in the same car that had brought us to the surface.
There we entered the submarine, taking the long dive to the tunnel
far beneath the upper world. Then through the tunnel and up again
to the pool from which we had had our first introduction to the
wonderful passageway from Omean to the Temple of Issus.
From the island of the submarine we were transported on a small
cruiser to the distant Isle of Shador. Here we found a small stone
prison and a guard of half a dozen blacks. There was no ceremony
wasted in completing our incarceration. One of the blacks opened
the door of the prison with a huge key, we walked in, the door
closed behind us, the lock grated, and with the sound there swept
over me again that terrible feeling of hopelessness that I had felt
in the Chamber of Mystery in the Golden Cliffs beneath the gardens
of the Holy Therns.
Then Tars Tarkas had been with me, but now I was utterly alone in
so far as friendly companionship was concerned. I fell to wondering
about the fate of the great Thark, and of his beautiful companion,
the girl, Thuvia. Even should they by some miracle have escaped
and been received and spared by a friendly nation, what hope had I
of the succour which I knew they would gladly extend if it lay in
their power.
They could not guess my whereabouts or my fate, for none on all
Barsoom even dream of such a place as this.
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