I had naturally assumed that they would return with Tars Tarkas
the same way that they had come, which would have carried them away
from me; but, to my chagrin, they wheeled directly in my direction
as they left the room. There was nothing for me but to hasten on
in advance and keep out of the light of their torch. I dared not
attempt to halt in the darkness of any of the many intersecting
corridors, for I knew nothing of the direction they might take.
Chance was as likely as not to carry me into the very corridor they
might choose to enter.
The sensation of moving rapidly through these dark passages was far
from reassuring. I knew not at what moment I might plunge headlong
into some terrible pit or meet with some of the ghoulish creatures
that inhabit these lower worlds beneath the dead cities of dying
Mars. There filtered to me a faint radiance from the torch of the
men behind--just enough to permit me to trace the direction of the
winding passageways directly before me, and so keep me from dashing
myself against the walls at the turns.
Presently I came to a place where five corridors diverged from
a common point. I had hastened along one of them for some little
distance when suddenly the faint light of the torch disappeared
from behind me. I paused to listen for sounds of the party behind
me, but the silence was as utter as the silence of the tomb.
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