"
In a moment a dozen men broke through the now blinding smoke to
my side. There was Carthoris, and Kantos Kan, and Hor Vastus, and
Xodar, with a few more who had followed me to the temple court.
"There is no hope, John Carter," cried Xodar. "The keeper of the
keys is dead and his keys are not upon his carcass. Our only hope
is to quench this conflagration and trust to fate that a year will
find your Princess alive and well. I have brought sufficient food
to last them. When this crack closes no smoke can reach them, and
if we hasten to extinguish the flames I believe they will be safe."
"Go, then, yourself and take these others with you," I replied.
"I shall remain here beside my Princess until a merciful death
releases me from my anguish. I care not to live."
As I spoke Xodar had been tossing a great number of tiny cans
within the prison cell. The remaining crack was not over an inch
in width a moment later. Dejah Thoris stood as close to it as she
could, whispering words of hope and courage to me, and urging me
to save myself.
Suddenly beyond her I saw the beautiful face of Phaidor contorted
into an expression of malign hatred. As my eyes met hers she spoke.
"Think not, John Carter, that you may so lightly cast aside the
love of Phaidor, daughter of Matai Shang. Nor ever hope to hold
thy Dejah Thoris in thy arms again. Wait you the long, long year;
but know that when the waiting is over it shall be Phaidor's arms
which shall welcome you--not those of the Princess of Helium.
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