As Gahan’s thoat bore him to the third Level the man glimpsed the hind quarters of another thoat disappearing at the turn of a corridor far ahead.  Urging his own animal forward he raced swiftly in pursuit and making the turn discovered only an empty corridor ahead.  Along this he hurried to discover near its farther end a runway to the fourth level, which he followed upward.  Here he saw that he had gained upon his quarry who was just turning through a doorway fifty yards ahead.  As Gahan reached the opening he saw that the warrior had dismounted and was dragging Tara toward a small door on the opposite side of the chamber.  At the same instant the clank of harness to his rear caused him to cast a glance behind where, along the corridor he had just traversed, he saw three warriors approaching on foot at a run.  Leaping from his thoat Gahan sprang into the chamber where Tara was struggling to free herself from the grasp of her captor, slammed the door behind him, shot the great bolt into its seat, and drawing his sword crossed the room at a run to engage the Manatorian.  The fellow, thus menaced, called aloud to Gahan to halt, at the same time thrusting Tara at arm’s length and threatening her heart with the point of his short-sword.

“Stay!” he cried, “or the woman dies, for such is the command of O-Tar, rather than that she again fall into your hands.”

Gahan stopped.  But a few feet separated him from Tara and her captor, yet he was helpless to aid her.  Slowly the warrior backed toward the open doorway behind him, dragging Tara with him.  The girl struggled and fought, but the warrior was a powerful man and having seized her by the harness from behind was able to hold her in a position of helplessness.

“Save me, Turan!” she cried.  “Let them not drag me to a fate worse than death.  Better that I die now while my eyes behold a brave friend than later, fighting alone among enemies in defense of my honor.”

He took a step nearer.  The warrior made a threatening gesture with his sword close to the soft, smooth skin of the princess, and Gahan halted.

“I cannot, Tara of Helium,” he cried.  “Think not ill of me that I am weak—­that I cannot see you die.  Too great is my love for you, daughter of Helium.”

The Manatorian warrior, a derisive grin upon his lips, backed steadily away.  He had almost reached the doorway when Gahan saw another warrior in the chamber toward which Tara was being borne—­a fellow who moved silently, almost stealthily, across the marble floor as he approached Tara’s captor from behind.  In his right hand he grasped a long-sword.

“Two to one,” thought Gahan, and a grim smile touched his lips, for he had no doubt that once they had Tara safely in the adjoining chamber the two would set upon him.  If he could not save her, he could at least die for her.