“It was naught,” exclaimed O-Tar.  “I searched the chambers carefully and waited in hiding for the return of the slave, Turan, if he were temporarily away; but he came not.  He is not there and I doubt if he ever goes there.  Few men would choose to remain long in such a dismal place.”

“You were not attacked?” asked E-Thas.  “You heard no screams, nor moans?”

“I heard hideous noises and saw phantom figures; but they fled before me so that never could I lay hold of one, and I looked upon the face of O-Mai and I am not mad.  I even rested in the chamber beside his corpse.”

In a far corner of the room a bent and wrinkled old man hid a smile behind a golden goblet of strong brew.

“Come!  Let us drink!” cried O-Tar and reached for the dagger, the pommel of which he was accustomed to use to strike the gong which summoned slaves, but the dagger was not in its scabbard.  O-Tar was puzzled.  He knew that it had been there just before he entered the chamber of O-Mai, for he had carefully felt of all his weapons to make sure that none was missing.  He seized instead a table utensil and struck the gong, and when the slaves came bade them bring the strongest brew for O-Tar and his chiefs.  Before the dawn broke many were the expressions of admiration bellowed from drunken lips—­admiration for the courage of their jeddak; but some there were who still looked glum.

* * * * *

Came at last the day that O-Tar would take the Princess Tara of Helium to wife.  For hours slaves prepared the unwilling bride.  Seven perfumed baths occupied three long and weary hours, then her whole body was anointed with the oil of pimalia blossoms and massaged by the deft fingers of a slave from distant Dusar.  Her harness, all new and wrought for the occasion was of the white hide of the great white apes of Barsoom, hung heavily with platinum and diamonds—­fairly encrusted with them.  The glossy mass of her jet hair had been built into a coiffure of stately and becoming grandeur, into which diamond-headed pins were stuck until the whole scintillated as the stars in heaven upon a moonless night.

But it was a sullen and defiant bride that they led from the high tower toward the throne room of O-Tar.  The corridors were filled with slaves and warriors, and the women of the palace and the city who had been commanded to attend the ceremony.  All the power and pride, wealth and beauty of Manator were there.

Slowly Tara, surrounded by a heavy guard of honor, moved along the marble corridors filled with people.  At the entrance to The Hall of Chiefs E-Thas, the major-domo, received her.  The Hall was empty except for its ranks of dead chieftains upon their dead mounts.  Through this long chamber E-Thas escorted her to the throne room which also was empty, the marriage ceremony in Manator differing from that of other countries of Barsoom.  Here the bride would await the groom at the foot of the steps leading to the throne.  The guests followed her in and took their places, leaving the central aisle from The Hall of Chiefs to the throne clear, for up this O-Tar would approach his bride alone after a short solitary communion with the dead behind closed doors in The Hall of Chiefs.  It was the custom.