Through half-closed eyes Tara of Helium watched the warriors marching up the broad avenue, trying to imagine them the fighting men of her beloved Helium coming to the rescue of their princess.  That splendid figure upon the great thoat might be John Carter, himself, Warlord of Barsoom, and behind him utan after utan of the veterans of the empire, and then the girl opened her eyes again and saw the host of painted, befeathered barbarians, and sighed.  But yet she watched, fascinated by the martial scene, and now she noted again the groups of silent figures upon the balconies.  No waving silks; no cries of welcome; no showers of flowers and jewels such as would have marked the entry of such a splendid, friendly pageant into the twin cities of her birth.

“The people do not seem friendly to the warriors of Manatos,” she remarked to Lan-O; “I have not seen a single welcoming sign from the people on the balconies.”

The slave girl looked at her in surprise.  “It cannot be that you do not know!” she exclaimed.  “Why, they are—­” but she got no further.  The door swung open and an officer stood before them.

“The slave girl, Tara, is summoned to the presence of O-Tar, the jeddak!” he announced.

CHAPTER XIV

AT GHEK’S COMMAND

Turan the panthan chafed in his chains.  Time dragged; silence and monotony prolonged minutes into hours.  Uncertainty of the fate of the woman he loved turned each hour into an eternity of hell.  He listened impatiently for the sound of approaching footsteps that he might see and speak to some living creature and learn, perchance, some word of Tara of Helium.  After torturing hours his ears were rewarded by the rattle of harness and arms.  Men were coming!  He waited breathlessly.  Perhaps they were his executioners; but he would welcome them notwithstanding.  He would question them.  But if they knew naught of Tara he would not divulge the location of the hiding place in which he had left her.

Now they came—­a half-dozen warriors and an officer, escorting an unarmed man; a prisoner, doubtless.  Of this Turan was not left long in doubt, since they brought the newcomer and chained him to an adjoining ring.  Immediately the panthan commenced to question the officer in charge of the guard.

“Tell me,” he demanded, “why I have been made prisoner, and if other strangers were captured since I entered your city.”

“What other prisoners?” asked the officer.

“A woman, and a man with a strange head,” replied Turan.

“It is possible,” said the officer; “but what were their names?”

“The woman was Tara, Princess of Helium, and the man was Ghek, a kaldane, of Bantoom.”

“These were your friends?” asked the officer.

“Yes,” replied Turan.

“It is what I would know,” said the officer, and with a curt command to his men to follow him he turned and left the cell.