Already they were near enough to the surface to make out the clustered, blinking lights of the towns on the plain below.  Ahead of them queer streamers of pale rays thrust through the darkness.  Watson recognised them as the beams of the far-distant searchlights; and then and there he gave thanks for one thing, at least, in which the Thomahlians had seemingly progressed no further than the people of the earth.

Coming a little nearer, Chick made out a number of bright, glittering, insect-like objects, revealed by these searchlights.  The Jan Lucar said: 

“The Bars, my lord.  They are waiting; and they will head us off if they can.”

“The work of Senestro, I suppose.  I thought he claimed to some honour.”

“It is not the prince’s work, my lord,” replied the soldier.  “His D’Hartian and Kospian followers, some of them, have no scruples as to how they might slay the ‘false one’, as they think you.”

“Suppose,” hazarded Watson, “suppose I were the false one?”

Both the Geos and the Jan smiled.  But the Rhamda’s voice was very sure as he replied: 

“If you were false, my lord, I would slay you myself.”

They were very near the Mahovisal now.  Below was the unmistakable opalescence, somehow produced by powerful illumination, as intense as sunlight itself.  The red dot was almost above the black square on the lighted chart.  And directly ahead, the air was becoming alive with the beam-revealed aircraft.  How could they get by in safety?

But Chick did not know the Jan Lucar.  The soldier said: 

“My lord is not uneasy?”

“Of course not,” with unconcern.  “Why?”

“Because I propose something daring.  I am free to admit, my lord, that were the Geos and I alone, I should not attempt it.  But not even the Bars,” with magnificent confidence, “can stand before us now!  We have had the proof of the Jarados, and we know that no matter what the odds, he will carry us through.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I propose to shoot it, my lord.”  And without explaining the Jan asked the Geos:  “Are you agreeable?  The June Bug will hold; the prophet will protect us.”

“Surely,” returned the Rhamda.  “There is nothing to fear, now, for those who are in the company of the chosen.”

Watson wondering watched the Jan as he tilted the nose of the June Bug and began to climb at an all but perpendicular angle straight into the heavens.  Mile after mile, in less than as many minutes, they hurtled towards the zenith, so that the lights of the city dimmed until only the searching shafts could be seen.  Chick began to guess what they were going to do; that the Jan Lucar was nearly as reckless as he was handsome.

At last the soldier brought the craft to a level.  They soared along horizontally for a while; the Jan kept his eye fixed on the red dot.  And when it was directly above the black square he stated: