He stooped and kissed the women of his family, and laid his strong hand

upon the shoulders of the men.

As I turned sadly from him my eyes fell upon Dejah Thoris. Her head

was drooping upon her breast, to all appearances she was lifeless.

With a cry I sprang to her and raised her in my arms.

Her eyes opened and looked into mine.

"Kiss me, John Carter," she murmured. "I love you! I love you! It is

cruel that we must be torn apart who were just starting upon a life of

love and happiness."

As I pressed her dear lips to mine the old feeling of unconquerable

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power and authority rose in me. The fighting blood of Virginia sprang

to life in my veins.

"It shall not be, my princess," I cried. "There is, there must be some

way, and John Carter, who has fought his way through a strange world

for love of you, will find it."

And with my words there crept above the threshold of my conscious mind

a series of nine long forgotten sounds. Like a flash of lightning in

the darkness their full purport dawned upon me--the key to the three

great doors of the atmosphere plant!

Turning suddenly toward Tardos Mors as I still clasped my dying love to

my breast I cried.

"A flier, Jeddak! Quick! Order your swiftest flier to the palace top.

I can save Barsoom yet."

He did not wait to question, but in an instant a guard was racing to

the nearest dock and though the air was thin and almost gone at the

rooftop they managed to launch the fastest one-man, air-scout machine

that the skill of Barsoom had ever produced.

Kissing Dejah Thoris a dozen times and commanding Woola, who would have

followed me, to remain and guard her, I bounded with my old agility and

strength to the high ramparts of the palace, and in another moment I

was headed toward the goal of the hopes of all Barsoom.

I had to fly low to get sufficient air to breathe, but I took a

straight course across an old sea bottom and so had to rise only a few

feet above the ground.

I traveled with awful velocity for my errand was a race against time

with death. The face of Dejah Thoris hung always before me. As I

turned for a last look as I left the palace garden I had seen her

stagger and sink upon the ground beside the little incubator. That she

had dropped into the last coma which would end in death, if the air

supply remained unreplenished, I well knew, and so, throwing caution to

the winds, I flung overboard everything but the engine and compass,

even to my ornaments, and lying on my belly along the deck with one

hand on the steering wheel and the other pushing the speed lever to its

last notch I split the thin air of dying Mars with the speed of a

meteor.




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