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"I have been here many years," said the girl, Lan-O; "but never have I seen even
The Great Jed bring so many fighting men into the city of Manator."
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.
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