«Tara of Helium, I love you!» he said.

The girl drew herself to her full height. «The Jed of Gathol forgets himself,» she exclaimed haughtily.

«The Jed of Gathol would forget everything but you, Tara of Helium,» he replied. Fiercely he pressed the soft hand that he still retained from the last position of the dance. «I love you, Tara of Helium,» he repeated. «Why should your ears refuse to hear what your eyes but just now did not refuse to see-and answer?»

«What meanest thou?» she cried. «Are the men of Gathol such boors, then?»

«They are neither boors nor fools,» he replied, quietly. «They know when they love a woman-and when she loves them.»

Tara of Helium stamped her little foot in anger. «Go!» she said, «before it is necessary to acquaint my father with the dishonor of his guest.»

She turned and walked away. «Wait!» cried the man. «Just another word.»

«Of apology?» she asked.

«Of prophecy,» he said.

«I do not care to hear it,» replied Tara of Helium, and left him standing there. She was strangely unstrung and shortly thereafter returned to her own quarter of the palace, where she stood for a long time by a window looking out beyond the scarlet tower of Greater Helium toward the northwest.

Presently she turned angrily away. «I hate him!» she exclaimed aloud.

«Whom?» inquired the privileged Uthia.

Tara of Helium stamped her foot. «That ill-mannered boor, the Jed of Gathol,» she replied.

Uthia raised her slim brows.

At the stamping of the little foot, a great beast rose from the corner of the room and crossed to Tara of Helium where it stood looking up into her face. She placed her hand upon the ugly head. «Dear old Woola,» she said; «no love could be deeper than yours, yet it never offends. Would that men might pattern themselves after you!»

Tara of Helium did not return to her father's guests, but awaited in her own apartments the word from Djor Kantos which she knew must come, begging her to return to the gardens. She would then refuse, haughtily. But no appeal came from Djor Kantos. At first Tara of Helium was angry, then she was hurt, and always she was puzzled. She could not understand. Occasionally she thought of the Jed of Gathol and then she would stamp her foot, for she was very angry indeed with Gahan. The presumption of the man! He had insinuated that he read love for him in her eyes. Never had she been so insulted and humiliated. Never had she so thoroughly hated a man. Suddenly she turned toward Uthia.

«My flying leather!» she commanded.

«But the guests!» exclaimed the slave girl. «Your father, The Warlord, will expect you to return.»

«He will be disappointed,» snapped Tara of Helium.

The slave hesitated. «He does not approve of your flying alone,» she reminded her mistress.

The young princess sprang to her feet and seized the unhappy slave by the shoulders, shaking her. «You are becoming unbearable, Uthia,» she cried. «Soon there will be no alternative than to send you to the public slave-market. Then possibly you will find a master to your liking.»

Tears came to the soft eyes of the slave girl. «It is because I love you, my princess,» she said softly. Tara of Helium melted. She took the slave in her arms and kissed her.

«I have the disposition of a thoat, Uthia,» she said. «Forgive me! I love you and there is nothing that I would not do for you and nothing would I do to harm you. Again, as I have so often in the past, I offer you your freedom.»

«I do not wish my freedom if it will separate me from you, Tara of Helium,» replied Uthia. «I am happy here with you-I think that I should die without you.»

Again the girls kissed. «And you will not fly alone, then?» questioned the slave.

Tara of Helium laughed and pinched her companion. «You persistent little pest,» she cried. «Of course I shall fly-does not Tara of Helium always do that which pleases her?»

Uthia shook her head sorrowfully. «Alas! she does,» she admitted. «Iron is the Warlord of Barsoom to the influences of all but two. In the hands of Dejah Thoris and Tara of Helium he is as potters' clay.»

«Then run and fetch my flying leather like the sweet slave you are,» directed the mistress.

* * * * *

Far out across the ochre sea-bottoms beyond the twin cities of Helium raced the swift flier of Tara of Helium. Thrilling to the speed and the buoyancy and the obedience of the little craft the girl drove toward the northwest. Why she should choose that direction she did not pause to consider. Perhaps because in that direction lay the least known areas of Barsoom, and, ergo, Romance, Mystery, and Adventure. In that direction also lay far Gathol; but to that fact she gave no conscious thought.

She did, however, think occasionally of the jed of that distant kingdom, but the reaction to these thoughts was scarcely pleasurable. They still brought a flush of shame to her cheeks and a surge of angry blood to her heart. She was very angry with the Jed of Gathol, and though she should never see him again she was quite sure that hate of him would remain fresh in her memory forever. Mostly her thoughts revolved about another-Djor Kantos. And when she thought of him she thought also of Olvia Marthis of Hastor. Tara of Helium thought that she was jealous of the fair Olvia and it made her very angry to think that. She was angry with Djor Kantos and herself, but she was not angry at all with Olvia Marthis, whom she loved, and so of course she was not jealous really. The trouble was, that Tara of Helium had failed for once to have her own way. Djor Kantos had not come running like a willing slave when she had expected him, and, ah, here was the nub of the whole thing! Gahan, Jed of Gathol, a stranger, had been a witness to her humiliation. He had seen her unclaimed at the beginning of a great function and he had had to come to her rescue to save her, as he doubtless thought, from the inglorious fate of a wall-flower. At the recurring thought, Tara of Helium could feel her whole body burning with scarlet shame and then she went suddenly white and cold with rage; whereupon she turned her flier about so abruptly that she was all but torn from her lashings upon the flat, narrow deck. She reached home just before dark. The guests had departed. Quiet had descended upon the palace. An hour later she joined her father and mother at the evening meal.

«You deserted us, Tara of Helium,» said John Carter. «It is not what the guests of John Carter should expect.»

«They did not come to see me,» replied Tara of Helium. «I did not ask them.»

«They were no less your guests,» replied her father.

The girl rose, and came and stood beside him and put her arms about his neck.

«My proper old Virginian,» she cried, rumpling his shock of black hair.

«In Virginia you would be turned over your father's knee and spanked,» said the man, smiling.

She crept into his lap and kissed him. «You do not love me any more,» she announced. «No one loves me,» but she could not compose her features into a pout because bubbling laughter insisted upon breaking through.

«The trouble is there are too many who love you,» he said. «And now there is another.»

«Indeed!» she cried. «What do you mean?»

«Gahan of Gathol has asked permission to woo you.»

The girl sat up very straight and tilted her chin in the air. «I would not wed with a walking diamond-mine,» she said. «I will not have him.»

«I told him as much,» replied her father, «and that you were as good as betrothed to another. He was very courteous about it; but at the same time he gave me to understand that he was accustomed to getting what he wanted and that he wanted you very much. I suppose it will mean another war. Your mother's beauty kept Helium at war for many years, and-well, Tara of Helium, if I were a young man I should doubtless be willing to set all Barsoom afire to win you, as I still would to keep your divine mother,» and he smiled across the sorapus table and its golden service at the undimmed beauty of Mars' most beautiful woman.