The

pirate's hissing, "Die, cursed thern," was half choked in his

windpipe by my clutching fingers. The hammer fell with a futile

click upon an empty chamber.

Before he could fire again I had pulled him so far over the edge

of the deck that he was forced to drop his firearm and clutch the

rail with both hands.

My grasp upon his throat effectually prevented any outcry, and so

we struggled in grim silence; he to tear away from my hold, I to

drag him over to his death.

His face was taking on a livid hue, his eyes were bulging from

their sockets. It was evident to him that he soon must die unless

he tore loose from the steel fingers that were choking the life

from him. With a final effort he threw himself further back upon

the deck, at the same instant releasing his hold upon the rail to

tear frantically with both hands at my fingers in an effort to drag

them from his throat.

That little second was all that I awaited. With one mighty downward

surge I swept him clear of the deck. His falling body came near

to tearing me from the frail hold that my single free hand had upon

the anchor chain and plunging me with him to the waters of the sea

below.

I did not relinquish my grasp upon him, however, for I knew that

a single shriek from those lips as he hurtled to his death in the

silent waters of the sea would bring his comrades from above to

avenge him.

Instead I held grimly to him, choking, ever choking, while his

frantic struggles dragged me lower and lower toward the end of the

chain.

Gradually his contortions became spasmodic, lessening by degrees

until they ceased entirely. Then I released my hold upon him and

in an instant he was swallowed by the black shadows far below.

Again I climbed to the ship's rail. This time I succeeded

in raising my eyes to the level of the deck, where I could take a

careful survey of the conditions immediately confronting me.

The nearer moon had passed below the horizon, but the clear effulgence

of the further satellite bathed the deck of the cruiser, bringing

into sharp relief the bodies of six or eight black men sprawled

about in sleep.

Huddled close to the base of a rapid fire gun was a young white

girl, securely bound. Her eyes were widespread in an expression

of horrified anticipation and fixed directly upon me as I came in

sight above the edge of the deck.

Unutterable relief instantly filled them as they fell upon the

mystic jewel which sparkled in the centre of my stolen headpiece.

She did not speak. Instead her eyes warned me to beware the sleeping

figures that surrounded her.

Noiselessly I gained the deck. The girl nodded to me to approach

her. As I bent low she whispered to me to release her.

"I can aid you," she said, "and you will need all the aid available

when they awaken."

"Some of them will awake in Korus," I replied smiling.

She caught the meaning of my words, and the cruelty of her

answering smile horrified me. One is not astonished by cruelty

in a hideous face, but when it touches the features of a goddess

whose fine-chiselled lineaments might more fittingly portray love

and beauty, the contrast is appalling.

Quickly I released her.

"Give me a revolver," she whispered. "I can use that upon those

your sword does not silence in time."

I did as she bid. Then I turned toward the distasteful work that

lay before me. This was no time for fine compunctions, nor for

a chivalry that these cruel demons would neither appreciate nor

reciprocate.

Stealthily I approached the nearest sleeper. When he awoke he was

well on his journey to the bosom of Korus. His piercing shriek as

consciousness returned to him came faintly up to us from the black

depths beneath.

The second awoke as I touched him, and, though I succeeded in

hurling him from the cruiser's deck, his wild cry of alarm brought

the remaining pirates to their feet. There were five of them.

As they arose the girl's revolver spoke in sharp staccato and one

sank back to the deck again to rise no more.

The others rushed madly upon me with drawn swords. The girl

evidently dared not fire for fear of wounding me, but I saw her

sneak stealthily and cat-like toward the flank of the attackers.

Then they were on me.

For a few minutes I experienced some of the hottest fighting I had

ever passed through. The quarters were too small for foot work.

It was stand your ground and give and take. At first I took

considerably more than I gave, but presently I got beneath one

fellow's guard and had the satisfaction of seeing him collapse upon

the deck.

The others redoubled their efforts. The crashing of their blades

upon mine raised a terrific din that might have been heard for

miles through the silent night. Sparks flew as steel smote steel,

and then there was the dull and sickening sound of a shoulder bone

parting beneath the keen edge of my Martian sword.

Three now faced me, but the girl was working her way to a point

that would soon permit her to reduce the number by one at least.

Then things happened with such amazing rapidity that I can scarce

comprehend even now all that took place in that brief instant.

The three rushed me with the evident purpose of forcing me back

the few steps that would carry my body over the rail into the void

below. At the same instant the girl fired and my sword arm made

two moves. One man dropped with a bullet in his brain; a sword

flew clattering across the deck and dropped over the edge beyond

as I disarmed one of my opponents and the third went down with my

blade buried to the hilt in his breast and three feet of it protruding

from his back, and falling wrenched the sword from my grasp.

Disarmed myself, I now faced my remaining foeman, whose own sword

lay somewhere thousands of feet below us, lost in the Lost Sea.

The new conditions seemed to please my adversary, for a smile of

satisfaction bared his gleaming teeth as he rushed at me bare-handed.

The great muscles which rolled beneath his glossy black hide

evidently assured him that here was easy prey, not worth the trouble

of drawing the dagger from his harness.

I let him come almost upon me. Then I ducked beneath his outstretched

arms, at the same time sidestepping to the right. Pivoting on my

left toe, I swung a terrific right to his jaw, and, like a felled

ox, he dropped in his tracks.

A low, silvery laugh rang out behind me.

"You are no thern," said the sweet voice of my companion, "for

all your golden locks or the harness of Sator Throg. Never lived

there upon all Barsoom before one who could fight as you have fought

this night. Who are you?"

"I am John Carter, Prince of the House of Tardos Mors, Jeddak of

Helium," I replied.