At times Ja-don’s forces pushed the defenders far into the palace ground and then the wave of combat would recede and pass out into the city again. And still Ta-den and the reinforcements did not come. It was drawing close to noon. Lu-don had mustered every available man that was not actually needed for the defense of the gate within the temple, and these he sent, under the leadership of Pan-sat, out into the city through the secret passageway and there they fell upon Ja-don’s forces from the rear while those at the gate hammered them in front.
Attacked on two sides by a vastly superior force the result was inevitable and finally the last remnant of Ja-don’s little army capitulated and the old chief was taken a prisoner before Lu-don. “Take him to the temple court,” cried the high priest. “He shall witness the death of his accomplice and perhaps Jad-ben-Otho shall pass a similar sentence upon him as well.”
The inner temple court was packed with humanity. At either end of the western altar stood Tarzan and his mate, bound and helpless. The sounds of battle had ceased and presently the ape-man saw Ja-don being led into the inner court, his wrists bound tightly together before him. Tarzan turned his eyes toward Jane and nodded in the direction of Ja-don. “This looks like the end,” he said quietly. “He was our last and only hope.”
“We have at least found each other, John,” she replied, “and our last days have been spent together. My only prayer now is that if they take you they do not leave me.”
Tarzan made no reply for in his heart was the same bitter thought that her own contained—not the fear that they would kill him but the fear that they would not kill her. The ape-man strained at his bonds but they were too many and too strong. A priest near him saw and with a jeering laugh struck the defenseless ape-man in the face.
“The brute!” cried Jane Clayton.
Tarzan smiled. “I have been struck thus before, Jane,” he said, “and always has the striker died.”
“You still have hope?” she asked.
“I am still alive,” he said as though that were sufficient answer. She was a woman and she did not have the courage of this man who knew no fear. In her heart of hearts she knew that he would die upon the altar at high noon for he had told her, after he had been brought to the inner court, of the sentence of death that Obergatz had pronounced upon him, and she knew too that Tarzan knew that he would die, but that he was too courageous to admit it even to himself.
As she looked upon him standing there so straight and wonderful and brave among his savage captors her heart cried out against the cruelty of the fate that had overtaken him. It seemed a gross and hideous wrong that that wonderful creature, now so quick with exuberant life and strength and purpose should be presently naught but a bleeding lump of clay—and all so uselessly and wantonly. Gladly would she have offered her life for his but she knew that it was a waste of words since their captors would work upon them whatever it was their will to do—for him, death; for her—she shuddered at the thought.
And now came Lu-don and the naked Obergatz, and the high priest led the German to his place behind the altar, himself standing upon the other’s left. Lu-don whispered a word to Obergatz, at the same time nodding in the direction of Ja-don. The Hun cast a scowling look upon the old warrior.
“And after the false god,” he cried, “the false prophet,” and he pointed an accusing finger at Ja-don. Then his eyes wandered to the form of Jane Clayton.
“And the woman, too?” asked Lu-don.
“The case of the woman I will attend to later,” replied Obergatz. “I will talk with her tonight after she has had a chance to meditate upon the consequences of arousing the wrath of Jad-ben-Otho.”
He cast his eyes upward at the sun. “The time approaches,” he said to Lu-don. “Prepare the sacrifice.”
Lu-don nodded to the priests who were gathered about Tarzan. They seized the ape-man and lifted him bodily to the altar where they laid him upon his back with his head at the south end of the monolith, but a few feet from where Jane Clayton stood. Impulsively and before they could restrain her the woman rushed forward and bending quickly kissed her mate upon the forehead. “Goodbye, John,” she whispered.
“Goodbye,” he answered, smiling.
The priests seized her and dragged her away. Lu-don handed the sacrificial knife to Obergatz. “I am the Great God,” cried the German, “thus falleth the divine wrath upon all my enemies!” He looked up at the sun and then raised the knife high above his head.
“Thus die the blasphemers of God!” he screamed, and at the same instant a sharp staccato note rang out above the silent, spellbound multitude. There was a screaming whistle in the air and Jad-ben-Otho crumpled forward across the body of his intended victim. Again the same alarming noise and Lu-don fell, a third and Mo-sar crumpled to the ground. And now the warriors and the people, locating the direction of this new and unknown sound turned toward the western end of the court.
Upon the summit of the temple wall they saw two figures—a Ho-don warrior and beside him an almost naked creature of the race of Tarzan-jad-guru, across his shoulders and about his hips were strange broad belts studded with beautiful cylinders that glinted in the midday sun, and in his hands a shining thing of wood and metal from the end of which rose a thin wreath of blue-gray smoke.
And
