Returning to the Royal Dome they passed around the east side of the structure to the north front, where lies the Slaves’ Corridor in every dome. In quitting the dome they had come from the Warriors’ Corridor on the west and they felt that it would be but increasing the chances of detection were they to pass too often along the same route where someone, half recognizing them in one instance, might do so fully after a second or third inspection.
To reach the fifth level required but a few minutes after they had gained entrance to the dome. With every appearance of boldness they made their way toward the point in the central corridor at which the officer of the guard had told them they would find Kalfastoban’s quarters, and perhaps Kalfastoban himself; but they were constantly on the alert, for both recognized that the greatest danger of detection lay through the chance that Kalfastoban might recall their features, as he of all Veltopismakusians would be most apt to do so, since he had seen the most of them, or at least the most of Tarzan since he had donned the slave’s green.
They had reached a point about midway between the Slaves’ Corridor and the Warriors’ Corridor when Komodoflorensal halted a young, female slave and asked her where the quarters of Kalfastoban were located.
“It is necessary to pass through the quarters of Hamadalban to reach those of Kalfastoban,” replied the girl. “Go to the third entrance,” and she pointed along the corridor in the direction they had been going.
After they had left her Tarzan asked Komodoflorensal if he thought there would be any difficulty in gaining entrance to Kalfastoban’s quarters.
“No,” he replied; “the trouble will arise in knowing what to do after we get there.”
“We know what we have come for,” replied the ape-man. “It is only necessary to carry out our design, removing all obstacles as they intervene.”
“Quite simple,” laughed the prince.
Tarzan was forced to smile. “To be candid,” he admitted, “I haven’t the remotest idea what we are going to do after we get in there, or after we get out either, if we are successful in finding Talaskar and bringing her away with us, but that is not strange, since I know nothing, or practically nothing, of what conditions I may expect to confront me from moment to moment in this strange city of a strange world. All that we can do is to do our best. We have come thus far much more easily than I expected—perhaps we will go the whole distance with no greater friction—or we may stop within the next dozen steps, forever.”
Pausing before the third entrance they glanced in, discovering several women squatting upon the floor. Two of them were of the warrior class, the others slaves of the white tunic. Komodoflorensal entered boldly.
“These are the quarters of Hamadalban?” he asked.
“They are,” replied one of the women.
“And Kalfastoban’s are beyond?”
“Yes.”
“And beyond Kalfastoban’s?” inquired the Trohanadalmakusian.
“A long gallery leads to the outer corridor. Upon this gallery open many chambers where live hundreds of people. I do not know them all. Whom do you seek?”
“Palastokar,” replied Komodoflorensal quickly, choosing the first name that presented itself to his memory.
“I do not recall the name,” said the woman, knitting her brows in thought.
“But I shall find him now, thanks to you,” said Komodoflorensal, “for my directions were to pass through the quarters of Hamadalban and Kalfastoban, when I should come upon a gallery into which opened the quarters of Palastokar; but perhaps if Kalfastoban is in, he will be able to direct me more exactly.”
“Kalfastoban has gone out with Hamadalban,” replied the woman; “but I expect them back momentarily. If you will wait, they will soon be here.”
“Thank you,” said Komodoflorensal, hastily; “but I am sure that we shall have no trouble finding the quarters of Palastokar. May your candles burn long and brilliantly!” and without waiting on further ceremony he crossed the room and entered the quarters of Kalfastoban, into which Tarzan of the Apes followed at his heels.
“I think, my friend,” said the prince, “that we shall have to work rapidly.”
Tarzan glanced quickly around the first chamber that they entered. It was vacant. Several doors opened from it. They were all closed either with wooden doors or with hangings. The ape-man stepped quickly to the nearer and tried the latch. It gave and he pushed the door ajar. All was darkness within.
“Bring a candle, Komodoflorensal,” he said.
The prince brought two from their niches in the wall. “A storeroom,” he said, as the rays of the candles illuminated the interior of the room. “Food and candles and raiment. Kalfastoban is no pauper. The tax collector has not ruined him yet.”
Tarzan, standing in the doorway of the storeroom, just behind Komodoflorensal, turned suddenly and looked out across the other chamber. He had heard voices in the quarters of Hamadalban beyond—men’s voices. One of them he recognized an instant later—it was the voice of Kalfastoban Vental.
“Come!” roared the bull voice of the Vental. “Come to my quarters, Hamadalban, and I will show you this new slave of mine.”
Tarzan pushed Komodoflorensal into the storeroom and following him, closed the door. “Did you hear?” he whispered.
“Yes, it was Kalfastoban!”
The storeroom door was ornamented with a small, open grill covered with a hanging of some heavy stuff upon the inside. By drawing the hanging aside the two could obtain a view of most of the interior of the outer chamber, and they could hear all that was said by the two men who now entered from Hamadalban’s quarters.
“I tell you she is the greatest bargain I have ever seen,” cried Kalfastoban; “but wait, I’ll fetch her,” and he stepped to another door, which he unlocked with a key. “Come out!” he roared, flinging the door wide.
With the haughty bearing of a queen a girl stepped slowly into the larger room—no cowering servility of the slave here.
