* * * * *
I went to my room, but only long enough to procure weapons; then I returned to the garage. As I stepped into my car I offered a prayer of thanks that the motors of Havatoo are silent. Like a wraith the car slipped out of the garage into the night, and as I passed the house I whispered a silent good-by to Ero Shan.
Approaching the house of Hara Es I felt the first qualm of nervousness that had assailed me during this adventure, but the house seemed quite deserted as I entered it and ran up the stairs to the second floor.
Unlocking the door of the room in which I had left Duare and Hara Es I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw them both there. I crossed quickly to the couch and examined Hara Es's bonds. They appeared quite secure.
'Come!' I said to Duare. 'We have no time to waste.'
She followed me out of the room. I locked the door on Hara Es, found another sarong for Duare in a room on the first floor, and a moment later Duare and I were in my car.
'Where are we going?' she asked. 'We cannot hide in Havatoo. They will find us.'
'We are going to leave Havatoo forever,' I replied, and just then I saw a car pass us and draw up in front of the house we had left. Two men were in it; one of them jumped out and ran to the door; then I opened the throttle. I had seen enough to turn me cold with apprehension.
Duare had seen, too. 'Now they will discover everything,' she said, 'and you will be killed. I knew that it would end in disaster. Oh, why didn't you let me die alone? I want to die.'
'But I won't let you!'
She said nothing more, and we sped through the now almost deserted streets of Havatoo toward the Kantum Lat. and the Gate of the Physicists.
We had gone about two miles of the three that we must cover before we reached our destination when I heard an ominous sound such as I had never before heard in Havatoo. It sounded like the wailing of sirens such as are used on police cars in the large cities of America . Instantly I knew that it was an alarm, and I guessed that the man who had entered the house of Hara Es had discovered her and that our escape was known.
Closer and closer came the sounds of the wailing sirens as I drew up before the hangar where my plane stood; they seemed to be converging upon us from all directions. I was not surprised that they should have guessed where they would find us, for it would have been obvious to even duller minds than those of Havatoo that here lay my only chance to escape.
Fairly dragging Duare with me, I leaped from the car and ran into the hangar. The great doors, operated by mechanical means, rolled open at the touch of a button. I lifted Duare into the cockpit. She asked no questions; there was no time for questions.
Then I took my place at her side. I had designed the plane for training purposes; and it had two seats, each accommodating two people. I started the motor—and such a motor! Silent, vibrationless, and it required no warming up.
I taxied out into the Kantum Lat. The sirens were very close now. I saw the lights of cars bearing down upon us. As I started toward the Gate of the Physicists I heard the staccato hum of Amtorian rifles behind us. They were firing at us!
I nosed up; the wheels left the ground; the great gate loomed directly ahead. Up! Faster! Faster! I held my breath. Would we make it? Responding perfectly, the light ship climbed almost vertically in the last few seconds; she sped over the top of the lofty gate with only inches to spare. We were safe!
Far below, the lights of Havatoo lay behind us as I turned the ship's nose toward the shimmering ribbon that was the River of Death —the River of Life to us—that was to guide us down to that unknown sea where, I was confident, we would find Vepaja.
Duare had not spoken. I felt her arm against mine trembling. I reached over and laid a hand upon it. 'Why are you trembling?' I asked. 'You are quite safe now.'
'What is this thing we are in?' she asked. 'Why does it not fall to the ground and kill us? What keeps it up?'
I explained as best I could, telling her that there was no danger that it would fall; and then she drew a deep, long sigh of relief.
'If you say that we are safe; then I am afraid no longer,' she said. 'But tell me, why are you making this sacrifice for me?'
'What sacrifice?' I asked.
'You can never return to Havatoo now; they would kill you.'
'I do not want to return to Havatoo if you cannot live there in safety,' I replied.
'But what of Nalte?' she asked. 'You love one another, and now you can never see her again.'
'I do not love Nalte, nor does she love me. I love only you, Duare; and Nalte and Ero Shan love one another. We are on our way to Vepaja; I would rather take my chances of winning you there than live a Sanjong in Havatoo without you.'
She sat in silence for a long time; then, presently, she turned and looked up into my face. ' Carson !' she said in a low voice.
Yes, Duare, what is it?'
'I love you!'
I could not believe that I had heard right. 'But, Duare, you are the daughter of a jong of Vepaja!' I exclaimed.
'That I have known always,' she said, 'but I have just learned that above all things else I am a woman.'
I took her in my arms then. I could have held her thus forever, as our marvelous plane raced onwards toward Vepaja and home.
THE END
