For some time they stood upon the roof beneath the brilliant stars and hurtling moons of dying Mars, laying their plans against the time that Tara of Helium should be brought from the high tower to the throne room of O-Tar.  It was then, and then alone, argued I-Gos, that any hope of rescuing her might be entertained.  Just how far he might trust the other Gahan did not know, and so he kept to himself the knowledge of the plan that he had forwarded to Floran and Val Dor by Ghek, but he assured the ancient taxidermist that if he were sincere in his oft-repeated declaration that O-Tar should be denounced and superseded he would have his opportunity on the night that the jeddak sought to wed the Heliumetic princess.

“Your time shall come then, I-Gos,” Gahan assured the other, “and if you have any party that thinks as you do, prepare them for the eventuality that will succeed O-Tar’s presumptuous attempt to wed the daughter of The Warlord.  Where shall I see you again, and when?  I go now to speak with Tara, Princess of Helium.”

“I like your boldness,” said I-Gos; “but it will avail you naught.  You will not speak with Tara, Princess of Helium, though doubtless the blood of many Manatorians will drench the floors of the women’s quarters before you are slain.”

Gahan smiled.  “I shall not be slain.  Where and when shall we meet?  But you may find me in O-Mai’s chamber at night.  That seems the safest retreat in all Manator for an enemy of the jeddak in whose palace it lies.  I go!”

“And may the spirits of your ancestors surround you,” said I-Gos.

After the old man had left him Gahan made his way across the roof to the high tower, which appeared to have been constructed of concrete and afterward elaborately carved, its entire surface being covered with intricate designs cut deep into the stone-like material of which it was composed.  Though wrought ages since, it was but little weather-worn owing to the aridity of the Martian atmosphere, the infrequency of rains, and the rarity of dust storms.  To scale it, though, presented difficulties and danger that might have deterred the bravest of men—­that would, doubtless, have deterred Gahan, had he not felt that the life of the woman he loved depended upon his accomplishing the hazardous feat.

Removing his sandals and laying aside all of his harness and weapons other than a single belt supporting a dagger, the Gatholian essayed the dangerous ascent.  Clinging to the carvings with hands and feet he worked himself slowly aloft, avoiding the windows and keeping upon the shadowy side of the tower, away from the light of Thuria and Cluros.  The tower rose some fifty feet above the roof of the adjacent part of the palace, comprising five levels or floors with windows looking in every direction.  A few of the windows were balconied, and these more than the others he sought to avoid, although, it being now near the close of the ninth zode, there was little likelihood that many were awake within the tower.