Close at my heel, in his now accustomed place, followed Woola, the
hound, and as I emerged upon the street Sola rushed up to me as
though I had been the object of some search on her part. The
cavalcade was returning to the plaza, the homeward march having been
given up for that day; nor, in fact, was it recommenced for more
than a week, owing to the fear of a return attack by the air craft.
Lorquas Ptomel was too astute an old warrior to be caught upon the
open plains with a caravan of chariots and children, and so we
remained at the deserted city until the danger seemed passed.
As Sola and I entered the plaza a sight met my eyes which filled my
whole being with a great surge of mingled hope, fear, exultation,
and depression, and yet most dominant was a subtle sense of relief
and happiness; for just as we neared the throng of Martians I caught
a glimpse of the prisoner from the battle craft who was being
roughly dragged into a nearby building by a couple of green Martian
females.
And the sight which met my eyes was that of a slender, girlish
figure, similar in every detail to the earthly women of my past
life. She did not see me at first, but just as she was disappearing
through the portal of the building which was to be her prison she
turned, and her eyes met mine.
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