What words of moment were to have fallen from his lips were never
spoken, as just then a young warrior, evidently sensing the trend
of thought among the older men, leaped down from the steps of the
rostrum, and striking the frail captive a powerful blow across
the face, which felled her to the floor, placed his foot upon her
prostrate form and turning toward the assembled council broke into
peals of horrid, mirthless laughter.
For an instant I thought Tars Tarkas would strike him dead, nor did
the aspect of Lorquas Ptomel augur any too favorably for the brute,
but the mood passed, their old selves reasserted their ascendency,
and they smiled. It was portentous however that they did not laugh
aloud, for the brute's act constituted a side-splitting witticism
according to the ethics which rule green Martian humor.
That I have taken moments to write down a part of what occurred as
that blow fell does not signify that I remained inactive for any
such length of time. I think I must have sensed something of what
was coming, for I realize now that I was crouched as for a spring as
I saw the blow aimed at her beautiful, upturned, pleading face, and
ere the hand descended I was halfway across the hall.
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