"Yes," she replied, "but he does not know me for what I am, nor
does he know who betrayed my mother to Tal Hajus. I alone know my
father's name, and only I and Tal Hajus and Sarkoja know that it
was she who carried the tale that brought death and torture upon
her he loved."
We sat silent for a few moments, she wrapped in the gloomy thoughts
of her terrible past, and I in pity for the poor creatures whom the
heartless, senseless customs of their race had doomed to loveless
lives of cruelty and of hate. Presently she spoke.
"John Carter, if ever a real man walked the cold, dead bosom of
Barsoom you are one. I know that I can trust you, and because the
knowledge may someday help you or him or Dejah Thoris or myself,
I am going to tell you the name of my father, nor place any
restrictions or conditions upon your tongue. When the time comes,
speak the truth if it seems best to you. I trust you because I
know that you are not cursed with the terrible trait of absolute
and unswerving truthfulness, that you could lie like one of your
own Virginia gentlemen if a lie would save others from sorrow or
suffering. My father's name is Tars Tarkas."
CHAPTER XVI
WE PLAN ESCAPE
The remainder of our journey to Thark was uneventful.
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