Dramatic as was the moment it was suddenly rendered trebly so by
the noisy opening of the doors leading to The Hall of Chiefs. All
eyes turned in the direction of the interruption to see another
figure framed in the massive opening--a half-clad figure buckling
the half-adjusted harness hurriedly in place--the figure of
O-Tar, Jeddak of Manator.
"Stop!" he screamed, springing forward along the aisle toward the
throne. "Seize the impostor!"
All eyes shot to the figure of the groom before the throne. They
saw him raise his hand and snatch off the golden mask, and Tara
of Helium in wide-eyed incredulity looked up into the face of
Turan the panthan.
"Turan the slave," they cried then. "Death to him! Death to him!"
"Wait!" shouted Turan, drawing his sword, as a dozen warriors
leaped forward.
"Wait!" screamed another voice, old and cracked, as I-Gos, the
ancient taxidermist, sprang from among the guests and reached the
throne steps ahead of the foremost warriors.
At sight of the old man the warriors paused, for age is held in
great veneration among the peoples of Barsoom, as is true,
perhaps, of all peoples whose religion is based to any extent
upon ancestor worship.
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