, and then towed the ships of
the First Born to the shaft, where we managed to wedge a number of them
securely in the interior of the great well. Then we turned on the
buoyance rays in the balance of them and let them rise by themselves to
further block the passage to Omean as they came into contact with the
vessels already lodged there.

We now felt that it would be some time at least before the returning
First Born could reach the surface of Omean, and that we would have
ample opportunity to make for the subterranean passages which lead to
Issus. One of the first steps I took was to hasten personally with a
good-sized force to the island of the submarine, which I took without
resistance on the part of the small guard there.

I found the submarine in its pool, and at once placed a strong guard
upon it and the island, where I remained to wait the coming of
Carthoris and the others.

Among the prisoners was Yersted, commander of the submarine. He
recognized me from the three trips that I had taken with him during my
captivity among the First Born.

"How does it seem," I asked him, "to have the tables turned? To be
prisoner of your erstwhile captive?"

He smiled, a very grim smile pregnant with hidden meaning.

"It will not be for long, John Carter," he replied. "We have been
expecting you and we are prepared."

"So it would appear," I answered, "for you were all ready to become my
prisoners with scarce a blow struck on either side."

"The fleet must have missed you," he said, "but it will return to
Omean, and then that will be a very different matter--for John Carter."

"I do not know that the fleet has missed me as yet," I said, but of
course he did not grasp my meaning, and only looked puzzled.

"Many prisoners travel to Issus in your grim craft, Yersted?" I asked.

"Very many," he assented.

"Might you remember one whom men called Dejah Thoris?"

"Well, indeed, for her great beauty, and then, too, for the fact that
she was wife to the first mortal that ever escaped from Issus through
all the countless ages of her godhood. And the way that Issus
remembers her best as the wife of one and the mother of another who
raised their hands against the Goddess of Life Eternal."

I shuddered for fear of the cowardly revenge that I knew Issus might
have taken upon the innocent Dejah Thoris for the sacrilege of her son
and her husband.

"And where is Dejah Thoris now?" I asked, knowing that he would say the