"No," she said, "I do not forget that you have been kind to me, but I remember that I am only an incident in your search for Sanoma Tora. Tomorrow, perhaps, you will be gone and we shall never see each other again." I had not thought of that and I found that I did not like to think about it, and yet I knew that it was true. "You will soon make friends here," I said. "I hope so," she replied; "but I have been gone a very long time and I was so young when I was taken away that I have but the faintest of memories of my life in Tjanath. Tjanath really means nothing to me. I could be as happy anywhere else in Barsoom with--with a friend." We were now close above the outer wall of the city and our conversation was interrupted by the appearance of a flier, evidently a patrol, bearing down upon us. She was sounding an alarm--the shrill screaming of her horn shattering the silence of the early morning. Almost immediately the warning was taken up by gongs and shrieking sirens throughout the city. The patrol boat changed her course and rose swiftly above us, while from landing stages all about rose scores of fighting planes until we were entirely surrounded. I tried to hail the nearer of them, but the infernal din of the warning signals drowned my voice. Hundreds of guns covered us, their crews standing ready to hurl destruction upon us. "Does Tjanath always receive visitors in this hostile manner?" I inquired of Tavia. She shook her head. "I do not know," she replied. "Had we approached in a strange ship of war, I might understand it; but why this little scout flier should attract half the navy of Tjanath is--Wait!" she exclaimed suddenly. "The design and color of our flier mark its origin as Jahar. The people of Tjanath have seen this color before and they fear it; yet if that is true, why is it that they have not fired upon us?" "I do not know why they did not fire upon us at first," I replied, "but it is obvious why they do not now. Their ships are so thick about us that they could not fire without endangering their own craft and men." "Can't you make them understand that we are friends?" she asked. Immediately I made the signs of friendship and of surrender, but the ships seemed afraid to approach. The alarms had ceased and the ships were circling silently about us. Again I hailed a nearby ship. "Do not fire," I shouted; "we are friends." "Friends do not come to Tjanath in the blue death ships of Jahar," replied an officer upon the deck of the ship I had hailed. "Let us come alongside," I insisted, "and at least I can prove to you that we are harmless." "You will not come alongside my ship," he replied. "If you are friends you can prove it by doing as I instruct you." "What are your wishes?" I asked. "Come about and take your flier beyond the city walls. Ground her at least a haad beyond the east gate and then, with your companion, walk toward the city." "Can you promise that we will be well received?" I asked.