Extraterrestrial beings -- Fiction; Science fiction, English; Space flight to Mars -- Fiction
The sun was slowly setting, blazing in a hundred hues through the
many-coloured windows, and filling the great Hall with a mellow glory,
as we were conducted back to our chamber, surrounded by an escort of
twenty troopers. Kaosp led the way; we could see that his heart was
heavy, and that he sympathised with us in our great trouble. We were
weak and faint from want of food. The reaction had come after the
excitement of the day, and not one of us spoke to the other as we
walked along with drooping heads and faltering steps. It was a great
relief to escape from the noisy multitude and find quietness in our own
chamber, where, left alone in our sorrow, and as dying men, we could
rest and be in peace. There seemed no mercy whatever for us; not the
remotest chance of escape from the horrid doom to which we had been
condemned. Suicide, it is true, was left, as our revolvers were still
hidden in our pockets; for it was a remarkable fact that no one had
shown any desire to search us since we had been made prisoners, and we
were still unwatched. And yet each one in secret still hoped to escape
even now, though he dared not to breathe his thoughts to the rest.
Had we not three days! What could we not do in them? Oh! hope, when
does man really abandon thee? Only with life. Not even the rejected
lover, the ruined gambler, or the man who faces certain death--to the
last we all of us cling tightly to thee, Pandora's priceless gift to
trouble-burdened Man!
Food was brought to us almost immediately; and we were glad to see that
Kaosp continued at his post, as commander of the guard.
"Be ye of stout heart, O men of Ramos. Be not so cast down at
misfortune! Death is the portion of us all; and mark ye, the King may
yet relent his anger, if he doth but see Perodii's perfidy before three
more suns have set," said Kaosp cheerfully, as he shook us by the hand
and went his way.
"I am afraid, Doctor, you must feel very bitterly against me," said
Graham, as we sadly ate our meal. "Both you and Temple must blame me
for all this misfortune. I have no regrets for myself, but it is sore
grief indeed to see you fall with me."
"Regrets are useless now, Graham," said Temple. "Besides, I did all I
could to further your suit with Volinè, for I believed it wise to do
so; I do not blame or reproach you. But we must escape! When, or how, I
know not; but, Graham, we must escape."
"Ah! all very well to say that, Mr. Temple, but we are too well
guarded, and too closely watched. We had best sleep on the matter now,
and consult together in the morning, when we are more refreshed."
"Graham," said the Doctor, who from the moment the King had pronounced
our doom had not spoken, "Graham, if we, by any remote possibility,
escape from this peril, take my advice on one thing--leave the women
alone for the future. I am older than you, have had more experience,
and have invariably found that they are the root of all mischief."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account