“It is arranged,” he said. “They will permit us to hide our ship beneath these trees and they will permit us to pass out again when we are ready and board her, nor will they harm us in any way. All they ask is that when we are through we shall leave the gate open that leads to the inner court.” “Do they understand that while an ape goes in with us none will return with us?” I asked. “Yes; but they will not harm us.” “Why do they wish the gate left open?” “Do not inquire too closely, Vad Varo,” replied Hovan Du. “It should be enough that the great apes make it possible for you to restore Valla Dia’s body to her brain and escape with her from this terrible place.” “It is enough,” I replied. “When may we land?” “At once. They will help us drag the ship beneath the trees and make her fast.” “But first we must top the wall to the inner court,” I reminded him. “Yes, true—I had forgotten that we cannot open the gate from this side.” He spoke again, then, to the apes, whom we had not yet seen; and then he told us that all was arranged and that he and Dar Tarus would return with the ship after landing us inside the wall. Again we got under way and rising slowly above the outer wall dropped silently to the courtyard beyond. The night was unusually dark, clouds having followed Thuria and blotted out the stars after the moon had set. No one could have seen the ship at a distance of fifty feet, and we moved almost without noise. Quietly we lowered our prisoners over the side and Gor Hajus and I remained with them while Dar Tarus and Hovan Du rose again and piloted the ship back to its hiding place. I moved at once to the gate and, unlatching it, waited. I heard nothing. Never, I think, have I endured such utter silence. There came no sound from the great pile rising behind me, nor any from the dark jungle beyond the wall. Dimly I could see the huddled forms of Gor Hajus, Xaxa and Sag Or beside me—otherwise I might have been alone in the darkness and immensity of space.