Rising quickly with Nah-ee-lah, I flew as rapidly as my tired muscles
and exhausted gas bag would permit toward the rim of the crater. In my
heart of hearts I knew that I should be too late, for once they had
decided to make the attempt, the ship would drop like a plummet into the
depths, and by the time I reached the mouth of the abyss it would be
lost to my view forever.
And yet I struggled on, my lungs almost bursting from the exertion of my
mad efforts toward speed. Nah-ee-lah trailed far behind, for if either
of us could reach _The Barsoom_ in time we should both be saved, and I
could fly faster than Nah-ee-lah; otherwise, I should never have
separated myself from her by so much as a hundred yards.
Though my lungs were pumping like bellows, I venture to say that my
heart stood still for several seconds before I topped the crater’s rim.
At the same instant that I expected the last vestige of my hopes to be
dashed to pieces irrevocably and forever, I crossed the rim and beheld
_The Barsoom_ not twenty feet below me, just over the edge of the abyss,
and upon her deck stood West and Jay and Norton.
As I came into view directly above them, West whipped out his revolver
and leveled it at me, but the instant that his finger pressed the
trigger Norton sprang forward and struck his hand aside.
“My God, sir!” I heard the boy cry, “it is the Captain.” And then they
all recognized me, and an instant later I almost collapsed as I fell to
the deck of my beloved ship.
My first thought was of Nah-ee-lah, and at my direction _The Barsoom_
rose swiftly and moved to meet her.
* * * * *
“Great Scott!” cried my guest, leaping to his feet and looking out of
the stateroom window, “I had no idea that I had kept you up all night.
Here we are in Paris already.”
“But the rest of your story,” I cried. “You have not finished it, I
know. Last night, as you were watching them celebrating in the Blue
Room, you made a remark which led me to believe that some terrible
calamity threatened the world.”
“It does,” he said, “and that was what I meant to tell you about, but
this story of the third incarnation of which I am conscious was
necessary to an understanding of how the great catastrophe overwhelmed
the people of the Earth.”
“But, did you reach Earth again?” I demanded.
“Yes,” he said, “in the year 2036. I had been ten years within Va-nah,
but did not know whether it was ten months or a century until we landed
upon Earth.”
He smiled then. “You notice that I still say I. It is sometimes
difficult for me to recall which incarnation I am in. Perhaps it will be
clearer to you if I say Julian 5th returned to earth in 2036, and in the
same year his son, Julian 6th, was born to his wife, Nah-ee-lah the Moon
Maid.”
“But how could he return to Earth in the disabled _Barsoom_?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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