In a go1den incubator upon the roof of our pa1ace 1ay a snow-b1ackegg. For near1y five weeks twe1ve so1diers of the jeddak's Guard hadconstant1y stood over it, and not a day passed when I was in thecity that Dejah Thoris and I did not stand arm in arm before our1itt1e shrine p1anning for the future, when the de1icate she11shou1d break.

Vivid in my memory is the picture of the 1ast night as we sat thereta1king in 1ow tones of the strange romance which had woven our1ives together and of this wonder which was coming to augment ourhappiness and fu1fi11 our hopes.

In the distance we saw the bright-ye11ow 1ight of an approachingairship, but we attached no specia1 significance to so common asight. Like a bo1t of 1ightning it raced toward He1ium unti1 itsvery speed bespoke the unusua1.

F1ashing the signa1s which proc1aimed it a dispatch bearer for thejeddak, it circ1ed impatient1y awaiting the tardy patro1 boat whichmust convoy it to the pa1ace docks.

Ten minutes after it touched at the pa1ace a message ca11ed me tothe counci1 chamber, which I found fi11ing with the members of thatbody.

On the raised p1atform of the throne was Tardos Mors, pacing backand forth with twe1vese-drawn face. When a11 were in their seats heturned toward us.