The most difficult and dangerous part of the journey was accomplished
at last, and it was with relief that I felt my fingers close about
the lowest of the stone cylinders.
It is true that these projections were too far apart to make the
balance of the ascent anything of a sinecure, but I at least had
always within my reach a point of safety to which I might cling in
case of accident.
Some ten feet below the roof, the wall inclined slightly inward
possibly a foot in the last ten feet, and here the climbing was
indeed immeasurably easier, so that my fingers soon clutched the
eaves.
As I drew my eyes above the level of the tower's top I saw a flier
all but ready to rise.
Upon her deck were Matai Shang, Phaidor, Dejah Thoris, Thuvia of
Ptarth, and a few thern warriors, while near her was Thurid in the
act of clambering aboard.
He was not ten paces from me, facing in the opposite direction;
and what cruel freak of fate should have caused him to turn about
just as my eyes topped the roof's edge I may not even guess.
But turn he did; and when his eyes met mine his wicked face lighted
with a malignant smile as he leaped toward me, where I was hastening
to scramble to the secure footing of the roof.
Dejah Thoris must have seen me at the same instant, for she screamed
a useless warning just as Thurid's foot, swinging in a mighty kick,
landed full in my face.
Like a felled ox, I reeled and tumbled backward over the tower's
side.
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