Even as the girl spoke, the sphere, which had been beaming in the centre
of the silent square like a mighty white jewel, began to flush with
angry red. Redder and redder grew the gleam--a fiery glow which seemed
curdling in the interior of the round as though it were filled with
flame; redder and redder, until the princess, staring into it, seemed
turned against the jet-black night behind, into a form of molten metal.
A spasm of terror passed across her as she stared; her limbs stiffened;
her frightened hands were clutched in front, and she stood cowering under
that great crimson nucleus like one bereft of power and life, and lost
to every sense but that of agony. Not a syllable came from her lips,
not a movement stirred her body, only that dumb, stupid stare of horror,
at the something she saw in the globe. What could I do? I could not
sit and see her soul come out at her frightened eyes, and not a Martian
moved a finger to her rescue; the red shine gleamed on empty faces,
tier above tier, and flung its broad flush over the endless rank of
open-mouthed spectators, then back I looked to Heru--that winsome little
lady for whom, you will remember, I had already more than a passing
fancy--and saw with a thrill of emotion that while she still kept her
eyes on the flaming globe like one in a horrible dream her hands were
slowly, very slowly, rising in supplication to ME! It was not vanity.
There was no mistaking the direction of that silent, imploring appeal.

Not a man of her countrymen moved, not even black Hath! There was
not a sound in the world, it seemed, but the noisy clatter of my own
shoenails on the marble flags. In the great red eye of that unholy globe
the Martians glimmered like a picture multitude under the red cliff of
their ruined palace. I glared round at them with contempt for a minute,
then sprang forward and snatched the princess up. It was like pulling a
flower up by the roots. She was stiff and stark when I lay hold of her,
but when I tore her from the magic ground she suddenly gave a piercing