TARZAN AND THE LOST EMPIRE
“Why?” demanded Cassius Hasta.
“Because they have taken so many more of them to heaven this night,” replied the ape-man, pointing at the corpses lying about the garden, and Cassius Hasta smiled, appreciatively.
“They will charge in another moment,” said Maximus Praeclarus, and turning to Dilecta he took her in his arms and kissed her. “Good-by, dear heart,” he said. “How fleeting is happiness! How futile the hopes of mortal man!”
“Not good-by, Praeclarus,” replied the girl, “for where you go I shall go,” and she showed him the slim dagger in her hand.
“No,” cried the man. “Promise me that you will not do that.”
“And why not? Is not death sweeter than Fastus?”
“Perhaps you are right,” he said, sadly.
“They come,” cried Cassius Hasta.
“Ready!” shouted Tarzan. “Give them all we have. Death is better than the dungeons of the Colosseum.”
Chapter Twenty
From the far end of the garden, above the din of breaking battle, rose a savage cry—a new note that attracted the startled attention of the contestants upon both sides. Tarzan’s head snapped to attention. His nostrils sniffed the air. Recognition, hope, surprise, incredulity surged through his consciousness as he stood there with flashing eyes looking out over the heads of his adversaries.
In increasing volume the savage roar rolled into the garden of Caesar. The legionaries turned to face the vanguard of an army led by a horde of ebon warriors, glistening giants from whose proud heads floated white feather war-bonnets
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