s that attack it," replied
Tarzan. "I had seen those two work before--in the smoking-room the day
prior to their attack on you, if I recollect it correctly, and so,
knowing their methods, I am convinced that their enmity is a sufficient
guarantee of the integrity of its object. Men such as they must cleave
only to the vile, hating all that is noblest and best."

"It is very kind of you to put it that way," she replied, smiling. "I
have already heard of the matter of the card game. My husband told me
the entire story. He spoke especially of the strength and bravery of
Monsieur Tarzan, to whom he feels that he owes an immense debt of
gratitude."

"Your husband?" repeated Tarzan questioningly.

"Yes. I am the Countess de Coude."

"I am already amply repaid, madame, in knowing that I have rendered a
service to the wife of the Count de Coude."

"Alas, monsieur, I already am so greatly indebted to you that I may
never hope to settle my own account, so pray do not add further to my
obligations," and she smiled so sweetly upon him that Tarzan felt that
a man might easily attempt much greater things than he had
accomplished, solely for the pleasure of receiving the benediction of
that smile.

He did not see her again that day, and in the rush of landing on the
following morning he missed her entirely, but there had been something
in the expression of her eyes as they parted on deck the previous day
that haunted him. It had been almost wistful as they had spoken of the
strangeness of the swift friendships of an ocean crossing, and of the
equal ease with which they are broken forever.

Tarzan wondered if he should ever see her again.

Chapter 3

What Happened in the Rue Maule

On his arrival in Paris, Tarzan had gone directly to the apartments of
his old friend, D'Arnot, where the naval lieutenant had scored him
roundly for his decision to renounce the title and estates that were
rightly his from his father, John Clayton, the late Lord Greystoke.

"You must be mad, my friend," said D'Arnot, "thus lightly to give up
not alone wealth and position, but an opportunity to prove beyond doubt
to all the world that in your veins flows the noble blood of two of
England's most honored houses--instead of the blood of a savage
she-ape. It is incredible that they could have believed you--Miss
Porter least of all.

"Why, I never did believe it, even back in the wilds of your African
jungle, when you tore the raw