The Return of Tarzan

  Chapter 12

  Ships That Pass

  Let us go back a few months to the little, windswept platform of arailway station in northern Wisconsin. The smoke of forest fires hangslow over the surrounding landscape, its acrid fumes smarting the eyesof a little party of six who stand waiting the coming of the train thatis to bear them away toward the south.

  Professor Archimedes Q. Porter, his hands clasped beneath the tails ofhis long coat, paces back and forth under the ever-watchful eye of hisfaithful secretary, Mr. Samuel T. Philander. Twice within the past fewminutes he has started absent-mindedly across the tracks in thedirection of a near-by swamp, only to be rescued and dragged back bythe tireless Mr. Philander.

  Jane Porter, the professor's daughter, is in strained and lifelessconversation with William Cecil Clayton and Tarzan of the Apes. Withinthe little waiting room, but a bare moment before, a confession of loveand a renunciation had taken place that had blighted the lives andhappiness of two of the party, but William Cecil Clayton, LordGreystoke, was not one of them.

  Behind Miss Porter hovered the motherly Esmeralda. She, too, washappy, for was she not returning to her beloved Maryland? Already shecould see dimly through the fog of smoke the murky headlight of theoncoming engine. The men began to gather up the hand baggage.Suddenly Clayton exclaimed.

  "By Jove! I've left my ulster in the waiting-room," and hastened offto fetch it.

  "Good-bye, Jane," said Tarzan, extending his hand. "God bless you!"

  "Good-bye," replied the girl faintly. "Try to forget me--no, notthat--I could not bear to think that you had forgotten me."

  "There is no danger of that, dear," he answered. "I wish to Heaventhat I might forget. It would be so much easier than to go throughlife always remembering what might have been. You will be happy,though; I am sure you shall--you must be. You may tell the others ofmy decision to drive my car on to New York--I don't feel equal tobidding Clayton good-bye. I want always to remember him kindly, but Ifear that I am too much of a wild beast yet to be trusted too long withthe man who stands between me and the one person in all the world Iwant."

  As Clayton stooped to pick up his coat in the waiting room his eyesfell on a telegraph blank lying face down upon the floor. He stoopedto pick it up, thinking it might be a message of importance which someone had dropped. He glanced at it hastily, and then suddenly he forgothis coat, the approaching train--everything but that terrible littlepiece of yellow paper in his hand. He read it twice before he couldfully grasp the terrific weight of meaning that it bore to him.

  When he had picked it up he had been an English nobleman, the proud andwealthy possessor of vast estates--a moment later he had read it, andhe knew that he was an untitled and penniless beggar. It was D'Arnot'scablegram to Tarzan, and it read:

  Finger prints prove you Greystoke. Congratulations. D'ARNOT.

  He staggered as though he had received a mortal blow. Just then heheard the others calling to him to hurry--the train was coming to astop at the little platform. Like a man dazed he gathered up hisulster. He would tell them about the cablegram when they were all onboard the train. Then he ran out upon the platform just as the enginewhistled twice in the final warning that precedes the first rumblingjerk of coupling pins. The others were on board, leaning out from theplatform of a Pullman, crying to him to hurry. Quite five minuteselapsed before they were settled in their seats, nor was it until thenthat Clayton discovered that Tarzan was not with them.

  "Where is Tarzan?" he asked Jane Porter. "In another car?"

  "No," she replied; "at the last minute he determined to drive hismachine back to New York. He is anxious to see more of America than ispossible from a car window. He is returning to France, you know."

  Clayton did not reply. He was trying to find the right words toexplain to Jane Porter the calamity that had befallen him--and her. Hewondered just what the effect of his knowledge would be on her. Wouldshe still wish to marry him--to be plain Mrs. Clayton? Suddenly theawful sacrifice which one of them must make loomed large before hisimagination. Then came the question: Will Tarzan claim his own? Theape-man had known the contents of the message before he calmly deniedknowledge of his parentage! He had admitted that Kala, the ape, washis mother! Could it have been for love of Jane Porter?

  There was no other explanation which seemed reasonable. Then, havingignored the evidence of the message, was it not reasonable to assumethat he meant never to claim his birthright? If this were so, whatright had he, William Cecil Clayton, to thwart the wishes, to balk theself-sacrifice of this strange man? If Tarzan of the Apes could dothis thing to save Jane Porter from unhappiness, why should he, towhose care she was intrusting her whole future, do aught to jeopardizeher interests?

  And so he reasoned until the first generous impulse to proclaim thetruth and relinquish his titles and his estates to their rightful ownerwas forgotten beneath the mass of sophistries which self-interest hadadvanced. But during the balance of the trip, and for many daysthereafter, he was moody and distraught. Occasionally the thoughtobtruded itself that possibly at some later day Tarzan would regret hismagnanimity, and claim his rights.

  Several days after they reached Baltimore Clayton broached the subjectof an early marriage to Jane.

  "What do you mean by early?" she asked.

  "Within the next few days. I must return to England at once--I wantyou to return with me, dear."

  "I can't get ready so soon as that," replied Jane. "It will take awhole month, at least."

  She was glad, for she hoped that whatever called him to England mightstill further delay the wedding. She had made a bad bargain, but sheintended carrying her part loyally to the bitter end--if she couldmanage to secure a temporary reprieve, though, she felt that she waswarranted in doing so. His reply disconcerted her.

  "Very well, Jane," he said. "I am disappointed, but I shall let mytrip to England wait a month; then we can go back together."

  But when the month was drawing to a close she found still anotherexcuse upon which to hang a postponement, until at last, discouragedand doubting, Clayton was forced to go back to England alone.

  The several letters that passed between them brought Clayton no nearerto a consummation of his hopes than he had been before, and so it wasthat he wrote directly to Professor Porter, and enlisted his services.The old man had always favored the match. He liked Clayton, and, beingof an old southern family, he put rather an exaggerated value on theadvantages of a title, which meant little or nothing to his daughter.

  Clayton urged that the professor accept his invitation to be his guestin London, an invitation which included the professor's entire littlefamily--Mr. Philander, Esmeralda, and all. The Englishman argued thatonce Jane was there, and home ties had been broken, she would not sodread the step which she had so long hesitated to take.

  So the evening that he received Clayton's letter Professor Porterannounced that they would leave for London the following week.

  But once in London Jane Porter was no more tractable than she had beenin Baltimore. She found one excuse after another, and when, finally,Lord Tennington invited the party to cruise around Africa in his yacht,she expressed the greatest delight in the idea, but absolutely refusedto be married until they had returned to London. As the cruise was toconsume a year at least, for they were to stop for indefinite periodsat various points of interest, Clayton mentally anathematizedTennington for ever suggesting such a ridiculous trip.

  It was Lord Tennington's plan to cruise through the Mediterranean, andthe Red Sea to the Indian Ocean, and thus down the East Coast, puttingin at every port that was worth the seeing.

  And so it happened that on a certain day two vessels passed in theStrait of Gibraltar. The smaller, a trim white yacht, was speedingtoward the east, and on her deck sat a young woman who gazed with sadeyes upon a diamond-studded locket which she idly fingered. Herthoughts were far away, in the dim, leafy fastne
ss of a tropicaljungle--and her heart was with her thoughts.

  She wondered if the man who had given her the beautiful bauble, thathad meant so much more to him than the intrinsic value which he had noteven known could ever have meant to him, was back in his savage forest.

  And upon the deck of the larger vessel, a passenger steamer passingtoward the east, the man sat with another young woman, and the two idlyspeculated upon the identity of the dainty craft gliding so gracefullythrough the gentle swell of the lazy sea.

  When the yacht had passed the man resumed the conversation that herappearance had broken off.

  "Yes," he said, "I like America very much, and that means, of course,that I like Americans, for a country is only what its people make it.I met some very delightful people while I was there. I recall onefamily from your own city, Miss Strong, whom I likedparticularly--Professor Porter and his daughter."

  "Jane Porter!" exclaimed the girl. "Do you mean to tell me that youknow Jane Porter? Why, she is the very best friend I have in theworld. We were little children together--we have known each other forages."

  "Indeed!" he answered, smiling. "You would have difficulty inpersuading any one of the fact who had seen either of you."

  "I'll qualify the statement, then," she answered, with a laugh. "Wehave known each other for two ages--hers and mine. But seriously weare as dear to each other as sisters, and now that I am going to loseher I am almost heartbroken."

  "Going to lose her?" exclaimed Tarzan. "Why, what do you mean? Oh,yes, I understand. You mean that now that she is married and living inEngland, you will seldom if ever see her."

  "Yes," replied she; "and the saddest part of it all is that she is notmarrying the man she loves. Oh, it is terrible. Marrying from a senseof duty! I think it is perfectly wicked, and I told her so. I havefelt so strongly on the subject that although I was the only personoutside of blood relations who was to have been asked to the wedding Iwould not let her invite me, for I should not have gone to witness theterrible mockery. But Jane Porter is peculiarly positive. She hasconvinced herself that she is doing the only honorable thing that shecan do, and nothing in the world will ever prevent her from marryingLord Greystoke except Greystoke himself, or death."

  "I am sorry for her," said Tarzan.

  "And I am sorry for the man she loves," said the girl, "for he lovesher. I never met him, but from what Jane tells me he must be a verywonderful person. It seems that he was born in an African jungle, andbrought up by fierce, anthropoid apes. He had never seen a white manor woman until Professor Porter and his party were marooned on thecoast right at the threshold of his tiny cabin. He saved them from allmanner of terrible beasts, and accomplished the most wonderful featsimaginable, and then to cap the climax he fell in love with Jane andshe with him, though she never really knew it for sure until she hadpromised herself to Lord Greystoke."

  "Most remarkable," murmured Tarzan, cudgeling his brain for somepretext upon which to turn the subject. He delighted in hearing HazelStrong talk of Jane, but when he was the subject of the conversation hewas bored and embarrassed. But he was soon given a respite, for thegirl's mother joined them, and the talk became general.

  The next few days passed uneventfully. The sea was quiet. The sky wasclear. The steamer plowed steadily on toward the south without pause.Tarzan spent quite a little time with Miss Strong and her mother. Theywhiled away their hours on deck reading, talking, or taking pictureswith Miss Strong's camera. When the sun had set they walked.

  One day Tarzan found Miss Strong in conversation with a stranger, a manhe had not seen on board before. As he approached the couple the manbowed to the girl and turned to walk away.

  "Wait, Monsieur Thuran," said Miss Strong; "you must meet Mr. Caldwell.We are all fellow passengers, and should be acquainted."

  The two men shook hands. As Tarzan looked into the eyes of MonsieurThuran he was struck by the strange familiarity of their expression.

  "I have had the honor of monsieur's acquaintance in the past, I amsure," said Tarzan, "though I cannot recall the circumstances."

  Monsieur Thuran appeared ill at ease.

  "I cannot say, monsieur," he replied. "It may be so. I have had thatidentical sensation myself when meeting a stranger."

  "Monsieur Thuran has been explaining some of the mysteries ofnavigation to me," explained the girl.

  Tarzan paid little heed to the conversation that ensued--he wasattempting to recall where he had met Monsieur Thuran before. That ithad been under peculiar circumstances he was positive. Presently thesun reached them, and the girl asked Monsieur Thuran to move her chairfarther back into the shade. Tarzan happened to be watching the man atthe time, and noticed the awkward manner in which he handled thechair--his left wrist was stiff. That clew was sufficient--a suddentrain of associated ideas did the rest.

  Monsieur Thuran had been trying to find an excuse to make a gracefuldeparture. The lull in the conversation following the moving of theirposition gave him an opportunity to make his excuses. Bowing low toMiss Strong, and inclining his head to Tarzan, he turned to leave them.

  "Just a moment," said Tarzan. "If Miss Strong will pardon me I willaccompany you. I shall return in a moment, Miss Strong."

  Monsieur Thuran looked uncomfortable. When the two men had passed outof the girl's sight, Tarzan stopped, laying a heavy hand on the other'sshoulder.

  "What is your game now, Rokoff?" he asked.

  "I am leaving France as I promised you," replied the other, in a surlyvoice.

  "I see you are," said Tarzan; "but I know you so well that I canscarcely believe that your being on the same boat with me is purely acoincidence. If I could believe it the fact that you are in disguisewould immediately disabuse my mind of any such idea."

  "Well," growled Rokoff, with a shrug, "I cannot see what you are goingto do about it. This vessel flies the English flag. I have as muchright on board her as you, and from the fact that you are booked underan assumed name I imagine that I have more right."

  "We will not discuss it, Rokoff. All I wanted to say to you is thatyou must keep away from Miss Strong--she is a decent woman."

  Rokoff turned scarlet.

  "If you don't I shall pitch you overboard," continued Tarzan. "Do notforget that I am just waiting for some excuse." Then he turned on hisheel, and left Rokoff standing there trembling with suppressed rage.

  He did not see the man again for days, but Rokoff was not idle. In hisstateroom with Paulvitch he fumed and swore, threatening the mostterrible of revenges.

  "I would throw him overboard tonight," he cried, "were I sure thatthose papers were not on his person. I cannot chance pitching theminto the ocean with him. If you were not such a stupid coward, Alexis,you would find a way to enter his stateroom and search for thedocuments."

  Paulvitch smiled. "You are supposed to be the brains of thispartnership, my dear Nikolas," he replied. "Why do you not find themeans to search Monsieur Caldwell's stateroom--eh?"

  Two hours later fate was kind to them, for Paulvitch, who was ever onthe watch, saw Tarzan leave his room without locking the door. Fiveminutes later Rokoff was stationed where he could give the alarm incase Tarzan returned, and Paulvitch was deftly searching the contentsof the ape-man's luggage.

  He was about to give up in despair when he saw a coat which Tarzan hadjust removed. A moment later he grasped an official envelope in hishand. A quick glance at its contents brought a broad smile to theRussian's face.

  When he left the stateroom Tarzan himself could not have told that anarticle in it had been touched since he left it--Paulvitch was a pastmaster in his chosen field. When he handed the packet to Rokoff in theseclusion of their stateroom the larger man rang for a steward, andordered a pint of champagne.

  "We must celebrate, my dear Alexis," he said.

  "It was luck, Nikolas," explained Paulvitch. "It is evident that hecarries these papers always upon his person--just by chance heneglected to transfer them when he c
hanged coats a few minutes since.But there will be the deuce to pay when he discovers his loss. I amafraid that he will immediately connect you with it. Now that he knowsthat you are on board he will suspect you at once."

  "It will make no difference whom he suspects--after to-night," saidRokoff, with a nasty grin.

  After Miss Strong had gone below that night Tarzan stood leaning overthe rail looking far out to sea. Every night he had done this since hehad come on board--sometimes he stood thus for an hour. And the eyesthat had been watching his every movement since he had boarded the shipat Algiers knew that this was his habit.

  Even as he stood there this night those eyes were on him. Presentlythe last straggler had left the deck. It was a clear night, but therewas no moon--objects on deck were barely discernible.

  From the shadows of the cabin two figures crept stealthily upon theape-man from behind. The lapping of the waves against the ship'ssides, the whirring of the propeller, the throbbing of the engines,drowned the almost soundless approach of the two.

  They were quite close to him now, and crouching low, like tacklers on agridiron. One of them raised his hand and lowered it, as thoughcounting off seconds--one--two--three! As one man the two leaped fortheir victim. Each grasped a leg, and before Tarzan of the Apes,lightning though he was, could turn to save himself he had been pitchedover the low rail and was falling into the Atlantic.

  Hazel Strong was looking from her darkened port across the dark sea.Suddenly a body shot past her eyes from the deck above. It dropped soquickly into the dark waters below that she could not be sure of whatit was--it might have been a man, she could not say. She listened forsome outcry from above--for the always-fearsome call, "Man overboard!"but it did not come. All was silence on the ship above--all wassilence in the sea below.

  The girl decided that she had but seen a bundle of refuse thrownoverboard by one of the ship's crew, and a moment later sought herberth.