the return of tarzan-第1章

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The　Return　Of　Tarzan　

by　Edgar　Rice　Burroughs







　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　CONTENTS



CHAPTER

　1　　The　Affair　on　the　Liner

　2　　Forging　Bonds　of　Hate　and　？

　3　　What　Happened　in　the　Rue　Maule

　4　　The　Countess　Explains

　5　　The　Plot　That　Failed

　6　　A　Duel

　7　　The　Dancing　Girl　of　Sidi　Aissa

　8　　The　Fight　in　the　Desert

　9　　Numa　〃El　Adrea〃

10　　Through　the　Valley　of　the　Shadow

11　　John　Caldwell；　London

12　　Ships　That　Pass

13　　The　Wreck　of　the　〃Lady　Alice〃

14　　Back　to　the　Primitive

15　　From　Ape　to　Savage

16　　The　Ivory　Raiders

17　　The　White　Chief　of　the　Waziri

18　　The　Lottery　of　Death

19　　The　City　of　Gold

20　　La

21　　The　Castaways

22　　The　Treasure　Vaults　of　Opar

23　　The　Fifty　Frightful　Men

24　　How　Tarzan　Came　Again　to　Opar

25　　Through　the　Forest　Primeval

26　　The　Passing　of　the　Ape…Man







Chapter　I





The　Affair　on　the　Liner





〃Magnifique！〃　ejaculated　the　Countess　de　Coude；　beneath

her　breath。



〃Eh？〃　questioned　the　count；　turning　toward　his　young　wife。

〃What　is　it　that　is　magnificent？〃　and　the　count　bent　his　eyes

in　various　directions　in　quest　of　the　object　of　her　admiration。



〃Oh；　nothing　at　all；　my　dear；〃　replied　the　countess；　a　slight

flush　momentarily　coloring　her　already　pink　cheek。　　〃I　was　but

recalling　with　admiration　those　stupendous　skyscrapers；　as

they　call　them；　of　New　York；〃　and　the　fair　countess　settled

herself　more　comfortably　in　her　steamer　chair；　and　resumed

the　magazine　which　〃nothing　at　all〃　had　caused　her　to　let

fall　upon　her　lap。



Her　husband　again　buried　himself　in　his　book；　but　not

without　a　mild　wonderment　that　three　days　out　from　New

York　his　countess　should　suddenly　have　realized　an

admiration　for　the　very　buildings　she　had　but　recently

characterized　as　horrid。



Presently　the　count　put　down　his　book。　　〃It　is　very　tiresome；

Olga；〃　he　said。　　〃I　think　that　I　shall　hunt　up　some

others　who　may　be　equally　bored；　and　see　if　we　cannot　find

enough　for　a　game　of　cards。〃



〃You　are　not　very　gallant；　my　husband；〃　replied　the　young

woman；　smiling；　〃but　as　I　am　equally　bored　I　can　forgive　you。

Go　and　play　at　your　tiresome　old　cards；　then；　if　you　will。〃



When　he　had　gone　she　let　her　eyes　wander　slyly　to　the　figure

of　a　tall　young　man　stretched　lazily　in　a　chair　not　far　distant。



〃MAGNIFIQUE！〃　she　breathed　once　more。



The　Countess　Olga　de　Coude　was　twenty。　　Her　husband　forty。

She　was　a　very　faithful　and　loyal　wife；　but　as　she　had　had

nothing　whatever　to　do　with　the　selection　of　a　husband；

it　is　not　at　all　unlikely　that　she　was　not　wildly　and

passionately　in　love　with　the　one　that　fate　and　her　titled

Russian　father　had　selected　for　her。　　However；　simply　because

she　was　surprised　into　a　tiny　exclamation　of　approval　at　sight

of　a　splendid　young　stranger　it　must　not　be　inferred　therefrom

that　her　thoughts　were　in　any　way　disloyal　to　her　spouse。

She　merely　admired；　as　she　might　have　admired　a　particularly

fine　specimen　of　any　species。　　Furthermore；　the　young　man

was　unquestionably　good　to　look　at。



As　her　furtive　glance　rested　upon　his　profile　he　rose　to　leave

the　deck。　　The　Countess　de　Coude　beckoned　to　a　passing　steward。

〃Who　is　that　gentleman？〃　she　asked。



〃He　is　booked；　madam；　as　Monsieur　Tarzan；　of　Africa；〃

replied　the　steward。



〃Rather　a　large　estate；〃　thought　the　girl；　but　now　her

interest　was　still　further　aroused。



As　Tarzan　walked　slowly　toward　the　smoking…room　he

came　unexpectedly　upon　two　men　whispering　excitedly　just

without。　　He　would　have　vouchsafed　them　not　even　a　passing

thought　but　for　the　strangely　guilty　glance　that　one　of　them

shot　in　his　direction。　　They　reminded　Tarzan　of　melodramatic

villains　he　had　seen　at　the　theaters　in　Paris。　　Both　were　very

dark；　and　this；　in　connection　with　the　shrugs　and　stealthy

glances　that　accompanied　their　palpable　intriguing；　lent　still

greater　force　to　the　similarity。



Tarzan　entered　the　smoking…room；　and　sought　a　chair　a

little　apart　from　the　others　who　were　there。　　He　felt　in　no

mood　for　conversation；　and　as　he　sipped　his　absinth　he　let

his　mind　run　rather　sorrowfully　over　the　past　few　weeks　of

his　life。　　Time　and　again　he　had　wondered　if　he　had　acted

wisely　in　renouncing　his　birthright　to　a　man　to　whom　he

owed　nothing。　　It　is　true　that　he　liked　Clayton；　butah；　but

that　was　not　the　question。　　It　was　not　for　William　Cecil　Clayton；

Lord　Greystoke；　that　he　had　denied　his　birth。　　It　was　for

the　woman　whom　both　he　and　Clayton　had　loved；　and　whom　a

strange　freak　of　fate　had　given　to　Clayton　instead　of　to　him。



That　she　loved　him　made　the　thing　doubly　difficult　to　bear；

yet　he　knew　that　he　could　have　done　nothing　less　than　he

did　do　that　night　within　the　little　railway　station　in　the　far

Wisconsin　woods。　　To　him　her　happiness　was　the　first　consideration

of　all；　and　his　brief　experience　with　civilization　and　civilized

men　had　taught　him　that　without　money　and　position　life　to

most　of　them　was　unendurable。



Jane　Porter　had　been　born　to　both；　and　had　Tarzan　taken

them　away　from　her　future　husband　it　would　doubtless　have

plunged　her　into　a　life　of　misery　and　torture。　　That　she　would

have　spurned　Clayton　once　he　had　been　stripped　of　both　his

title　and　his　estates　never　for　once　occurred　to　Tarzan；　for

he　credited　to　others　the　same　honest　loyalty　that　was　so

inherent　a　quality　in　himself。　　Nor；　in　this　instance；　had　he　erred。

Could　any　one　thing　have　further　bound　Jane　Porter　to　her

promise　to　Clayton　it　would　have　been　in　the　nature

of　some　such　misfortune　as　this　overtaking　him。



Tarzan's　thoughts　drifted　from　the　past　to　the　future。

He　tried　to　look　forward　with　pleasurable　sensations　to　his

return　to　the　jungle　of　his　birth　and　boyhood；　the　cruel；　fierce

jungle　in　which　he　had　spent　twenty　of　his　twenty…two　years。

But　who　or　what　of　all　the　myriad　jungle　life　would　there

be　to　welcome　his　return？　　Not　one。　　Only　Tantor；　the　elephant；

could　he　call　friend。　　The　others　would　hunt　him　or

flee　from　him　as　had　been　their　way　in　the　past。



Not　even　the　apes　of　his　own　tribe　would　extend　the　hand

of　fellowship　to　him。



If　civilization　had　done　nothing　else　for　Tarzan　of　the

Apes；　it　had　to　some　extent　taught　him　to　crave　the　society

of　his　own　kind；　and　to　feel　with　genuine　pleasure　the

congenial　warmth　of　companionship。　　And　in　the　same　ratio

had　it　made　any　other　life　distasteful　to　him。　　It　was　difficult

to　imagine　a　world　without　a　friendwithout　a　living　thing

who　spoke　the　new　tongues　which　Tarzan　had　learned　to

love　so　well。　　And　so　it　was　that　Tarzan　looked　with　little

relish　upon　the　future　he　had　mapped　out　for　himself。



As　he　sat　musing　over　his　cigarette　his　eyes　fell　upon　a

mirror　before　him；　and　in　it　he　saw　reflected　a　table　at　which

four　men　sat　at　cards。　　Presently　one　of　them　rose　to　leave；

and　then　another　approached；　and　Tarzan　could　see　that　he

courteously　offered　to　fill　the　vacant　chair；　that　the　game

might　not　be　interrupted。　　He　was　the　smaller　of　the　two　whom

Tarzan　had　seen　whispering　just　outside　the　smoking…room。



It　was　this　fact　that　aroused　a　faint　spark　of　interest　in

Tarzan；　and　so　as　he　speculated　upon　the　future　he　watched

in　the　mirror　the　reflection　of　the　players　at　the　table

behind　him。　　Aside　from　the　man　who　had　but　just　entered　the

game　Tarzan　knew　the　name　of　but　one　of　the　other　players。

It　was　he　who　sat　opposite　the　new　player；　Count　Raoul

de　Coude；　whom　at　over…attentive　steward　had　pointed　out　as

one　of　the　celebrities　of　the　passage；　describing　him　as　a

man　high　in　the　official　family　of　the　French　minister　of　war。



Suddenly　Tarzan's　attention　was　riveted　upon　the　picture

in　the　glass。　　The　other　swarthy　plotter　had　entered；　and　was

standing　behind　the　count's　chair。　　Tarzan　saw　him　turn　and

glance　furtively　about　the　room；　but　his　eyes　did　not　rest　for

a　sufficient　time　upon　the　mirror　to　note　the　reflectio