TARZAN: 8 Novels in One Volume. Edgar Rice Burroughs

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      Conclusion

       Table of Contents

      At the sight of Jane, cries of relief and delight broke from every lip, and as Tarzan’s car stopped beside the other, Professor Porter caught his daughter in his arms.

      For a moment no one noticed Tarzan, sitting silently in his seat.

      Clayton was the first to remember, and, turning, held out his hand.

      “How can we ever thank you?” he exclaimed. “You have saved us all. You called me by name at the cottage, but I do not seem to recall yours, though there is something very familiar about you. It is as though I had known you well under very different conditions a long time ago.”

      Tarzan smiled as he took the proffered hand.

      “You are quite right, Monsieur Clayton,” he said, in French. “You will pardon me if I do not speak to you in English. I am just learning it, and while I understand it fairly well I speak it very poorly.”

      “But who are you?” insisted Clayton, speaking in French this time himself.

      “Tarzan of the Apes.”

      Clayton started back in surprise.

      “By Jove!” he exclaimed. “It is true.”

      And Professor Porter and Mr. Philander pressed forward to add their thanks to Clayton’s, and to voice their surprise and pleasure at seeing their jungle friend so far from his savage home.

      The party now entered the modest little hostelry, where Clayton soon made arrangements for their entertainment.

      They were sitting in the little, stuffy parlor when the distant chugging of an approaching automobile caught their attention.

      Mr. Philander, who was sitting near the window, looked out as the car drew in sight, finally stopping beside the other automobiles.

      “Bless me!” said Mr. Philander, a shade of annoyance in his tone. “It is Mr. Canler. I had hoped, er—I had thought or—er—how very happy we should be that he was not caught in the fire,” he ended lamely.

      “Tut, tut! Mr. Philander,” said Professor Porter. “Tut, tut! I have often admonished my pupils to count ten before speaking. Were I you, Mr. Philander, I should count at least a thousand, and then maintain a discreet silence.”

      “Bless me, yes!” acquiesced Mr. Philander. “But who is the clerical appearing gentleman with him?”

      Jane blanched.

      Clayton moved uneasily in his chair.

      Professor Porter removed his spectacles nervously, and breathed upon them, but replaced them on his nose without wiping.

      The ubiquitous Esmeralda grunted.

      Only Tarzan did not comprehend.

      Presently Robert Canler burst into the room.

      “Thank God!” he cried. “I feared the worst, until I saw your car, Clayton. I was cut off on the south road and had to go away back to town, and then strike east to this road. I thought we’d never reach the cottage.”

      No one seemed to enthuse much. Tarzan eyed Robert Canler as Sabor eyes her prey.

      Jane glanced at him and coughed nervously.

      “Mr. Canler,” she said, “this is Monsieur Tarzan, an old friend.”

      Canler turned and extended his hand. Tarzan rose and bowed as only D’Arnot could have taught a gentleman to do it, but he did not seem to see Canler’s hand.

      Nor did Canler appear to notice the oversight.

      “This is the Reverend Mr. Tousley, Jane,” said Canler, turning to the clerical party behind him. “Mr. Tousley, Miss Porter.”

      Mr. Tousley bowed and beamed.

      Canler introduced him to the others.

      “We can have the ceremony at once, Jane,” said Canler. “Then you and I can catch the midnight train in town.”

      Tarzan understood the plan instantly. He glanced out of half-closed eyes at Jane, but he did not move.

      The girl hesitated. The room was tense with the silence of taut nerves.

      All eyes turned toward Jane, awaiting her reply.

      “Can’t we wait a few days?” she asked. “I am all unstrung. I have been through so much today.”

      Canler felt the hostility that emanated from each member of the party. It made him angry.

      “We have waited as long as I intend to wait,” he said roughly. “You have promised to marry me. I shall be played with no longer. I have the license and here is the preacher. Come Mr. Tousley; come Jane. There are plenty of witnesses —more than enough,” he added with a disagreeable inflection; and taking Jane Porter by the arm, he started to lead her toward the waiting minister.

      But scarcely had he taken a single step ere a heavy hand closed upon his arm with a grip of steel.

      Another hand shot to his throat and in a moment he was being shaken high above the floor, as a cat might shake a mouse.

      Jane turned in horrified surprise toward Tarzan.

      And, СКАЧАТЬ