fingered her knife and looked down upon her captive. She
glared and muttered but she did not strike. "Tonight!" she thought.
"Tonight, when it is dark I will torture him." She looked upon his
perfect, godlike figure and upon his handsome, smiling face and then
she steeled her heart again by thoughts of her love spurned; by
religious thoughts that damned the infidel who had desecrated the holy
of holies; who had taken from the blood-stained altar of Opar the
offering to the Flaming God--and not once but thrice. Three times had
Tarzan cheated the god of her fathers. At the thought La paused and
knelt at his side. In her hand was a sharp knife. She placed its
point against the ape-man's side and pressed upon the hilt; but Tarzan
only smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

How beautiful he was! La bent low over him, looking into his eyes.
How perfect was his figure. She compared it with those of the knurled
and knotted men from whom she must choose a mate, and La shuddered at
the thought. Dusk came and after dusk came night. A great fire blazed
within the little thorn boma about the camp. The flames played upon
the new altar erected in the center of the clearing, arousing in the
mind of the High Priestess of the Flaming God a picture of the event of
the coming dawn. She saw this giant and perfect form writhing amid the
flames of the burning pyre. She saw those smiling lips, burned and
blackened, falling away from the strong, white teeth. She saw the
shock of black hair tousled upon Tarzan's well-shaped head disappear in
a spurt of flame. She saw these and many other frightful pictures as
she stood with closed eyes and clenched fists above the object of her
hate--ah! was it hate that La of Opar felt?

The darkness of the jungle night had settled down upon the camp,
relieved only by the fitful flarings of the fire that was kept up to
warn off the man-eaters. Tarzan lay quietly in his bonds. He suffered
from thirst and from the cutting of the tight strands about his wrists
and ankles; but he made no complaint. A jungle beast was Tarzan with
the stoicism of the beast and the intelligence of man. He knew that
his doom was sealed--that no supplications would avail to temper the
severity of his end and so he wasted no breath in pleadings; but waited
patiently in the firm conviction that his sufferings could not endure
forever.

In the darkness La stooped above him. In her hand was a sharp knife
and in her mind