Then
he turned back to the stateroom and the girl. She was looking at him
in wide-eyed astonishment.

"And you, madame, will confer a great favor upon me if you will but let
me know if either of those rascals troubles you further."

"Ah, monsieur," she answered, "I hope that you will not suffer for the
kind deed you attempted. You have made a very wicked and resourceful
enemy, who will stop at nothing to satisfy his hatred. You must be
very careful indeed, Monsieur--"

"Pardon me, madame, my name is Tarzan."

"Monsieur Tarzan. And because I would not consent to notify the
officers, do not think that I am not sincerely grateful to you for the
brave and chivalrous protection you rendered me. Good night, Monsieur
Tarzan. I shall never forget the debt I owe you," and, with a most
winsome smile that displayed a row of perfect teeth, the girl curtsied
to Tarzan, who bade her good night and made his way on deck.

It puzzled the man considerably that there should be two on board--this
girl and Count de Coude--who suffered indignities at the hands of
Rokoff and his companion, and yet would not permit the offenders to be
brought to justice. Before he turned in that night his thoughts
reverted many times to the beautiful young woman into the evidently
tangled web of whose life fate had so strangely introduced him. It
occurred to him that he had not learned her name. That she was married
had been evidenced by the narrow gold band that encircled the third
finger of her left hand. Involuntarily he wondered who the lucky man
might be.

Tarzan saw nothing further of any of the actors in the little drama
that he had caught a fleeting glimpse of until late in the afternoon of
the last day of the voyage. Then he came suddenly face to face with
the young woman as the two approached their deck chairs from opposite
directions. She greeted him with a pleasant smile, speaking almost
immediately of the affair he had witnessed in her cabin two nights
before. It was as though she had been perturbed by a conviction that
he might have construed her acquaintance with such men as Rokoff and
Paulvitch as a personal reflection upon herself.

"I trust monsieur has not judged me," she said, "by the unfortunate
occurrence of Tuesday evening. I have suffered much on account of
it--this is the first time that I have ventured from my cabin since; I
have been ashamed," she concluded simply.

"One does not judge the gazelle by the lion