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Updated: May 2, 2025
With a single sweep of one mighty arm the Englishman was hurled across the room, and then Jane laid a firm white hand upon Tarzan's wrist, and looked up into his eyes. "For my sake," she said. The grasp upon Canler's throat relaxed. Tarzan looked down into the beautiful face before him. "Do you wish this to live?" he asked in surprise.
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.
The inmates of the tenant house were gone, for it was market day, and none was there to see the rapid approach of the fiery demon. Soon the flames had spanned the road to the south and cut off Canler's return. A little fluctuation of the wind now carried the path of the forest fire to the north, then blew back and the flames nearly stood still as though held in leash by some master hand.
"I do not wish him to die at your hands, my friend," she replied. "I do not wish you to become a murderer." Tarzan removed his hand from Canler's throat. "Do you release her from her promise?" he asked. "It is the price of your life." Canler, gasping for breath, nodded. "Will you go away and never molest her further?"
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