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Updated: May 16, 2025
And so D'Arnot commenced at once, pointing out familiar objects and repeating their names in French, for he thought that it would be easier to teach this man his own language, since he understood it himself best of all.
She loves only you. The fault that you saw was all mine. The thing that brought me there was no fault of either the Countess de Coude or myself. Here is a paper which will quite positively demonstrate that," and Tarzan drew from his pocket the statement Rokoff had written and signed. De Coude took it and read. D'Arnot and Monsieur Flaubert had drawn near.
"What a fool I have been," he concluded. "De Coude and his wife were both my friends. How have I returned their friendship? Barely did I escape murdering the count. I have cast a stigma on the name of a good woman. It is very probable that I have broken up a happy home." "Do you love Olga de Coude?" asked D'Arnot.
To Tarzan it was as though one should eulogize a butcher for his heroism in killing a cow, for Tarzan had killed so often for food and for self-preservation that the act seemed anything but remarkable to him. But he was indeed a hero in the eyes of these men men accustomed to hunting big game. Incidentally, he had won ten thousand francs, for D'Arnot insisted that he keep it all.
There was no response, and then D'Arnot placed his ear above the man's heart. To his joy he heard its steady beating beneath. Carefully he lifted Tarzan to the cot, and then, after closing and bolting the door, he lighted one of the lamps and examined the wound. The bullet had struck a glancing blow upon the skull. There was an ugly flesh wound, but no signs of a fracture of the skull.
When D'Arnot had finished the diary the two men sat in silence for some minutes. "Well! Tarzan of the Apes, what think you?" asked D'Arnot. "Does not this little book clear up the mystery of your parentage? "Why man, you are Lord Greystoke." "The book speaks of but one child," he replied.
For some time they stood there gazing out upon the busy throng beneath, each wrapped in his own thoughts. "It takes some time to compare finger prints," thought D'Arnot, turning to look at the police officer. To his astonishment he saw the official leaning back in his chair hastily scanning the contents of the little black diary. D'Arnot coughed.
It was she, though, who suggested that arms, ammunition, supplies and comforts be left behind in the cabin, ostensibly for that intangible personality who had signed himself Tarzan of the Apes, and for D'Arnot should he still be living, but really, she hoped, for her forest god even though his feet should prove of clay.
"You are right, D'Arnot," replied Tarzan, "for if Kerchak had come to Tublat's aid that night at the Dum-Dum, there would have been an end of me. But Kerchak could never think far enough ahead to take advantage of any such opportunity. Even Kala, my mother, could never plan ahead.
There was something in the man's voice as he said it that caused D'Arnot to look up sharply at his friend. What he saw in the set jaw and the cold, gray eyes made the young Frenchman very apprehensive for this great child, who could recognize no law mightier than his own mighty physical prowess.
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