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"It was wonderful of you," he said, "but you shouldn't have done it. Don't

antagonize them: I believe that they are all mad and you know they say that one

should always humor a madman."

She shook her head. "I couldn't see him kill you," she said.

A sudden light sprang to the man's eyes as he reached out a hand and grasped

the girl's fingers. "Do you care a little now?" he asked. "Can't you tell me that you

do--just a bit?"

She did not withdraw her hand from his but she shook her head sadly. "Please

don't," she said. "I am sorry that I can only like you very much."

The light died from his eyes and his fingers relaxed their grasp on hers. "Please

forgive me," he murmured. "I intended waiting until we got out of this mess and

you were safe among your own people. It must have been the shock or something

like that, and seeing you defending me as you did. Anyway, I couldn't help it and

really it doesn't make much difference what I say now, does it?"

"What do you mean?" she asked quickly.

He shrugged and smiled ruefully. "I will never leave this city alive," he said. "I

wouldn't mention it except that I realize that you must know it as well as I. I was

pretty badly torn up by the lion and this fellow here has about finished me.

There might be some hope if we were among civilized people, but here with these

frightful creatures what care could we get even if they were friendly?"

Bertha Kircher knew that he spoke the truth, and yet she could not bring herself

to an admission that Smith-Oldwick would die. She was very fond of him, in fact

her great regret was that she did not love him, but she knew that she did not.

It seemed to her that it could be such an easy thing for any girl to love Lieutenant

Harold Percy Smith-Oldwick--an English officer and a gentleman, the scion of an

old family and himself a man of ample means, young, good-looking and affable.

What more could a girl ask for than to have such a man love her and that she

possessed Smith-Oldwick's love there was no doubt in Bertha Kircher's mind.

She sighed, and then, laying her hand impulsively on his forehead, she

whispered, "Do not give up hope, though. Try to live for my sake and for your

sake I will try to love you."

It was as though new life had suddenly been injected into the man's veins. His

face lightened instantly and with strength that he himself did not know he

possessed he rose slowly to his feet, albeit somewhat unsteadily. The girl helped

him and supported him after he had arisen.

181

Tarzan the Untamed