De Coude had glanced from Tarzan to the man in his grasp.

“MON DIEU, Nikolas!” he cried. “You?”

Then he turned to his accuser, and eyed him intently for a moment.

“And you, monsieur, I did not recognize you without your beard. It quite disguises you, Paulvitch. I see it all now.

It is quite clear, gentlemen.”

“What shall we do with them, monsieur?” asked Tarzan.

“Turn them over to the captain?”

“No, my friend,” said the count hastily. “It is a personal matter, and I beg that you will let it drop. It is sufficient that I have been exonerated from the charge. The less we have to do with such fellows, the better. But, monsieur, how can I thank you for the great kindness you have done me?

Permit me to offer you my card, and should the time come when I may serve you, remember that I am yours to command.”

Tarzan had released Rokoff, who, with his confederate, Paulvitch, had hastened from the smoking-room. Just as he was leaving, Rokoff turned to Tarzan. “Monsieur will have ample opportunity to regret his interference in the affairs of others.”

Tarzan smiled, and then, bowing to the count, handed him his own card.

The count read:

M. JEAN C. TARZAN

“Monsieur Tarzan,” he said, “may indeed wish that he had never befriended me, for I can assure him that he has won the enmity of two of the most unmitigated scoundrels in all Europe . Avoid them, monsieur, by all means.”

“I have had more awe-inspiring enemies, my dear count,” replied Tarzan with a quiet smile, “yet I am still alive and unworried.

I think that neither of these two will ever find the means to harm me.”

“Let us hope not, monsieur,” said De Coude; “but yet it will do no harm to be on the alert, and to know that you have made at least one enemy today who never forgets and never forgives, and in whose malignant brain there are always hatching new atrocities to perpetrate upon those who have thwarted or offended him. To say that Nikolas Rokoff is a devil would be to place a wanton affront upon his satanic majesty.”