The next morning at breakfast Tarzan's place was vacant.Miss Strong was mildly curious, for Mr. Caldwell hadalways made it a point to wait that he might breakfastwith her and her mother. As she was sitting on deck laterMonsieur Thuran paused to exchange a half dozen pleasantwords with her. He seemed in most excellent spirits--hismanner was the extreme of affability. As he passed on MissStrong thought what a very delightful man was Monsieur Thuran.

The day dragged heavily. She missed the quiet companionshipof Mr. Caldwell--there had been something about himthat had made the girl like him from the first; he had talkedso entertainingly of the places he had seen--the peoplesand their customs--the wild beasts; and he had always had adroll way of drawing striking comparisons between savageanimals and civilized men that showed a considerableknowledge of the former, and a keen, though somewhat cynical,estimate of the latter.

When Monsieur Thuran stopped again to chat with her inthe afternoon she welcomed the break in the day's monotony.But she had begun to become seriously concerned in Mr.Caldwell's continued absence; somehow she constantlyassociated it with the start she had had the night before,when the dark object fell past her port into the sea.Presently she broached the subject to Monsieur Thuran.Had he seen Mr. Caldwell today? He had not. Why?

"He was not at breakfast as usual, nor have I seen himonce since yesterday," explained the girl.

Monsieur Thuran was extremely solicitous.

"I did not have the pleasure of intimate acquaintancewith Mr. Caldwell," he said. "He seemed a most estimablegentleman, however. Can it be that he is indisposed,and has remained in his stateroom? It would not be strange."

"No," replied the girl, "it would not be strange, of course;but for some inexplicable reason I have one of those foolishfeminine presentiments that all is not right with Mr. Caldwell.It is the strangest feeling--it is as though I knew thathe was not on board the ship."

Monsieur Thuran laughed pleasantly. "Mercy, my dearMiss Strong," he said; "where in the world could he be then?We have not been within sight of land for days."

"Of course, it is ridiculous of me," she admitted. And then:"But I am not going to worry about it any longer; Iam going to find out where Mr. Caldwell is," and shemotioned to a passing steward.

"That may be more difficult than you imagine, my dear girl,"thought Monsieur Thuran, but aloud he said: "By all means."

"Find Mr. Caldwell, please," she said to the steward, "and tellhim that his friends are much worried by his continued absence."

"You are very fond of Mr. Caldwell?" suggested Monsieur Thuran.

"I think he is splendid," replied the girl. "And mamma isperfectly infatuated with him. He is the sort of man withwhom one has a feeling of perfect security--no one couldhelp but have confidence in Mr. Caldwell."

A moment later the steward returned to say that Mr. Caldwellwas not in his stateroom. "I cannot find him, Miss Strong,and"--he hesitated--"I have learned that his berth was notoccupied last night. I think that I had better report thematter to the captain."

"Most assuredly," exclaimed Miss Strong. "I shall gowith you to the captain myself. It is terrible! I know thatsomething awful has happened. My presentiments were notfalse, after all."

It was a very frightened young woman and an excited stewardwho presented themselves before the captain a few moments later.He listened to their stories in silence--a look of concernmarking his expression as the steward assured him that hehad sought for the missing passenger in every part of theship that a passenger might be expected to frequent.

"And are you sure, Miss Strong, that you saw a body falloverboard last night?" he asked.

"There is not the slightest doubt about that," she answered."I cannot say that it was a human body--there was no outcry.It might have been only what I thought it was--a bundle of refuse.But if Mr. Caldwell is not found on board I shall always bepositive that it was he whom I saw fall past my port."

The captain ordered an immediate and thorough searchof the entire ship from stem to stern--no nook or cranny wasto be overlooked. Miss Strong remained in his cabin, waitingthe outcome of the quest. The captain asked her manyquestions, but she could tell him nothing about the missingman other than what she had herself seen during their briefacquaintance on shipboard. For the first time she suddenlyrealized how very little indeed Mr. Caldwell had told her abouthimself or his past life. That he had been born in Africaand educated in Paris was about all she knew, and thismeager information had been the result of her surprise thatan Englishman should speak English with such a markedFrench accent.

"Did he ever speak of any enemies?" asked the captain.

"Never."

"Was he acquainted with any of the other passengers?"

"Only as he had been with me--through the circumstanceof casual meeting as fellow shipmates."

"Er--was he, in your opinion, Miss Strong, a man whodrank to excess?"

"I do not know that he drank at all--he certainly had notbeen drinking up to half an hour before I saw that bodyfall overboard," she answered, "for I was with him on deckup to that time."

"It is very strange," said the captain. "He did not lookto me like a man who was subject to fainting spells, oranything of that sort. And even had he been it is scarcelycredible that he should have fallen completely over therail had he been taken with an attack while leaning upon it--he would rather have fallen inside, upon the deck. If he isnot on board, Miss Strong, he was thrown overboard--andthe fact that you heard no outcry would lead to the assumptionthat he was dead before he left the ship's deck--murdered."

The girl shuddered.

It was a full hour later that the first officer returned toreport the outcome of the search.

"Mr. Caldwell is not on board, sir," he said.

"I fear that there is something more serious than accidenthere, Mr. Brently," said the captain. "I wish that you wouldmake a personal and very careful examination of Mr. Caldwell'seffects, to ascertain if there is any clew to a motive eitherfor suicide or murder--sift the thing to the bottom."

"Aye, aye, sir!" responded Mr. Brently, and left to commencehis investigation.

Hazel Strong was prostrated. For two days she did notleave her cabin, and when she finally ventured on deck she wasvery wan and white, with great, dark circles beneath her eyes.Waking or sleeping, it seemed that she constantly saw thatdark body dropping, swift and silent, into the cold, grim sea.

Shortly after her first appearance on deck following thetragedy, Monsieur Thuran joined her with many expressionsof kindly solicitude.

"Oh, but it is terrible, Miss Strong," he said. "I cannot ridmy mind of it."

"Nor I," said the girl wearily. "I feel that he might havebeen saved had I but given the alarm."

"You must not reproach yourself, my dear Miss Strong,"urged Monsieur Thuran. "It was in no way your fault.Another would have done as you did. Who would think thatbecause something fell into the sea from a ship that it mustnecessarily be a man? Nor would the outcome have beendifferent had you given an alarm. For a while they wouldhave doubted your story, thinking it but the nervoushallucination of a woman--had you insisted it would have beentoo late to have rescued him by the time the ship could havebeen brought to a stop, and the boats lowered and rowedback miles in search of the unknown spot where the tragedyhad occurred. No, you must not censure yourself. You havedone more than any other of us for poor Mr. Caldwell--youwere the only one to miss him. It was you who institutedthe search."

The girl could not help but feel grateful to him for hiskind and encouraging words. He was with her often--almostconstantly for the remainder of the voyage--and shegrew to like him very much indeed. Monsieur Thuran hadlearned that the beautiful Miss Strong, of Baltimore, was anAmerican heiress--a very wealthy girl in her own right, andwith future prospects that quite took his breath away when hecontemplated them, and since he spent most of his time in thatdelectable pastime it is a wonder that he breathed at all.

It had been Monsieur Thuran's intention to leave the ship atthe first port they touched after the disappearance of Tarzan.Did he not have in his coat pocket the thing he hadtaken passage upon this very boat to obtain? There wasnothing more to detain him here. He could not return tothe Continent fast enough, that he might board the firstexpress for St. Petersburg.

But now another idea had obtruded itself, and was rapidlycrowding his original intentions into the background.That American fortune was not to be sneezed at, nor wasits possessor a whit less attractive.

"SAPRISTI! but she would cause a sensation in St. Petersburg."And he would, too, with the assistance of her inheritance.

After Monsieur Thuran had squandered a few million dollars,he discovered that the vocation was so entirely to hisliking that he would continue on down to Cape Town, wherehe suddenly decided that he had pressing engagementsthat might detain him there for some time.

Miss Strong had told him that she and her mother were tovisit the latter's brother there--they had not decided upon theduration of their stay, and it would probably run into months.

She was delighted when she found that Monsieur Thuranwas to be there also.

"I hope that we shall be able to continue our acquaintance,"she said. "You must call upon mamma and me assoon as we are settled."

Monsieur Thuran was delighted at the prospect, and lostno time in saying so. Mrs. Strong was not quite so favorablyimpressed by him as her daughter.

"I do not know why I should distrust him," she said toHazel one day as they were discussing him. "He seems aperfect gentleman in every respect, but sometimes thereis something about his eyes--a fleeting expression whichI cannot describe, but which when I see it gives me avery uncanny feeling."

The girl laughed. "You are a silly dear, mamma," she said.

"I suppose so, but I am sorry that we have not poor Mr.Caldwell for company instead."

"And I, too," replied her daughter.

Monsieur Thuran became a frequent visitor at the home ofHazel Strong's uncle in Cape Town. His attentions were verymarked, but they were so punctiliously arranged to meetthe girl's every wish that she came to depend upon him moreand more. Did she or her mother or a cousin require anescort--was there a little friendly service to be rendered,the genial and ubiquitous Monsieur Thuran was always available.Her uncle and his family grew to like him for his unfailingcourtesy and willingness to be of service. Monsieur Thuranwas becoming indispensable. At length, feeling the momentpropitious, he proposed. Miss Strong was startled.She did not know what to say.

"I had never thought that you cared for me in any suchway," she told him. "I have looked upon you always as avery dear friend. I shall not give you my answer now.Forget that you have asked me to be your wife. Let us goon as we have been--then I can consider you from an entirelydifferent angle for a time. It may be that I shall discoverthat my feeling for you is more than friendship. I certainlyhave not thought for a moment that I loved you."

This arrangement was perfectly satisfactory to Monsieur Thuran.He deeply regretted that he had been hasty, but he hadloved her for so long a time, and so devotedly, that hethought that every one must know it.

"From the first time I saw you, Hazel," he said, "I haveloved you. I am willing to wait, for I am certain that so greatand pure a love as mine will be rewarded. All that I care toknow is that you do not love another. Will you tell me?"

"I have never been in love in my life," she replied, and hewas quite satisfied. On the way home that night he purchaseda steam yacht, and built a million-dollar villa on the Black Sea.

The next day Hazel Strong enjoyed one of the happiest surprisesof her life--she ran face to face upon Jane Porter as she wascoming out of a jeweler's shop.

"Why, Jane Porter!" she exclaimed. "Where in the worlddid you drop from? Why, I can't believe my own eyes."

"Well, of all things!" cried the equally astonished Jane."And here I have been wasting whole reams of perfectly goodimagination picturing you in Baltimore--the very idea!" Andshe threw her arms about her friend once more, and kissedher a dozen times.

By the time mutual explanations had been made Hazelknew that Lord Tennington's yacht had put in at Cape Townfor at least a week's stay, and at the end of that time was tocontinue on her voyage--this time up the West Coast--and soback to England. "Where," concluded Jane, "I am to be married."

"Then you are not married yet?" asked Hazel.

"Not yet," replied Jane, and then, quite irrelevantly, "I wishEngland were a million miles from here.

Visits were exchanged between the yacht and Hazel's relatives.Dinners were arranged, and trips into the surroundingcountry to entertain the visitors. Monsieur Thuran was awelcome guest at every function. He gave a dinner himself to themen of the party, and managed to ingratiate himself in thegood will of Lord Tennington by many little acts of hospitality.

Monsieur Thuran had heard dropped a hint of somethingwhich might result from this unexpected visit of LordTennington's yacht, and he wanted to be counted in on it.Once when he was alone with the Englishman he took occasion tomake it quite plain that his engagement to Miss Strong wasto be announced immediately upon their return to America."But not a word of it, my dear Tennington--not a word of it."

"Certainly, I quite understand, my dear fellow," Tenningtonhad replied. "But you are to be congratulated--rippinggirl, don't you know--really."

The next day it came. Mrs. Strong, Hazel, and MonsieurThuran were Lord Tennington's guests aboard his yacht.Mrs. Strong had been telling them how much she had enjoyedher visit at Cape Town, and that she regretted that a letterjust received from her attorneys in Baltimore had necessitatedher cutting her visit shorter than they had intended.

"When do you sail?" asked Tennington.

"The first of the week, I think," she replied."Indeed?" exclaimed Monsieur Thuran. "I am very fortunate.I, too, have found that I must return at once, and nowI shall have the honor of accompanying and serving you."

"That is nice of you, Monsieur Thuran," replied Mrs. Strong."I am sure that we shall be glad to place ourselves underyour protection." But in the bottom of her heart wasthe wish that they might escape him. Why, she could nothave told.

"By Jove!" ejaculated Lord Tennington, a moment later."Bully idea, by Jove!"

"Yes, Tennington, of course," ventured Clayton; "it mustbe a bully idea if you had it, but what the deuce is it?Goin' to steam to China via the south pole?"

"Oh, I say now, Clayton," returned Tennington, "youneedn't be so rough on a fellow just because you didn'thappen to suggest this trip yourself--you've acted a regularbounder ever since we sailed.

"No, sir," he continued, "it's a bully idea, and you'll allsay so. It's to take Mrs. Strong and Miss Strong, and Thuran,too, if he'll come, as far as England with us on the yacht.Now, isn't that a corker?"

"Forgive me, Tenny, old boy," cried Clayton. "It certainlyIS a corking idea--I never should have suspected you of it.You're quite sure it's original, are you?"

"And we'll sail the first of the week, or any other time thatsuits your convenience, Mrs. Strong," concluded the big-heartedEnglishman, as though the thing were all arrangedexcept the sailing date.

"Mercy, Lord Tennington, you haven't even given us anopportunity to thank you, much less decide whether we shallbe able to accept your generous invitation," said Mrs. Strong.

"Why, of course you'll come," responded Tennington."We'll make as good time as any passenger boat, and you'llbe fully as comfortable; and, anyway, we all want you, andwon't take no for an answer."

And so it was settled that they should sail the following Monday.

Two days out the girls were sitting in Hazel's cabin,looking at some prints she had had finished in Cape Town.They represented all the pictures she had taken since shehad left America, and the girls were both engrossed in them,Jane asking many questions, and Hazel keeping up a perfect torrentof comment and explanation of the various scenes and people.

"And here," she said suddenly, "here's a man you know.Poor fellow, I have so often intended asking you about him,but I never have been able to think of it when we were together."She was holding the little print so that Jane did not seethe face of the man it portrayed.

"His name was John Caldwell," continued Hazel. "Do you recall him?He said that he met you in America. He is an Englishman."

"I do not recollect the name," replied Jane. "Let mesee the picture.""The poor fellow was lost overboard on our trip down thecoast," she said, as she handed the print to Jane.

"Lost over--Why, Hazel, Hazel--don't tell me that he isdead--drowned at sea! Hazel! Why don't you say that you are joking!"And before the astonished Miss Strong could catch herJane Porter had slipped to the floor in a swoon.

After Hazel had restored her chum to consciousness shesat looking at her for a long time before either spoke.

"I did not know, Jane," said Hazel, in a constrained voice,"that you knew Mr. Caldwell so intimately that his deathcould prove such a shock to you."

"John Caldwell?" questioned Miss Porter. "You do not meanto tell me that you do not know who this man was, Hazel?"

"Why, yes, Jane; I know perfectly well who he was--hisname was John Caldwell; he was from London."

"Oh, Hazel, I wish I could believe it," moaned the girl."I wish I could believe it, but those features are burned sodeep into my memory and my heart that I should recognizethem anywhere in the world from among a thousand others,who might appear identical to any one but me."

"What do you mean, Jane?" cried Hazel, now thoroughly alarmed."Who do you think it is?"

"I don't think, Hazel. I know that that is a picture ofTarzan of the Apes."

"Jane!"

"I cannot be mistaken. Oh, Hazel, are you sure that he is dead?Can there be no mistake?"

"I am afraid not, dear," answered Hazel sadly. "I wish Icould think that you are mistaken, but now a hundred andone little pieces of corroborative evidence occur to me thatmeant nothing to me while I thought that he was John Caldwell,of London. He said that he had been born in Africa,and educated in France."

"Yes, that would be true," murmured Jane Porter dully.

"The first officer, who searched his luggage, found nothingto identify John Caldwell, of London. Practically all hisbelongings had been made, or purchased, in Paris. Everythingthat bore an initial was marked either with a `T' alone, orwith `J. C. T.' We thought that he was traveling incognitounder his first two names--the J. C. standing for John Caldwell."

"Tarzan of the Apes took the name Jean C. Tarzan," saidJane, in the same lifeless monotone. "And he is dead! Oh!Hazel, it is horrible! He died all alone in this terrible ocean!It is unbelievable that that brave heart should have ceasedto beat--that those mighty muscles are quiet and cold forever!That he who was the personification of life and healthand manly strength should be the prey of slimy, crawlingthings, that--" But she could go no further, and with a littlemoan she buried her head in her arms, and sank sobbing to the floor.

For days Miss Porter was ill, and would see no one exceptHazel and the faithful Esmeralda. When at last she came ondeck all were struck by the sad change that had taken placein her. She was no longer the alert, vivacious Americanbeauty who had charmed and delighted all who came in contactwith her. Instead she was a very quiet and sad littlegirl--with an expression of hopeless wistfulness that nonebut Hazel Strong could interpret.

The entire party strove their utmost to cheer and amuseher, but all to no avail. Occasionally the jolly LordTennington would wring a wan smile from her, but for themost part she sat with wide eyes looking out across the sea.

With Jane Porter's illness one misfortune after anotherseemed to attack the yacht. First an engine broke down, andthey drifted for two days while temporary repairs were being made.Then a squall struck them unaware, that carried overboardnearly everything above deck that was portable. Later two ofthe seamen fell to fighting in the forecastle, with theresult that one of them was badly wounded with a knife, andthe other had to be put in irons. Then, to cap the climax,the mate fell overboard at night, and was drowned beforehelp could reach him. The yacht cruised about the spot forten hours, but no sign of the man was seen after hedisappeared from the deck into the sea.

Every member of the crew and guests was gloomy and depressedafter these series of misfortunes. All were apprehensive ofworse to come, and this was especially true of theseamen who recalled all sorts of terrible omens and warningsthat had occurred during the early part of the voyage, andwhich they could now clearly translate into the precursors ofsome grim and terrible tragedy to come.

Nor did the croakers have long to wait. The second nightafter the drowning of the mate the little yacht was suddenlywracked from stem to stern. About one o'clock in themorning there was a terrific impact that threw the slumberingguests and crew from berth and bunk. A mighty shudder ranthrough the frail craft; she lay far over to starboard; theengines stopped. For a moment she hung there with her decksat an angle of forty-five degrees--then, with a sullen, rendingsound, she slipped back into the sea and righted.

Instantly the men rushed upon deck, followed closely bythe women. Though the night was cloudy, there was littlewind or sea, nor was it so dark but that just off the portbow a black mass could be discerned floating low in the water.

"A derelict," was the terse explanation of the officer of the watch.

Presently the engineer hurried on deck in search of the captain.

"That patch we put on the cylinder head's blown out, sir," hereported, "and she's makin' water fast for'ard on the port bow."

An instant later a seaman rushed up from below.

"My Gawd!" he cried. "Her whole bleedin' bottom's rippedout. She can't float twenty minutes."

"Shut up!" roared Tennington. "Ladies, go below and getsome of your things together. It may not be so bad as that,but we may have to take to the boats. It will be saferto be prepared. Go at once, please. And, Captain Jerrold,send some competent man below, please, to ascertain the exactextent of the damage. In the meantime I might suggest thatyou have the boats provisioned."

The calm, low voice of the owner did much to reassurethe entire party, and a moment later all were occupied withthe duties he had suggested. By the time the ladies hadreturned to the deck the rapid provisioning of the boats hadbeen about completed, and a moment later the officer whohad gone below had returned to report. But his opinion wasscarcely needed to assure the huddled group of men andwomen that the end of the LADY ALICE was at hand.

"Well, sir?" said the captain, as his officer hesitated.

"I dislike to frighten the ladies, sir," he said, "but shecan't float a dozen minutes, in my opinion. There's a hole inher you could drive a bally cow through, sir."

For five minutes the LADY ALICE had been settling rapidlyby the bow. Already her stern loomed high in the air, andfoothold on the deck was of the most precarious nature.She carried four boats, and these were all filled and loweredaway in safety. As they pulled rapidly from the strickenlittle vessel Jane Porter turned to have one last look at her.Just then there came a loud crash and an ominous rumblingand pounding from the heart of the ship--her machinery hadbroken loose, and was dashing its way toward the bow,tearing out partitions and bulkheads as it went--the stern roserapidly high above them; for a moment she seemed to pausethere--a vertical shaft protruding from the bosom of theocean, and then swiftly she dove headforemost beneath the waves.

In one of the boats the brave Lord Tennington wiped a tearfrom his eye--he had not seen a fortune in money go downforever into the sea, but a dear, beautiful friend whom hehad loved.

At last the long night broke, and a tropical sun smotedown upon the rolling water. Jane Porter had dropped into afitful slumber--the fierce light of the sun upon her upturnedface awoke her. She looked about her. In the boat with herwere three sailors, Clayton, and Monsieur Thuran. Then shelooked for the other boats, but as far as the eye could reachthere was nothing to break the fearful monotony of thatwaste of waters--they were alone in a small boat upon thebroad Atlantic.