The Return of Tarzan

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Page 19

were opened to him in this seat of culture and
learning fairly appalled him when he contemplated the very
infinitesimal crumb of the sum total of human knowledge that a single
individual might hope to acquire even after a lifetime of study and
research; but he learned what he could by day, and threw himself into a
search for relaxation and amusement at night. Nor did he find Paris a
whit less fertile field for his nocturnal avocation.

If he smoked too many cigarettes and drank too much absinth it was
because he took civilization as he found it, and did the things that he
found his civilized brothers doing. The life was a new and alluring
one, and in addition he had a sorrow in his breast and a great longing
which he knew could never be fulfilled, and so he sought in study and
in dissipation--the two extremes--to forget the past and inhibit
contemplation of the future.

He was sitting in a music hall one evening, sipping his absinth and
admiring the art of a certain famous Russian dancer, when he caught a
passing glimpse of a pair of evil black eyes upon him. The man turned
and was lost in the crowd at the exit before Tarzan could catch a good
look at him, but he was confident that he had seen those eyes before
and that they had been fastened on him this evening through no passing
accident. He had had the uncanny feeling for some time that he was
being watched, and it was in response to this animal instinct that was
strong within him that he had turned suddenly and surprised the eyes in
the very act of watching him.

Before he left the music hall the matter had been forgotten, nor did he
notice the swarthy individual who stepped deeper into the shadows of an
opposite doorway as Tarzan emerged from the brilliantly lighted
amusement hall.

Had Tarzan but known it, he had been followed many times from this and
other places of amusement, but seldom if ever had he been alone.
Tonight D'Arnot had had another engagement, and Tarzan had come by

As he turned in the direction he was accustomed to taking from this
part of Paris to his apartments, the watcher across the street ran from
his hiding-place and hurried on ahead at a rapid pace.

Tarzan had been wont to traverse the Rue Maule on his way home at
night. Because it was very quiet and very dark it reminded him more of
his beloved African jungle than did the

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