What a remarkable man the fellow was, indeed! She had thought him ignorant and stupid but a short day before, and now, within the past twenty-four hours, she had learned that he spoke not only English but French as well, and the primitive dialect of the West Coast.
She had thought him shifty, cruel, and untrustworthy, yet in so far as she had reason to believe he had proved himself in every way the contrary since the day before. It scarce seemed credible that he could be serving her from motives purely chivalrous. There must be something deeper in his intentions and plans than he had yet disclosed.
She wondered, and when she looked at him—at his close-set, shifty eyes and repulsive features, she shuddered, for she was convinced that no lofty characteristics could be hid behind so foul an exterior.
As she was thinking of these things the while she debated the wisdom of uncovering the baby’s face, there came a little grunt from the wee bundle in her lap, and then a gurgling coo that set her heart in raptures.
The baby was awake! Now she might feast her eyes upon him.
Quickly she snatched the blanket from before the infant’s face; Anderssen was looking at her as she did so.
He saw her stagger to her feet, holding the baby at arm’s length from her, her eyes glued in horror upon the little chubby face and twinkling eyes.
Then he heard her piteous cry as her knees gave beneath her, and she sank to the ground in a swoon.
CHAPTER X.
The Swede
As the warriors, clustered thick about Tarzan and Sheeta, realized that it was a flesh-and-blood panther that had interrupted their dance of death, they took heart a trifle, for in the face of all those circling spears even the mighty Sheeta would be doomed.