"I shall see that you do not learn too much," Tarzan assured her as he crossed to the couch and seated himself facing her, while Belthar growled and strained at his chains.
"In your own country you are no slave," said Nemone.
"But I do not need to ask that; your every act has proved ft. Perhaps you are a king?"
Tarzan shook his head. "I am Tarzan," he said, as though that explained everything, setting him above kings.
"Are you a lion man? You must be," insisted the queen. "It would not make me better or worse, so what difference does it make? You might make Erot a king, but he would still be Erot."
A sudden frown darkened Nemone's countenance.
"What do you mean by that?" she demanded. There was a suggestion of anger in her tone.
"I mean that a title of nobility does not make a man noble. You may call a jackal a lion, but he will still be a jackal."
"Do you not know that I am supposed to be very fond of Erot," she demanded, "or that you may drive my patience too far?"
Tarzan shrugged. "You show execrable taste."
Nemone sat up very straight. Her eyes flashed. "I should have you killed!" she cried. Tarzan said nothing. He just kept his eyes on hers. She could not tell whether or not he was laughing at her. Finally she sank back on her pillows with a gesture of resignation. "What is the use?" she demanded. "You probably would not let me get any satisfaction from killing you anyway, and by this time I should be accustomed to being affronted. Now answer my question. Are you a lion man in your own country?"
"I am a noble," replied the ape-man, "but I can tell you that means little; a ditch digger may become a noble if he controls enough votes, or a rich brewer if he subscribes a large amount of money to the political party in power."
"And which were you," demanded Nemone, "a ditch digger or a rich brewer?"
"Neither," laughed Tarzan.
"Then why are you a noble?" insisted the queen.
"For even less reason than either of those," admitted the ape- man. "I am a noble through no merit of my own but by an accident of birth; my family for many generations has been noble."
"Ah!" exclaimed Nemone. "It is just as I thought; you are a lion man!"
"And what of it?" demanded Tarzan.
"It simplifies matters," she explained, but she did not amplify the explanation nor did Tarzan either understand or inquire as to its implication. As a matter of fact he was not greatly interested in the subject.
Nemone extended a hand and laid it on his, a soft, warm hand that trembled just a little. "I am going to give you your freedom," she said, "but on one condition."
"And what is that?" asked the ape-man.
"That you remain here, that you do not try to leave Onthar—or me." Her voice was eager and just a little husky, as though she spoke under suppressed emotion.
Tarzan remained silent. He would not promise, and so he did not speak.
"I will make you a noble of Cathne," whispered Nemone. She was sitting erect now, her face close to Tarzan's. "I will have made for you helmets of gold and habergeons of ivory, the most magnificent in Cathne. I will give you lions, fifty, a hundred! You shall be the richest, the most powerful noble of my court!"
"I do not want such things," Tarzan said.
And then a door at the far end of the chamber opened and a Negress entered. She had been very tall, but now she was old and bent; her scraggly wool was scant and white. Her withered lips were twisted into something that might have been either a snarl or a grin, revealing her toothless gums. She stood in the doorway leaning upon a staff and shaking her head, an ancient palsied hag.
At the interruption Nemone straightened looked around. The expression that had softened her countenance was swept away a sudden wave of rage, inarticulate but no less terrible.
The old hag tapped upon the floor with her staff; her head nodded ceaselessly like that of some grotesque and horrible doll, and her lips were still contorted in what Tarzan realized now was no smile but a hideous snarl.
"Come!" she cackled. "Come! Come! Come!"
Nemone sprang to her feet and faced the woman.
"M'duze!" she screamed. "I could kill you! I could tear you to pieces! Get out of here!"
But the old woman only tapped with her staff and cackled, "Come! Come! Come!"
Slowly Nemone approached her. As one drawn by an invisible and irresistible power, the queen crossed the chamber, the old hag stepped aside, and the queen passed on through the doorway into the darkness of a corridor beyond. The old woman turned her eyes upon Tarzan, and, snarling, backed through the door after Nemone. Noiselessly the door closed behind them.
Tarzan had arisen as Nemone arose. For an instant he hesitated and then took a step toward the doorway in pursuit of the queen and the old hag. Then he heard a door open and a step behind him, and turned to see the noble who had ushered him into Nemone's presence standing just within the threshold.
"You may return to the quarters of Gemnon," announced the noble politely.
Tarzan shook himself as might a lion; he drew a palm across his eyes as one whose vision has been clouded by a mist. Then he drew a deep sigh and moved towards the doorway as the noble stepped aside to let him pass, but whether it was a sigh of relief or regret, who may say?
As the Lord of the Jungle passed out of the chamber, Belthar sprang to the ends of his chains with a thunderous roar.
11. THE LIONS OF CATHNE
When Gemnon entered the living room of their quarters the morning after Tarzan's audience with Nemone, he found the ape-man standing by the window looking out over the palace grounds.
"I am glad to see you here this morning," said the Cathnean.
"And surprised, perhaps," suggested the Lord of the Jungle.
"I should not have been surprised had you never returned," replied Gemnon. "How did she receive you? And Erot? I suppose he was glad to have you there!"
Tarzan smiled. "He did not appear to be, but it did not matter much as the queen sent him away immediately." "And you were alone with her all evening?" Gemnon appeared incredulous.
"Belthar and I," Tarzan corrected him. "Belthar does not seem to like me any better than Erot does."
"Yes, Belthar would be there," commented Gemnon. "She usually has him chained near her. But do not be offended if he does not like you; Belthar likes no one. Belthar is a man-eater. How did Nemone treat you?"
"She was gracious." Tarzan assured him, and that, too, notwithstanding the first thing I did was to offend her royal majesty."
"And what was that?" demanded Gemnon.
"I remained standing when I should have knelt," explained Tarzan.
"But I told you to kneel!" exclaimed Gemnon.
"So did the noble at the door."
"And you forgot?"
"No."
"You refused to kneel? And she did not have you destroyed! It is incredible."
"But it is true, and she offered to make me a noble and give me a hundred lions."
Gemnon shook his head. "What enchantment have you worked to so change Nemone?"
"None; it was I who was under a spell. I have told you these things because I do not understand them. You are the only friend I have in Cathne, and I come to you for an explanation of much that was mysterious in my visit to the queen last night. I doubt that I or another can ever understand the woman herself. She can be tender or terrible, weak or strong within the span of a dozen seconds. One moment she is the autocrat, the next the obedient vassal of a slave."
"Ah!" exclaimed Gemnon. "So you saw M'duze! I'll warrant she was none too cordial."
"No," admitted the ape-man. "As a matter of fact, she did not pay any attention to me; she just ordered Nemone out of the room, and Nemone went. The remarkable feature of the occurrence lies in the fact that, though the queen did not want to leave and was very angry about it, she obeyed the old woman meekly."