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bestial countenance。 To Jane Clayton he looked more gorilla
than human。 He tried to converse with her； but without success；
and finally he called to some one without。
In answer to his summons another Negro entereda man
of very different appearance from M'ganwazamso different；
in fact； that Jane Clayton immediately decided that he was
of another tribe。 This man acted as interpreter； and almost
from the first question that M'ganwazam put to her； Jane felt
an intuitive conviction that the savage was attempting to
draw information from her for some ulterior motive。
She thought it strange that the fellow should so suddenly
have become interested in her plans； and especially in her
intended destination when her journey had been interrupted
at his village。
Seeing no reason for withholding the information； she told
him the truth； but when he asked if she expected to meet her
husband at the end of the trip； she shook her head negatively。
Then he told her the purpose of his visit； talking through
the interpreter。
〃I have just learned；〃 he said； 〃from some men who live
by the side of the great water； that your husband followed
you up the Ugambi for several marches； when he was at last
set upon by natives and killed。 Therefore I have told you this
that you might not waste your time in a long journey if you
expected to meet your husband at the end of it； but instead
could turn and retrace your steps to the coast。〃
Jane thanked M'ganwazam for his kindness； though her heart
was numb with suffering at this new blow。 She who had
suffered so much was at last beyond reach of the keenest
of misery's pangs； for her senses were numbed and calloused。
With bowed head she sat staring with unseeing eyes upon
the face of the baby in her lap。 M'ganwazam had left the hut。
Sometime later she heard a noise at the entranceanother
had entered。 One of the women sitting opposite her threw a
faggot upon the dying embers of the fire between them。
With a sudden flare it burst into renewed flame； lighting
up the hut's interior as though by magic。
The flame disclosed to Jane Clayton's horrified gaze that the baby
was quite dead。 How long it had been so she could not guess。
A choking lump rose to her throat； her head drooped in
silent misery upon the little bundle that she had caught
suddenly to her breast。
For a moment the silence of the hut was unbroken。
Then the native woman broke into a hideous wail。
A man coughed close before Jane Clayton and spoke her name。
With a start she raised her eyes to look into the sardonic
countenance of Nikolas Rokoff。
Chapter 13
Escape
For a moment Rokoff stood sneering down upon Jane Clayton；
then his eyes fell to the little bundle in her lap。 Jane had
drawn one corner of the blanket over the child's face； so that
to one who did not know the truth it seemed but to be sleeping。
〃You have gone to a great deal of unnecessary trouble；〃 said Rokoff；
〃to bring the child to this village。 If you had attended to your
own affairs I should have brought it here myself。
〃You would have been spared the dangers and fatigue of the journey。
But I suppose I must thank you for relieving me of the inconvenience
of having to care for a young infant on the march。
〃This is the village to which the child was destined from
the first。 M'ganwazam will rear him carefully； making a good
cannibal of him； and if you ever chance to return to civilization
it will doubtless afford you much food for thought as you compare
the luxuries and comforts of your life with the details of the life
your son is living in the village of the Waganwazam。
〃Again I thank you for bringing him here for me； and now I must ask you
to surrender him to me； that I may turn him over to his foster parents。〃
As he concluded Rokoff held out his hands for the child； a nasty grin of
vindictiveness upon his lips。
To his surprise Jane Clayton rose and； without a word of protest；
laid the little bundle in his arms。
〃Here is the child；〃 she said。 〃Thank God he is beyond
your power to harm。〃
Grasping the import of her words； Rokoff snatched the blanket
from the child's face to seek confirmation of his fears。
Jane Clayton watched his expression closely。
She had been puzzled for days for an answer to the question
of Rokoff's knowledge of the child's identity。 If she had
been in doubt before the last shred of that doubt was wiped
away as she witnessed the terrible anger of the Russian as he
looked upon the dead face of the baby and realized that at
the last moment his dearest wish for vengeance had been
thwarted by a higher power。
Almost throwing the body of the child back into Jane Clayton's arms；
Rokoff stamped up and down the hut； pounding the air with his
clenched fists and cursing terribly。 At last he halted in front
of the young woman； bringing his face down close to hers。
〃You are laughing at me；〃 he shrieked。 〃You think that
you have beaten meeh？ I'll show you； as I have shown the
miserable ape you call ‘husband；' what it means to interfere
with the plans of Nikolas Rokoff。
〃You have robbed me of the child。 I cannot make him the
son of a cannibal chief； but〃and he paused as though to
let the full meaning of his threat sink deep〃I can make the
mother the wife of a cannibal； and that I shall doafter I
have finished with her myself。〃
If he had thought to wring from Jane Clayton any
sign of terror he failed miserably。 She was beyond that。
Her brain and nerves were numb to suffering and shock。
To his surprise a faint； almost happy smile touched her lips。
She was thinking with thankful heart that this poor little
corpse was not that of her own wee Jack； and thatbest of all
Rokoff evidently did not know the truth。
She would have liked to have flaunted the fact in his face；
but she dared not。 If he continued to believe that the child
had been hers； so much safer would be the real Jack wherever
he might be。 She had； of course； no knowledge of the whereabouts
of her little sonshe did not know； even； that he still
lived； and yet there was the chance that he might。
It was more than possible that without Rokoff's knowledge
this child had been substituted for hers by one of the Russian's
confederates； and that even now her son might be safe
with friends in London； where there were many； both able
and willing； to have paid any ransom which the traitorous
conspirator might have asked for the safe release of Lord
Greystoke's son。
She had thought it all out a hundred times since she had
discovered that the baby which Anderssen had placed in her
arms that night upon the Kincaid was not her own； and it had
been a constant and gnawing source of happiness to her to
dream the whole fantasy through in its every detail。
No； the Russian must never know that this was not her baby。
She r