We first procured a vessel of granite from the attendant on some pretext or other--this for melting the gold. Then we pried a slab of limestone from a corner of one of the seats; luckily for us it was very soft, having been selected by the Incas for the purpose of inserting in its face the crystal prisms. Then we procured a dozen or more of the prisms themselves, and, using them as chisels, and small blocks of granite as hammers, set to work at the block of limestone.

It was slow work, but we finally succeeded in hollowing out a groove in its surface about eighteen inches long and two inches deep. That was our mold.

Then to melt the golden platters. We took four of the urns, placing them in a group on the floor, and just at the tip of the flames placed the granite vessel, supported by four blocks of stone which we pried loose from one of the seats. In the vessel we placed the golden platters.

But we found, after several hours, that we did not have sufficient heat--or rather that the vessel was too thick to transmit it. And again we set to work with our improvised chisels and hammers, to shave off its sides and bottom. That was more difficult and required many hours for completion.

Finally, with the profane portion of our vocabularies completely exhausted and rendered meaningless by repet.i.tion, and with bruised and bleeding hands, we again arranged our furnace and sat down to wait. We had waited until the dishes from our dinner had been removed, and we were fairly certain to be alone for several hours.

Finally the gold was melted, stubbornly but surely. We took the thick hide cover from the couch and, one on each side, lifted the vessel of liquid metal and filled our mold. In an hour it was hardened into a bar the shape of a half-cylinder. We removed it and poured in the remainder of the gold.

It would appear that the gain was hardly worth the pains, and I admit it. But at the least I had kept Harry occupied with something besides his amatory troubles, and at the best we had two heavy, easily handled bars of metal that would prove most effective weapons against foes who had none whatever.

We had just removed the traces of our work as completely as possible and secreted the clubs of yellow metal in a corner of the apartment when the sound of pattering footsteps came from the corridor.

Harry gave me a quick glance; I moved between him and the door. But it was Desiree.

She entered the room hurriedly and crossed to the farther side, then turned to face the door. Her cheeks were glowing brightly, her eyes flashed fire, and her breast heaved with unwonted agitation. Before either she or I had time to speak Harry had sprung to her side and grasped her arm.

"What has he done now?" he demanded in a tone scarcely audible in its intensity.

"I--don't--know," said Desiree without removing her eyes from the door.

"Let me go, Harry; let me sit down. Paul! Ah! I was afraid."

"For us?" I asked.

"Yes--partly. The brute! But then, he is human, and that is his way.

And you--I was right--you should have gone to the Cave of the Sun when he required your presence."

"But it was merely an invitation. Cannot one refuse an invitation?" I protested.

"But, my dear Paul, the creature is royal--his invitations are commands."

"Well, we were busy, and we've already seen the Cave of the Sun."

"Still it was an error, and I think you will pay for it. There have been unusual preparations under way for many hours. The king has been in my apartment, and messengers and guards have been arriving constantly, each with his little bundle of quipos, as you call them."

"Did you see the quipos?"

"Yes."

"Did any of them contain a red cord, suspended alone, with a single knot at either end?"

"Yes, all of them," said Desiree without an instant's hesitation.

"That means Harry and me," I observed. "But the message! Can you remember any of them?"

She tried, but without success. Which will not surprise any one who has ever seen the collection at the museum at Lima.

Then Harry broke in:

"Something else has happened, Desiree. No bunch of cords tied in silly knots ever made you look as you did just now. What was it?"

"Nothing--nothing, Harry."

"I say yes! And I want to know! And if it's what I think it is we're going to clear out of here now!"

"As though we could!"

"We can! We have enough provisions to last for weeks. And see here,"

he ran to the corner where he had hidden the golden clubs and returned with them in his hands, "with these we could make our way through them all. Tell me!"

There was a strange smile on Desiree's lips.

"And so you would fight for me, Harry?" she said half-wistfully, half--I know not what. Then she continued in a tone low but quite distinct: "Well, it is too late. I am the king's."

She lied--I saw it in her eyes. Perhaps she meant to save Harry from his folly, to quiet him by the knowledge that he need not fight for what was no longer his own; but she was mistaken in her man.

Harry did not stop to read her eyes--he heard her words. He took two slow steps backward, then stood quite still, while his face grew deadly white and his eyes were fastened on hers with a look that made me turn my own away. His soul looked out from them--how he loved the woman--and I could not bear it!

Nor, after a moment, could Desiree. She took a step forward, extending her arms to him and cried out:

"Harry! No! It was a lie, Harry! Don't--don't!"

And they gazed at each other, and I at Desiree, and thus we were unaware that a fourth person had entered the room, until he had crossed its full length and stood before me. It was the Inca king.

I took no time for thought, but jumped straight for Harry and threw my arms round him, dragging him back half-way across the room. Taken completely by surprise, he did not struggle. I noticed that he still held in his hands the bars of gold he had shown to Desiree.

The king regarded us for a second with a scowl, then turned to her.

She stood erect, with flashing eyes. The king approached; she held out her hand to him with an indescribable gesture of dignity.

For a moment he looked at her, then his lips curled in an ugly snarl, and, dashing her hand aside, he leaped forward in swift fury and grasped her white throat with his fingers.

There was a strangled scream from Desiree, a frantic cry from Harry--and the next instant he had torn himself free from my arms, dropping the bars of gold at my feet.

A single bound and he was across the room; a single blow with his fist and the king of the Incas dropped senseless to the floor.

Chapter XII.

AT THE DOOR.

Desiree shrank back against the wall, covering her face with her hands.

Harry stood above the prostrate figure of the king, panting and furious.

As for me, I gave no thought to what had been done--the imminent peril of the situation possessed my mind and stung my brain to action.