 21 The midst of the enemy. Harry and I stood gazing at each other blankly in the semi-darkness of the cavern. But it isn't possible, I objected finally to my own thoughts. She would have cried out, and we would have heard her. The spear may have been there before. Then I raised my voice, calling her name many times at the top of my lungs. There was no answer. They've got her, said Harry, and that's all there is to it. The cursed brutes crept up on her in the dark. Much chance she had of crying out when they got their hands on her. I know it. Why did we leave her? Where did you find the spear? I asked. Harry pointed toward the wall, away from the stream. On the ground? Yes. Is there an exit from the cavern on that side? I don't know. Well, that's our only chance. Come on! We found the exit, and another, and a third. Which to take? They were very similar to one another, except that the one in the middle sloped upward at a gentle incline, while the others were level. One is as good as another, I observed, and entered the one on the left. Once started we advanced with a rush. The passage was straight and narrow, clear of obstruction, and we kept at a steady run. They may have an hour's start of us, came Harry's voice at my side. Or five minutes, I returned. We have no way of knowing, but I'm afraid we're on the wrong trail. Still, as I had said, one chance was as good as another, and we did not slacken our pace. The passage went straight forward, without a bend. The roof was low, just allowing us to pass without stooping, and the walls were rough and rugged. It was not long before we found that we had taken the wrong chance, having covered, I think, some two or three miles, when a wall loomed up directly in our path. At last a turn, panted Harry. But it was not a turn, it was the end of the passage. We had been following a blind alley. Harry let out a string of oaths, and I seconded him. Twenty minutes wasted, and another twenty to return. There was nothing else for it. We shouldered our spears and started to retrace our steps. No use running now, I declared. We can't keep it up forever, and we may as well save our strength. We'll never catch up with them, but we may find them. Harry, striding ahead two or three paces in front, did not answer. Finally we reached the cavern from which we had started. And now what? asked Harry in a tone of the most other dejection. I pointed to the exit in the middle. That we should have taken it in the first place. On the raft we probably descended altogether something like five hundred feet from the level where we started, possibly twice that distance. And this passage which slopes upward will probably take us back. At least it's as good as the other, Harry agreed, and we entered it. We had not proceeded far before we found ourselves in difficulties. The gentle slope became a steep incline. Great rocks loomed up in our path. In spots the passage was so narrow that two men could hardly have walked abreast through it, and its walls were rough and irregular, with sharp points projecting unexpectedly into our very faces. Still we went forward and upward, scrambling over and under, round, between. At one point, when Harry was a few yards in front of me, he suddenly disappeared from sight as though swallowed by the mountain. Rushing forward I saw him scrambling to his feet at the bottom of a chasm some ten feet below. Luckily he had escaped serious injury and climbed up on the other side, while I leaped across, a distance of about six feet. They could never have brought her through this. He declared, rubbing a bruised knee. Do you want to go back? I asked. But he said that would be useless, and I agreed with him. So we struggled onward, painfully and laboriously. The sharp corners of the rocks cut our feet and hands, and I had an ugly bruise on my left shoulder, besides many lesser ones. Harry's injured knee caused him to limp and thus further retarded our progress. At times the passage broadened out until the wall on either side was barely visible, only to narrow down again till it was scarcely more than a crevice between the giant boulders. The variation of the incline was no less being at times very nearly level and at others mounting upward at an angle whose ascent was all but impossible. Somehow we crawled up, like flies on a wall. When we came to a stream of water rushing directly across our path at the foot of a towering rock, Harry gave out a cry of joy and ran forward. I had not known until then how badly his knee was hurt, and when I came up to where he was bathing it in the stream and saw how black and swollen it was, I insisted that he give it a rest. But he absolutely refused, and after we had quenched our thirst and gotten an easy breath or two, we struggled to our feet and on. After another hour of scrambling and failing and hanging on by our fingernails, the way began to be easier. We came to level clear stretches with only an occasional boulder or ravine, and the rock became less cruel to our bleeding feet. The relief came almost too late, for by that time every movement was painful, and we made but slow progress. Soon we faced another difficulty when we came to a point where a split in the passage showed a lane on either side. One led straight ahead, the other branched off to the right. They were very similar, but somehow the one on the right looked more promising to us, and we took it. We had followed this but a short distance when it broadened out to such an extent that the walls on either side could be seen but dimly. It still sloped upward, but at a very slight angle, and we had little difficulty in making our way. Another half hour, and it narrowed down again to a mere lane. We were proceeding at a fairly rapid gate, keeping our eyes strained ahead, when there appeared an opening in the right wall at a distance of a hundred feet or so. Not having seen or heard anything to recommend caution, we advanced without slackening our pace until we had reached it. I said aloud to Harry, probably a cross passage, and then jerked him back quickly against the opposite wall, as I saw the real nature of the opening. It led to a small room with a low ceiling and rough walls, dark as the passage in which we stood, for it contained no light. We could see its interior dimly, but well enough to discover the form of an inka standing just within the doorway. His back was toward us, and he appeared to be fastening something to the ceiling with strips of hide. It was evident that we had not been seen, and I started to move on, grasping Harry's arm. It was then that I became aware of the fact that the wall leading away in front of us, that is the one on the right, was marked as far as the eye could reach with a succession of similar openings. They were quite close together, from where we stood I could see thirty or forty of them. I guessed that they too led to rooms similar to the one in front of us, probably likewise occupied, but it was necessary to go in spite of the danger, and I pulled again at Harry's arm. Then, seeing by his face that something had happened, I turned my eyes again on the inka in the room. He had turned about, squarely facing us. As we stood motionless, he took a hasty step forward. We had been discovered. There was but one thing to do, and we didn't hesitate about doing it. We leaped forward together, crossing the inter-reading space in a single bound, and bore the inka to the floor under us. My fingers were round his throat. Harry sat on him. In a trice we had him securely bound and gagged, using some strips of hide which we found suspended from the ceiling. My gad! exclaimed Harry in a whisper. Look at him! He's a woman! It was quite evident, disgustingly so. Her eyes, dull and sunken, appeared as two large black holes set back in her skull. Her hair, matted about her forehead and shoulders, was thick and coarse and blacker than night. Her body was innocent of any attempt at covering. Altogether not a very pleasant sight, and we bundled her into a corner and proceeded to look around the room, being careful to remain out of the range of view from the corridor as far as possible. The room was not luxuriously furnished. There were two seats of stone and a couch of the same material covered with thick hides. In one corner was a pile of copper vessels, and another two or three of stone, rudely carved. Some torn hides lay in a heap near the center of the room. From the ceiling were suspended other hides and some strips of dried fish. Some of the ladder we cut down with the points of our spears and retired with it to her corner. Thought we to ask our hostess to join us? Harry grinned. This tastes good after the other, I remarked. Hungry as we were we made sad havoc with the lady's pantry. Then we found some water in a basin in the corner and drank, not without misgivings. But we were too thirsty to be particular. Then Harry became impatient to go on, and though I had no liking for the appearance of that long row of open doorways, I did not demur. Taking up our spears we stepped out into the corridor and turned to the right. We found ourselves running. We found ourselves running a gantlet wherein discovery seemed certain. The right wall was one unbroken series of open doorways, and in each of the rooms whose interiors we could plainly see were one or more of the Inca women, and sometimes children rolled about on the stony floor. In one of them a man stood, I could have sworn that he was gazing straight at us, and I gathered myself together for a spring. But he made no movement of any kind, and we passed swiftly by. Once a little black ball of flesh, a boy it was, perhaps five or six years old, tumbled out into the corridor under our very feet. We strode over him and went swiftly on. We had passed about a hundred of the open doorways, and were beginning to entertain the hope that we might, after all, get through without being discovered, when Harry suddenly stopped short, pulling at my arm. At the same instant I saw, far down the corridor, a crowd of black forms moving toward us. Even at that distance something about their appearance and gate told us that they were not women. Their number was so great that as they advanced they filled the passage from wall to wall. There was but one way to escape certain discovery and, distasteful as it was, we did not hesitate to employ it. In a glance I saw that we were directly opposite an open doorway. With a whispered word to Harry I sprang across the corridor and within the room. He followed. Inside were a woman and two children. As we entered they looked up, startled and stood gazing at us in terror. For an instant we held back, but there was nothing else for it, and in another minute we had overpowered and bound and gagged them and carried them to a corner. The children were ugly little devils and the woman very little above a brute. Still we handled them as tenderly as possible. Then we crouched against the wall where we could not be seen from the corridor and waited. Soon the patter of many footsteps reached our ears. They passed. Others came and still others. For many minutes the sound continued steadily, unbroken, while we sat huddled up against the wall scarcely daring to breathe. Immediately in front of me lay the forms of the woman and the children. I could see their dull eyes, unblanking, looking up at me in abject terror. Still the patter of footsteps sounded from without and now and then an interval of quiet. Struck by a sudden thought I signaled to Harry, and when he had moved further back into his corner I sprang across the room in one bound to his side. A word or two of whispering and he nodded to show that he understood. We crouched together flat against the wall. My thought had come just in time, for scarcely another minute had passed when there suddenly appeared in the doorway the form of an anchor. He moved a step inside and I saw that there was another behind him. I had not counted on two of them. In the arms of each was a great copper vessel evidently very heavy, for their effort was apparent, as they stooped to place the vessels on the ground just within the doorway. As they straightened up and saw that the room before them was empty their faces filled with surprise. At the same moment a movement came from the woman in the corner. The two men glanced at them with a start of wonder, and as I had foreseen they ran across and bent over the prostrate forms. The next instant they too were prone on the floor, with Harry and me on top of them. They did not succumb without a struggle, and the one I had chosen proved nearly too much for me. The great muscles of his chest and legs strained under me, with the power that made me doubtful for a moment of the outcome. But the Incas themselves had taught us how to conquer a man when you attack him from behind, and I grasped his throat with all the strength there was in my fingers. With a desperate effort he got to his knees and grasped my wrists in his powerful black hands and tore my own grip loose. He was half way to his feet and far more powerful than I. I changed my tactics. Wrenching myself loose I fell back a step, then as he twisted round to get at me I lunged forward and let him have my fists squarely between the eyes. The blow nearly broke my hand, but he dropped to the floor. The next instant I was joined by Harry, who had overcome the other Inca with little difficulty, and in a trice we had them both bound and gagged along with the rebound. The next moment I was joined by Harry and the other Inca, who had been the remainder of the family in the corner. Owing to my strategy and withholding our attack until the Incas had got well within the room and to one side, we had not been seen by those constantly passing up and down in the corridor without, at least none of them had entered. We seemed by the stroke to have assured our safety so long the wall for the soft patter of footsteps could still be heard in the corridor. They now came at irregular intervals, and there were not many of them. Otherwise the silence was unbroken. What does it all mean? Harry whispered. The Incas are coming home to their women, I guessed. Though after seeing the women it is little wonder if they spend most of their time away from them. He is welcome to his repose in the bosom of his family. They're past an uneventful hour. Long before it ended the sound of footsteps had entirely ceased, but we thought it best to take no chances and waited for the last minute our impatience would allow us. Then uncomfortable and stiff from the long period of immobility and silence we rose to our feet and made ready to start. Harry was for appropriating some of the strips of dried fish we saw suspended from the ceiling, but I objected that our danger lay in any direction other than that of hunger, and we set out with only our spears. The corridor was deserted. One quick glance in either direction assured us of that. Then we turned to the right and set out at a rapid pace, down the long passage past a succession of rooms exactly similar to the one we had just left. Scores, hundreds of them. Each one was occupied by from one to ten of the anchors lying on the couch, which each contained, or stretched on hides on the floor. No one was stirring. Everywhere was silence, save the patter of our own feet, which we let fall as noiselessly as possible. Will it ever end? whispered Harry at length, after we had traversed upward of a mile without any sign of a cross passage or a termination. Forward and silence, I breathed for a reply. The end, at least of the silence, came sooner than we had expected. Hardly were the last words out of my mouth when a whirring noise sounded behind us. We glanced over our shoulders as we ran, and at the same instant an anchor spear flew by, not two inches from my head and struck the ground in front. Not a hundred feet to the rear we saw a group of anchors rushing along the passage toward us. Harry wheeled about, raising his spear, but I grasped him by the arm, crying, Run, it's our only chance! The next moment we were leaping forward side by side down the passage. It would have fared ill with any who appeared to block our way in that mad dash, but it remained clear. The corridor led straight ahead with never a turn. We were running as we had never run before. The black walls flashed past us in an indistinguishable blur, and the open doorways were blended into one. Glancing back over my shoulder I saw that the small group of anchors was no longer small. Away to the rear the corridor was filled with rushing black forms. But I saw plainly that we were gaining on them. The distance that separated us was twice as great as when we had first started to run. How about it? I panted. Can you hold out? If it weren't for this knee, Harry returned between breaths and through clenched teeth. But I'm with you! He was limping painfully, and I slackened my pace a little, but he urged me forward with an oath and himself sprang to the front. His knee must have been causing him the keenest agony. His face was white as death. Then I uttered a cry of joy as I saw a bend in the passage ahead. We reached it and wheeled to the right. There was solid wall on either side. The series of doors was ended. We'll shake him off now! I panted. Harry nodded. A short distance ahead we came to another cross passage and turned to the left. Glancing over my shoulder I saw that our pursuers had not yet reached the first turn. Harry kept in the lead and was giving me all I could do to keep up with him. We found ourselves now in a veritable maze of lanes and cross passages, and we turned to one side or the other at every opportunity. At length I grasped Harry by the arm and stopped him. We stood for two full minutes, listening intently. There was absolutely no sound of any kind. Thank heaven! Harry breathed and would have fallen to the ground if I had not supported him. We started out then in search of water, moving slowly and cautiously. But we found none, and soon Harry declared that he could go no further. We sat down with our backs against the wall of the passage, still breathing heavily and all but exhausted. In that darkness and silence the minutes passed into hours. We talked but little, and then only in whispers. Finally Harry fell into a restless sleep, if it may be called that, and several times I dozed off and was awakened by my head nodding against the stone wall. At length, finding Harry awake, I urged him to his feet. His knee barely supported his weight, but he gritted his teeth and told me to lead on. We can wait, I began, but he broke in savagely. No! I want to find her, that's all, and end it. Just one more chance. We searched for an hour before we found the stream of water we sought. After Harry had bathed his knee and drunk his fill, he felt more fit, and we pushed on more rapidly, but still quite at random. We turned first one way, then another, in the never ending labyrinth, always in darkness and silence. We seemed to get nowhere, and I, for one, was about to give up the disheartening task, when suddenly a sound smote our ears that caused us first to start violently, then stop and gaze at each other in comprehension and eager surprise. The bell, cried Harry. They are being summoned to the great cavern. It was the same sound we had heard twice before, a sound as of a great, detoned bell, ringing sonorously throughout the passages and caverns with a roar that was deafening. And it seemed to be close, quite close. It came from the left, said Harry, but I disagreed with him, and was so sure of myself that we started off to the right. The echoes of the bell were still floating from wall to wall as we went rapidly forward. I do not know what we expected to find, and the Lord knows what we intended to do after we found it. A short distance ahead we came to another passage, crossing at right angles, broad and straight, and somehow familiar. As with one impulse we took it, turning to the left, and then flattened ourselves back against the wall, as we saw a group of anchors passing at its farther end, some two hundred yards away. There we stood, motionless and scarcely breathing, while group after group of the savages passed in the corridor ahead. Their number swelled to a continuous stream, which in turn gradually became thinner and thinner until only a few stragglers were seen trotting behind. Finally they too ceased to appear. The corridor was deserted. We waited a while longer, then as no more appeared we started forward and soon had reached the corridor down which they had passed. We followed in the direction they had taken, turning to the right. We had no sooner turned than we saw that which caused us to glance quickly at each other and hasten our step while I smothered the ejaculation that rose to my lips. The corridor in which we now found ourselves stretched straight ahead for a distance, then turned to one side, and the corner thus formed was flooded with a brilliant blaze of light. There was no longer any doubt of it. We were on our way to the great cavern. For a moment I hesitated, asking myself for what purpose we hastened on thus into the very arms of our enemies, then propelled by instinct or premonition, I know not what, I took a firmer grasp on my spear and followed Harry without word, throwing caution to the winds. Yet we avoid in full hardiness, for as we approached the last turn we proceeded slowly, keeping an eye on the rear. But all the Incas appeared to have assembled within, for the corridor remained deserted. We crept silently to the corner, avoiding the circle of light as far as possible, and crouching side by side on the rock, looked out together on a scene nonetheless striking, because we had seen it twice before. It was the great cavern. We saw it from a different viewpoint than before. The alcove which held the golden throne was far off to our left, nearly halfway round the vast circumference. On the throne was seated the king, surrounded by guards and attendants. As before, the stone seats which surrounded the amphitheater on every side were filled with the Incas, crouching motionless and silent. The flames and the massive urns mounted in steady tongues, casting their blinding glare in every direction. All this I saw in a flash, when suddenly Harry's fingers sank into the flesh of my arm with such force that I all but cried out in actual pain. And then, glancing at him and following the direction of his gaze, I saw Desiree. She was standing on the top of the lofty column in the center of the lake. Her white body, uncovered, was outlined sharply against the black background of the cavern above. End of Chapter 21 Recording by Roger Moline Chapter 22 Of Under the Andes This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Roger Moline Under the Andes by Rex Stout Chapter 22 The Beginning of the End Neither Harry nor I spoke. Our eyes were concentrated on the scene before us, trying to comprehend its meaning. It was something indefinable in Desiree's attitude that told me the truth, what I cannot tell. Her profile was toward us. It could not have been her eyes, or any expression of her face, but there was a tenseness about her pose, a stiffening of the muscles of her body, an air of lofty scorn and supreme triumph coming somehow from every line of her motionless figure that flashed certainly into my brain. And on the instant I turned to Harry. Follow me, I whispered, and he must have read the force of my knowledge in my eyes, for he obeyed without a word. Back down the passage we ran, halting at its end. Harry opened his lips to speak, but I took the words from his mouth. Seconds were precious. They have fired the column, you remember. Follow me, keep your spear ready. Not a sound, if you love her. I saw that he understood, and saw, too, by the expression that shot into his face, that it would go ill with any Incas who tried to stop us then. We rushed forward side by side, guessing at our way, seeking the entrance to the tunnel that led to the foot of the column. A prayer was on my lips that we might not be too late. Harry's lips were compressed together tightly as a vice. Death we did not fear, even for desiré, but we remember the horror of our own experience on the top of that column, and shuddered as we ran. As I have said, we had entered the great cavern at a point almost directly opposite the alcove, and therefore at a distance from the entrance we sought. It was necessary to half encircle the cavern, and the passages were so often crossed by other passages that many times we had to guess at the proper road. But not for an instant did we hesitate. We flew rather than ran. I felt within me the strength and resolve of ten men, and I knew then that there was something I must do and would do before I died, though a thousand devils stood in my way. I do not know what led us, whether a remorseful providence, who suddenly decided that we had been played with long enough, or the mere animal instinctive direction, or blind luck. But so fast did we go that it seemed to me we had left the great cavern scarcely a minute behind us when I suddenly saw the steps of a steep stairway leading down from an opening on our right. How my heart leaped then! Harry uttered a hoarse cry of exultation. The next instant we were dashing headlong down the steps, avoiding a fall by, I know not what, miracle. And there before us was the entrance to the tunnel. I held Harry back, almost shouting, You stay here. Guard the entrance. I'll get her. No! he cried, pushing forward. I can't stay. Fool! I cried, dashing him back. We would be caught like rats in a trap. Defend that entrance with your life. I saw him hesitate, and knowing that he would obey, I dashed forward into the tunnel. When nearly to its end I made a misstep on the uneven ground, and precipitated myself against the wall. A sharp pain shot through my left shoulder, but at the time I was scarcely conscious of it, as I picked myself up and leaped forward. The end was in sight. Just as I reached the foot of the spiral stairway, I saw a black form descending from it. That anchor never knew what hit him. I did not use my spear. Time was too precious. He disappeared in the whirlpool beneath the base of the column through which Harry and I had once miraculously escaped. But despair filled my heart, as, with my feet on the first step of the spiral stairway, I cast a quick glance upward. The upper half of the inside of the column was a raging furnace of fire. How, or from what it came, I did not stop to inquire. I bound it up the stairway in desperate fury. I did not know then that the stone steps were baking and blistering my feet. I did not know, as I came level with the base of the flames, that every hair was being singed from my head and body. I only knew that I must reach the top of the column. Then I saw the source of the flames as I reached them. Huge vats of oil, six, a dozen, twenty, I know not how many, were ranged in a circle on a ledge of stone encircling the column, and from their tops the fire leaped upward to a great height. I saw what must be done. How I did it, God only knows. I shut my eyes now, as I remember it. Hooking the rim of the vat nearest me with the point of my spear, I sent it tumbling down the length of the column into the whirlpool many feet below. Then another, and another, and another, until the ledge was empty. Some of the burning oil, flying from the overturned vats, alighted on the stairway, casting weird patches of light up and down the whole length of the column. Some of it landed on my body, my face, my hands. It was a very hell of heat. My lungs, all the inside of me, was on fire. My brain sang and whirled. My eyes felt as though they were being burned from their sockets with red hot irons. I bound it upward. A few more steps, I could not see, I could hardly feel, and my head bumped against the stone at the top of the column. I put out my hand, groping around half crazily, and by some wild chance it came in contact with the slide that moved the stone slab. I pushed, hardly knowing what I did, and the stone flew to one side. I stuck my head through the opening and saw Desiree. Her back was toward me. As I emerged from the opening, the Incas seated round the vast amphitheater and the King, seated on the golden throne in the alcove, rose involuntarily from their seats in astonished wonder. Desiree saw the movement and, turning, caught sight of me. A sudden cry of amazement burst from her lips. She made a hasty step forward and fell fainting into my arms. I shook her violently, but she remained unconscious, and this added catastrophe all but unnerved me. For a moment I stood on the upper step, with the upper half of my body swaying from side to side, extending beyond the top of the column. Then I turned and began to descend with Desiree in my arms. Every step of that descent was unspeakable agony. Feeling was hardly in me. My whole body was an engine of pain. Somehow I staggered and stumbled downward. At every step I expected to fall headlong to the bottom with my burden. Desiree's form remained limp and lifeless in my arms. I reached the ledge on which the vats had been placed and passed it. Air entered my burning lungs like a breeze from the mountains. Every step now made the next one easier. I began to think that I might, after all, reach the bottom in safety. Another twenty steps and I could see the beginning of the tunnel below. Desiree's form stirred slightly in my arms. A glance showed me her eyes looking up into mine as her head lay back on my shoulder. Why, she moaned, in the name of heaven above us, why? I had no time for answer. My lips were locked tightly together as I sought the step below, with a foot that had no feeling even for the stone. We were nearly to the bottom. We reached it. I placed Desiree on her feet. Can you stand? I gasped, and the words were torn from my throat with a great effort. But you, she cried, and I saw that her eyes were filled with horror. No doubt I was a pitiful thing to look at. But there was no time to be lost, and seeing that her feet supported her, I grasped her arm and started down the tunnel, just as Harry's voice, raised in a great shout, came to us from its farther end. No! cried Desiree, shrinking back in terror. Paul! I dragged her forward. Then, as Harry's cry was repeated, she seemed to understand and sprang forward beside me. Another second wasted, and we would have been too late. Just as we reached Harry's side at the end of the tunnel, the Incas, warned by my appearance at the top of the column, appeared above on the stairway, at the foot of which Harry had made his stand. At the sight of Desiree, Harry uttered a cry of joy, then gazed in astonishment as I appeared behind her. Run for your lives! he shouted, pointing down the passage leading to the apartments beyond. As he spoke, a shower of spears descended from above, rattling on the steps and on the ground beside us. I stooped to pick up two of them, and as Desiree and I darted forward into the passage, with Harry bringing up the rear, the Incas dashed down the stairway after us. We found ourselves at once in the maze of lanes and passages leading to the royal apartments. That, I thought, was as good a goal as any, and besides, the way led to the cavern where we had once before successfully withstood our enemies, but the way was not so easy to find. Turn and twist about as we would, we could not shake off our pursuers. Harry kept urging me forward, but I was using every ounce of strength that was left to me. Desiree, too, was becoming weaker at every step, and I could hear Harry's cry of despair as she perceptibly faltered and slackened her pace. I soon realized that we were no longer in the passage, or group of passages, that led to the royal apartments and the cavern beyond. But there was no time to seek our way. Well enough if we went forward. We found ourselves in a narrow lane, strewn with rocks, crooked and winding. Desiree stumbled and would have fallen, but for my outstretched arm. A spear from behind whistled past my ear as we again bounded forward. Harry was shouting to us that the Incas were upon us. I caught Desiree's arm and pulled her on with the last great effort. The lane became narrower still, we brushed the wall on either side, and I pushed Desiree ahead of me and followed behind. Suddenly she stopped short, turning to face me so suddenly that I was thrown against her, nearly knocking her down. Your spear! she cried desperately. I can go no farther, and she sank to the ground. At the same moment there came a cry from Harry in the rear, a cry that held joy and wonder, and I turned to see him standing some distance away, gazing down the lane through which we had come. They've given up, he called. They're gone! And I saw that it was true. No sound came, and no Inca was to be seen. Then, seeing Desiree on the ground, Harry ran to us and sprang to her side. Desiree! he cried, lifting her in his arms. She opened her eyes and smiled at him, and he kissed her many times, her hair, her lips, her eyes. Then he placed her gently on her feet, and, supporting her with his arm, moved forward slowly. I led the way. The lane ahead of us was scarcely more than a crevice between the rocks. I squeezed my way through with difficulty. Then the walls ended abruptly, just when I had begun to think we could go no farther, and we found ourselves at the entrance to a cavern so large that no wall was to be seen on any side save the one behind us. On the instant I guessed at the reason why the Incas had ceased their pursuit so abruptly, and I turned to Harry, I'm afraid we've jumped from the frying pan into the fire. If this cavern holds anything like that other, you remember. If it does, we shall see, he replied. Supporting Desiree on either side, we struck out directly across the cavern, halting every few steps to listen for a sound, either of the Incas which we feared, or of running water which we desired. We heard neither. All was blackness and the most complete silence. Then I became aware for the first time of intolerable pain shooting up through my legs into my body. The danger passed, reason returned, and feeling. I could not suppress a low cry rung inexorably from my chest, and I halted, leaning my whole weight on Desiree's shoulder. What is it, she cried, and for answer, though I strained every atom of my will and strength to prevent it, I toppled to the ground, dragging her with me. What followed came to me as in a dream, though I was not wholly unconscious. I was aware that Harry and Desiree were bending over me. Then I felt my head and shoulders being lifted from the ground, and a soft warm arm supporting me. A minute passed, or an hour, I did not know, and I felt hut drops of moisture fall on my cheek. I struggled to open my eyes and saw Desiree's face quite near my own. My head was resting on her shoulder. She was weeping silently, and great tears rolled down her cheeks unrestrained. To have seen the sun or stars shining down upon me would not have astonished me more. I gazed at her a long moment in silence. She saw that I did so, but made no effort to turn her head or avoid my gaze. Finally I found my tongue. Where is Harry? I asked. He has gone to look for water, she replied, and curiously enough her voice was quite steady. I smiled. It is useless. I am done for. That isn't true, she denied, in a voice almost of anger. You will get well. You are injured badly. After a short pause she added, For me there was a long silence. I thought it hardly worth while to contradict her, and then I said simply Why are you crying, Desiree? She looked at me as though she had not heard. Then, after another silence, her voice came so low that it barely reached my ears. For this, and for what might have been, my friend. But you have said, I know. Would you make me doubt again? Do not. Ah! she passed her hand gently over my forehead and touched the tips of her fingers to my burning eyes. You must have cared for me in that other world. I will not doubt it, unless you speak, and you must not. Nothing would have been too high for us. We could have opened any door, even the door to happiness. But you said once, forgive me if I remind you of it now, you said that you are, you called yourself La Marana. She shrank back, exclaiming, Paul, indeed, I need to forgive you. Still it is true, I persisted, turning to look at her. The movement caused me to halt, closing my eyes, while a great wave of pain swept over me from head to foot. Then I went on. Could you expect to confine your heart? You say we could have opened any door. Well, tell me, what could we have done, you and I? But that is what I do not think of, cried Desiree impatiently. I would perhaps have placed my hand on your heart, as I do now. You would perhaps have fought for me, as you have done. I might even— She hesitated, while the ghost of a smile that had died before it reached the light appeared on her lips, as her head was lowered close, quite close to mine. A long moment and then— Must I ask for it? I breathed. She jerked her head up sharply. You do not want it? she said, dryly. I raised my hand, groping for her fingers, but could not find them. She saw, and slowly, very slowly, her hand crept to mine, and was caught and held there. Desiree, I want it! I said half fiercely, and I forgot my pain and our danger, forgot everything but her white face in dim outline above me, and her eyes glowing and tender against her wish, and her hand that nestled in my hand. Be merciful to me! I want it, as I have never wanted anything in my life. Desiree, I love you! At that I felt her hand move quickly, as for freedom, but I held it fast. And then, slowly, her head was lowered. I waited breathlessly. I felt her quick breath on my face, and the next moment her lips had found my lips, hot and dry, and remained there. Then she raised her head, saying, tremulously, that was my soul, and it is the first time it has ever escaped me. At the same instant we were startled by the sound of Harry's voice in the darkness. Desiree, where are you? I waited for her to answer, but she was silent, and I called out to him our direction. A moment later his form appeared at a distance, and soon he had joined us. How about it, old man? he asked, bending over me. Then he told us that he had found no water. He had explored two sides of the cavern, one at a distance of a half a mile or more, and was crossing to find the third when he had called to us. But there is little use, he finished gloomily. The place is silent as the grave. If there were water we would hear it. I can't even find an exit except the crevice that led us in. Desiree's hand was still in mine. It may be, perhaps I can go with you, I suggested. But he would not hear of it, and set out again alone in the opposite direction to that which he had taken previously. In a few minutes he returned, reporting no better success than before. On that side he said the wall of the cavern was quite close. There was no sign anywhere of water, but to the left there were several narrow lanes leading at angles whose sides were nearly parallel to each other, and some distance to the right there was a broad and clear passage sloping downward, directly away from the cavern. Is the passage straight? I asked, struck with a sudden idea. Could you see far within? A hundred feet or so was the answer. Why, shall we follow it? Can you walk? I think so, I answered. At any rate, I must find some water soon or quit the game. But that isn't why I asked. Perhaps it explains the sudden disappearance of the Incas. They knew they couldn't follow us through that narrow crevice. What if they had made for the passage? Harry grumbled that we had enough trouble without trying to borrow more. We decided to wait a little longer before starting out from the cavern. Harry helped me to my feet to give them a trial, and though I was able to stand, it was only by a tremendous effort and exertion of the will. Not yet, I murmured between clenched teeth, and again Desiree sat on the hard rock and supported my head and shoulders in her arms, despite my earnest remonstrances. Harry stood before us, leaning on his spear. Soon he left us again, departing in the direction of the crevice by which we had entered. I detected his uneasiness in the tone with which he directed us to keep a look out around in every direction. We could move to the wall, I had suggested, but he shook his head, saying that where we were we at least had room to turn. When he had gone Desiree and I sat silent for many minutes. Then I tried to rise, insisting that she must be exhausted with the long strain she had undergone, but she denied it vehemently and refused to allow me to move. It is little enough, she said, and though I but half understood her, I made no answer. I myself was convinced that we were at least near the end. It was certain that the Incas had merely delayed, not abandoned, the pursuit, and our powers and means of resistance had been warned to nothing. Our curious apathy and half-indifference spoke for itself. It was as though we had at length recognized the hand of fate and seen the futility of further struggle. For weak and injured as I was, I still had strengthened me. It was a listlessness of the brain and hopelessness of the heart that made me feel like I was in the dead. It made me content to lie and wait for whatever might come. The state of my feelings toward Desiree were even then elusive. They are more so now. I had told her I loved her. Well, I had told many women that, but Desiree had moved me. With her it was not the same that I felt. I had never so admired a woman, and the thrill of that kiss is in me yet. I can recall it and tremble under its power by merely closing my eyes. Her warm hand, pressed tightly in my own, seemed to send an electric communication to every nerve in my body, and eased my suffering and stilled my pain. That, I know, is not love. And perhaps I was mistaken when I imagined that it was there. Are you asleep? she asked presently, after I had lain perfectly quiet for many minutes. Her voice was so low that it entered my ear as the faintest breath. Hardly, I answered, to tell the truth I expect never to sleep again. I suppose you understand me. I can't say why. I feel it. Desiree nodded. Do you remember, Paul, what I said that evening on the mountain? Then, I suppose my face must have betrayed my thought, she added quickly. Oh, I didn't mean that, other thing. I said this mountain would be my grave. Do you remember? You see, I knew. I started to reply, but was interrupted by Harry, calling to ask where we were. I answered, and soon he had joined us and seated himself beside Desiree on the ground. I found nothing, was all he said, wearily, as he lay back and closed his eyes, resting his head on his hands. The minutes passed slowly. Desiree and I talked in low tones. Harry moved about uneasily in his hard bed, saying nothing. Finally, despite Desiree's energetic protests, I rose to my knees and insisted that she rest herself. We seemed none of us to be scarcely aware of what we were doing. Our movements had a curious purposelessness about them that gave the thing an appearance of unreality. I know not what. It comes to my memory as some indistinct and haunting nightmare. Suddenly, as I sat gazing dully into the semi-darkness of the cavern, I saw that which drove the apathy from my brain with a sudden shock, at the same time paralyzing my senses. I strained my eyes ahead. There could be no doubt of it. That black, slowly moving line was a band of Incas creeping toward us silently on their knees through the darkness. Glancing to either side, I saw that the line extended completely around us to the right and left. The sight seemed to paralyze me. I tried to call to Harry. No sound came from my eager lips. I tried to put out my hand to rouse him and to pick up my spear. My arms remained motionless at my side. Desiree lay close beside me. I could not even turn my head to see if she too saw, but kept my eyes as though fascinated on that silent black line approaching through the darkness. Will they leap now? Now? Now? I asked myself with every beat of my pulse. It could not be much longer. They were now so close that each black, tense form was in clear outline, not fifty feet away. End of Chapter 22. Recording by Roger Maline. Under the Andes by Rex Stout. Chapter 23. We are two. Whether I would have been able to rouse myself to action before the shock of the assault was actually upon us, I shall never know. It was not fear that held me, for I felt none. I think that dimly and half unconsciously I saw in that black line silently creeping upon us the final and inexorable approach of the remorseless fate that had pursued us ever since we had dashed after Desiree into the Cave of the Devil, rendering our every effort futile, our most desperate struggles, the laughing stock of the gods. I was not even conscious of danger. I sat as in a stupor. But action came, though not from me, so suddenly that I scarcely knew what had happened. There was a cry from Desiree. Harry sprang to his feet. The Incas leaped forward. I felt myself jerked violently from the ground, and a spear was thrust into my hand. Harry's form flashed past me, shouting to me to follow. Desiree was at his heels. But I saw her halt and turned to me, and I too sprang forward. Harry's spear whirled about his head, leaving a gap in the black line that was now upon us. Through it we plunged. The Incas turned and came at us from behind. One whose hands were upon Desiree got my spear in his throat and sank to the ground. Cross to the left, Harry yelled. He was fighting them off from every direction at once. I turned, calling to Desiree to follow, and dashed across the cavern. We saw the wall just ahead, broken and rugged. Again turning I called to Harry, but could not see him for the black forms on every side, and I was starting to his rescue when I saw him plunge toward us, cutting his way through the solid mass of Incas as though they had been stalks of corn. He was not a man, but a demon possessed. Go on, he shouted. I'll make it. Then I turned and ran with Desiree to the wall. We followed it a short distance before we reached one of the lanes of which Harry had spoken. At its entrance he joined us, still bidding us to leave him to cover our retreat. Once within the narrow lane his task was easier. Boulders and projecting rocks obstructed our progress, but they were even greater obstacles to those who pursued us. Still they rushed forward, only to be hurled back by the point of Harry's spear. Once, turning, I saw him pick one of them up bodily and toss him whirling through the air into the very faces of his comrades. I had all I could do with Desiree and myself. Many times I scrambled up the steep face of some boulder, and, after pulling her up safely after me, let her down again on the other side. Then I returned to see that Harry got over safely, and often he made it barely by inches, while flying spears struck the rock on every side. It is a wonder to me now that I was able even to stand, after my experience on the spiral stairway in the column. The soles of my feet and the palms of my hands were baked black as the ink as themselves. Blisters covered my body from head to foot, swelling, indescribably painful. Every step I took made me clench my teeth to keep from sinking in a faint to the ground. I expected always that the next would be my last. But somehow I struggled onward. It was the thought of Desiree, I think, that held me up, and Harry. Suddenly a shout came from Harry that the Incas had abandoned the pursuit. It struck me almost as a matter of indifference, nor was I affected when almost immediately afterward he called that he had been mistaken, and that they had rushed forward with renewed fury and in greater numbers. It is only a matter of time now, I said to Desiree, and she nodded. Still we went forward. The land had carried us straight away from the cavern without a turn. Its walls were the roughest I had seen, and often a boulder which lay across our path presented a serrated face that looked as though it had just been broken from the wall above. Still the stone was comparatively soft. Time had not yet worked its levelling finger on the surfaces that surrounded us. We were standing on one of these boulders when Harry came running toward us. There stopped, he cried gleefully, at least for a little. A piece of rock as big as a house gently slid from above onto their precious heads. It may have blocked them off completely. We hurried forward then. Harry helped Desiree while I painfully brought up the rear. At every few steps they were forced to halt and wait for me, though I did my utmost to keep up with them. Harry had taken my spear that I might have both hands to help me over the rocks. Climbing, sliding, jumping, we left the ink as behind. No sound came from the rear. I began to think that they had really been completely shut off, and several times opened my mouth to call to Harry to ask him if it would not be safe to halt. For every movement I made was torture. But each time I choked back the cry. He thought it was necessary to go on, and I followed. This lasted, I know not how long. I was staggering and reeling forward like a drunken man, so little aware of what I was doing that when Harry and Desiree finally stopped at the beginning of a level, unbroken stretch in the lane, I stumbled directly against them before I knew they had halted. Go on, I gasped, struggling to my feet in a mania. Harry stooped over to assist me and set me with my back resting against the wall. Desiree supported herself nearby, scarcely able to stand. We can go no farther, said Harry, if they come. As he spoke I became aware of a curious movement in the wall opposite, a movement as of the wall itself. At first I thought it a delusion produced by my disordered brain, but when I saw Desiree's astonished gaze following mine, and heard Harry's cry of wonder as he turned inside also, I knew the thing was real. A great portion of the wall, the entire side of the passage for a length of a hundred feet or more, was sliding slowly downward. Glancing above I saw a space of several feet where the rock had departed from its bed. The only noise audible was a low, grating sound, like the slow grinding of a gigantic millstone. None of us moved. If there were danger we would seem to have welcomed it. Suddenly the great mass of rock appeared to halt in its downward movement and hang as though suspended. Then with a sudden jerk it seemed to free itself, swaying ponderously toward us, and the next movement it had fallen straight down into some abyss below, thundering, tumbling, sliding with terrific velocity. There was a deafening roar under our feet, the ground rocked as from an earthquake, and it seemed as though the wall against which we stood was about to fall in upon us. Dust and fragments of rock filled the air on every side, and one huge boulder, detached from the roof above, came tumbling at our feet, missing us by inches. We were completely stunned by the cataclysm, but in a moment Harry had recovered and run to the edge of the chasm opposite thus suddenly formed. Desiree and I followed. There was nothing to be seen save the blackness of space. Immediately before us was an apparently bottomless abyss, black and terrifying. The side descended straight down from our feet. Looking across we could see dimly a wall some distance away, smooth and with a faint whiteness. On either side of us other walls extended to meet the farther wall, smooth and polished his glass. The Incas didn't do that, I hope, said Harry, turning to me. Hardly, I answered, and in the absorbing interest in the phenomenon before me, I half forgot my pain. I moved to the edge of one of the walls extending at right angles to the passage, but there was little to be made of it. It was of soft limestone, and most probably the portion that had disappeared was granite, carried away by the force of its own weight. We are like to be buried, I observed, returning to Harry and Desiree. Though for that matter even that can hardly frighten us now. For my part, said Harry, with a curious gravity beneath the apparent lightness of his words, I have always admired the death of porthos. Let it come and welcome. Are we to go further? put in Desiree. Just as Harry opened his mouth to reply, a more decisive answer came from another source. The rock that had fallen, obstructing the path of the Incas, must have left an opening that Harry had missed, or they had removed it, what matter. In some way they had forced a passage, for as Desiree spoke a dozen spears whistled through the air past our heads, and we looked up to see a swarm of Incas climbing and tumbling down the face of a boulder over which we had passed to reach our resting place. I have said that we had halted in a level, unbroken stretch that still led some distance ahead of us. At its farther end could be seen a group of rocks and boulders completely choking the lane. Beyond, other rocks arose to a still greater height. The way appeared to be impassable. But there was no time for deliberation or the weighing of chances, and we turned and made for the pile of rocks, with the Incas rushing after us. There Desiree and I halted in despair, but with a great oath Harry brushed us aside and leaped upon a rock higher than his head with incredible agility. Then, lying flat on his face and extending his arms downward over the edge, he pulled first Desiree, then myself up after him. The whole performance had occupied a scant two seconds, and waiting only to pick up the three spears he had thrown up the sloping surface of the rock to another yet higher and steeper. Why don't we hold them here? I demanded. They could never come up that rock with us on top. Harry looked at me. Spears, he said briefly, and of course he was right. They would have picked us off like birds on a limb. We scaled the second rock with extreme difficulty, Harry assisting both Desiree and me, and as we stood upright on its top I saw the Incas scrambling over the edge of the one below. Two or three of them had already started to cross. Many more were coming up from behind, and one, as he made the top and arose to his feet, braced himself on the sloping rock and raised a spear high above his head. At sight of him I started, crying to Harry and Desiree. They turned. The King, I shouted, and I saw a shudder of terror run over Desiree's face, as she too recognized the black form below. At the same instant the spear darted forward from the hand of the child of the sun, but it landed harmlessly against the rock several feet away. The next moment the Inca King had bounded across the rock toward us, followed by a score of others. I was minded to try my luck with his own weapon, but we had no spears to waste, and Harry was dragging Desiree forward and shouting to me to follow. I turned and ran after them, and just as we let ourselves down into a narrow crevice below the Incas appeared over the edge of the rock behind. Somehow we scrambled forward with the Incas at our heels. Sharp corners of projecting rocks bruised our faces and bodies. Once my leg bent double under me as I fell from a ledge onto a boulder below, and I thought it was broken. But Harry jerked me to my feet and I struggled on. Harry seemed possessed of the strength of ten men and the heart of a thousand. He pulled Desiree and me up and over boulders and rocks as though we had been feathers. The Lord knows how he got there himself. Half of the time he carried Desiree. The other half he supported me. His energy and exertions were titanic. Even in the desperate excitement of our retreat I found time to marvel at it. We did not gain an inch. Our pursuers kept close behind us, but we held our own. Now and then a stray spear came hurtling through the air or struck the rock near us, but they were infrequent and we were not hit. One, flying past my head, stuck in a crevice of the rock and I grasped the shaft to pull it out, but abandoned my effort when I heard Harry shouting to me from the front to come to his aid. He and Desiree were standing in the rim of a ledge that stood high above the ground of the passage. At its foot began a level stretch leading straight ahead as far as we could see. We must lift her down, Harry was saying. He let himself over the edge, hung by his hands, and dropped. All right! he called from below, and I lay flat on the rock while Desiree scrambled over the edge, holding to my hands. For a moment I held her suspended in my outstretched arms, then at a word from Harry I let her drop. Another moment and I was over myself, knocking Harry to the ground and tumbling on top of him as he stood beneath to break my fall. By then the Incas had reached the top of the ledge above us and returned and raced down the long stretch ahead. I was in front. Harry came behind with Desiree. Suddenly as I ran I felt a curious trembling of the ground beneath my feet, similar to the vibrations of a bridge at the passing of a heavy load. Then the ground actually swayed beneath me, and, realizing the danger, I sent a desperate shout to Harry over my shoulder and bounded forward. He was at my side on the instant with Desiree in his arms. The ground rocked beneath our feet like a ship in a storm. And just as I thought we were gone, my foot touched firm rock as I passed a yawning crevice a foot wide under me. One more leap to safety and we turned just in time to see the floor of the passage which we had just traversed disappear into some abyss beneath with a shattering roar. We stood at the very edge of the chasm, thus suddenly formed, gazing at each other in silent wonder and awe. The beggars are stopped now, said Harry, finally. That break in the game is ours. Looking back across the chasm we saw the ink as tumbling by twos and threes over the boulder on the other side. As they saw the yawning abyss that separated them from their prey, they stopped short and gazed across in profound astonishment. Others came to join them until there were several hundred of the black, ugly forms huddled together on the opposite rim of the chasm a hundred feet away. I ran over the group with a keen eye, seeking the figure of the Inker King, and soon my search was successful. He stood a step in front of the others, a little to the right. I pointed him out to Harry and Desiree. It's up to him to walk right out again, said Harry. Desiree shivered and proceeded to send her last invitation to the devil. Turning suddenly she grasped Harry's spear and tore it from his hand. Before we realized her purpose she stepped forward until her foot rested on the very edge of the chasm and had hurled the spear across, straight at the Inker King. It missed him, but struck another Inker standing near, full in the breast. Quick as lightning the King turned, grasped the shaft of the spear, and pulled it forth, and with his white teeth gleaming in a snarl of furious hate, sent it whistling through the air, straight at Desiree. Harry and I sprang forward with a shout of warning. Desiree stood motionless as a statue. We grasped her frantically and pulled her back, but too late. She came but only to fall lifeless into our arms with the spear buried deep in her white throat. We laid her on the ground and knelt beside her for a moment, then Harry arose to his feet with a face white as death. And I uttered a silent and vengeful prayer as I saw him level a spear at the Inker King across the chasm, but it went wide of its mark, striking the ground at his feet. There was another, cried Harry, and soon he had found it where it lay on the ground, and sent it too, hurtling her cross. This time he missed by inches. The spear flew just past the shoulder of the King, and caught one who stood behind him, full in the face. The stricken savage threw his arms spasmodically above his head, reeling forward against the King. There was a startled movement along the black line. Hands were outstretched in a vain effort at rescue. A savage cry burst from Harry's lips, and the next instant the King had toppled over the edge of the chasm and fallen into the bottomless pit below. Harry turned, quivering from head to foot. Little enough, he said between his teeth, and again he knelt beside the body of Desiree, and took her in his arms. But her fate spoke eloquently of our own danger, and I roused him to action. Together we picked up the form of our dead comrade and carried it to the rear. I hesitated to pull forth the barbed head of the spear, and instead broke off the shaft, leaving the point buried in the soft throat, from which a crimson line extended over the white shoulder. A short distance ahead we came to a projecting boulder, and behind that we gently laid her on the hard rock. Neither of us had spoken a word. Harry's lips were locked tightly together. A lump rose in my throat, choking all utterance and filling my eyes with tears. Harry knelt beside the white form, and, gathering it gently in his arms, held it against his breast. I stood at his side, gazing down at him in mute sympathy and sorrow. For a long minute there was silence, a most intense silence throughout the cavern, during which the painful throbbing of my heart was plainly audible. Then Harry murmured, in a voice of the utmost tenderness, Desiree! and again, Desiree! Desiree! Until I half expected the very strength and sweetness of his emotion to bring our comrade back to life. Suddenly, with a quick impulsive movement, he raised his head to glance at me. She loved you, he said. And though there was neither jealousy nor anger in his voice, somehow I could not meet his gaze. She loved you, he repeated, in a tone half of wonder. And you, you! I answered his eyes. She was yours, I said, with a touch of bitterness that persuaded him of the truth. All her beauty, all her loveliness, all her joy, her charm, to be buried. Ah, God help us! My voice broke, and I knelt on the ground beside Harry and pressed my lips to the white forehead and golden hair of what had been Lemire. Thus we remained for a long time. It was hard to believe that death had in reality taken possession of the still form stretched as in repose before us. Her body, still warm, seemed quivering with the instinct of life. But the eyes were not the eyes of Desiree. I closed them and arranged the tangled mass of hair as well as possible over her shoulders. As I did so, the air, set in motion by my hand, caused some of the golden strands to tremble gently across her lips. And Harry bent forward with a painful eagerness thinking that she had breathed. Dearest, he murmured, dearest, speak to me. His hand sought her a swelling bosom gropingly, and his eyes, as they looked pleadingly even into mine, shot into my heart and unnerved me. I rose to my feet, scarcely able to stand and moved away. But the fate that had finally intervened for us, too late alas, for one, did not leave us long with our dead. Even now I do not know what happened. At the time I knew even less. Harry told me afterward that the first shot came at the instant he had taken Desiree in his arms and pressed his lips to hers. I had crossed to the other side of the passage and was gazing back toward the chasm at the Incas on the other side, when again I felt the ground absolutely without warning tremble violently under my feet. At the same moment there was a low curious rumble as of the thundering of distant cannon. I sprang toward Harry with a cry of alarm, and had crossed about to the middle of the passage when a deafening roar smote my ear and the entire wall of the cavern appeared to be falling in upon us. At the same time the ground seemed to sink directly away beneath my feet, with an easy rocking motion as of a wave of the ocean. Then I felt myself plunging downward with a velocity that stunned my senses and took away my breath. Then all was confusion and chaos and oblivion. When I awoke I was lying flat on my back and Harry was kneeling at my side. I opened my eyes and felt that it would be impossible to make a greater exertion. Paul! cried Harry. Speak to me. Not you, too. I shall go mad. He told me afterward that I had lain unconscious for many hours, but that appeared to be all that he knew. How far we had fallen or how he had found me, or how he himself had escaped being crushed to pieces by the falling rock, he was unable to say. And I concluded that he, too, had been rendered unconscious by the fall and for some time dazed and bewildered by the shock. Well, we were alive. That was all. For we were weak and faint from hunger and fatigue, and one mass of bruises and blisters from head to foot. And we had had no water for something like twenty-four hours. Heaven only knows where we found the energy to rise and go in search of it. It is incredible that any creatures in such a pitiable and miserable condition as we were could have been propelled by hope unless it is indeed immortal. Half walking, half crawling, we went forward. The place where we had found ourselves was a jumbled mass of boulders and broken rock, but we soon discovered a passage, level and straight as any tunnel built by man. Down this we made our way. Every few feet we stopped to rest. Neither of us spoke a word. I really had no sense of any purpose in our progress. I crept on exactly as some animals, wounded to death, move on and on until there is no longer strength for another step when they lie down for the final breath. We saw no water nor promise of any. Nothing saved the long stretch of dim vista ahead and the grim black walls on either side. That, I think, for hours. It seemed to me then for years. I dragged one leg after the other with infinite effort and pain. Harry was ahead and sometimes, glancing back over his shoulder to find me at some distance behind, he would turn over and lie on his back till I approached. Then again to his knees and again forward. Neither of us spoke. Suddenly at a great distance down the passage, much further than I had been able to see before, I saw what appeared to be a white wall extending directly across our path. I called to Harry and pointed it out to him. He nodded vaguely as though in wonder that I should have troubled him about so slight an object of interest and crawled on. But the white wall became whiter still and soon I saw that it was not a wall. A wild hope surged through me. I felt the blood mount dizzily to my head and I stole the clamor that beat at my temples by an extreme effort of the will. It can't be, I said to myself aloud, over and over. It can't be. It can't be. Harry turned and his face was as white as when he had knelt by the body of Desiree and his eye was wild. You fool, he roared. It is! We went faster then. Another hundred yards and the thing was certain. There it was before us. We scrambled to our feet and tried to run. I reeled and fell, then picked myself up again and followed Harry, who had not even halted as I had fallen. The mouth of the passage was now but a few feet away. I reached Harry's side, blinking and stunned with amazement and the incredible wonder of it. I tried to shout, to cry aloud to the heavens, but a great lump in my throat choked me and my head was singing dizzily. Harry at my side was crying like a child, with great tears streaming down his face, as together we staggered forth from the mouth of the passage into the bright and dazzling sunshine of the Andes. Never, I believe, were misery and joy so curiously mingled in the human breast as when Harry and I stood barely able to stand, gazing speechlessly at the world that had so long been hidden from us. We had found the light but had lost Desiree. We were alive but so near to death that our first breath of the mountain air was like to be our last. The details of our painful journey down the mountain, over the rocks and crags, and through rushing torrents that more than once swept us from our feet, cannot be written, for I do not know them. The memory of the thing is but an indistinct nightmare of suffering. But the blind luck that seemed to have fallen over our shoulders as a protecting man to let the death of Desiree stayed with us. And after endless hours of incredible toil and labor we came to a narrow pass leading at right angles to our course. Night was ready to fall over the bleak and barren mountain as we entered it. Darkness had long since overtaken us when we saw at a distance a large clearing in the middle of which lights shown from the windows of a large house whose dim and shadowy outline appeared to us surrounded by a halo of peace. But we were nearly forced to fight for it. The proprietor of the Hacienda himself answered our none too gentle knock at the door, and he had no sooner caught sight of us than he let out a yell as though he had seen the devil in person and slammed the door violently in our faces. Indeed, we were hardly recognizable as men. Naked, black, bruised, and bleeding, covered with hair on our faces and parts of our bodies, mine of recent growth, stubby and stiff, our appearance would have justified almost any suspicion. But we hammered again on the door and I set forth our pedigree and plight in as few words as possible. Reassured, perhaps by my excellent Spanish, which could not, of course, be the tongue of the devil, and convinced by our pitiable condition of our inability to do him any harm, he at length reopened the door and gave us admittance. When we had succeeded in allaying his suspicions concerning our identity, though I was careful not to alarm his superstitions by mentioning the cave of the devil, which I thought was probably well known to him, he lost no time in displaying his humanity. Calling in some ombres from the rear of the Hacienda, he gave them ample instructions with medicine and food, and an hour later Harry and I were lying side by side in his own bed, a rude affair but infinitely better than granite, refreshed, bandaged, and as comfortable as their kindly ministrations could make us. The old Spaniard was a direct descendant of the Good Samaritan, despite the slight difference in nationality. For many weeks he nursed us and fed us and coaxed back the spark of life in our exhausted and wounded bodies. Our last ounce of strength seemed to have been used up in our desperate struggle down the side of the mountain. For many days we lay on our backs absolutely unable to move a muscle and barely conscious of life. But the spark revived and fluttered. The day came when we could hobble, with his assistance, to the door of the Hacienda and sit for hours in the invigorating sunshine, and thenceforward our convalescence proceeded rapidly. Color came to our cheeks and light to our eyes, and one sunny afternoon it was decided that we should set out for Cerro de Pasco on the following day. Harry proposed a postponement of our departure for two days, saying that he wished to make an excursion up the mountain. I understood him at once. It would be useless, I declared. You would find nothing. But she was with us when we fell, he persisted, not bothering to pretend that he did not understand me. She came. It must be near where we landed. That isn't it, I explained. Have you forgotten that we have been here for over a month? You would find nothing. As he grasped my thought, his face went white and he was silent. So, on the following morning, we departed. Our host furnished us with food, clothing, mules, and an ariero, not to mention a sorrowful farewell and a hearty blessing. From the door of the Hacienda he waved his sombrero as we disappeared around a bend in the mountain pass. We had perhaps been a welcome interruption in the monotony of his lonely existence. We were led upward for many miles until we found ourselves again in the region of perpetual snow. There we set our faces to the south. From the ariero we tried to learn how far we then were from the cave of the devil, but to our surprise were informed that he had never heard of the thing. We could see that the question made him more than a little suspicious of us. Often, when he thought himself unobserved, I caught him eyeing us a scance with something nearly approaching terror. We journeyed southward for eleven days. On the morning of the twelfth we saw below us our goal. Six hours later we had entered the same street of Cerro de Pasco through which we had passed formally with light hearts, and the heart which had been gayest of all we had left behind us, stilled forever, somewhere beneath the mountain of stone which she herself had chosen for her tomb. Almost the first person we saw was none other than Felipe, the ariero. He sat on the steps of the hotel portico as we rode up on our mules. Dismounting I caught sight of his white face and staring eyes, as he rose slowly to his feet, gazing at us as though fascinated. I opened my mouth to call to him, but before the words left my lips he had let out an ear-splitting yell of terror and bounded down the steps and passed us, with arms flying in every direction, running like one possessed. Nor did he return during the few hours that we remained at the hotel. Two days later found us boarding the yacht at Caleo. When I had discovered, to my profound astonishment at the Hacienda, that another year had taken us as far as the tenth day of March, I had greatly doubted if we should find Captain Harris still waiting for us. But there he was, and he had not even put himself to the trouble of becoming uneasy about us. As he himself put at that night in the cabin, over a bottle of wine, he didn't know but what the senora had decided to take the Andes home for a mantle ornament, and was engaged in the little matter of transportation. But when I informed him that the senora was no more, his face grew sober with genuine regret and sorrow. He had many good things to say of her then. It appeared that she had really touched his salty old heart. She was a gentle lady, said the worthy Captain, and I smiled to think how Desiree herself would have smiled at such a characterization of the great Lameer. We at once made for San Francisco. There, at a loss, I disposed of the remainder of the term of the lease on the yacht, and we took the first train for the east. Four days later we were in New York, after a journey saddened by thoughts of the one who had left us to return alone. It was, in fact, many months before the shadow of Desiree ceased to hover about the dark old mansion on Lower Fifth Avenue, in Congress enough among the ancient halls and portraits of Lamar's, dead and gone, in a day when Lamarana herself had darted like a meteor into the hearts of their contemporaries. That is, I suppose, properly the end of the story, but I cannot refrain from the opportunity to record a curious incident that has just befallen me. Some twenty minutes ago, as I was writing the last paragraph, I am seated in the library before a massive mahogany table close to a window through which the September sun sends its golden rays. Twenty minutes ago, as I say, Harry sauntered into the room and threw himself lazily into a large arm chair in the other side of the table. I looked up with a nod of greeting while he sat and eyed me impatiently for some seconds. Aren't you coming with me down to Southampton? he asked, finally. What time do you leave? I inquired without looking up. 11.30. What's on? Freddie Marston's crocodiles and the blues. It's going to be some polo. I considered a moment. Why, I guess I'll run down with you. I'm about through here. Good enough! Harry arose to his feet and began idly fingering some of the sheets on the table before me. What is all this silly rot, anyway? My dear boy, I smiled. You'll be sorry you called it silly rot when I tell you that it is a plain and honest tale of our own experiences. Must be deuced interesting, he observed, more silly rot than ever. Others may not think so. I retorted, a little exasperated by his manner. It surely will be sufficiently exciting to read of how we were buried with Desiree Lemire under the Andes and our encounters with the Incas and our final escape and— Desiree what? Harry interrupted. Desiree Lemire, I replied very distinctly, the great French dancer. Never heard of her, said Harry, looking at me as if he doubted my sanity. Never heard of Desiree, the woman you loved? I almost shouted at him. The woman I—piffle! I say I never heard of her. I gazed at him, trembling with high indignation. I suppose, I observed with infinite sarcasm, that you will tell me next that you have never been in Peru? Guilty, said Harry, I never have. And that you never climbed Pike's Peak to see the sunrise? Rowaway, New Jersey, is my farthest west. And that you never dived with me from the top of a column, one hundred feet high? Not I. I retain a smattering of common sense. And that you did not avenge the death of Desiree by causing that of the Inca king? So far as that Desiree woman is concerned, said Harry, and his tone began to show impatience, I can only repeat that I have never heard of the creature. And, he continued, if you're trying to bamboozle a gullible world by concocting a tale as silly as your remarks to me would seem to indicate, I will say that you are taking undue liberties with your family, meaning myself. And what is more, if you dare to print the stuff, I'll let the world know it's a rank fake. This threat, delivered with the most awful resolution and sincerity, unnerved me completely and I fell back in my chair in a swoon. When I recovered, Harry had gone to his polo game, leaving me behind, whereupon I seized my pen and hastened to set down in black and white that most remarkable conversation that the reader may judge for himself between us. For my part, I do swear that the story is true, on my word of honor as a cynic and a philosopher. End of chapter 24. Recording by Roger Maline. End of Under the Andes by Rex Stout.