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Richard M. Stallman - "The Right to Read"

Arthur Conan Doyle - "The Adventures of Gerard"

H. G. Wells - "The New Machiavelli "

William Dobein James. - "A Sketch of the Life of Brig. Gen. Francis Marion"

Under the Andes

R >> Rex Stout >> Under the Andes




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 repetition, 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.

I ran to the figure on the floor and bent over him. There was no
movement--his eyes were closed. Calling to Harry to watch the
corridor without, I quickly tore my woolen jacket into strips--my
fingers seemed to be made of steel--and bound the wrists and
ankles of the Inca firmly, trussing him up behind.

Then with another strip I gagged him, thinking it best to err on
the side of prudence. In another moment I had dragged him to the
corner of the room behind the granite couch and covered him with
its hide-cover.

Then I turned to Harry:

"Is the coast clear?"

"Yes," he answered from the doorway.

"Then here--quick, man! Get the clubs and the grub.
Desiree--come! There's not a second to lose."

"But, Paul--" she began; then, seeing the utter folly of any
other course than instant flight, she sprang to Harry's side to
assist him with the bundles of provisions.

There was more than we could carry. Harry and I each took a
bundle under our left arm, carrying the clubs in the other hand.
Desiree attempted to take two bundles, but they were too heavy
for her, and she was forced to drop one.

With a last hasty glance at the motionless heap in the corner we
started, Harry leading and myself in the rear, with Desiree
between us.

But it was not to be so easy. We were nearly to the door when
there came a grating, rumbling sound from above, and a huge block
of granite dropped squarely across the doorway with a crash that
made the ground tremble beneath our feet.

Stupefied, we realized in a flash that the cunning of the Incas
had proved too much for us. Harry and I ran forward, but only to
invite despair; the doorway was completely covered by the massive
rock, an impenetrable curtain of stone weighing many tons, and on
neither side was there an opening more than an inch wide. We were
imprisoned beyond all hope of escape.

We stood stunned; Desiree even made no sound, but gazed at the
blocked doorway in a sort of stupid wonder. It was one of those
sudden and overwhelming catastrophes that deprive us for a moment
of all power to reason or even to realize.

Then Harry said quietly:

"Well, the game's up."

And Desiree turned to me with the calm observation:

"They must have been watching us. We were fools not to have
known it."

"Impossible!" Harry asserted; but I agreed with Desiree; and
though I could see no opening or crevice of any sort in the walls
or ceiling, I was convinced that even then the eyes of the Incas
were upon us.

Our situation was indeed desperate. With our every movement
spied upon, surrounded by four solid walls of stone, and beyond
them ten thousand savage brutes waiting to tear us to
pieces--what wildest fancy could indulge in hope?

Then, glancing up, my eye was arrested by the heap under the
cover in the corner. There, in the person of the Inca king, lay
our only advantage. But how could we use it?

Desiree's voice came in the calm tones of despair:

"We are lost."

Harry crossed to her and took her in his arms.

"I thank Heaven," he said, "that you are with us." Then he
turned to me: "I believe it is for the best, Paul. There never
was a chance for us; we may as well say it now. And it is better
to die here, together, than--the other way."

I smiled at his philosophy, knowing its source. It came not from
his own head, but from Desiree's arms. But it was truth.

We sat silent. The thing was beyond discussion; too elemental to
need speech for its explanation or understanding. I believe it
was not despair that kept back our words, but merely the dumb
realization that where all hope is gone words are useless--worse,
a mockery.

Finally I crossed the room and removed the cover from the body of
the Child of the Sun. He had recovered consciousness; his little
wicked eyes gleamed up at me with an expression that would have
been terrifying in the intensity of its malignant hatred if he
had not been utterly helpless. I turned to Harry:

"What are we going to do with him?"

"By Jove, I had forgotten!" exclaimed the lad. "Paul, perhaps if
we could communicate with them--" He stopped, glancing at the
closed doorway; then added: "But it's impossible."

"I believe it is possible," I contradicted. "If the Incas were
able to lower that stone at any moment you may be sure they are
prepared to raise it. How, Heaven only knows; but the fact is
certain. Do you think they would have condemned their precious
king to starvation?"

"Then the king can save us!"

"And how?"

"Our lives for his. We'll give him nothing to eat, and if, as
you say, they have some way of watching us, they'll be forced to
negotiate. You can talk with the quipos, and tell them that
unless they give us our freedom and let us go in safety they'll
have a dead king. From the way they seem to worship him they'd
come through in a minute."

"Oh, they'd promise, all right," I agreed; "but how could we hold
them to it?"

"Well, a promise is a promise. And it's our only chance."

"No, Harry; to trust them would be folly. The minute we stepped
through that doorway they would be on us--the whole beggarly,
smelly lot of them."

"Then there is no chance--none whatever?" put in Desiree.

"None. We may as well admit the worst. And the worst is best
for us now. Really, we are in luck; we die in our own way and at
our own time. But there is one difficulty."

Then, in answer to their glances of inquiry, I added
significantly: "We have no weapons. We cannot allow ourselves to
starve--the end must come before that, for as soon as they saw us
weakening we would be at their mercy."

There was comprehension and horror in Desiree's eyes, but she
looked at me with a brave attempt to smile as she took from her
hair something which gleamed and shone in the light from the
flaming urns. It was a tiny steel blade with a handle of pearl
studded with diamonds.

I had seen it before many times--a present, Desiree had told me,
from the young man I had seen in the royal coach on that day in
Madrid when I had first heard the name of Le Mire.

"Will that do?" she asked calmly, holding it out to me with a
firm hand.

Brave Le Mire! I took the dagger and placed it in my pocket,
and, looking at Harry, exchanged with him a nod of understanding.
No words were necessary.

"But I must confess I am a coward," said Desiree. "When the time
comes I--I could not bear to see--to wait--"

I looked at her and said simply: "You shall be first," and she
gave me a smile of thanks that spoke of a heart that would not
fail when the final moment arrived. And in my admiration of her
high courage I forgot the horror of the task that must be mine.

It was a relief to have admitted the worst and discussed it
calmly; there is no torment like suspense, and ours was at an
end. A load was lifted from our hearts, and a quiet sympathy
created between us, sincere as death itself. And it was in our
power to choose for ourselves the final moment--we were yet
masters of our fates.

All action seems useless when hope is dead, but certain things
needed to be done, and Harry and I bestirred ourselves. We
extinguished the flame in all the urns but one to save the oil,
not caring to depart in darkness.

Our supply of water, we found, was quite sufficient to last for
several days, if used sparingly; for we intended to support life
so long as we had the fuel. Then responsibility ceases; man has a
right to hasten that which fortune has made inevitable.

The hours passed by.

We talked very little; at times Desiree and Harry conversed in
subdued tones which I did not overhear; I was engaged with my own
thoughts. And they were not unpleasant; if, looking death in the
face, a man can preserve his philosophy unchanged, he has made
the only success in life that is worth while.

We ate and drank, but gave neither water nor food to our fellow
prisoner. Not because I really expected to force negotiations
with the Incas--but the thing was possible and was worth a trial.
I knew them well enough to appraise correctly the value of any
safe-conduct they might give us.

I was a little surprised to find in Desiree no levity, the vulgar
prop for courage based on ignorance. There was a tenderness in
her manner, especially toward Harry, that spoke of something
deeper and awoke in my own breast a deeper respect for her. The
world had not known Desiree Le Mire--it had merely been
fascinated and amused by her.

Many hours had passed in this tomblike apathy. Two or three
times I had advised Desiree to lie down to rest and, if possible,
to sleep. She had refused, but I became insistent, and Harry
added his voice to my own. Then, to please us, she consented; we
arranged the cover on the granite couch and made her as
comfortable as possible.

In five minutes she was fast asleep. Harry stood a few feet away
from the couch, looking down at her. I spoke to him, in a low
tone:

"And you must rest too, Hal. One of us must remain on watch;
I'll take it first and call you when I feel drowsy. It may be a
needless precaution, but I don't care to wake up and find myself
in the condition of our friend yonder."

He wanted to take the first watch himself, but I insisted, and he
arranged our ponchos on the ground, and soon he too was sleeping
easily and profoundly. I looked from him to Desiree with a smile,
and reflection that Socrates himself could not have met
misfortune with more sublime composure.

It was possible that the stone curtain across the doorway could
be raised noiselessly, and that made it necessary to keep my eyes
fastened on it almost continuously. This became irksome; besides,
twice I awoke to the fact that my thoughts had carried me so far
away from my surroundings that the stone could have been raised
to the roof and I would not have noticed it.

So, using my jacket for a cushion, I seated myself on the ground
in the threshold, leaning my back against the stone, and gave
myself up to meditation.

I had sat thus for three hours or more, and was thinking of
calling Harry to relieve me, when I felt a movement at my back. I
turned quickly and saw that the stone was moving upward.

Slowly it rose, by little frequent jerks, not more than an eighth
of an inch at a time. In fifteen minutes it was only about four
inches from the ground. There was no sound save a faint grating
noise from above.

I stood several feet away, holding one of the golden clubs in my
hand, thinking it unnecessary to rouse Harry until the space was
wide enough to cause apprehension. Or rather, because I had no
fear of an assault--I was convinced that our ruse had succeeded,
and that they were about to communicate with us by means of the
quipos.

The stone was raised a little over a foot, then became
stationary. I waited, expecting to see a bundle of quipos thrust
through the opening, but they did not appear.

Instead, five golden vessels were pushed across the ground until
they were inside, clear of the stone; I could see the black,
hairy hands and arms, which were immediately withdrawn.

Then the granite curtain fell with a crash that caused me to
start with its suddenness and awakened both Harry and Desiree.

Two of the vessels contained water, two oil, and the other dried
fish. Harry, who had sprung to his feet excitedly, grumbled in
disgust.

"At least, they might have sent us some soup. But what's their
idea?"

"It means that Desiree was right," I observed. "They have some
way of watching us. And, seeing that we refused to provide their
beloved monarch with provender, they have sent him an allowance
from the pantry."

Harry grinned.

"Will he get it?"

"Hardly," said I with emphasis. "We'll make 'em treat with us if
it's only to observe their diplomacy. There'll be a message from
them within twenty-four hours. You'll see."

"Anyway, we know now that they can raise that stone whenever they
feel like it. But in the name of Archimedes, how?"

He advanced to the doorway and examined the block of granite
curiously, but there was no clue to its weight or thickness from
the inside. I explained that there were several ways by which the
thing could be raised, but that the most probable one was by
means of a rolling pulley, which required merely some rounded
stones and a flat surface above, with ropes of hide for stays.

It had been several hours since we had last eaten, and we decided
to at once convey to the spies without our intentions concerning
our prisoner. So we regaled ourselves with dried fish and water,
taking care not to approach the king, who had rolled over on his
side and lay facing us, looking for all the world, in the dim
light, like a black dog crouched on the floor.

Harry relieved me at my post against the door, and I lay down to
sleep. Desiree had seated herself beside him, and the low tones
of their voices came to me as I lay on the couch (which Desiree
had insisted I should occupy) in an indistinct, musical murmur.
This for perhaps ten minutes; then I slept.

That became our routine. During the many weary hours that
followed there was never a moment when one of us was not seated
with his back against the stone across the doorway; we dared not
trust our eyes. Usually Harry and Desiree watched together, and,
when I relieved them, slept side by side on the couch.

Sometimes, when we were all awake, Desiree was left on guard
alone; but Harry and I were never both asleep at the same time.

An estimate of the time we spent thus would be the wildest guess,
for time was heavy and passed on leaden feet. But I should say we
had been imprisoned for something like four days, possibly five,
when the monotony came to an abrupt end.

I had come off watch, and Harry and Desiree had taken my place.
Before I lay down I had taken some water to the prisoner, for we
had some time before admitted the necessity of giving him drink.
But of food he had had none.

Harry told me afterward that I had slept for two or three hours,
but it seemed to me rather as many minutes, when I was awakened
by the sound of his voice calling my name. Glancing at the
doorway, I sprang to my feet.

The stone was slowly rising from the floor; already there was a
space of a foot or more. Desiree and Harry stood facing it in
silence.

"You have seen nothing?" I asked, joining them.

"Nothing," said Harry. "Here, take one of these clubs.
Something's up."

"Of course--the stone," I observed facetiously, yawning.
"Probably nothing more important than a bundle of quipos. Lord,
I'm sleepy!"

Still the stone moved upward, very slowly. It reached a height
of two feet, yet did not halt.

"This is no quipos" said Harry, "or if it is, they must be going
to send us in a whole library. Six inches would have been enough
for that."

I nodded, keeping my eyes on the ever-widening space at our feet.

"This means business, Hal. Stand ready with your club. Desiree,
go to the further corner, behind that seat."

She refused; I insisted; she stamped her foot in anger.

"Do you think I'm a child, to run and hide?" she demanded
obstinately.

I wasted no time in argument.

"You will go", I said sternly, "or I shall carry you and tie you.
This is not play. We must have room and know that you are safe."

To my surprise, she made no reply, but quietly obeyed. Then,
struck by a sudden thought, I crossed to where she stood behind a
stone seat in the corner.

"Here," I said in a low tone, taking the little jeweled dagger
from my pocket and holding it out to her, "in case--"

"I understand," she said simply, and her hand closed over the
hilt.

By that time the stone was half-way to the top of the doorway,
leaving a space over three feet high, and was still rising. I
stood on one side and Harry on the other, not caring to expose
ourselves immediately in front.

Suddenly he left his post and ran to one of the stone seats and
began prying at the blocks of granite. I saw at once his
intention and our mistake; we should have long before barricaded
the door on the inside. But it was too late now; I knew from
experience the difficulty of loosening those firmly wedged
blocks, and I called out:

"No good, Hal. We were fools not to have thought of it before,
but there is no time for it now. Come back; I couldn't stop 'em
alone."

Nevertheless, he continued his exertions, and succeeded in
getting one of the blocks partially free; but by that time the
doorway was almost completely uncovered, and he saw the folly of
attempting further.

He resumed his post on the right of the door--I was on the left.

The stone appeared to be going faster. It reached the top--
passed it--and quickly swung in toward the wall and disappeared,
probably to rest on a ledge above.

We stood waiting, tense and alert. The open doorway gaped on the
black, empty corridor, into which the light from our single urn
shone dimly. We could see or hear nothing, no indication that any
one was in the passage, but we dared not look out in that
darkness. The suspense was trying enough; Harry ripped out an
impatient oath and made a movement as though to step in the
entrance, but I waved him back.

Then came the avalanche, with a suddenness and fury that nigh
overwhelmed us.

Crouching, rushing forms filled the doorway from both directions
and leaped savagely at us. After so many weary days of dull
inaction and helpless, hopeless apathy, a mad joy fired my brain
and thrilled my heart as I raised my club on high and struck a
blow for freedom and life.

That blow crushed the skull of one whose fingers were at my
throat, and he dropped like a log at my feet; but his place was
already filled. Again I swung the club; another swayed, toppling
against the doorway and leaning there with the blood streaming
from his broken head, quite dead, but held erect by the pressure
of his fellows from behind.

If the doorway had been but a foot wider we would have been
overwhelmed almost instantly. As it was, but three or four could
get to us at once, and they found the gold which their ancestors
had carried from the temples of Huanuco waiting for them. My arm
seemed to have the strength of a hundred arms; it swung the heavy
club as though it had been a feather, and with deadly accuracy.

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