by Rex Stout
Chapter X.
THE VERDICT.
For many seconds we stood bewildered, too dazed to speak or move. Thelight dazzled our eyes; we seemed surrounded by an impenetrable wall offlame. There was no sensation of heat, owing, no doubt, to the immenseheight of the cavern and our comparatively distant removal from theflames, which mounted upward in narrow tongues.
Then the details began to strike me.
I have said the scene was the same as that we had previously beheld.Round the walls of the immense circular cavern squatted innumerablerows of the Incas on terraced seats.
Below, at a dizzy distance, was the smooth surface of the lake, blackand gloomy save where the reflections from the blazing urns pierced itsdepths. And directly facing us, set in the wall of the cavern, was thealcove containing the throne of gold.
And on the throne was seated--not the diminutive, misshapen king, butDesiree Le Mire!
She sat motionless, gazing directly at us. Her long gold hair streamedover her shoulders in magnificent waves; a stiffly flowing garment ofsome unknown texture covered her limbs and the lower part of her body;her shoulders and breasts and arms were bare, and shone with a dazzlingwhiteness.
Beside her was a smaller seat, also of gold, and on this crouched theform of an Inca--the king. About them, at a respectful distance, wereranged attendants and guards--a hundred or more, for the alcove was ofan impressive size. The light from the four urns shone in upon it withsuch brightness that I could clearly distinguish the whites ofDesiree's eyes.
All this I saw in a single flash, and I turned to Harry:
"Not a word, on your life! This is Desiree's game; trust her to playit."
"But what the deuce is she doing there?"
I shrugged my shoulders.
"She seems to have found another king. You know her fondness forroyalty."
"Paul, for Heaven's sake--"
"All right, Hal. But we're safe enough, I think. Most probably ourintroduction to court. This is what they call 'the dizzy heights ofprominence.' Now keep your eyes open--something is going to happen."
There was a movement in the alcove. Four of the attendants cameforward, carrying a curious framework apparently composed of reeds andleather, light and flexible, from the top bar of which hung suspendedseveral rope-like ribbons, of various lengths and colors and tied incurious knots. They placed it on the ground before the double throne,at the feet of Desiree.
All doubt was then removed from my mind concerning the identity of ourcaptors and their king. For these bundles of knotted cords ofdifferent sizes and colors I recognized at once.
They were the famous Inca quipos--the material for their remarkablemnemonic system of communication and historical record. At last wewere to receive a message from the Child of the Sun.
But of what nature? Every cord and knot and color had its meaning--butwhat? I searched every avenue of memory to assist me; for I hadlatterly confined my studies exclusively to Eastern archeology, andwhat I had known of the two great autochthonous civilizations of theAmerican Continent was packed in some dim and little used corner of mybrain. But success came, with an extreme effort.
I recollected first the different disposition of the quipos fordifferent purposes--historical, sacred, narrative, et cetera. Then theparticulars came to me, and immediately I recognized the formula of thequipos before the throne. They were arranged for adjudication--for therendering of a verdict.
Harry and I were prisoners before the bar of the quipos! I turned tohim, but there was not time for talk. The king had risen and stretchedout his hand.
Immediately the vast assemblage rose from their stone seats and fellflat on their faces. It was then that I noticed, for the first time,an oval or elliptical plate of shining gold set in the wall of thecavern just above the outer edge of the alcove.
This, of course, was the representation of Pachacamac, the "unknowngod" in the Inca religion. Well, I would as soon worship a plate ofgold as that little black dwarf.
For perhaps a minute the king stood with outstretched arm and the Incasremained motionless on their faces. Then he resumed his seat and theyrose. And then the trial began.
The king turned on his throne and laid his hand on Desiree's arm; wecould see her draw away from his touch with an involuntary shudder.But this apparent antipathy bothered his kingship not at all; it wasprobably a most agreeable sensation to feel her soft, white flesh underhis black, hairy hand, and he kept it there, while with the other armhe made a series of sweeping gestures which I understood at once, butwhich had no meaning for Desiree. By her hand he meant the quipos tospeak.
We had a friend in court, but she was dumb, and I must give her voice.There was no time to be lost; I stepped to the edge of the column andspoke in a voice loud enough to carry across the cavern--which was notdifficult in the universal silence.
"He means that you are to judge us by the quipos. The meaning isthis--yellow, slavery, white, mercy; purple, reward; black, death. Thelengths of the cords and the number of knots indicate the degree ofpunishment or reward. Attached to the frame you will find a knife.With that detach the cord of judgment and lay it at the feet of theking."
Again silence; and not one of the vast throng, nor the king himself,appeared to pay the slightest attention to my voice. The kingcontinued his gestures to Desiree.
She rose and walked to the frame of quipos and took in her hand theknife which she found there suspended by a cord. There she hesitated,with the knife poised in the air, while her eyes sought mine--and foundthem.
I felt a tug at my arm, but I had no time for Harry then. I waslooking at Desiree, and what I saw caused a cold shudder to flutterthrough my body. Not of fear; it was the utter surprise of thething--its incredible horror. To die by the hands of those hairybrutes was not hard, but Desiree to be the judge!
For she meant death for us; I read it in her eyes. One of the oldstale proverbs of the stale old world was to have anotherjustification. I repeat that I was astounded, taken completely bysurprise; and yet I had known something of "the fury of a womanscorned."
It was as though our eyes shot out to meet each other in an embrace ofdeath. She saw that I understood and she smiled--what a smile! It wastriumphant, and yet sad; a vengeance, and a farewell. She put forthher hand.
It wavered among the quipos as though uncertainly, then closed firmlyon the black cord of death.
A thought flashed through my mind with the speed of lightning. Iraised my voice and sang out:
"Desiree!"
She hesitated; the hand which held the knife fell to her side and againher eyes sought mine.
"What of Harry?" I called. "Take two--the white for him, the black forme."
She shook her head and again raised the knife; and I played my lastcard.
"Bah! Who are you? For you are not Le Mire!" I weighted my voice withcontempt. "Le Mire is a child of fortune, but not of hell!"
At last she spoke.
"I play a fair hand, monsieur!" she cried, and her voice trembled.
"With marked cards!" I exclaimed scornfully. "The advantage is yours,madame; may you find pleasure in it."
There was a silence, while our eyes met. I thought I had lost. LeMire stood motionless. Not a sound came from the audience. I feltHarry pulling at my arm, but shook myself free, without taking my eyesfrom Le Mire's face.
Suddenly she spoke:
"You are right, my friend Paul. I take no advantage. Leave it toFortune. Have you a coin?"
I had won my chance. That was all--a chance--but that was better thannothing. I took a silver peseta from my pocket--by luck it had notbeen lost--and held it in the air above my head.
"Heads!" cried Desiree.
I let the coin fall. It rolled half-way across the top of the columnand stopped at the very edge. I crossed and stooped over it. It layheads up!
Harry was behind me; as I straightened up I saw his white, set face andeyes of horror. He, too, had seen the verdi
ct; but he was moved not bythat, but by the thought of Desiree, for Harry was not a man to flinchat sight of death.
I stood straight, and my voice was calm. It cost me an effort to clearit of bitterness and reproach. I could not avoid the reflection thatbut for Desiree we would never have seen the cave of the devil and theChildren of the Sun; but I said simply and clearly:
"You win, madame."
Desiree stared at me in the most profound surprise. I understood her,and I laughed scornfully aloud, and held my head high; and I think avoice never held so complete a disdain as did mine as I called to her:
"I am one who plays fair, even with death, Le Mire. The coin fellheads--you win your black cord fairly."
She made no sign that she had heard; she was raising the knife.Suddenly she stopped, again her hand fell, and she said:
"You say the purple for reward, Paul?"
I nodded--I could not speak. Her hand touched the white cord andpassed on; the yellow, and again passed on. Then there was a flash ofthe knife--another--and she approached the king and laid at his feetthe purple cord.
Then, without a glance toward us, she resumed her seat on the goldenthrone.
A lump rose to my throat and tears to my eyes. Which was very foolish,for the thing had been completely theatrical. It was merely a tributefrom one of nature's gamblers to the man who "played fair, even withdeath"; nevertheless, there was feeling in it, and the eternal mercy ofwoman.
For all that was visible to the eye the verdict made not the slightestimpression on the rows of silent Incas. Not a movement was seen; theymight have been carved from the stone on which they were seated.
Their black, hairy bodies, squat and thick, threw back the light fromthe flaming torches as though even those universal rays could notpenetrate such grossness.
Suddenly they rose--the king had moved. He picked the purple cord fromthe ground, and, after passing his hand over it three times, handed itto an attendant who approached.
Then he stretched out his hand, and the Incas, who had remainedstanding, turned about and began to disappear. As before, the cavernwas emptied in an incredibly short space of time; in two minutes wewere alone with those in the alcove.
There was a sound behind us. We turned and saw a great slab of stoneslowly slide to one side in the floor, leaving an aperture some threefeet square. Evidently it had been closed behind us when we hadascended; we had had no time to notice it then. In this hole presentlyappeared the head and shoulders of our guide, who beckoned to us tofollow and then disappeared below.
I started to obey, but turned to wait for Harry, who was gazing atDesiree. His back was toward me and I could not see his face; his eyesmust have held an appeal, for I saw Desiree's lips part in a smile andheard her call:
"You will see me!"
Then he joined me, and we began the descent together.
I found myself wondering how these half-civilized brutes had possiblymanaged to conceive the idea of the spiral stair. It was known toneither the Aztecs nor the Incas, in America; nor to any of theprimitive European or Asiatic civilizations. But they had found aplace where nothing else would do--and they made it. Another of theinnumerable offspring of Mother Necessity.
I took time to note its construction. It was rude enough, but a goodjob for all that. It was not exactly circular; there were many angles,evidently following the softer strata in the rock; they had bowed totheir material--the way of the artist.
Even the height of the steps was irregular; some were scarcely morethan three inches, while others were twelve or fourteen. You may knowwe descended slowly and with care, especially when we had reached thepoint where no light came from above to aid us. We found our guidewaiting for us at the bottom, alone.
We followed him down the low and narrow passage through which we hadpreviously come. But when we reached the steps which led up to thepassage above and to the cave where we had formerly been confined, heignored them and turned to the right. We hesitated.
"He's alone," said Harry. "Shall we chuck the beggar?"
"We shall not, for that very reason," I answered. "It means that weare guests instead of captives, and far be it from us to outrage thelaws of hospitality. But seriously, the safest thing we can do is tofollow him."
The passage in which we now found ourselves was evidently no work ofnature. Even in the semidarkness the mark of man's hand was apparent.And the ceiling was low; another proof, for dwarfs do not build for theaccommodation of giants. But I had some faint idea of the pitifulinadequacy of their tools, and I found myself reflecting on thestupendous courage of the men who had undertaken such a task, evenallowing for the fact that four hundred years had been allowed them forits completion.
Soon we reached a veritable maze of these passages. We must have takena dozen or more turns, first to the right, then to the left. I hadbeen marking our way on my memory as well as possible, but I soon gaveup the attempt as hopeless.
Several times our guide turned so quickly that we could scarcely followhim. When we signified by gestures our desire to go slower he seemedsurprised; of course, he expected us to see in the dark as well as he.
Then a dim light appeared, growing brighter as we advanced. Soon I sawthat it came through an opening in the wall to our left, which we wereapproaching. Before the opening the guide halted, motioning us toenter.
We did so, and found ourselves in an apartment no less than royal.
Several blazing urns attached to the walls furnished the light,wavering but brilliant. There were tables and rude seats, fashionedfrom the same prismatic stones which covered the column in the lake,and from their surfaces a thousand points of color shone dazzlingly.
At one side was a long slab of granite covered with the skins of someanimal, dry, thick, and soft. The walls themselves were of the hardestgranite, studded to a height of four or five feet with tiny,innumerable spots of gold.
Harry crossed to the middle of the apartment and stood gazing curiouslyabout him. I turned to the door and looked down the outer passage inboth directions--our guide had disappeared.
"We appear to be friends of the family," said Harry with a grin.
"Thanks to Desiree, yes."
"Thanks to the devil! What did she mean--what could she mean? Was itone of her jokes? For I can't believe that she would--would--"
"Have sent us to death? Well--who knows? Yes, it may have been one ofher jokes," I lied.
For, of course, Harry knew nothing of the cause of Desiree's desire forrevenge on me, and it would have served no good purpose to tell him.
We talked for an hour or more, examining our apartment meanwhile withconsiderable curiosity.
The gold excited our wonder; had it come from Huanuco four hundredyears ago, or had they found it here in the mountain?
I examined the little blocks of metal or gems with which the tables andseats were inlaid, but could make nothing of them. They resembled acarbon formation sometimes found in quartzite, but were many times morebrilliant than anything I had ever seen, excepting precious stones.
The hides which covered the granite couch were also unknown to me; theywere of an amazing thickness and incredibly soft.
We were amusing ourselves with an attempt to pry one of the bits ofgold from the wall when we heard a sound behind us.
We turned and saw Desiree.
She stood in the entrance, smiling at us as though we had been caughtin her boudoir examining the articles on her dressing-table. She wasclothed as she had been on the throne; a rope girdle held her singlegarment, and her hair fell across her shoulders, reaching to her knees.Her arms and shoulders appeared marvelously white, but they may havebeen by way of contrast.
Harry sprang across to her with a single bound. In another moment hisarms were round her; she barely submitted to the embrace, but she gavehim her lips, then drew herself away and crossed to me, extending herhands in a sort of wavering doubt.
But that was no time for hostilities, and I took the hand
s in my ownand bent over them till my lips touched the soft fingers.
"A visit from the queen!" I said with a smile. "This is an honor, yourmajesty."
"A doubtful one," said Desiree. "First of all, my friend, I want tocongratulate you on your savoir faire. Par Bleu, that was the part ofa man!"
"But you!" cried Harry. "What the deuce did you mean by pretending toplay the black? I tell you, that was a shabby trick. Most unpleasantmoment you gave us."
Desiree sent me a quick glance; she was plainly surprised to find Harryin ignorance of what had passed between us that evening in the camp onthe mountain. Wherein she was scarcely to be blamed, for her surprisecame from a deep knowledge of the ways of men.
"I am beginning to know you, Paul," she said, looking into my eyes.
"Now what's up?" demanded Harry, looking from her to me and back again."For Heaven's sake, don't talk riddles. What does that mean?"
But Desiree silenced him with a gesture, placing her fingers playfullyon his lips. They were seated side by side on the granite couch; Istood in front of them, and there flitted across my memory a picture ofthat morning scene in the grounds of the Antlers at Colorado Springs,when Desiree and I had had our first battle.
We talked; or, rather, Harry and Desiree talked, and I listened. Firsthe insisted on a recital of her experiences since her reckless dashinto the "cave of the devil," and she was most obliging, even eager,for she had had no one to talk to for many days, and she was a woman.She found in Harry a perfect audience.
Her experience had been much the same as our own. She, too, had fallendown the unseen precipice into the torrent beneath.
She asserted that she had been carried along by its force scarcely morethan a quarter of an hour, and had been violently thrown upon a ledgeof rock. It was evident that this must have been long before thestream reached the lake where Harry and I had found each other, for wehad been in the water hardly short of an hour.
She had been found on the ledge by our hairy friends, who had carriedher on their backs for many hours. I remembered the sensations ofHarry and myself, who were men, and together, and gave a shudder ofsympathy as Desiree described her own horror and fear, and her oneattempt to escape.
Still the brutes had shown her no great violence, evidently recognizingthe preciousness of their burden. They had carried her as gently aspossible, but had absolutely refused to allow her to walk. At regularintervals they gave her an opportunity to rest, and food and water.
"Dried fish?" I asked hopefully.
Desiree nodded, with a most expressive grimace, and Harry burst intolaughter.
Then of the elevation to her evident authority. Brought before theking, she had inspired the most profound wonder and curiosity. Easy,indeed, to understand how the whiteness of her skin and the beauty ofher form and face had awakened the keenest admiration in the breast ofthat black and hairy monarch. He had shown her the most perfectrespect; and she had played up to the role of goddess by displaying tothe utmost her indifferent contempt for royalty and its favors.
Here her remarks grew general and evasive, and when pressed withquestions she refused details. She declared that nothing had happened;she had been fed and fawned upon, nor been annoyed by any violence orunwelcome attentions.
"That is really too bad," said I, with a smile. "I was, then, mistakenwhen I said 'your majesty'?"
"Faugh!" said Desiree. "That is hardly witty. For a time I wasamused, but I am becoming bored. And yet--"
"Well?"
"I--don't--know. They are mine, if you know what I mean. Eh, bien,since you ask me--for I see the question in your eye, friend Paul--I amcontent. If the world is behind me forever, so be it. Yes, they areunattractive to the eye, but they have power. And they worship me."
"Desiree!" cried Harry in astonishment; and I was myself a littlestartled.
"Why not?" she demanded. "They are men. And besides, it is impossiblefor us to return. With all your cleverness, M. Paul, can you find thesunlight? To remain is a necessity; we must make the best of it; and Irepeat that I am satisfied."
"That's bally rot," said Harry, turning on her hotly. "Satisfied? Youare nothing of the sort. I'll tell you one thing--Paul and I are goingto find our way out of this, and you are coming with us."
For reply Desiree laughed at him--a laugh that plainly said, "I am myown mind, and obey no other." It is one of the most familiar cards ofthe woman of beauty, and the most effective. It conquered Harry.
He gazed at her for a long moment in silence, while his eyes filledwith an expression which one man should never show to another man. Itis the betrayal of the masculine sex and the triumph of the feminine.
Suddenly he threw himself on his knees before her and took her hands inhis own. She attempted to withdraw them; he clasped her about thewaist.
"Do you not love me, Desiree?" he cried, and his lips sought hers.
They met; Desiree ceased to struggle.
At that moment I heard a sound--the faintest sound--behind me.
I turned.
The king of the Incas was standing within the doorway, surveying thelovers with beadlike, sparkling eyes.
