Then for the first time I saw the ruler of the scene.  The Incas had stopped and stood motionless.  Suddenly they dropped to their knees and extended their arms—­I thought—­toward us; but something in their attitude told me the truth.  I wheeled sharply and saw the object of their adoration.

Built into the granite wall of the cavern, some thirty feet from the ground, was a deep alcove.  At each side of the entrance was an urn resting on a ledge, similar to those on the columns, only smaller, from which issued a mounting flame.

On the floor of the alcove was a massive chair, or throne, which seemed to be itself of fire, so brilliant was the glow of the metal of which it was constructed.  It could have been nothing but gold.  And seated on this throne was an ugly, misshapen dwarf.

“God save the king!” I cried, with a hysterical laugh; and in the profound silence my voice rang from one side of the cavern to the other in racing echoes.

Immediately following my cry the figure on the throne arose; and as he did so the creatures round us fell flat on their faces on the ground.  For several seconds the king surveyed them thus, without a sound or movement; then suddenly he stretched forth his hand in a gesture of dismissal.  They rose as one man and with silent swiftness disappeared, seemingly melting away into the walls of rock.  At the time the effect was amazing; later, when I discovered the innumerable lanes and passages which served as exits, it was not so difficult to understand.

We were apparently left alone, but not for long.  From two stone stairways immediately in front of us, which evidently led to the alcove above, came forth a crowd of rushing forms.  In an instant they were upon us; but if they expected resistance they were disappointed.

At the first impact we fell.  And in another moment we had been raised in their long, hairy arms and were carried swiftly from the cavern.  Scarcely five minutes had elapsed since we had first entered it.

They did not take us far.  Down a broad passage directly away from the cavern, then a turn to the right, and again one to the left.  There they dropped us, quite as though we were bundles of merchandise, without a word.

By this time I had fairly recovered my wits—­small wonder if that amazing scene had stunned them—­and I knew what I wanted.  As the brute that had been carrying me turned to go I caught his arm.  He hesitated, and I could feel his eyes on me, for we were again in darkness.

But he could see—­I thanked Heaven for it—­and I began a most expressive pantomime, stuffing my fingers in my mouth and gnawing at them energetically.  This I alternated with the action of one drinking from a basin.  I hadn’t the slightest idea whether he understood me; he turned and disappeared without a sign—­at least, without an audible one.

But the creature possessed intelligence, for I had barely had time to turn to Harry and ascertain that he was at least alive, when the patter of returning footsteps was heard.  They approached; there was the clatter of stone on the ground beside us.