Again silence.  Harry stood gazing at one of the flaming urns, buried in thought—­easy to guess of what nature.  I did not think fit to disturb him, till presently he spoke again.

“What do you suppose that ugly devil will do about—­what he saw in here?”

I smiled.  “Nothing.”

“But if he should?  We are helpless.”

“Trust Desiree.  It’s true that she can’t even talk to him, but she’ll manage him somehow.  You saw what happened just now.”

“But the creature is no better than a dumb brute.  He is capable of anything.  I tell you, we ought to get her away from here.”

“To starve?”

“And we’re none too safe ourselves.  As for starving, we could carry enough of their darned fish to last a year.  And one thing is sure:  we won’t get back to New York lying round here waiting for something to turn up—­even a mountain.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Clear out.  Get Desiree away from that ugly brute.  If we only had our knives!”

“Where would we go?”

In that question was the whole matter.  To escape with Desiree was possible—­but then what?  We knew by experience what it meant to wander hopelessly about in the darkness of those desolate caverns, without food, and depending on Providence for water.  Neither of us cared to repeat that trial, especially with the added difficulty of a woman to care for.  But what to do?

We decided to wait for the future, and in the mean time lay in a supply of provisions, and, if possible, devise some sort of weapons.

It is worth remarking here that the Incas, so far as we had seen, used no weapons whatever.  This was most probably the result of their total isolation and consequent freedom from foreign hostility.

In the matter of food we were soon to receive an agreeable surprise.  It was about an hour after Desiree had left us that the royal steward—­I give him the title on my own responsibility—­ arrived, with pots and pans on a huge tray.

In the first place, the pots and pans were of solid gold.  Harry stared in amazement as they were placed in brilliant array on one of the stone tables; and when we essayed to lift the empty tray from another table on which it had been placed we understood why the steward had found it necessary to bring four assistants along as cup-bearers.

There was a king’s ransom on that table, in sober truth, for there could be no doubt but that this was part of the gold which had been carried from Huanuco when it had been demanded by Pizarro as payment for the life of Atahualpa.

But better even than the service was that which it contained.  It may not have been such as would enhance the reputation of a French chef, but to us then it seemed that the culinary art could go no farther.

There was a large platter; Harry lifted its cover in an ecstasy of hope; but the next instant his face fell ludicrously.