“I am Narva,” she announced quietly—but whether “Narva” was the queen she did not deign to say.
“Very well, my lady,” argued Miranda, “but we want the queen.”
“Silence!” commanded Narva, turning for the first time from Una to the others. “Come with me,” she repeated.
“But why?” persisted the doctor; “what for we go with you, my senora, unless you are queen?”
“Perhaps she is the queen,” suggested Andrew; “only she doesn’t want to say so. She didn’t deny it!” a view of the matter that met with no response.
But, queen or not, Una was ready to pin her faith to this strange being who had accosted them in so unexpected a manner. It was useless even to attempt an explanation of how an aged Indian woman, answering to the name of Narva, inhabiting a cave in the remote Andes, could talk English, and how it happened that she appeared to know them—a party of distressed foreigners—whom she had certainly never met before. So long as she refused to explain—and refuse she certainly did—all this would have to remain the puzzle that it was. But, logical or not, dangerous or not, Narva seemed to be something very like their last hope. Her bearing, although decidedly reserved, was not unkindly—was even friendly—and so Una determined to follow her without further discussion. The others scarcely shared her confidence. Mrs. Quayle stuck to it that Narva was dangerous, probably a witch; Leighton was still in doubt as to her sanity. Finally, Miranda put the point blank question—
“Why we go with her?”
“Simply because we have no one else to go with, no other plan,” was Una’s prompt reply.
There was no gainsaying this. They were wandering, without guide or clew of any kind, through a cave filled with mysteries and dangers. On the trail behind them were two bands of natives, absorbed in the occupation of cutting each other’s throats. From one of these bands it was certain they had much to fear. In front of them was a considerable body of cavemen, not at present engaged in war, it is true, but who might, for all they knew, prove unfriendly. Witch or queen, Narva volunteered to guide them—somewhere.
“At least we must know where she intends to take us,” declared Leighton.