“You are our prisoner now, understand?” Stanley continued. “The tables are turned. Now you know just how we felt up to a few minutes ago, and you will learn other things, too, before we are through with you. Not a sound, remember, or it will be the last one you ever make.”
“You dared follow me here?” At last words came to the lips of the terrified monarch, but his voice was scarcely audible; the thing seemed so impossible to him. “Here! in the holy temple—in the presence of the Sun-God and of my sacred forefathers——”
“Shut up!” Stanley commanded, while Ted’s eyes, becoming accustomed to the semi-darkness, made out a row of mummies seated on gold thrones that lined the walls on both sides of them.
“Take us to one of the inner chambers,” Stanley continued, “and we will tell you what to do, but do not forget, no treachery, or you know what will happen,”—and he tightened his fingers perceptibly.
“I am the king; I obey no man’s orders,” Quizquiz protested weakly.
“You were king; now you are our prisoner and you will do exactly as we say. Move on!”
Without another word the captive led them to a small, bare room, with four walls of solid, hewn stone. Light was admitted through an opening ten feet above their heads. Ted stood guard at the door, while Stanley pushed Quizquiz to the centre of the floor, still retaining his hold on the prisoner’s throat.
In this position they stood for an appreciable length of time, looking at one another, the Inca’s wily brain busy trying to devise some means of outwitting his captors, and the two Americans hoping they could gain their end without resort to the violence they had promised in the event their demands were refused.
CHAPTER XI
THE COUNSEL OF THE WISE MEN
Quizquiz was rapidly regaining his self-control and haughty reserve. He folded his arms majestically and looked at the two who had made him prisoner.