I took no time for thought, but jumped straight for Harry and threw my arms round him, dragging him back half-way across the room. Taken completely by surprise, he did not struggle. I noticed that he still held in his hands the bars of gold he had shown to Desiree.
The king regarded us for a second with a scowl, then turned to her.
She stood erect, with flashing eyes. The king approached; she held out her hand to him with an indescribable gesture of dignity.
For a moment he looked at her, then his lips curled in an ugly snarl, and, dashing her hand aside, he leaped forward in swift fury and grasped her white throat with his fingers.
There was a strangled scream from Desiree, a frantic cry from Harry—and the next instant he had torn himself free from my arms, dropping the bars of gold at my feet.
A single bound and he was across the room; a single blow with his fist and the king of the Incas dropped senseless to the floor.
Chapter XII.
AT THE DOOR.
Desiree shrank back against the wall, covering her face with her hands. Harry stood above the prostrate figure of the king, panting and furious.