and it worked. There was a
silence, then his voice came, steady enough:

"You know me better than that, Paul. Only--if it were not for
Desiree--but I'll swallow it. I think I've been sick, haven't I?"

Poor lad! I wanted to take his hand in mine and apologize. But that
would have been bad for both of us, and I answered simply:

"Yes, a little fever. But you're all right now. And now you must eat
and drink. Not much of a variety, but it's better than nothing."

I carried the platter and basin over to him, and sat down by his side,
and we fell to together.

But he would talk of Desiree, and I humored him. There was little
enough to say, but he pressed my hand hopefully and gratefully when I
expressed my belief that her disappearance had been a trick of some
sort and no matter for apprehension.

"We must find her, Paul."

"Yes."

"At once."

But there I objected.

"On the contrary, we must delay. Right now we are utterly helpless
from our long fast. They would handle us like babies if it came to a
fight. Try yourself; stand up."

He rose to his hands and knees, then sank back to the ground.

"You see. To move now would be folly. And of course they are watching
us at this minute--every minute. We must wait."

His only answer was a groan of despair.

In some manner the weary hours passed by.

Harry lay silent, but not asleep; now and then he would ask me some
question, but more to hear my voice than to get an answer. We heard or
saw nothing of our captors, for all our senses told us we were quite
alone, but our previous experience with them had taught us better than
to believe it.

I found myself almost unconsciously reflecting on the character and
nature of the tribe of dwarfs.

Was it possible that they were really the descendants of the Incas
driven from Huanuco by Hernando Pizarro and his horsemen nearly four
hundred years before? Even then I was satisfied of it, and I was soon
to have that opinion confirmed by conclusive evidence.

Other questions presented themselves. Why did they not speak? What
fuel could they have found in the bowels of the Andes for their vats of
fire? And how did sufficient air for ten thousand pairs of lungs find
its way miles underground? Why, in the centuries that had passed, had
none of them found his way to the world outside?

Some of these questions I answered for myself, others remained unsolved
for many months, until I had opportunity to avail