Surrounded by her people, the ancient diadem of the Chibchas, with its great, smouldering emerald, on her head, Sajipona waited at the entrance to the court. Without, the motionless flowers and shrubbery of the garden were steeped in a pale, quivering light outlining every object with a weird intensity sharper, yet more indefinable than gleams from moon-drenched skies. In this spectral scene the cavemen stood in rows, like carven statues; even Sajipona, mobile, versatile of mood, seemed a woman of marble.

But Una, stirred profoundly by the picture she had seen, doubtful of its reality, not altogether sure of her own ground, aware of the dangers that threatened, but ignorant of their exact character, could not hide her anxiety. Seizing Sajipona’s hand, her eyes were eloquent of unspoken questioning. Her mute appeal was answered by a wistful smile, a glance at once gracious and sorrowful.

“For you there is no danger,” said the queen. “For me—yes, for me there is, perhaps, danger.”

“How can that be?”

“You fear this Raoul Arthur. It is not for you, it is for me he has come. For three years he has plotted to do this thing. My own kinsman, Rafael Segurra, was in league with him. Before now he has attempted to force his way here. The two together found their opportunity in your coming. And now—Arthur has escaped from his captors and again seems to have found traitors among my people.”

“What is it he wants?”

“You ask that—you who know David!”

For a moment the anger and suspicion with which she had first regarded Una kindled in Sajipona’s eyes. But the mood vanished as quickly as it came.

“Surely, you remember what Narva said,” she went on. “He seeks treasure. He sought it with David three years ago, the poor treasure belonging to what is left of my people. Segurra told him where it was, how to get it.”

“Ah, yes!” exclaimed Una. “Now I know! The treasure of Guatavita, of El Dorado, it is here.”

“It is here—it is mine!” said Sajipona sternly. “It will never be his. Always your people have fought for it, have sinned and died to make it theirs. They have driven us off the face of the earth, to hide for centuries in this cave and in that other land that as yet you know nothing of. Here we have made our world—and we will keep what is ours, unless David——”

The words died on Sajipona’s lips. At the far end of the garden the heavy branches of spectral shrubbery swayed and parted, revealing a majestic figure hastening toward them. It was Narva. Gliding along the pathway, she showed an agitation contrasting strangely with her accustomed reserve. Reaching the entrance to the palace, she pointed behind her, at the same time addressing the queen in words unintelligible to Una.

“Yes, they are coming,” said Sajipona, smiling composedly. “It is well. There is nothing to fear.”

Narva had arrived none too soon. As she spoke to the queen, shouts were heard in the distance, and then the tramp of approaching footsteps. Sajipona advanced to the threshold of the palace, where, signing to the others to remain behind, she stood alone, awaiting the noisy intruders. Her defenseless position brought bitter protest from Narva that was supported by a movement among the others to protect their queen. This was quickly rebuked; and when Raoul, his followers and the explorers poured into the garden they were confronted by a group of men and women who gave no sign of uneasiness at their arrival.

It should be noted here that, in spite of his defeat, pictured in the pool of light, Miranda had by no means relinquished his efforts to gain control of Raoul’s men. He had followed along at their side, irrepressible in his attempts to hold their attention—a sort of gadfly whose persistent teasing nothing can stop. Raoul would have put an end to him, once and for all; but in this he found that his men, pacific by nature and training, would not uphold him. Miranda’s rotund figure, vehemence, spasmodic energy, the unmitigated scorn with which he regarded all who differed from him, delighted them. He enjoyed the sort of immunity from punishment granted the old-time court jester. The cavemen liked him because they could never tell what he was going to do next. The novelty of so dynamic a personality appealed to their sense of humor. Thus, when they were all assembled in the garden, the little doctor’s next move was awaited with eagerness. To their astonishment, the flourish expected of him was not forthcoming. Instead, he stood stock still, folded his arms across his chest with all the Napoleonic dignity he could muster, and glared at Raoul.

This extreme composure, however, was not shared by the rest of the explorers. At the first glimpse of Una, standing immediately behind Sajipona, Mrs. Quayle gave a shriek of joy and collapsed into the arms of the schoolmaster, whose own emotions made him a sorry support at the best. Leighton, on the contrary, accompanied by Herran, strode quickly forward and would have reached the threshold of the palace, had he not been waved imperiously aside by Raoul, who now summoned his followers about him, formed them into a close phalanx and advanced rapidly across the garden. When they were within a hundred yards of the palace, they were suddenly met by two men of gigantic stature, who calmly ordered them to halt. Raoul was less intimidated than his followers, who recognized in this unexpected challenge an authority they were accustomed to obey. The two men confronting them evidently belonged to the priesthood. They were distinguished from the rest of Sajipona’s courtiers by their dress, adorned by various symbolical figures embroidered in red and gold, and by two wands, each surmounted by an emerald, which they carried in their hands. Although without military backing, weaponless except for these wands, Raoul saw with dismay that the mere presence of these men excited the respect, and even the homage, of those about him. Many bowed before them; a few showed an unmistakable disposition to abandon their enterprise altogether and take refuge in flight. Before this movement could become general, however, they were arrested by the appearance of Sajipona in their midst.

Descending the steps of the palace, the queen, attended only by Una and Narva, came swiftly forward to meet them. Her bearing, the proud majesty of her beauty, caused a murmur of admiration throughout the ranks of the cavemen that was punctuated by a hearty shout from Miranda, who watched the troubles of Raoul with unrestrained delight. It was not often, indeed, that the rank and file of the Land of the Condor came face to face with their queen. When they did so, the meeting aroused a profound feeling of pride and loyalty. Raoul, seeing the effect Sajipona had upon his men, and already disconcerted by the reception accorded the two priests, had no mind for further encounters that might cost him his entire following. In the outside world, faced by a similar danger, he would have retreated. But here, in the midst of a subterranean labyrinth of unknown extent, retreat was impossible. The alternative was a bold rallying of his forces, a sudden rush for the prize he had ventured so far to win. Turning upon his men, he denounced them savagely for their apparent change of purpose, their cowardice.

“You will remain slaves!” he cried tauntingly. “We have your tyrants in our power. All you need do for your freedom is to follow me and take what belongs to you.”

There were enough who understood his words to translate them to those ignorant of Spanish, and the immediate effect produced on these people, vacillating by nature, ever ready to yield to the strongest personality that appealed to them, was not far from that intended. Spears, knives, blowguns were brandished, a score or more men leaped forward uttering cries of triumph—and again the attack planned by Raoul seemed fairly under way and with a reasonable prospect of success. It was checked—but only for an instant—by a clamorous protest from Miranda. The latter, blazing with indignation, bounded to the front, gesticulating and menacing all who were within his reach.

“He is one canaille, this fellow!” he shouted. “He fight with the womens. He take from you all you have. Do not be estupid. He lie! He lie!”

This outburst astonished more than it convinced those to whom it was addressed. As Miranda spoke in a mixture of English and Spanish, scarcely any one understood what he said. In another moment he would have been swept derisively aside, had not Sajipona quietly interposed. Pointing at Raoul, she spoke a few words to the cavemen in their native tongue. Then she turned to the man whose armed presence at the doors of her palace, threatened her authority, if not her life.

“So! This is the man who, a short time ago, I saved from death at the hands of an angry mob!” she said scornfully. “You did not come to my house then, Don Raoul, as you come now. And yet—if I order these men, whom you think are your followers, to treat you as that other mob would have treated you, they would obey me. Be sure of that! And now, tell me: what have you done with Anitoo?”

Raoul hesitated a moment, then answered sullenly:

“He attacked me. I killed him in self-defense.”

The reply was only half understood by the cavemen; but the attitude of Raoul, contrasted with the majestic bearing and composure of Sajipona, had already aroused their indignation.

“It may have been, as you say, in self-defense—I have only your word for it. But, for the treachery, the rebellion you have brought here,” the queen went on, “by all the laws of our kingdom you should die. But I have something I wish you to do. If you do it, your life will be spared and you will be taken in safety from this cave never to enter it again.”

Sajipona checked the tumult that she saw rising among the cavemen, and spoke a few words to them.

“I have told them,” she explained, turning to Raoul, “that I knew of your coming—as I did. I have told them I have something for you to do before you are expelled from our kingdom. And I have pledged my word for your safety—although none of the men you have led here against me seem to care what happens to you. And now you will come with me.”

There was a murmur of approval. Raoul looked fearfully at his followers. Their submission to the commands of the woman they were accustomed to obey was sufficiently evident to destroy his last hope for even a divided authority. Neither—for he was ignorant of their language—could he tell just what had passed between them and Sajipona. He was glad to accept, however, the queen’s promise of safety; and this, coupled with a desire to get to the bottom of the mystery that had tantalized him since he first met this strange and fascinating being, reconciled him to the enforced abandonment of his schemes for the conquest of a subterranean stronghold into which he had ventured too far to retreat. He therefore bowed his head to Sajipona’s commands and prepared to do as she directed. His submission was greeted with ironical approval by Miranda, who how waddled forward impatiently, dragging Leighton with him, to enter the palace. But in this he was prevented by Sajipona.

“Senor, Doctor,” she said, pleasing his vanity by her knowledge of his professional title, “you must wait. There is much to be done. You are a fine general. You have helped save this palace, my kingdom and all of us from ruin. I am very grateful. Soon you will have everything that you want. And you and your friends will return to your own country in safety.”

This unexpected check, although expressed in terms that were highly pleasing to Miranda’s vanity, was received with a grumbling protest.

“But, Senorita,” he expostulated; “this young lady is here. I look for her everywhere in this cave. I am her family. She must come back to us.”

“Not yet,” was the calm reply. “Very soon, yes. But now she will stay with me.”

There was a finality about this way of putting things that dashed even Miranda’s impetuosity. Leighton, silently watching the brief altercation, and perceiving that Una, who still remained where Sajipona had left her, was perfectly calm and in no need of their assistance, exerted himself to restrain her headstrong champion. This was no easy matter, and the struggle between the two was watched with a covert smile by Sajipona. With the help of Herran and Andrew, however, Miranda’s opposition was finally overcome. After which, without waiting to hear the tirade that, she could see, the doctor was ready to launch, the queen, followed by Raoul, turned to the palace. Regaining the entrance, she faced them once more and waved a farewell to the silent throng in the garden. Then, giving her hand to Una, she passed within, the great doors clanging behind her.