Hearing this, Ted and Stanley rushed from the opening in the wall at which they had been listening, and fled to one of the smaller rooms where they could better defend themselves, for now that the Inca was no longer in the building the priests and guards were at liberty to enter. They waited, Ted retaining the heavy, golden rod in his hands, Stanley holding a long knife he had taken from one of the altars; but no one came to attack them. Instead, a pungent odor, faint and not disagreeable, came to their nostrils; they could not tell where it originated. Aside from noting the scent which grew constantly stronger and began to roll into the room in thin wisps and wreaths of blue smoke, they attached no importance to it. Doubtless it was caused by burning incense in one of the numerous sanctuaries; matters of greater import filled their minds. “I am choking,” Ted suddenly muttered, clutching at his throat; tears streamed down his cheeks. “And I can’t see either.” Stanley was blindly groping his way toward the door. The two were rapidly losing consciousness in the suffocating fumes that seemed completely to fill the building. As they painfully and aimlessly stumbled through the growing darkness a harsh voice half aroused them to their senses. It was the high priest’s. At the same time they could make out his form, faintly outlined in the haze, while in back of him were other dim figures. “Drag them out of the holy place,” cried Villac Umu, “and take them before the throne of judgment.” A dozen hands seized them by the shoulders and legs and carried them, limp and unconscious, out of the temple. CHAPTER XII THE VILLAINY OF VILLAC UMU A few breaths of the fresh, outer air restored the two prisoners to their senses, although it was some time before the stupor caused by the suffocating fumes left them entirely; this was followed by severe spells of coughing and a choking sensation. They asked for water but none was given them.