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Stout, Rex, 1886-1975

"Under the Andes"

Desiree stood
just within the doorway, seemingly half dazed.
"Come," I said; "there is no time to be lost. Come!"
"Where?" She did not move.
"With us. Isn't that enough? Do you want to stay here?"
She shuddered violently.
"You don't know--what has happened. I want to die. Where are
you going to take me?"
"Desiree," Harry burst out, "for Heaven's sake, come! Must we
carry you?"
He grasped her arm.
Then she moved and appeared to acquiesce. I started ahead; Harry
brought up the rear, with an arm round Desiree's shoulders. She
started once more to speak, but I wheeled sharply with a command
for silence, and she obeyed.
We reached the turn in the corridor and passed to the right,
moving as swiftly and noiselessly as possible. Ahead of us was
the light from the doorway of the room in which we had formerly
been imprisoned.
We had nearly reached it when I saw, some distance down the
corridor, moving forms. The light was very dim, but there
appeared to be a great many of them.
I turned, with a swift gesture to Harry and Desiree to follow,
and dashed forward to the light and through the doorway into the
room.


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