Chapter 4

CHAPTER XA Royal RansomCristoval's suggestion let a ray of hope into the Inca's heart. To make it effectual without delay, and to bring the Spanish officers together, he decided upon a banquet. He mentioned his purpose to Cristoval."Good!" said the cavalier, emphatically. "Nothing could be better, my Lord Inca. 'T is an expedient in favor among Christian statesmen, and much history hath grown out of roast meats and wine—articles uncommonly fertile in liberal views of human affairs, and productive of flow of words in expressing them. Feed Pizarro well, and your proposal will follow most judiciously upon your cheer."The Spaniards were unprepared for the splendor of their entertainment. Banqueting was a function which the Peruvians had developed to a degree of elegance hardly equalled in Christendom. The table was laden not only with the choicest viands of the region, but with a lavish display of plate that dazzled the eyes of the guests and rendered theveedorsuddenly speechless.The Inca watched closely to observe the effect of the gold, and a moment convinced him that Cristoval was right. He noted the quick lighting of Pizarro's saturnine countenance and the significant glance at his companions, though the leader gave no other sign. Some of his officers retained less of their equipoise, and there were ejaculations of the names of saints, the Faith, the Cross, the Sacrament, and the like, invoked to witness their astonishment. Mendoza broke into a coarse guffaw and slapped his neighbor on the back. De Soto, Hernando Pizarro, Cristoval, and two or three others of the cavaliers of gentle breeding, stood with faces reddened or pale with humiliation, until Pizarro put an end to the exhibition with a stern "Attention, Señores! For the sake of Heaven, be silent! Ye are at the table of a gentleman."An uncomfortable constraint of some minutes' duration followed the seating of the company. The Inca meditated upon the manifest craving of his guests for the tableware, a greediness to him preposterous. The Peruvians were diligent miners of the two precious metals, not because they assigned to them any especial value, but for the reason that they were beautiful and adaptable to purposes of decoration. The idea of their use as a medium of exchange, that they could be representative of the value of other things, of the luxuries, comforts, and even necessities of life, was beyond the Inca's conception. Money was a thing unknown in Tavantinsuyu, and Cristoval had not yet explained to him its use in Christendom. But Atahualpa saw the Spaniards display an interest in his plate which seemed emotional, even passionate, and which made them oblivious, not only of the common courtesy due to him as their host, but of their own dignity. The unaccountable appetite excited at once his wonder and scorn.After a moment, however, he recalled the obligations of hostship, and with Felipillo's help engaged different ones in conversation. Pizarro swallowed his irritation and took part with more graciousness than Atahualpa had suspected him capable of showing, and the chill which had threatened to mar the evening gradually wore away. There were several of his nobles present, and they joined as freely in the sociability as circumstances permitted; for at the royal table the extreme formality of the court was for the time suspended, and the rigid distinction of prince and subject laid aside.At last the table was cleared, cups were served and filled withchicha, and the Inca, dipping his finger-tip into the liquor, filliped a few drops into the air as a libation to Inti, the Sun. He raised his cup and bowed to Pizarro. The latter responded, and in accordance with an ancient custom of the Peruvians remarkably like our own, the Inca touched his cup to that of his guest, and they drank together. Thus, with each of the company in turn Atahualpa took a sip ofchicha. This ceremony completed, he turned again to the Spanish commander and said with nonchalance:—"I perceive, Viracocha Pizarro, that your people are attracted by some of our metals—especially so by gold. It is something you have in your own country?""It is something which some of us have in our own country, my Lord Inca," replied Pizarro; "and of which more of us have little; but something, by the Faith, which all of us are pushing hardily to get!""Ah!" said the Inca. "But you possess a metal of far greater value in your iron, Viracocha. It hath surprised me that you can set so much importance upon one of comparatively little worth. But,—I would ask a question,—can freedom be purchased with gold?"Surprised by its suddenness, Pizarro seemed to fail for a moment to find a reply."Can freedom be purchased with gold, Viracocha Pizarro?" repeated Atahualpa.Pizarro recovered himself, and replied with emphasis: "By the Crucifix, that it can!—provided gold enough be offered.""Provided gold enough be offered!" repeated the Inca, unable to conceal his eagerness. "Then hear me, General Pizarro: Promise me liberty, and I will cover the floor of this room with gold!"The company ceased talking. Pizarro looked at him in astonishment, while a smile of incredulity went round the table. Atahualpa misinterpreted the silence and the expression, taking them to mean that his offer was too meagre. He looked from one to another for a moment, then sprang to his feet, and striding to the wall, stretched his hand above his head as far as he could reach."I will fill the room to this height with gold, Viracochas!—Is it enough?" he demanded, his eyes blazing with hardly suppressed excitement. "Is it enough?"Still the Spaniards were silent—dumb with amazement. Several had arisen. "Mad!" whispered one. The Inca stood waiting for their reply, his arm upraised, his commanding figure drawn to its full height, glittering in the lamplight with gems and golden decorations, while his dark eyes gleamed from beneath the fringe of thellautuas he surveyed the astonished Viracochas."Is it not enough?" he demanded again. "Then a like amount of silver!""Hold, in the name of Heaven!" exclaimed Cristoval warningly in Quichua.Pizarro regained his voice: "What sayest thou, Peralta?—Can he do it? Ask the noble beside thee!"The noble answered with emphasis in the affirmative."Then 't is done!" shouted Pizarro, unable to restrain his excitement. "Done! Agreed, my Lord Inca! We accept your offer. Make good your terms, and you are a free man—at liberty to go and come without let or hindrance. Here is my hand upon it. Wait!—We'll give you an instrument in writing. Zapato, step out and send an orderly for my secretary. Hernando, mount a chair and scratch a mark with thy dagger where the Inca put his hand. My lord, deign to raise your hand again. By the gods, Señores! What say you to 't? A hundred thousand demons! D'ye believe your ears? We are all rich men! Ask the noble again, Peralta, whether he can do it!—Ask another of them! Saith he yes? Art sure? Blood and wounds and gods of war! Ha, ha! What say ye to't, Señores?"Pizarro's cold reserve had gone. Cristoval had rarely seen him smile before: now he laughed, even roared, not pleasantly; and his pale countenance showed unaccustomed color. Theveedorhad pulled several times at his sleeve, unheeded."Pizarro!" he whispered. "Pizarro! Hold off a bit! He would have offered more, I am sure of it!"Pizarro turned upon him with impatience: "Oh, a curse upon thy money-gluttony, Rogelio! Hath it no bounds? Art insatiable? Be silent!""He had opened his mouth to offer more, I'll swear it! Oh, misery!" snuffled theveedor, as he turned away.The room was in a hubbub. Every man was on his feet, talking at the top of his voice and gesticulating. Now thechichaflowed without stint. When the secretary entered and set about the work of drawing up the agreement they crowded upon him, explaining, suggesting, and advising, until in despair he appealed to the commander, and they were ordered back while Pizarro dictated the document. Rogelio was a notary, and the paper was duly attested and sworn to, the Inca looking on with interest, and making his mark at last in accordance with a confusion of instructions from the wrought-up Spaniards. The business finished, he retired with a faint significant smile to Cristoval; but his going was almost unnoted by the others, and they lingered over theirchichaand their jubilation until the small hours, when the guard was summoned to carry certain ones to their quarters. Rogelio was hauled from a corner, and awoke to bitter tears and incoherent reproaches hurled against Pizarro's want of commercial sense. Pedro had appeared upon the scene at its close, and directed theveedor'sremoval."What, my fat pet!" exclaimed the cook in commiseration. "What, Rogelio, my barrel of grease! Melting thus in tears? Wasting thy blubber in futile drippings? Prithee, now, check thy thaw! A most melancholy deliquation, my friend! A sad prodigality of tallow! Come, stay thy liquefaction! Swab, wipe, stop thy leaks, desiccate, run dry, my civil officer of the Crown; thou'rt growing soggy!—What! Damn Pizarro? Agreed!—Damn the Inca? Fie, my cherub!—Damn everybody? Ah! But with one exception, and that's Pedro, the cook. Now thou 'rt hiccoughing, and I'm done with thee.Adiós, Rogelio, my lard-firkin! Good-night, my Cupid!" and Pedro stumped away.Without loss of time Atahualpa despatched hischasquisto Cuzco and other important towns, bearing orders that temples be dismantled of their gold and silver decorations, that palaces be stripped of their utensils; that, in short, the precious metals be drawn from every possible source and forwarded with all speed to Caxamalca. The report of the fabulous offer of ransom went abroad among the Spanish soldiers, received by most of them with incredulity and jeers; by a few, with riotous demonstrations of joy. The room was promptly measured. It was found to be about seventeen feet broad, by twenty-two feet long, and the height indicated by the Inca in the neighborhood of nine feet from the floor. This space was to be filled with gold in two months, and a smaller room adjoining to be twice filled with silver.It was days before there were returns from the Inca's orders;—days of restlessness for him, for he was desperate to see the fulfilment of his terms begun. Pizarro's eagerness was hardly less, but it was tempered with much doubt of Atahualpa's ability to produce so vast a treasure.At length, however, the first consignment arrived, borne on the backs of porters. The news spread rapidly. The Indios were halted in the square by an importunate rabble of soldiers, clamorous for a sight of their burden, and made to open their packages. As the rich booty was disclosed the soldiers stared a moment in stupefied silence, then raised a shout. Others came running, gazed for a second, and added their whoops. They went mad. They embraced one another, joined hands and danced around the glowing yellow heap, bellowing their glee. They mauled each other in heavy horse-play, roaring in uncouth laughter, without words to fit their raptures. The Indian porters looked on, wondering, as had the Inca, whether gold had not some hidden power to give madness. The soldiers seized them, whirled them into their clumsy fandango, clapped their backs and called them "amigos," "hermanos,"—friends and brothers,—and made them dizzy. Presently the treasure was gathered up and borne by the singing, yelling mob in triumph to Pizarro's headquarters in tumultuous invasion. That night no man slept.Thereafter, the stream of gold flowed steadily into Caxamalca for weeks, fortunes in a day. But soon came the inevitable reaction. Exultancy gave place to uneasiness and discontent. The treasure did not come in fast enough! The Inca was delaying for the purpose of gaining time to prepare for hostilities! Even Pizarro became suspicious, and went to Atahualpa with the charge. The Inca met him with a dignified reminder of the distance to be traversed by the gold, and the difficulties of the road. Pizarro was half satisfied; his soldiers less. Rumors persistently arose of native uprisings to rescue the monarch and regain the treasure, which the Spaniards could not conceive to be less an object of greed to the Indios than to themselves. Pizarro bluntly accused the Inca of conspiring against him, but Atahualpa disdained the imputation. The event proved his innocence, for a reconnaissance by Hernando Pizarro to the south not only failed to find disquiet, but was received everywhere with good-will. For a time the suspicions were allayed, only to rise again later in greater strength.About this time an event occurred which still further strained the relations between Pizarro and his captive. Huascar, Atahualpa's half-brother, then a prisoner at Xauxa, learned of the ransom being paid the Spaniards, and sent secret emissaries offering an even greater price for his own liberty. The negotiation was terminated suddenly by Huascar's death. Whether the unfortunate prince was executed by the Inca's order is a matter of doubt, but the fact that he was drowned in the river Andamarca gives credit to the belief that he perished in an attempt to escape.As soon as the tragedy was reported to him the Inca sent for Pizarro and informed him of Huascar's death with every expression of regret, apparently sincere."What!" shouted Pizarro, his face livid. "Huascar dead! What tale is this? Beware trifling with me, my Lord Inca! You will produce your brother in Caxamalca, alive and unharmed. This controversy between you shall be tried in a Christian court, as I have said to you before. Seek not to avoid it by subterfuge, my lord!""General Pizarro," replied the Inca, with dignity, "I have said that Huascar is dead.""Then, by the Eternal!" flamed Pizarro, "you shall pay for it with your life!" and turning on his heel, he left the room.CHAPTER XIThe Inca's Last PrayerThereafter Pizarro's interviews with the Inca were as few and brief as possible. Indeed, after the night of the banquet the captive was rarely seen by most of the Spanish officers, for, with the exception of Hernando Pizarro, De Soto, and Peralta, they were seldom invited to the palace. Now a settled melancholy had come over Atahualpa, which however disguised, did not escape Cristoval. The depression of his captivity was increased by the enmity which the Spanish commander took no further pains to conceal. The grief of the Ñusta Rava for her brother, moreover, had thrown a gloom over the palace, and deeply concerned Atahualpa, who loved her with a brother's solicitude and felt her unhappiness more keenly than was apparent to one unable to penetrate the impassiveness of his bearing.The princess fully returned his attachment. She had been much with him of late, and, with Toparca, had often taken part in his conversations with Cristoval—a favor seldom accorded to the other Spaniards, by whom the women of the Inca's family were rarely seen. Now she kept the seclusion of her apartments. Atahualpa missed her greatly, and Cristoval often found him profoundly gloomy and distraught. The cavalier encouraged him generously, doubtful himself, at times, of the commander's integrity, but daily more determined that the contract should be carried out.The summer had passed its height. About the middle of February Almagro arrived with a hundred and fifty infantry and fifty horse, well equipped, and Pizarro found himself able to resume activity. He began preparations at once for the march to Cuzco. The ransom was almost made up, and it was thought best to divide it without delay and continue the campaign rather than give the Peruvians time to conceal their treasures, which, it was suspected, they were already doing. Before making the division it was necessary to reduce the whole to ingots of uniform standard, and resort was had to the Indian goldsmiths. They were set to work, but so great was the amount that a month passed before the task was finished. At last the splendid collection, representing years of work and the highest skill of native art, was a common heap of bars. These weighed, the Spaniards found themselves possessors of 1,326,539pesos de oro, more than fifteen million dollars of our present currency. To this there were 413,000 ounces of silver in addition.The division was made with solemnity. The companies were formed in the square, and after invoking the Divine blessing upon the transaction, a fifth part—the royal fifth, it was called—was deducted to be sent to the Emperor Charles. The remainder was divided among the members of the expedition according to rank.Cristoval found himself rich. His share would be worth to-day something over one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, but the humblest pikeman was more rejoiced than he. Peralta was not more indifferent to wealth than any other normal man, but this gold!—it was befouled. It reeked with the massacre. He surveyed the yellow bars as they lay in the treasure room of the palace, and thought of the captive prince, his friend. There he left it and went away, harassed by its allurement and the ignominy of its ownership.The treasure having thus been satisfactorily apportioned, with or without the Divine blessing, the friends of Atahualpa held that his part of the contract was fulfilled. Hernando Pizarro, whose friendship for the monarch was outspoken, urged that he be given his promised liberty. Pizarro demurred. The time was inopportune. Word had been brought by a chief of the Cañares, a friendly tribe encamped in the valley, that an uprising was fomenting in the South. To release the Inca would be perilous for the present, but it would be done once tranquillity was assured. Meanwhile, the royal fifth must go to Spain. Would not Hernando be the bearer? It would be the most favorable of introductions at court, and if carried through with address, might lead to something,—who could tell? Three hundred thousand pesos laid gracefully at his Majesty's feet would smooth a way for the request, for example, that Peru be made a viceroyalty. A title for Hernando himself were not impossible.The prospect was flattering, and the Inca's case easily laid aside. Hernando went forthwith.His departure removed one embarrassment from the design which the commander secretly meditated in regard to the Inca, and which he knew Hernando would oppose with vigor. He would still have equally stanch supporters of the prisoner to deal with, but he trusted to circumstance to overcome or remove their influence. De Soto was the most formidable advocate of Atahualpa's cause. Soon after Hernando's departure, he and Cristoval went to the commander. They found Almagro there, and Riquelme, the royal treasurer, who had come with him from San Miguel. Mendoza and one or two others came in shortly afterward."The Inca beginneth to chafe, General," said De Soto, "over his delayed freedom. Several days have passed since the division of the ransom, but he awaiteth intimation that his captivity is near its end. May I not bear him some assurance?""Not now, Soto," replied Pizarro, impatiently. "Let him wait. As a matter of fact, he hath not yet made up the amount he promised. It was short, considerably, of reaching the line on the wall.""What!" exclaimed De Soto, bluntly. "Wilt thou make excuse of that? Thou knowest that waiting would have brought the full sum; and thou knowest, besides, it will be made up tenfold when we reach Cuzco. A poor pretext, Pizarro, I'll be bound!"Pizarro shrugged. De Soto eyed him sharply, waiting for his response. Pizarro shrugged again, and said: "Bien! I'll not hold the Inca for that, Soto. I'll acquit him of the rest of the obligation, but ask not his freedom now. Thou hast heard of the tribes in the South, and to-day cometh news that an army lieth at Quito, with thirty thousand Caribs ready to join. I doubt not that this Señor Inca is party to it. If it so proveth, by Heaven, he shall pay dearly for his treachery!""Rumors and yet more rumors!" exclaimed De Soto, contemptuously. "Santa Madre! How long shall we entertain these cries of wolf, Pizarro? A rising of the Indios, forsooth! A spectre to be laid daily! With five men I could ride to Cuzco. Give the order, and I will go."Pizarro regarded him thoughtfully. "It might be well advised, Soto—not with five men, but with thy troop; and not so far as Cuzco, but to Guamachucho, whence the rumors come. The reconnaissance could be made in a week—there and return. Let us say, ten days without hard marching. Thou couldst start to-morrow? Very well.—And Peralta, thou hast knowledge of the Quichua.Excellente! I will think of it."When De Soto and Cristoval had departed Pizarro swore an oath. "But for the qualms of those two and half-a-dozen others," he fumed, "we need not fash ourselves about this accursed proud heathen king. I would snuff him out, for by the faith! I had liefer trust myself with a wounded bear than set him loose to bring his hordes to our destruction. He is a mad bull held by the horns. I can neither hold him nor let him go. Were it not for him we could be on the march to Cuzco; but as 't is, we dare not leave him under such guard as we can spare, nor can safely take him with us.""Then why shilly-shally?" demanded Almagro. "A bit of steel between his ribs, or a hitch of rope about his neck, and we are disencumbered. My life! I see no complexity in that.""But De Soto hath his troop at his back, Almagro, and an embroglio now would put us in bad case. Many of the men would be but lukewarm for the Inca's death. Since they have his gold they shout, 'Viva el Inca!' and affect a friendliness.""Ah!" scoffed Riquelme. "The fleeting dim gratitude of jackals with bellies full! 'T is easily chilled. Stir up fresh rumors. Incite alarms. Put them forty-eight hours under arms on guard, then hear them yelp and snarl. When they bay in full chorus, bring charges against the Inca. Try him in court with all grave show and pertinent solemnity. When De Soto and Peralta return, show them a royal grave.""The soul and essence of good counsel, Riquelme, and most crisply put!" exclaimed Almagro, half admiringly, half in contempt. "Thou 'rt a man of parts, my friend, and fit to intrigue with cardinals, prime ministers, and favorites of kings—or to be a barrister! Ha! Leave it to Riquelme, Pizarro."Pizarro looked from one to another without replying. He smiled, and his smile was not pleasant to look upon. Instructing the sentinel at the door that no one should be admitted, he drew his chair close to his visitors.The council was long. At its close Pizarro said: "Well, think upon it overnight and come again to-morrow. There are charges enough to answer our purpose, and we have only to put them into form.Cara! This device is luckily hit upon, Señores, and we'll perfect its members. Say not a word of it to any man. Now I'll issue an order for De Soto's march. That was a hint opportunely offered. He was in the way, and, curse him! I saw no means of being quit of his importunities.—Adiós, gentlemen. I thank you for your good counsel."De Soto received marching orders that evening, and he and Cristoval spent the greater part of the night in the preparation of the troop. In the morning, Cristoval hurried to take leave of the Inca. The hour was early, and the latter had not come from his private apartments. After a few minutes' conversation with the nobles in the anteroom of the small salon where Atahualpa received his friends informally, Cristoval entered. In a moment he saw the nobles sink to their knees. Their sovereign was approaching. Atahualpa paused for a word of greeting, and entered the room where the cavalier stood waiting. Seeing Cristoval in full armor, he asked anxiously as he advanced,—"What is this, Viracocha Cristoval? Thou 'rt equipped as for battle! I trust nothing hath occurred, or is about to occur.""Nothing, my lord. I have come to bid you a short farewell. I go with De Soto on a few days' journey. We ride to Guamachucho.""To Guamachucho! Why to Guamachucho?""Merely to prove to Pizarro that another rumor which hath reached his ears is without foundation, my Lord Inca. He gave his promise yesterday to release you the moment he feeleth secure, and we go to hasten his assurance. We will return to see you at liberty and rejoice with you, my lord."Atahualpa made no immediate reply, but stood with arms folded, his eyes bent gloomily upon the floor. At length he asked, "Your going is voluntary?""Entirely so, my Lord Inca. It was De Soto's suggestion. He offered, to prove the good will of your people, to ride to Cuzco almost alone. So long a journey being needless, we make this shorter one."The cloud deepened upon the Inca's brow. Finally he said, half meditatively: "I fear it is unfortunate. The Viracocha Hernando, who, I believe, was my friend, hath gone. Now thou and De Soto go. I would it were otherwise, Viracocha Cristoval."Cristoval divined the cause of his misgiving. "Nay, my lord," he said earnestly, "the circumstance hath no import, believe me. You have many other friends in the army. Yesterday I heard the soldiers shouting, 'Long live the Inca!' Moreover, Pizarro hath given you formal quittance of your ransom. Have you not heard of it?""I have heard.""You will receive the paper to-day; and now nothing delayeth your liberty but Pizarro's uneasiness about the feeling among your subjects. We shall remove that uncertainty, and when we meet again, my lord, it will be on the eve of your freedom."Atahualpa turned his dark eyes upon him. "My friend," he said gravely, "we shall not meet again!—Nay, hear me! I know what thou wouldst say, but I am right. This is our last meeting.—Be silent!" he interrupted, with some sternness, when Cristoval essayed to speak. "I do not say this to hear thy protests; and let us not waste words, for time is fleeting. When you return, I shall be—not here. I have been forewarned. My life is near its close. Enough! I do not fear to die. I would say naught of this, but there is something I would ask of thee."He paused, and for a moment his eyes looked searchingly into those of the cavalier. When he resumed it was as if satisfied with the scrutiny, and he spoke in the tone he might have used to a brother."There is something I would ask of thee. Thou hast been my friend, as I believe in my heart. Of all these unknown around me I have felt that I know thee, Viracocha Cristoval, and I know that I can entrust to thee now my dearest wish. It is this: I shall leave behind me many loved ones, and among them the Ñusta Rava. Promise me thou wilt be to her what thou wouldst wish a friend to be to thy best beloved sister. Toparca hath not his strength. None of my people can aid her as well as thou in time of need. Guard her life until thou canst convey her to safety. Above all, guard her honor. Promise me this. Nay, promise me more. She will be surrounded by a thousand perils—give thy word thou'lt be ready to lay down thy life to save her unharmed; and, should all else fail, that thou wilt, at the end of hope, plunge thy dagger to her heart, rather than surrender her to dishonor. Give me thy promise. I ask it as a soldier of a soldier, Viracocha Cristoval."Cristoval, moved to the depths of his chivalrous soul by the earnest appeal of this splendid despot, who had never before laid aside his majesty to ask a boon of mortal man, but who now addressed him with a brother's prayer for the sanctity of his sister, offered his hand. It was taken by the monarch, and for the moment they stood regarding one another, no longer as prince and conquistador, Inca and Spaniard, but as men."My Lord Inca," said Cristoval, "I swear by all I hold most sacred to spare neither my blood nor my life in her defence!""It is enough, my friend. I thank thee. I demand much of thy friendship. How I can ask it of one who hath come with mine enemies, with full assurance that I ask it not in vain, only He who shineth into all men's hearts can say. I trust thee, Viracocha Cristoval. Now go! May the infinite and unknown Pachacamac watch over thee! Farewell. But wait—take this!—it will serve thee." He unwound thellautufrom his head and detached a bit of its crimson fringe. "Preserve it! It will be thy safeguard to the farthest borders of Tavantinsuyu. Farewell!"CHAPTER XIIVengeance FoiledAlthough Cristoval could not share the Inca's mistrust of Pizarro's faith, he was profoundly impressed by his words of farewell, spoken with such firm conviction. They saddened him despite his confidence in his commander, and as he crossed the court his steps lagged while he pondered the possibility of remaining in Caxamalca. His deliberation was ended by the trumpets of his troop sounding in the plaza. It was too late now, at any rate, and he hurried on. He was arrested by hearing his name called timidly, and turning, saw one of the Princess Rava's maidens hastening toward him."Viracocha," she said, "my mistress sendeth greeting, and prayeth a few words.""Most gladly," replied Cristoval. "Wilt lead me to her?"He followed her to the garden, and a few paces brought them to the princess. She rose as they approached, and Cristoval regarded her with new interest. He noted with sympathy the traces of care and grief, wondering at the heightened womanliness they had produced, and suddenly recognizing in her that rare nature whose gentlest and fairest attributes are perfected by sorrow. Cristoval had not known many good women in his adventurous career, but he had discovered this quality with increased reverence for womankind. He observed it now in this girl of a strange and new-found race, and thought to himself, "Well, God save them, they are all sisters, whatever their blood—and the burden of sorrow worked by men's misdeeds falleth always most heavily upon them!"As he drew near he was struck more than ever by her beauty, which had impressed him at first by its warmth and exuberance. Now, softened and chastened by sadness, the fire and pride which had once shone in her dark eyes had given way to a gentle pathos and appeal which touched his kindly heart. As he bent over the extended hand he renewed to himself the vow he had made to her brother a short while before."Viracocha Cristoval," she said, with hesitation, "I am sure that you will pardon my sending for you. I have just learned that you are going away.""For a short journey, Ñusta Rava.""I pray it may be a safe one," she answered. "I will delay you only a moment. I would ask if you can tell me aught of the fate in store for my brother, the Inca." She looked up to him with eyes deepening with anxiety, and faltered, "He will say nothing, but I can see his sadness, which hath grown upon him with every day of deferred hope since the payment of his ransom. Hath he cause for this? Do you know, Viracocha Cristoval?""I know nothing, Ñusta Rava, to cause him apprehension. On the contrary, General Pizarro hath renewed his promise to give him freedom, and, we trust, in a very few days. I have told him this, but he rejecteth the offered hope. He saith he hath been forewarned of pending evil. I know not how.""Alas! Said he so?" moaned the princess, her eyes filling. "Then what I have been told is true! Ah, my unhappy brother!" and she sank sobbing upon the bench."What hath she been told?" demanded Cristoval, turning to the maid; but the girl, too, was in tears, and incapable of reply. He stepped to Rava's side. "Ñusta Rava," he said urgently, "pray tell me. Is it anything of evil from Pizarro regarding the Inca? If so—"She shook her head. "No, no!" she replied, brokenly; "but a few evenings ago he beheld a falling star of unusual splendor, and called to mind that shortly before the death of our father a similar sign was given. The death of an Inca is heralded by strange portents, Viracocha."Cristoval was relieved. "Nay, my princess!" he said consolingly, "heed it not. Such signs are but the wiles of the devil—are but chance appearances. I have seen a thousand falling stars. They are for children and old women to talk about at firesides. Oh, I beg of you, restrain your tears! Take courage! Hear me, Ñusta Rava! De Soto and myself and half-a-score of others have witnessed Pizarro's oath to set your brother free. He awaiteth only assurance that your people are at peace. A few days hence the Inca shall have his liberty. Pizarro is a man of honor."She controlled herself with an effort, and, brushing away her tears, presently looked up. "Forgive my weakness, Viracocha Cristoval. I fear my heart is overburdened. One blow hath fallen upon another until the world is dark.""I know what your sorrows have been," replied Cristoval, kindly, "but I believe one, at least, is near its end.""Oh, I thank you for your words of hope!" she murmured. "I feared that a change in your leader's purpose had brought my brother's heaviness of heart. I will try to cheer him.""Do so. Assure him that he hath other friends among Spaniards besides myself. It is true.""He is sure of you, Viracocha Cristoval," she said gratefully. "But now, let me keep you no longer. I heard a trumpet some minutes ago. It called you, did it not?""It called me, Ñusta Rava.""Then you must go. I pray the Sun may brighten your way and give you safe return.""Farewell, and Heaven guard you, Ñusta Rava!" He touched her fingers with his lips and hastened away.As he passed up the avenue the trumpets were sounding the "Mount," and in his haste he failed to notice a burly figure in the shelter of a by-path. It was Mendoza. He had been waiting Pizarro's return from seeing the departure of De Soto's troop, and, presuming upon the commander's determination to make away with the Inca, whom Mendoza already considered as good as dead, he had invaded the forbidden precincts of the garden. Perceiving Cristoval and the Princess Rava, he had stepped unobserved into the shrubbery, and watched the interview with a scowling sneer."Aha, my conscientious buck cavalier!" he muttered, peering out as Cristoval strode away. "Stolen meetings with Her Highness? Tears and kissed hands at parting? By the fiend, that smelleth of romance!—And we have been wondering at thy continence, thou cursed sly dog, whilst thou hast been spreading thy net for the very pick of the flock! Oho! But wait!—let us see,amigo mio! Methinks the cards are to be dealt again, and thou'lt have no hand.—And thou dost nurse so charitable an interest in the Señorita Ñusta's brother? Hum! And I have stumbled upon its source thus unexpectedly? Even so!Bien! But,adiós, my gallant. Thou'lt find more than one change on thy return to Caxamalca,—among others, a division of spoil upon which thou 'rt not counting, whereof I see a pearl to which I'll lay claim in Pizarro's ear this very morning.—She cometh this way, now! I'll step out and give her greeting. Curse me! why have I not learned a few words of her heathen tongue? I know but three,—curi, gold;collque, silver; andchicha. Good words, but not suited to the present need. However,no importa—let it pass. Much can be said in dumb show. We'll make it answer. Now, let us see if we cannot be made to forget our Cristoval."Giving a twirl to his mustachios and a touch to the sallow ruff around his neck, Mendoza stepped into the avenue, and made a well-feigned start of surprise when his eyes rested upon the approaching princess. Off came Mendoza's sombrero, and he bowed until its plume lay on the ground."Your gracious Highness," he murmured in Spanish, with his hand on his heart, "I am your slave. The devil take me if I know how to make you understand it, but 't is so, my lady bird, my chickadee, and I would swear it, could I but formulate an oath which you could grasp in your benightedness."The princess, happily unconscious of the disrespect in the words, but indignant at his intrusion, responded with a barely perceptible inclination of her head, and passed on. But Mendoza was not to be easily rebuffed. Striding after her, he gained her side."But stay, my haughty pagan lady!" he exclaimed, his forced smile only half concealing the wickedness in his eyes. "Not so fast, pretty one! Let us talk;—or if we cannot talk, let us make signs.Caramba! Let us be acquainted!" and he placed his hand upon her arm.The princess shrank as if from a reptile, turning with a look of indignant scorn that daunted even the case-hardened Mendoza, while a scream from the maid brought him fully to his senses. He halted, and Rava went her way with burning cheeks, leaving the Spaniard staring after her discomfited."Jesu!" he exclaimed, beneath his breath. He replaced his sombrero over one ear and spread his legs wide apart, one hand upon his hip, the other depressing the hilt of his rapier until its point rose to the level of his shoulder."Cara! There is a sudden chilliness hereabouts. Did I feel a cool breeze from the mountains, or was it a freezing glance? No matter, Señorita Ñusta Rava, my dark beauty—no matter! We'll score that in the account against this Cristoval. And, withal, proud loveliness is much to my taste. There's a zest in subjugating.—Hola! Who the devil is this?"Pedro, crossing the lower end of the court, had met the princess, and noticing her indignation and the trepidation of her maid, suspected that some drunken soldier had been trespassing. He stepped quickly through the shrubbery and came upon Mendoza, still in his jaunty pose. Pedro divined the situation in the instant. Halting, he tilted his toque over his ear, placed his hand upon his hip, spread his good leg wide from its fellow, and stood surveying Mendoza with concentrated insolence, in a grotesque caricature of the latter's attitude. Mendoza, in turn, regarded the cook in surprise, then colored with anger as he realized the tableau in which he was taking part. He adjusted himself hastily and opened his lips to deliver an imprecation upon the cook's head. He thought better of it, remembering Pizarro's stern order against intrusion upon the privacy of the garden, and an injunction, yet more stern, against affronting the women of the court. He swallowed the curse for discretion's sake, and in the effort produced a grimace which he hoped Pedro might accept for a smile."Thou 'rt a droll fellow, Pedro," he said with forced lightness, and stalked away. Pedro followed him with his eyes, his attitude unchanged."Ah!" he growled. "A droll fellow, am I not, thou scurvy picaroon! Had I my blade thou shouldst find me twice more droll, my dastardly rough-handler of women, for I would tickle thy ribs most humorously before thou shouldst leave this garden. Slink off, caught-dog! I'll have an eye on thee.—A droll fellow! By the faith, it must be so, for naught but drollery could wrench a smile so misbegotten, crump, and bandy as that of thine! Thou didst grin like a kicked hat. An old boot could smile more mirthfully. Pedro must be droll, to give thee such a toad's smirk, Mendoza!" He straightened his toque and stumped back to his quarters.Meanwhile De Soto's troop, with armor glinting, guidon and pennons fluttering, and trumpets sounding a spirited quickstep, marched out of the square on its way to Guamachucho. At the end of the second day the Spaniards entered the town. They found it a small place, unfortified, and without a sign of the reported rising of the people.A thorough reconnaissance of the country about occupied the next two days, for De Soto was determined that no doubt concerning its quiet should remain. At midnight of the second day he was seated with Cristoval in the latter's quarters, discussing the expedition and planning for the morrow, to be spent in reconnoitring the country farther south,—then a day of rest, and the return march to Caxamalca. Cristoval rose to make his rounds when they heard a hurried step in the patio, and a soldier entered, followed by achasqui. The youth was breathing heavily, and as he entered the lamplight his body glistened with perspiration."The Viracocha Cristoval?" panted thechasqui, looking from one to the other and drawing a paper from his pouch."Here!" said Cristoval. Taking the paper, he hastily broke the seal, reading the contents with alarm and rage. He finished and thrust it toward De Soto, who was anxiously watching his expression."Read that, Soto!" he shouted, "and learn the black treachery we have left behind!"De Soto seized the paper. It was from Pedro.

CHAPTER X

A Royal Ransom

Cristoval's suggestion let a ray of hope into the Inca's heart. To make it effectual without delay, and to bring the Spanish officers together, he decided upon a banquet. He mentioned his purpose to Cristoval.

"Good!" said the cavalier, emphatically. "Nothing could be better, my Lord Inca. 'T is an expedient in favor among Christian statesmen, and much history hath grown out of roast meats and wine—articles uncommonly fertile in liberal views of human affairs, and productive of flow of words in expressing them. Feed Pizarro well, and your proposal will follow most judiciously upon your cheer."

The Spaniards were unprepared for the splendor of their entertainment. Banqueting was a function which the Peruvians had developed to a degree of elegance hardly equalled in Christendom. The table was laden not only with the choicest viands of the region, but with a lavish display of plate that dazzled the eyes of the guests and rendered theveedorsuddenly speechless.

The Inca watched closely to observe the effect of the gold, and a moment convinced him that Cristoval was right. He noted the quick lighting of Pizarro's saturnine countenance and the significant glance at his companions, though the leader gave no other sign. Some of his officers retained less of their equipoise, and there were ejaculations of the names of saints, the Faith, the Cross, the Sacrament, and the like, invoked to witness their astonishment. Mendoza broke into a coarse guffaw and slapped his neighbor on the back. De Soto, Hernando Pizarro, Cristoval, and two or three others of the cavaliers of gentle breeding, stood with faces reddened or pale with humiliation, until Pizarro put an end to the exhibition with a stern "Attention, Señores! For the sake of Heaven, be silent! Ye are at the table of a gentleman."

An uncomfortable constraint of some minutes' duration followed the seating of the company. The Inca meditated upon the manifest craving of his guests for the tableware, a greediness to him preposterous. The Peruvians were diligent miners of the two precious metals, not because they assigned to them any especial value, but for the reason that they were beautiful and adaptable to purposes of decoration. The idea of their use as a medium of exchange, that they could be representative of the value of other things, of the luxuries, comforts, and even necessities of life, was beyond the Inca's conception. Money was a thing unknown in Tavantinsuyu, and Cristoval had not yet explained to him its use in Christendom. But Atahualpa saw the Spaniards display an interest in his plate which seemed emotional, even passionate, and which made them oblivious, not only of the common courtesy due to him as their host, but of their own dignity. The unaccountable appetite excited at once his wonder and scorn.

After a moment, however, he recalled the obligations of hostship, and with Felipillo's help engaged different ones in conversation. Pizarro swallowed his irritation and took part with more graciousness than Atahualpa had suspected him capable of showing, and the chill which had threatened to mar the evening gradually wore away. There were several of his nobles present, and they joined as freely in the sociability as circumstances permitted; for at the royal table the extreme formality of the court was for the time suspended, and the rigid distinction of prince and subject laid aside.

At last the table was cleared, cups were served and filled withchicha, and the Inca, dipping his finger-tip into the liquor, filliped a few drops into the air as a libation to Inti, the Sun. He raised his cup and bowed to Pizarro. The latter responded, and in accordance with an ancient custom of the Peruvians remarkably like our own, the Inca touched his cup to that of his guest, and they drank together. Thus, with each of the company in turn Atahualpa took a sip ofchicha. This ceremony completed, he turned again to the Spanish commander and said with nonchalance:—

"I perceive, Viracocha Pizarro, that your people are attracted by some of our metals—especially so by gold. It is something you have in your own country?"

"It is something which some of us have in our own country, my Lord Inca," replied Pizarro; "and of which more of us have little; but something, by the Faith, which all of us are pushing hardily to get!"

"Ah!" said the Inca. "But you possess a metal of far greater value in your iron, Viracocha. It hath surprised me that you can set so much importance upon one of comparatively little worth. But,—I would ask a question,—can freedom be purchased with gold?"

Surprised by its suddenness, Pizarro seemed to fail for a moment to find a reply.

"Can freedom be purchased with gold, Viracocha Pizarro?" repeated Atahualpa.

Pizarro recovered himself, and replied with emphasis: "By the Crucifix, that it can!—provided gold enough be offered."

"Provided gold enough be offered!" repeated the Inca, unable to conceal his eagerness. "Then hear me, General Pizarro: Promise me liberty, and I will cover the floor of this room with gold!"

The company ceased talking. Pizarro looked at him in astonishment, while a smile of incredulity went round the table. Atahualpa misinterpreted the silence and the expression, taking them to mean that his offer was too meagre. He looked from one to another for a moment, then sprang to his feet, and striding to the wall, stretched his hand above his head as far as he could reach.

"I will fill the room to this height with gold, Viracochas!—Is it enough?" he demanded, his eyes blazing with hardly suppressed excitement. "Is it enough?"

Still the Spaniards were silent—dumb with amazement. Several had arisen. "Mad!" whispered one. The Inca stood waiting for their reply, his arm upraised, his commanding figure drawn to its full height, glittering in the lamplight with gems and golden decorations, while his dark eyes gleamed from beneath the fringe of thellautuas he surveyed the astonished Viracochas.

"Is it not enough?" he demanded again. "Then a like amount of silver!"

"Hold, in the name of Heaven!" exclaimed Cristoval warningly in Quichua.

Pizarro regained his voice: "What sayest thou, Peralta?—Can he do it? Ask the noble beside thee!"

The noble answered with emphasis in the affirmative.

"Then 't is done!" shouted Pizarro, unable to restrain his excitement. "Done! Agreed, my Lord Inca! We accept your offer. Make good your terms, and you are a free man—at liberty to go and come without let or hindrance. Here is my hand upon it. Wait!—We'll give you an instrument in writing. Zapato, step out and send an orderly for my secretary. Hernando, mount a chair and scratch a mark with thy dagger where the Inca put his hand. My lord, deign to raise your hand again. By the gods, Señores! What say you to 't? A hundred thousand demons! D'ye believe your ears? We are all rich men! Ask the noble again, Peralta, whether he can do it!—Ask another of them! Saith he yes? Art sure? Blood and wounds and gods of war! Ha, ha! What say ye to't, Señores?"

Pizarro's cold reserve had gone. Cristoval had rarely seen him smile before: now he laughed, even roared, not pleasantly; and his pale countenance showed unaccustomed color. Theveedorhad pulled several times at his sleeve, unheeded.

"Pizarro!" he whispered. "Pizarro! Hold off a bit! He would have offered more, I am sure of it!"

Pizarro turned upon him with impatience: "Oh, a curse upon thy money-gluttony, Rogelio! Hath it no bounds? Art insatiable? Be silent!"

"He had opened his mouth to offer more, I'll swear it! Oh, misery!" snuffled theveedor, as he turned away.

The room was in a hubbub. Every man was on his feet, talking at the top of his voice and gesticulating. Now thechichaflowed without stint. When the secretary entered and set about the work of drawing up the agreement they crowded upon him, explaining, suggesting, and advising, until in despair he appealed to the commander, and they were ordered back while Pizarro dictated the document. Rogelio was a notary, and the paper was duly attested and sworn to, the Inca looking on with interest, and making his mark at last in accordance with a confusion of instructions from the wrought-up Spaniards. The business finished, he retired with a faint significant smile to Cristoval; but his going was almost unnoted by the others, and they lingered over theirchichaand their jubilation until the small hours, when the guard was summoned to carry certain ones to their quarters. Rogelio was hauled from a corner, and awoke to bitter tears and incoherent reproaches hurled against Pizarro's want of commercial sense. Pedro had appeared upon the scene at its close, and directed theveedor'sremoval.

"What, my fat pet!" exclaimed the cook in commiseration. "What, Rogelio, my barrel of grease! Melting thus in tears? Wasting thy blubber in futile drippings? Prithee, now, check thy thaw! A most melancholy deliquation, my friend! A sad prodigality of tallow! Come, stay thy liquefaction! Swab, wipe, stop thy leaks, desiccate, run dry, my civil officer of the Crown; thou'rt growing soggy!—What! Damn Pizarro? Agreed!—Damn the Inca? Fie, my cherub!—Damn everybody? Ah! But with one exception, and that's Pedro, the cook. Now thou 'rt hiccoughing, and I'm done with thee.Adiós, Rogelio, my lard-firkin! Good-night, my Cupid!" and Pedro stumped away.

Without loss of time Atahualpa despatched hischasquisto Cuzco and other important towns, bearing orders that temples be dismantled of their gold and silver decorations, that palaces be stripped of their utensils; that, in short, the precious metals be drawn from every possible source and forwarded with all speed to Caxamalca. The report of the fabulous offer of ransom went abroad among the Spanish soldiers, received by most of them with incredulity and jeers; by a few, with riotous demonstrations of joy. The room was promptly measured. It was found to be about seventeen feet broad, by twenty-two feet long, and the height indicated by the Inca in the neighborhood of nine feet from the floor. This space was to be filled with gold in two months, and a smaller room adjoining to be twice filled with silver.

It was days before there were returns from the Inca's orders;—days of restlessness for him, for he was desperate to see the fulfilment of his terms begun. Pizarro's eagerness was hardly less, but it was tempered with much doubt of Atahualpa's ability to produce so vast a treasure.

At length, however, the first consignment arrived, borne on the backs of porters. The news spread rapidly. The Indios were halted in the square by an importunate rabble of soldiers, clamorous for a sight of their burden, and made to open their packages. As the rich booty was disclosed the soldiers stared a moment in stupefied silence, then raised a shout. Others came running, gazed for a second, and added their whoops. They went mad. They embraced one another, joined hands and danced around the glowing yellow heap, bellowing their glee. They mauled each other in heavy horse-play, roaring in uncouth laughter, without words to fit their raptures. The Indian porters looked on, wondering, as had the Inca, whether gold had not some hidden power to give madness. The soldiers seized them, whirled them into their clumsy fandango, clapped their backs and called them "amigos," "hermanos,"—friends and brothers,—and made them dizzy. Presently the treasure was gathered up and borne by the singing, yelling mob in triumph to Pizarro's headquarters in tumultuous invasion. That night no man slept.

Thereafter, the stream of gold flowed steadily into Caxamalca for weeks, fortunes in a day. But soon came the inevitable reaction. Exultancy gave place to uneasiness and discontent. The treasure did not come in fast enough! The Inca was delaying for the purpose of gaining time to prepare for hostilities! Even Pizarro became suspicious, and went to Atahualpa with the charge. The Inca met him with a dignified reminder of the distance to be traversed by the gold, and the difficulties of the road. Pizarro was half satisfied; his soldiers less. Rumors persistently arose of native uprisings to rescue the monarch and regain the treasure, which the Spaniards could not conceive to be less an object of greed to the Indios than to themselves. Pizarro bluntly accused the Inca of conspiring against him, but Atahualpa disdained the imputation. The event proved his innocence, for a reconnaissance by Hernando Pizarro to the south not only failed to find disquiet, but was received everywhere with good-will. For a time the suspicions were allayed, only to rise again later in greater strength.

About this time an event occurred which still further strained the relations between Pizarro and his captive. Huascar, Atahualpa's half-brother, then a prisoner at Xauxa, learned of the ransom being paid the Spaniards, and sent secret emissaries offering an even greater price for his own liberty. The negotiation was terminated suddenly by Huascar's death. Whether the unfortunate prince was executed by the Inca's order is a matter of doubt, but the fact that he was drowned in the river Andamarca gives credit to the belief that he perished in an attempt to escape.

As soon as the tragedy was reported to him the Inca sent for Pizarro and informed him of Huascar's death with every expression of regret, apparently sincere.

"What!" shouted Pizarro, his face livid. "Huascar dead! What tale is this? Beware trifling with me, my Lord Inca! You will produce your brother in Caxamalca, alive and unharmed. This controversy between you shall be tried in a Christian court, as I have said to you before. Seek not to avoid it by subterfuge, my lord!"

"General Pizarro," replied the Inca, with dignity, "I have said that Huascar is dead."

"Then, by the Eternal!" flamed Pizarro, "you shall pay for it with your life!" and turning on his heel, he left the room.

CHAPTER XI

The Inca's Last Prayer

Thereafter Pizarro's interviews with the Inca were as few and brief as possible. Indeed, after the night of the banquet the captive was rarely seen by most of the Spanish officers, for, with the exception of Hernando Pizarro, De Soto, and Peralta, they were seldom invited to the palace. Now a settled melancholy had come over Atahualpa, which however disguised, did not escape Cristoval. The depression of his captivity was increased by the enmity which the Spanish commander took no further pains to conceal. The grief of the Ñusta Rava for her brother, moreover, had thrown a gloom over the palace, and deeply concerned Atahualpa, who loved her with a brother's solicitude and felt her unhappiness more keenly than was apparent to one unable to penetrate the impassiveness of his bearing.

The princess fully returned his attachment. She had been much with him of late, and, with Toparca, had often taken part in his conversations with Cristoval—a favor seldom accorded to the other Spaniards, by whom the women of the Inca's family were rarely seen. Now she kept the seclusion of her apartments. Atahualpa missed her greatly, and Cristoval often found him profoundly gloomy and distraught. The cavalier encouraged him generously, doubtful himself, at times, of the commander's integrity, but daily more determined that the contract should be carried out.

The summer had passed its height. About the middle of February Almagro arrived with a hundred and fifty infantry and fifty horse, well equipped, and Pizarro found himself able to resume activity. He began preparations at once for the march to Cuzco. The ransom was almost made up, and it was thought best to divide it without delay and continue the campaign rather than give the Peruvians time to conceal their treasures, which, it was suspected, they were already doing. Before making the division it was necessary to reduce the whole to ingots of uniform standard, and resort was had to the Indian goldsmiths. They were set to work, but so great was the amount that a month passed before the task was finished. At last the splendid collection, representing years of work and the highest skill of native art, was a common heap of bars. These weighed, the Spaniards found themselves possessors of 1,326,539pesos de oro, more than fifteen million dollars of our present currency. To this there were 413,000 ounces of silver in addition.

The division was made with solemnity. The companies were formed in the square, and after invoking the Divine blessing upon the transaction, a fifth part—the royal fifth, it was called—was deducted to be sent to the Emperor Charles. The remainder was divided among the members of the expedition according to rank.

Cristoval found himself rich. His share would be worth to-day something over one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, but the humblest pikeman was more rejoiced than he. Peralta was not more indifferent to wealth than any other normal man, but this gold!—it was befouled. It reeked with the massacre. He surveyed the yellow bars as they lay in the treasure room of the palace, and thought of the captive prince, his friend. There he left it and went away, harassed by its allurement and the ignominy of its ownership.

The treasure having thus been satisfactorily apportioned, with or without the Divine blessing, the friends of Atahualpa held that his part of the contract was fulfilled. Hernando Pizarro, whose friendship for the monarch was outspoken, urged that he be given his promised liberty. Pizarro demurred. The time was inopportune. Word had been brought by a chief of the Cañares, a friendly tribe encamped in the valley, that an uprising was fomenting in the South. To release the Inca would be perilous for the present, but it would be done once tranquillity was assured. Meanwhile, the royal fifth must go to Spain. Would not Hernando be the bearer? It would be the most favorable of introductions at court, and if carried through with address, might lead to something,—who could tell? Three hundred thousand pesos laid gracefully at his Majesty's feet would smooth a way for the request, for example, that Peru be made a viceroyalty. A title for Hernando himself were not impossible.

The prospect was flattering, and the Inca's case easily laid aside. Hernando went forthwith.

His departure removed one embarrassment from the design which the commander secretly meditated in regard to the Inca, and which he knew Hernando would oppose with vigor. He would still have equally stanch supporters of the prisoner to deal with, but he trusted to circumstance to overcome or remove their influence. De Soto was the most formidable advocate of Atahualpa's cause. Soon after Hernando's departure, he and Cristoval went to the commander. They found Almagro there, and Riquelme, the royal treasurer, who had come with him from San Miguel. Mendoza and one or two others came in shortly afterward.

"The Inca beginneth to chafe, General," said De Soto, "over his delayed freedom. Several days have passed since the division of the ransom, but he awaiteth intimation that his captivity is near its end. May I not bear him some assurance?"

"Not now, Soto," replied Pizarro, impatiently. "Let him wait. As a matter of fact, he hath not yet made up the amount he promised. It was short, considerably, of reaching the line on the wall."

"What!" exclaimed De Soto, bluntly. "Wilt thou make excuse of that? Thou knowest that waiting would have brought the full sum; and thou knowest, besides, it will be made up tenfold when we reach Cuzco. A poor pretext, Pizarro, I'll be bound!"

Pizarro shrugged. De Soto eyed him sharply, waiting for his response. Pizarro shrugged again, and said: "Bien! I'll not hold the Inca for that, Soto. I'll acquit him of the rest of the obligation, but ask not his freedom now. Thou hast heard of the tribes in the South, and to-day cometh news that an army lieth at Quito, with thirty thousand Caribs ready to join. I doubt not that this Señor Inca is party to it. If it so proveth, by Heaven, he shall pay dearly for his treachery!"

"Rumors and yet more rumors!" exclaimed De Soto, contemptuously. "Santa Madre! How long shall we entertain these cries of wolf, Pizarro? A rising of the Indios, forsooth! A spectre to be laid daily! With five men I could ride to Cuzco. Give the order, and I will go."

Pizarro regarded him thoughtfully. "It might be well advised, Soto—not with five men, but with thy troop; and not so far as Cuzco, but to Guamachucho, whence the rumors come. The reconnaissance could be made in a week—there and return. Let us say, ten days without hard marching. Thou couldst start to-morrow? Very well.—And Peralta, thou hast knowledge of the Quichua.Excellente! I will think of it."

When De Soto and Cristoval had departed Pizarro swore an oath. "But for the qualms of those two and half-a-dozen others," he fumed, "we need not fash ourselves about this accursed proud heathen king. I would snuff him out, for by the faith! I had liefer trust myself with a wounded bear than set him loose to bring his hordes to our destruction. He is a mad bull held by the horns. I can neither hold him nor let him go. Were it not for him we could be on the march to Cuzco; but as 't is, we dare not leave him under such guard as we can spare, nor can safely take him with us."

"Then why shilly-shally?" demanded Almagro. "A bit of steel between his ribs, or a hitch of rope about his neck, and we are disencumbered. My life! I see no complexity in that."

"But De Soto hath his troop at his back, Almagro, and an embroglio now would put us in bad case. Many of the men would be but lukewarm for the Inca's death. Since they have his gold they shout, 'Viva el Inca!' and affect a friendliness."

"Ah!" scoffed Riquelme. "The fleeting dim gratitude of jackals with bellies full! 'T is easily chilled. Stir up fresh rumors. Incite alarms. Put them forty-eight hours under arms on guard, then hear them yelp and snarl. When they bay in full chorus, bring charges against the Inca. Try him in court with all grave show and pertinent solemnity. When De Soto and Peralta return, show them a royal grave."

"The soul and essence of good counsel, Riquelme, and most crisply put!" exclaimed Almagro, half admiringly, half in contempt. "Thou 'rt a man of parts, my friend, and fit to intrigue with cardinals, prime ministers, and favorites of kings—or to be a barrister! Ha! Leave it to Riquelme, Pizarro."

Pizarro looked from one to another without replying. He smiled, and his smile was not pleasant to look upon. Instructing the sentinel at the door that no one should be admitted, he drew his chair close to his visitors.

The council was long. At its close Pizarro said: "Well, think upon it overnight and come again to-morrow. There are charges enough to answer our purpose, and we have only to put them into form.Cara! This device is luckily hit upon, Señores, and we'll perfect its members. Say not a word of it to any man. Now I'll issue an order for De Soto's march. That was a hint opportunely offered. He was in the way, and, curse him! I saw no means of being quit of his importunities.—Adiós, gentlemen. I thank you for your good counsel."

De Soto received marching orders that evening, and he and Cristoval spent the greater part of the night in the preparation of the troop. In the morning, Cristoval hurried to take leave of the Inca. The hour was early, and the latter had not come from his private apartments. After a few minutes' conversation with the nobles in the anteroom of the small salon where Atahualpa received his friends informally, Cristoval entered. In a moment he saw the nobles sink to their knees. Their sovereign was approaching. Atahualpa paused for a word of greeting, and entered the room where the cavalier stood waiting. Seeing Cristoval in full armor, he asked anxiously as he advanced,—

"What is this, Viracocha Cristoval? Thou 'rt equipped as for battle! I trust nothing hath occurred, or is about to occur."

"Nothing, my lord. I have come to bid you a short farewell. I go with De Soto on a few days' journey. We ride to Guamachucho."

"To Guamachucho! Why to Guamachucho?"

"Merely to prove to Pizarro that another rumor which hath reached his ears is without foundation, my Lord Inca. He gave his promise yesterday to release you the moment he feeleth secure, and we go to hasten his assurance. We will return to see you at liberty and rejoice with you, my lord."

Atahualpa made no immediate reply, but stood with arms folded, his eyes bent gloomily upon the floor. At length he asked, "Your going is voluntary?"

"Entirely so, my Lord Inca. It was De Soto's suggestion. He offered, to prove the good will of your people, to ride to Cuzco almost alone. So long a journey being needless, we make this shorter one."

The cloud deepened upon the Inca's brow. Finally he said, half meditatively: "I fear it is unfortunate. The Viracocha Hernando, who, I believe, was my friend, hath gone. Now thou and De Soto go. I would it were otherwise, Viracocha Cristoval."

Cristoval divined the cause of his misgiving. "Nay, my lord," he said earnestly, "the circumstance hath no import, believe me. You have many other friends in the army. Yesterday I heard the soldiers shouting, 'Long live the Inca!' Moreover, Pizarro hath given you formal quittance of your ransom. Have you not heard of it?"

"I have heard."

"You will receive the paper to-day; and now nothing delayeth your liberty but Pizarro's uneasiness about the feeling among your subjects. We shall remove that uncertainty, and when we meet again, my lord, it will be on the eve of your freedom."

Atahualpa turned his dark eyes upon him. "My friend," he said gravely, "we shall not meet again!—Nay, hear me! I know what thou wouldst say, but I am right. This is our last meeting.—Be silent!" he interrupted, with some sternness, when Cristoval essayed to speak. "I do not say this to hear thy protests; and let us not waste words, for time is fleeting. When you return, I shall be—not here. I have been forewarned. My life is near its close. Enough! I do not fear to die. I would say naught of this, but there is something I would ask of thee."

He paused, and for a moment his eyes looked searchingly into those of the cavalier. When he resumed it was as if satisfied with the scrutiny, and he spoke in the tone he might have used to a brother.

"There is something I would ask of thee. Thou hast been my friend, as I believe in my heart. Of all these unknown around me I have felt that I know thee, Viracocha Cristoval, and I know that I can entrust to thee now my dearest wish. It is this: I shall leave behind me many loved ones, and among them the Ñusta Rava. Promise me thou wilt be to her what thou wouldst wish a friend to be to thy best beloved sister. Toparca hath not his strength. None of my people can aid her as well as thou in time of need. Guard her life until thou canst convey her to safety. Above all, guard her honor. Promise me this. Nay, promise me more. She will be surrounded by a thousand perils—give thy word thou'lt be ready to lay down thy life to save her unharmed; and, should all else fail, that thou wilt, at the end of hope, plunge thy dagger to her heart, rather than surrender her to dishonor. Give me thy promise. I ask it as a soldier of a soldier, Viracocha Cristoval."

Cristoval, moved to the depths of his chivalrous soul by the earnest appeal of this splendid despot, who had never before laid aside his majesty to ask a boon of mortal man, but who now addressed him with a brother's prayer for the sanctity of his sister, offered his hand. It was taken by the monarch, and for the moment they stood regarding one another, no longer as prince and conquistador, Inca and Spaniard, but as men.

"My Lord Inca," said Cristoval, "I swear by all I hold most sacred to spare neither my blood nor my life in her defence!"

"It is enough, my friend. I thank thee. I demand much of thy friendship. How I can ask it of one who hath come with mine enemies, with full assurance that I ask it not in vain, only He who shineth into all men's hearts can say. I trust thee, Viracocha Cristoval. Now go! May the infinite and unknown Pachacamac watch over thee! Farewell. But wait—take this!—it will serve thee." He unwound thellautufrom his head and detached a bit of its crimson fringe. "Preserve it! It will be thy safeguard to the farthest borders of Tavantinsuyu. Farewell!"

CHAPTER XII

Vengeance Foiled

Although Cristoval could not share the Inca's mistrust of Pizarro's faith, he was profoundly impressed by his words of farewell, spoken with such firm conviction. They saddened him despite his confidence in his commander, and as he crossed the court his steps lagged while he pondered the possibility of remaining in Caxamalca. His deliberation was ended by the trumpets of his troop sounding in the plaza. It was too late now, at any rate, and he hurried on. He was arrested by hearing his name called timidly, and turning, saw one of the Princess Rava's maidens hastening toward him.

"Viracocha," she said, "my mistress sendeth greeting, and prayeth a few words."

"Most gladly," replied Cristoval. "Wilt lead me to her?"

He followed her to the garden, and a few paces brought them to the princess. She rose as they approached, and Cristoval regarded her with new interest. He noted with sympathy the traces of care and grief, wondering at the heightened womanliness they had produced, and suddenly recognizing in her that rare nature whose gentlest and fairest attributes are perfected by sorrow. Cristoval had not known many good women in his adventurous career, but he had discovered this quality with increased reverence for womankind. He observed it now in this girl of a strange and new-found race, and thought to himself, "Well, God save them, they are all sisters, whatever their blood—and the burden of sorrow worked by men's misdeeds falleth always most heavily upon them!"

As he drew near he was struck more than ever by her beauty, which had impressed him at first by its warmth and exuberance. Now, softened and chastened by sadness, the fire and pride which had once shone in her dark eyes had given way to a gentle pathos and appeal which touched his kindly heart. As he bent over the extended hand he renewed to himself the vow he had made to her brother a short while before.

"Viracocha Cristoval," she said, with hesitation, "I am sure that you will pardon my sending for you. I have just learned that you are going away."

"For a short journey, Ñusta Rava."

"I pray it may be a safe one," she answered. "I will delay you only a moment. I would ask if you can tell me aught of the fate in store for my brother, the Inca." She looked up to him with eyes deepening with anxiety, and faltered, "He will say nothing, but I can see his sadness, which hath grown upon him with every day of deferred hope since the payment of his ransom. Hath he cause for this? Do you know, Viracocha Cristoval?"

"I know nothing, Ñusta Rava, to cause him apprehension. On the contrary, General Pizarro hath renewed his promise to give him freedom, and, we trust, in a very few days. I have told him this, but he rejecteth the offered hope. He saith he hath been forewarned of pending evil. I know not how."

"Alas! Said he so?" moaned the princess, her eyes filling. "Then what I have been told is true! Ah, my unhappy brother!" and she sank sobbing upon the bench.

"What hath she been told?" demanded Cristoval, turning to the maid; but the girl, too, was in tears, and incapable of reply. He stepped to Rava's side. "Ñusta Rava," he said urgently, "pray tell me. Is it anything of evil from Pizarro regarding the Inca? If so—"

She shook her head. "No, no!" she replied, brokenly; "but a few evenings ago he beheld a falling star of unusual splendor, and called to mind that shortly before the death of our father a similar sign was given. The death of an Inca is heralded by strange portents, Viracocha."

Cristoval was relieved. "Nay, my princess!" he said consolingly, "heed it not. Such signs are but the wiles of the devil—are but chance appearances. I have seen a thousand falling stars. They are for children and old women to talk about at firesides. Oh, I beg of you, restrain your tears! Take courage! Hear me, Ñusta Rava! De Soto and myself and half-a-score of others have witnessed Pizarro's oath to set your brother free. He awaiteth only assurance that your people are at peace. A few days hence the Inca shall have his liberty. Pizarro is a man of honor."

She controlled herself with an effort, and, brushing away her tears, presently looked up. "Forgive my weakness, Viracocha Cristoval. I fear my heart is overburdened. One blow hath fallen upon another until the world is dark."

"I know what your sorrows have been," replied Cristoval, kindly, "but I believe one, at least, is near its end."

"Oh, I thank you for your words of hope!" she murmured. "I feared that a change in your leader's purpose had brought my brother's heaviness of heart. I will try to cheer him."

"Do so. Assure him that he hath other friends among Spaniards besides myself. It is true."

"He is sure of you, Viracocha Cristoval," she said gratefully. "But now, let me keep you no longer. I heard a trumpet some minutes ago. It called you, did it not?"

"It called me, Ñusta Rava."

"Then you must go. I pray the Sun may brighten your way and give you safe return."

"Farewell, and Heaven guard you, Ñusta Rava!" He touched her fingers with his lips and hastened away.

As he passed up the avenue the trumpets were sounding the "Mount," and in his haste he failed to notice a burly figure in the shelter of a by-path. It was Mendoza. He had been waiting Pizarro's return from seeing the departure of De Soto's troop, and, presuming upon the commander's determination to make away with the Inca, whom Mendoza already considered as good as dead, he had invaded the forbidden precincts of the garden. Perceiving Cristoval and the Princess Rava, he had stepped unobserved into the shrubbery, and watched the interview with a scowling sneer.

"Aha, my conscientious buck cavalier!" he muttered, peering out as Cristoval strode away. "Stolen meetings with Her Highness? Tears and kissed hands at parting? By the fiend, that smelleth of romance!—And we have been wondering at thy continence, thou cursed sly dog, whilst thou hast been spreading thy net for the very pick of the flock! Oho! But wait!—let us see,amigo mio! Methinks the cards are to be dealt again, and thou'lt have no hand.—And thou dost nurse so charitable an interest in the Señorita Ñusta's brother? Hum! And I have stumbled upon its source thus unexpectedly? Even so!Bien! But,adiós, my gallant. Thou'lt find more than one change on thy return to Caxamalca,—among others, a division of spoil upon which thou 'rt not counting, whereof I see a pearl to which I'll lay claim in Pizarro's ear this very morning.—She cometh this way, now! I'll step out and give her greeting. Curse me! why have I not learned a few words of her heathen tongue? I know but three,—curi, gold;collque, silver; andchicha. Good words, but not suited to the present need. However,no importa—let it pass. Much can be said in dumb show. We'll make it answer. Now, let us see if we cannot be made to forget our Cristoval."

Giving a twirl to his mustachios and a touch to the sallow ruff around his neck, Mendoza stepped into the avenue, and made a well-feigned start of surprise when his eyes rested upon the approaching princess. Off came Mendoza's sombrero, and he bowed until its plume lay on the ground.

"Your gracious Highness," he murmured in Spanish, with his hand on his heart, "I am your slave. The devil take me if I know how to make you understand it, but 't is so, my lady bird, my chickadee, and I would swear it, could I but formulate an oath which you could grasp in your benightedness."

The princess, happily unconscious of the disrespect in the words, but indignant at his intrusion, responded with a barely perceptible inclination of her head, and passed on. But Mendoza was not to be easily rebuffed. Striding after her, he gained her side.

"But stay, my haughty pagan lady!" he exclaimed, his forced smile only half concealing the wickedness in his eyes. "Not so fast, pretty one! Let us talk;—or if we cannot talk, let us make signs.Caramba! Let us be acquainted!" and he placed his hand upon her arm.

The princess shrank as if from a reptile, turning with a look of indignant scorn that daunted even the case-hardened Mendoza, while a scream from the maid brought him fully to his senses. He halted, and Rava went her way with burning cheeks, leaving the Spaniard staring after her discomfited.

"Jesu!" he exclaimed, beneath his breath. He replaced his sombrero over one ear and spread his legs wide apart, one hand upon his hip, the other depressing the hilt of his rapier until its point rose to the level of his shoulder.

"Cara! There is a sudden chilliness hereabouts. Did I feel a cool breeze from the mountains, or was it a freezing glance? No matter, Señorita Ñusta Rava, my dark beauty—no matter! We'll score that in the account against this Cristoval. And, withal, proud loveliness is much to my taste. There's a zest in subjugating.—Hola! Who the devil is this?"

Pedro, crossing the lower end of the court, had met the princess, and noticing her indignation and the trepidation of her maid, suspected that some drunken soldier had been trespassing. He stepped quickly through the shrubbery and came upon Mendoza, still in his jaunty pose. Pedro divined the situation in the instant. Halting, he tilted his toque over his ear, placed his hand upon his hip, spread his good leg wide from its fellow, and stood surveying Mendoza with concentrated insolence, in a grotesque caricature of the latter's attitude. Mendoza, in turn, regarded the cook in surprise, then colored with anger as he realized the tableau in which he was taking part. He adjusted himself hastily and opened his lips to deliver an imprecation upon the cook's head. He thought better of it, remembering Pizarro's stern order against intrusion upon the privacy of the garden, and an injunction, yet more stern, against affronting the women of the court. He swallowed the curse for discretion's sake, and in the effort produced a grimace which he hoped Pedro might accept for a smile.

"Thou 'rt a droll fellow, Pedro," he said with forced lightness, and stalked away. Pedro followed him with his eyes, his attitude unchanged.

"Ah!" he growled. "A droll fellow, am I not, thou scurvy picaroon! Had I my blade thou shouldst find me twice more droll, my dastardly rough-handler of women, for I would tickle thy ribs most humorously before thou shouldst leave this garden. Slink off, caught-dog! I'll have an eye on thee.—A droll fellow! By the faith, it must be so, for naught but drollery could wrench a smile so misbegotten, crump, and bandy as that of thine! Thou didst grin like a kicked hat. An old boot could smile more mirthfully. Pedro must be droll, to give thee such a toad's smirk, Mendoza!" He straightened his toque and stumped back to his quarters.

Meanwhile De Soto's troop, with armor glinting, guidon and pennons fluttering, and trumpets sounding a spirited quickstep, marched out of the square on its way to Guamachucho. At the end of the second day the Spaniards entered the town. They found it a small place, unfortified, and without a sign of the reported rising of the people.

A thorough reconnaissance of the country about occupied the next two days, for De Soto was determined that no doubt concerning its quiet should remain. At midnight of the second day he was seated with Cristoval in the latter's quarters, discussing the expedition and planning for the morrow, to be spent in reconnoitring the country farther south,—then a day of rest, and the return march to Caxamalca. Cristoval rose to make his rounds when they heard a hurried step in the patio, and a soldier entered, followed by achasqui. The youth was breathing heavily, and as he entered the lamplight his body glistened with perspiration.

"The Viracocha Cristoval?" panted thechasqui, looking from one to the other and drawing a paper from his pouch.

"Here!" said Cristoval. Taking the paper, he hastily broke the seal, reading the contents with alarm and rage. He finished and thrust it toward De Soto, who was anxiously watching his expression.

"Read that, Soto!" he shouted, "and learn the black treachery we have left behind!"

De Soto seized the paper. It was from Pedro.


Back to IndexNext