CHAPTER XXVI—THE MOUNTAIN SPEAKS
“Come on, Dad,” cried Jack. “Come on, fellows. Let’s join him. We’re in a bad hole here.”
So astounded was the crowd about them by this new development, that, for the moment, it had forgotten the fainting of the Inca, forgotten the strangers. It was their chance. Whipping out their automatics, the eight, close together, burst through the fringe about them on the edge of the terrace and darted down the steps.
“Run, Prince,” cried Mr. Hampton, in Spanish. “Run for the fortress. We are your friends. We follow.”
Prince Huaca heard, glanced their way, and then stood stock-still in amazement. He had known nothing of their presence. But sufficient that they were at hand and were coming to his rescue. A smile of joy broke forth on his face. Instead of starting directly across the square, he dashed along the face of the steps of the Temple toward them.
Tumultuous cries broke out behind them now, and Bob and Jack, who brought up the rear, facing about, saw the mob of courtiers and soldiers, intermingled, start down the steps after them. One man was ahead of the others. He was Captain Guascar. Sword uplifted, unhindered by heavy armor as were his warriors, he came bounding down, three steps at a time.
“I don’t like his looks, anyway,” Bob cried to Jack. “Here’s where I spoil ’em.”
And, turning suddenly, the big fellow leaped back up the steps, dashed in under Guascar’s up-raised sword, seized him about the waist, and with one mighty heave tossed his body into the face of the oncoming horde.
The flying form crashed into an armor-clad soldier and the two fell to the steps, bringing down still others who stumbled over them, unable to turn aside. In a trice the mass piled up.
“Run Bob, run,” cried Jack, who had paused and turned back a step or two, revolver raised, to help his comrade with a shot, if necessary.
Big Bob grinned, leaped back to Jack’s side, and the two raced down the steps.
This temporary diversion created by Bob’s unexpected attack had given the others a good start. Their figures were out on the great square, darting for the distant fortress. Prince Huaca had joined them. The fall of the High Priest Cinto, shot down so unexpectedly by the prince, likewise had delayed pursuit from the Temple, as the soldiers had paused uncertainly, mystified as to this new form of death wielded by the prince.
Mr. Hampton at first had not noticed the absence of his son and Bob, being interested in speeding on the others and in sweeping the prince into their party. But as they started across the square, he looked back to assure himself the boys were following. He was just in time to see Bob’s mighty heave, and the ruin which it wrought.
“Go on,” he cried to the others. “We’ll follow.”
And he waited for the approach of the two lads.
When they came up, he started running swiftly with them.
“Great stuff, Bob,” he cried. “I saw it. You certainly piled them up.”
To gain the fortress seemed a simple matter, for pursuit was so far behind that it could not catch up with them, and the reunited party was congratulating itself on a safe return when, as they drew near the foot of the Acropolis, shots began to fly overhead and they saw a party of soldiers, armed with the ancient rifles, cutting obliquely from the mouth of a street on the left side of the square to intercept them.
“We’ll have to fight for it, after all,” panted Don Ernesto, upon whom the pace was beginning to tell.
But a cheer went up from Frank:
“Michac to the rescue. Hurray.”
Out of the little sally port at the foot of the rock, reached by the stairway hewn from the living rock, came the band posted there by Michac upon their departure for just such an emergency. In the face of the fire of this troop, the band of pursuers fell back.
A moment or two later, Prince Huaca was recognized by his soldiers with cries of joy. Casting the restraints of discipline aside, they seized him, raised him aloft in their arms with cries of “Huaca, Huaca.” Some even wept while pressing their lips to his feet.
Then, alarmed by the near approach of the main body of pursuers, they put him down and all joined in a final dash for the sally port. It was gained without casualties, although several shots whistled about them, indicating the nobles had been re-enforced by some of the foot soldiers armed with guns. The great gate clanged to behind them, and the pursuers fell back, baffled.
They were safe. Safe, after incredible adventures.
“Whew,” said Bob, sitting down on the cool stone steps. “That was a hot one while it lasted.”
Michac came running down the steps to meet them. He and Prince Huaca embraced. Then the prince led the way up through the tunneled stairway, lighted by torches taken from the guard room at the gate, to the fortress above.
Another moving scene was enacted in the main guard room, where the soldiers, laughing or weeping, according to their various temperaments, gathered about their leader. The prince was as much moved at this demonstration of esteem. At length, he broke away from them and, asking Michac and the others to accompany him, led the way to his apartment.
There, while servants brought them refreshments of wine and cooling drinks made from fruit juices, the various threads of their intertwined adventures were straightened out.
“First of all,” said he to Michac, “how came you here, my friend?”
When Michac explained, Prince Huaca embraced him.
“The fortress would have fallen but for you,” he said. “And these good friends here and I would have been slain.”
Michac flushed and turned the subject to that of the exploits of the others, whom he heartily praised. When he told of how they had ventured forth to the Inca’s court and put themselves in the power of Cinto and the Palace Guard, in order to endeavor to obtain Prince Huaca’s release, the latter was much affected.
Mr. Hampton in his turn related what had occurred at their audience. And when he spoke of the impression created by the false eye, false teeth and false hair, nothing would do but that the whole performance be restaged for Prince Huaca. The key had been supplied him and, of course, he was not frightened. At Jack’s explanation, added to by the others, of the consternation which this exhibition had caused, he laughed heartily.
“Indeed, I can well believe it,” he said. Then he sobered: “Ah, but how wonderful that men should be able to do these things. I myself had an aching tooth for long. Certainly, these blessings must come to Cusco Hurrin.”
He, in turn, related his own adventures. Surprised the previous night while he slept, he had been bound and gagged and carried out of the fortress by the sally port, the officer of which had turned traitor. For the occasion, this officer had reduced the guard to a half dozen men and had sent these into the guard room on some pretext. That he intended to admit the enemy as soon as Prince Huaca’s capture was assured, the prince was convinced. Why, he asked, had plans miscarried? Why had the enemy not entered?
“The soldiers became suspicious,” answered Michac. “When you were carried out, bound, although they did not at first know it was you, they leaped for the gate and managed to close it in the face of the enemy. Then the treacherous officer was overcome, and the guard room roused in time to prevent other traitorous officers from throwing open the main gate.”
“These men——”
The prince half rose from his chair, his face dark.
“They have been attended to,” said Michac, simply, but significantly.
“And then what, Prince Huaca?” asked Mr. Hampton. “What did they do with you?”
“My life, though once attempted by an assassin,” said Prince Huaca, “was spared. Why, I know not.”
“The man I captured wasn’t an assassin, Prince Huaca,” said Bob. “At least Senor Michac so stated. But he can tell you.”
Michac nodded, and briefly related what had since been learned or suspected, that the man was one of the band to spirit Prince Huaca away.
“At any rate,” continued the prince, “I was imprisoned in Cinto’s chambers in the Temple, and considered that, perhaps, I was to be made a sacrifice to the Sun God. You know, Senor Hampton, that Michac and I and numbers of others in Cusco Hurrin are not idolators, but worship the true God as revealed in the teachings of the Spanish Fathers who came centuries ago with de Arguello. It is one of my grievances that the Inca permits himself to be dominated by this Cinto, who continues the old idolatrous religion because of the hold it gives him upon the people.
“There, to continue, I was held close prisoner under guard, although my bonds were removed. Yet the little weapon you gave me”—and he drew out the automatic—“was not taken from me. I but awaited my chance. ‘If I must die,’ I said to myself, ‘I shall attempt to take Cinto and Guascar with me and thus rid my land of their curse.’
“Today, only a little while ago, Cinto came to my room. And he was greatly enraged and frightened, too. Why, I did not know. For I did not know of your presence. He had not spoken of it. He ordered the guards to take me from the Temple precincts, and I knew he meant to have me slain but feared to stain the Temple with my blood, lest the people turn against him. I resolved to use my weapon to escape, if possible, but, if that could not be done, at least to slay Cinto too.
“They took me to the portico of the Temple, and then I shot down my two guards, broke away, and, as I ran, turned and shot Cinto. You know the rest.”
As he ceased speaking, there was a rumble as of distant thunder, and the floor beneath them swayed slightly but perceptibly.