The Ñusta Rava, quite unaware, fortunately, of the agitation with which Manco had quitted her, worn out by stress of mind and the weariness of her journey, at length found forgetfulness in sleep. The next day and evening were spent with her sisters and the Auqui Paullo, but Manco did not return, though he sent a page with inquiries for her health. The day following, and the next, her hope to see him was disappointed. At length he came.
The first glance from his gloomy eyes chilled the warmth from her words as she started to meet him, and she stopped, her smile of welcome fading into startled inquiry. The Inca dismissed the maids, and motioned her to her seat, neither avoiding nor heeding her hand as she laid it hesitatingly upon his arm, nor replying to the question in her face.
The interview was not long nor violent, but when he left and sent in her maids, they found her unconscious. The last of many woes had snapped the frail thread of courage that had sustained her. Manco had questioned her about the crucifix, had requested that she abjure the abhorred religion, had been refused as firmly as gently. His respect for her had prohibited command or reproach, but the coldness of his farewell and its finality had been a stab more cruel than the most passionate denunciation.
The next day Rava did not rise, nor the next, nor for many days thereafter. The amautas came—wise men—three of them. They noted her fever, listened a moment to her delirium, consulted, and administered the simple remedies known to the Peruvian pharmacopoeia. These were few and mostly harmless, so nature fought for her with few hindrances from drugs, and with all the assistance that nursing could give. But it was a long and dreary struggle before the unseeing eyes at last looked sadly but clearly at her attendants, and her whispered words grew intelligible. Almost the first were "Father Valverde," and the maids looked in wonder. But she repeated the name until the priest was sent for and came.
Father Valverde, now Bishop of Cuzco, was an elderly man, well preserved and well fed, with a rugged, determined face, a great slit of a mouth with good lines about it; keen eyes which could look stern beneath their shaggy brows when occasion demanded, or amiably and humorously upon opportunity, and with an ability to storm at lawless soldiery in terms suited to their understanding and their needs with a vigor that would have been creditable to Chrysostom. He was a rabid hater of the devil. Next to the devil he hated an unbeliever. A missionary of fanatical type, he could burn a heathen at the stake for the good of his unassoilzied soul with easy conscience and some satisfaction. But he could, withal, rejoice sincerely over a soul rescued from damnation, and did rejoice over a letter from Father Tendilla regarding the Ñusta Rava. The missive, after the usual salutation and some preliminary words, ran as follows:—
"I will leave her long story to a fitter time, and say merely that I found her already a Christian, having been brought to the Faith by the Caballero Cristoval de Peralta, whom thou knowest well. And not only a Christian in belief, but what is more admirable, in fibre, inclination, and bent of mind; being, in truth, a most gentle, saintly girl. I had the ineffable satisfaction of baptizing and receiving her into Holy Communion. Thereafter, she worked with me earnestly in the conversion of her people here, and departed with the hope of pursuing the same good work in Cuzco. I pray, therefore, that thou attend upon her. She hath many sorrows. One is the death of this Cristoval.
"Now, I have thought of this concerning the Ñusta Rava, and having broached it gently, found it received not with disfavor and even gratefully, to wit: that as thou dost plan to found, as soon as may be, a convent at Cuzco, she might be led to embrace a holy life. Her preparation, begun here, could be completed at Panama, or even at Seville, where she would doubtless enjoy the interest and favor to which her rank entitleth her."
There followed items of personal concern, and the letter closed. The interest aroused in the mind of Father Valverde was immediate and effective, and once admitted to the palace, he devoted himself to the work so well begun by Cristoval and Tendilla. Like his brother missionaries, he possessed a knowledge of medicine, and was able to hasten Rava's convalescence. It need not be said that he found her all that Tendilla had described, and the desolate girl received his fatherly ministrations with a grateful heart.
CHAPTER XXVII
The Incarial Diadem on a Spanish Saddle-bow