She cowered away, glaring in terror and anger, but with no word. He halted again, and lost his voice, standing before her helpless in a sudden fear. "Rava!" he cried in desperation. "Rava! in God's name, child, hast forgotten me?"—Then thought of his visor and raised it.
Her expression changed slowly to one of wonder and unbelief, and she raised her hand to her heart, growing suddenly more pallid. In the semi-darkness of the room she was uncertain until he spoke her name again. Then she stretched forth her hands, took a step forward, and sank with a sob into the arms of the Ñusta Ocllo.
In a second Cristoval had her in his own, pressing his lips to hers, to her forehead, and to her eyes until she opened them; but quite too choked himself to speak—this stalwart cavalier!—and half blinded by something he feared she would see.
"Oh—is it thou, my Cristoval?" she murmured, raising her hand to touch his swarthy cheek, only half-convinced by her eyes. "Ah, my love, I thought thee forever lost!" and in a passion of weeping she put her arms about the steel-covered neck, pressing her cheek upon his breastplate, insensible to its cold and hardness, conscious only of a joy beyond belief.
They were oblivious of those around them, of the din of battle coming through the open door; forgetful of all but one another, and might have remained fatally so, had not the Auqui Paullo rushed in, followed at once by Pedro and Father Valverde. The bishop had been disarmed, and was flaming with rage. The youth, wild-eyed, and pale with the excitement of the night, halted at the astounding spectacle of his sister embracing a Viracocha. Before he had recovered, Mocho dashed in and seized his arm.
"Auqui Paullo," cried the general, "there is no moment to lose! Assemble the women and get them to the gate. Hasten!"
Mocho in armor was unrecognized. Paullo wrenched himself free and demanded angrily, "Who art thou?"
"Oh, Supay!—I am Mocho! Fly, Paullo!—Cristoval; do not tarry. Lead the Ñusta to the gate."
Paullo stared for a second, then hurried out to collect the rest of the household. Mocho turned to the wailing women. Cristoval was gently forcing Rava toward the door when Father Valverde, as suspicious of the cavalier as of any other soldier, interposed. Planting himself in front of the two, he commanded sternly:—
"Peralta, forbear! Release the maiden. She remaineth here."