"I do not. I had not thought of it, Pedro."
"Not thought of it! of course not," returned Pedro, with irritation. "'T is what I have said—always charging into trouble, head down and eyes shut!" He regarded the cavalier with great disapproval. "On my soul, I know not whether 't is prudent to leave thee, with thy capacities for indiscretion! However—well—with the aid of the Indio who hath attended me, I've figured this multitude kin of thine, Cristoval, and Heaven fend thee from ever having them dependent upon thy support! Man, we counted three hundred, and more to tally, and without considering the concubines the Señor Inca is entitled by law to acquire—and all of them royal, by the eternal broiler!" His expression changed to commiseration. "Thou 'rt the worst relative-beridden Christian in my knowledge, amigo! and but one among them who is not a pagan! I tell thee, Cristoval, if thou dost rightly by thy family, thou'lt give over soldiering and turn missionary! But farewell, old friend, and God with thee! It grieveth me to leave thee."
Cristoval watched the hamaca out of sight, stood looking into Pedro's vacant tent, and returned slowly to his own.
In the palace of Yucay, in a chamber from which he could overlook the verdant and beautiful valley, ministered to by solicitous attendants, and visited by Rava, Pedro mended steadily. His gentle hostess spent many hours beside his couch with her maids about her, busy with embroidery and going white and red over it as he recounted Cristoval's adventures, enumerated his virtues, and mildly deprecated his rashness. Rava had daily messages by chasqui from her cavalier, and repeated the news, or brought the bearer himself. She had not seen Cristoval since the removal of the barrier between them, but in her happiness and implicit faith in her prayers for his safety, she waited with patience for what now seemed assured. Of the ultimate triumph of the arms of Tavantinsuyu she had no doubt.
One morning she came into Pedro's room with more than usual animation and said with a smile: "Pedro, to-day thou shalt see two of thy friends. I have sent for them, and have word of their coming. Canst think who they are?"
"Two friends of mine, Ñusta Rava? 'T is easily guessed. One is Cristoval, but who the other—"
Rava shook her head archly. "Not so good a friend as Cristoval—but I will tell thee. One is Father Tendilla, and the other—"
Pedro rose suddenly upon his elbow and startled her with his expression as he whispered with explosive force, "Bolio?"
Rava surveyed him with concern, and replied gravely: "Father Tendilla and my dear Margarita. I thought it would give thee pleasure."
Pedro sank back and drummed on the coverlet with his fingers. "Oh! It doth, Ñusta Rava. It doth give me pleasure. So would a fly-blister, had I lumbago—a figure of speech, Señorita, give it no weight. Hum! The señora!" He startled her again with a spasm intended for a smile, and resumed with some constraint: "Ha! The señora, did you say, Señorita Ñusta? Stew—Well, the señora is a good soul, my head on't. A bit rampant and superheated, look you, but altogether good-hearted, and I'll—I'll be glad—be glad to see her once more—baste me with hot tallow if I'll not—prithee, let that pass too: it hath no significance. Infierno!—I—I mean, Paraiso! But," he raised himself again and continued earnestly, "but, Ñusta Rava, would you as lief have the servants tell her I am full of holes and like to leak red gore in a thousand places if so much as a finger be laid against me, or my nerves be wrought upon? She is impulsive, Señorita, surcharged and double-shotted with impulse, and when she findeth me in this present state there is no knowing what sympathy may lead her to say, or do.—Pure exuberance of feeling, mind you! but I misdoubt me if my wasted frame would stand the stress.—And kindly have her told I am subject to spells, of late, and ofttimes bite. And that—but, no: never mind it—I'll advise the servants myself." Pedro lay back, quite breathless, muttering: "The señora! The señora! Ah! diablo! This is what cometh of being—But she is a kindly-hearted woman, and 't would be graceless in me to deny it."