"Ah, pity of Heaven!" sobbed the lady, rocking herself. "I fear thou liest to some extent, Pedro, but I knew harm was to come of it when I left thee with that bandit, Cristoval. But may I not come nearer, chiquito?"
"Presently," said Pedro, softened, "but approach by easy stages, and not too near. I am better, my dear. Take heart, now, there's a good soul; and we will talk—but at a distance, look thou! or I'll be thrown into a fit. Hast been well?"
"As well," said the señora, drying her eyes, "as a lone woman in an infidel country with naught but a cleaver to give her courage o' nights and a helpless innocent of a priest to look after like a baby, and not a dress fit to put on her back save this, borrowed from a heathen woman whose name I cannot pronounce, could be."
"Ah!" said Pedro, with sympathy.
"Thou didst wrong to leave me, Pedro, and see what it hath come to! But who fired the gun at thee? I'll seek him out, as he liveth!"
"Now, toast me on a bodkin!" retorted Pedro. "Dost fancy I went back to ask his name? It would have escaped me by percolation had I heard it. I was a-leak on all sides, top and bottom, like a lobster-pot fresh-hauled. So thoroughly did he riddle me, Señora, that I could not have held a secret grief, or a good intention. But let the man go, my dear. He that loaded the gun hath half the responsibility."
"I'll find them both!" said the lady, with resolution.
The entrance of Father Tendilla ended the conversation, and Pedro heaved a sigh of relief. Thereafter, the señora usurped the role of nurse, chiding him gently for exaggerating his hurts when she learned their real extent, but caring for him faithfully.
Week after week the siege went on, fierce, bloody, and relentless. Sorties were attempted, savagely opposed. The defences of the Spaniards were assaulted, fought over with the fury of hate and desperation, and the assailants repulsed. To the Peruvians, the loss in each attack was sickening, but they returned with valor undaunted, until the Inca in humanity ordered a cessation and determined to reduce the enemy by famine.
Cristoval, in the meanwhile, yet unfit to resume his armor, gave his time to training a number of warriors in the riding school and the use of arms on horseback. Fearless, agile, and adaptable, they acquired the horseman's art with the readiness with which it was learned by the tribes of the North American plains, and by constant drill the cavalier produced a squad of riders, equipped with captured arms and mail, which was destined to prove formidable. The Peruvians, trained with the battle-axe and shield, easily exchanged these for mace and buckler; but Cristoval soon found that for a skilful use of the lance months would be required, and he was forced to see that weapon laid aside. Of all his pupils, none was so apt as the Inca Manco.