"Well, what now?" demanded Pedro, pausing.
"The Ñusta Rava," said Cristoval.
"Thou must leave her to me."
"She goeth with me, Pedro. I have sworn to the Inca—"
"Oh, Murder of the Innocents! Man, 't is impossible! Thy life may pay for it. Save thy neck if thou canst. It is thy one chance. Thy trial is for the morrow. Encumbered with her—"
"She goeth with me, Pedro, or I go not at all."
Pedro swore vigorously, but Cristoval was obdurate. They wrangled hotly in fierce undertone. Pedro yielded.
"Be it as thou sayst, Cristoval. Holy Mother! Why must a good man sometimes be a fool? Well, stew me, thou 'rt not the first to be undone by a petticoat, nor wilt be the last. As thou sayst. Tilt thy head back."
"Good Pedro, I have given my sacred word. Should I break it, and she come to harm,—it were dastardly, my friend, as thou knowest. By to-morrow I can have her in the hands of her people."
Pedro clipped rapidly. "Well, I pray Heaven the effort may not cost too dear. But—damn my kettles, Cristoval!—thou'rt a man in a million. Now, I'll tell thee how to find her. Thou knowest the little gate in the wall just back of the left wing of the palace. Thou'lt find it unfastened. Go in when the sentinel is not too near. Thou canst find the women's court? Enter it and knock at the third door on the right. Her maids sleep there. They will know thee. Ask for Nuyalla. She will lead thee to the Princess, who will go with thee, I doubt not, for she knoweth now the fate in store for her. Heaven be with thee, Cristoval! Now thou'rt done."