“And my son, Huascar?”
“Your son is in no danger. Huascar watches over him.”
“You say you watch over them! But to-morrow I may have neither son nor daughter.”
“Neither son nor daughter will you have if you do not obey Huascar.” The man’s tone had become somber and menacing. “But if you obey, I swear by the head of Atahualpa, who awaits your daughter should I betray her, I swear by my eternal soul, that the señorita will be saved!”
“What must we do?”
“Nothing. You must abstain from all action. Do not pursue the Red Ponchos and put them on their guard. I will do everything if you and yours promise not to come near that house again. They know you, and when you appear, the mammaconas form the black chain round the Bride of the Sun. If a stranger appeared, they would offer her up to Atahualpa dead, rather than see her escape. Be warned, and do not leave this inn. If you promise me that, I swear that I will bring your son here, unharmed, at midnight. For your daughter, you must wait.”
Don Christobal took down a little crucifix from a nail over the bed, and came toward Huascar.
“The señora brought you up in our holy faith,” he said. “Swear upon this that you will do as you say.”
Huascar held out his hand and took the oath.
“I have sworn,” he said proudly, “but for me, your word is enough.”