At length the Inca made an almost imperceptible sign with his hand, and the Villac-Umu came and stood beside his chair and said to the leader of the Spaniards’ escort—
“Who is the chief among the strangers? Let him ascend to the midway of the steps that his eyes may be blessed with the sight of the glory of our Lord, and his ears with the graciousness of his words.”
All the members of the escort, even Atahuallpa’s own secretary, carried light wands across their shoulders in obedience to the rule which compelled all who came into the presence of the Inca to come bearing the semblance of a burden in token of their service to him, and the Curaca who was addressed immediately gave his to de Soto, and bade Filipillo tell him what to do with it, he himself instantly taking another from an attendant and laying it across his shoulders. But de Soto, who knew perfectly the meaning of the act of homage, refused it somewhat indignantly, and said in a loud voice to the interpreter—
“Bid him tell his master that we are gentlemen of Spain and pay homage to none save our own king, from whom we come as honourable envoys, not as slaves.”
Then, to the amazement of all of them, and before Filipillo could translate what he had said, the Inca, looking straight at de Soto, beckoned to him and said in perfect Spanish, and with scarcely a trace of foreign accent—
“There is no dishonour in the act, Señor, yet I have no wish to force our customs unwillingly upon you. Approach, therefore, in your own fashion, and show me your credentials, and tell me the message you bring from your master.”
Then de Soto left his wondering companions and mounted the first of the double flight of steps, with his left hand resting on his sword-hilt and carrying in his right the thread of gold and scarlet which the chief of their escort had given to him. He stopped on the broader step which divided the flight, and, holding this out, said in a voice still full of wonder but instinct with respect and knightly courtesy—
“This is the sign that was given to us by his Majesty the Inca, who is presently our guest at Cajamarca, to be presented to the chief men of this city, where, to our great amazement, we find one who can himself be nothing less than a prince and chief of the royal house, and, to our still greater marvel, one who speaks the Castilian speech as purely as the most gently-bred hidalgo of Spain.”
As Manco’s glance fell upon the symbol of Atahuallpa’s authority his brows came swiftly together in a frown, but his lips curved in a scornful smile as he said, with a contemptuous wave of his hand—
“Señor, if you have no better sanction for your embassy than that you may take it back whence you had it. There is no other majesty in this land than that of my Lord and brother Huascar, in whose place of rule I sit to-day, holding it for him till our Father the Sun shall restore him to us, or—as a grievous rumour has already told us—call him back into his own presence. He from whom you had that is no Inca or lawful ruler. He is a traitor to our laws, a dishonourer of the memory of his great father and mine, and an oppressor and slayer of his people.