“True faith! What is that?” the Inca broke in sharply, and once more frowning. “If by that you mean a new faith and the worship of strange gods, such as I have heard of from men of your race who have dwelt with us, say no more of it. The faith of my fathers is enough for my people; and, moreover, how should I, who bear the name of the Divine founder of our race, and who am of his blood, make way for another god in my own land? It seems that it is you, Señor, who need teaching something of true faith and courtesy as well.”
De Soto saw instantly that he had made a false step, and at once hastened to repair the mistake.
“I crave your Majesty’s forgiveness,” he said, with greater deference than ever. “It was foolish of me to speak of matters that are beyond the comprehension of a plain soldier. I pray you think no more of it. I doubt not that when you come to have speech with Don Francisco on the matter there will be no great disagreement found between you. And now, your Majesty, so much being said, this part of my mission is performed.”
The Inca sat with his elbow on the arm of the chair and his chin in the palm of his hand staring at de Soto for some moments after he had done speaking. Then he said slowly—
“These are weighty matters, and not to be lightly disposed of. You, Señor, have done your part well, and I hope with honour and truthfulness. You and your companions shall be my guests during your stay in the city. I must talk with my wise men and trusted counsellors over these things, and you shall have my answer to take back to your leader as soon as may be. Till then my palace over yonder, which you have just come from, shall be your home. When I have more to say to you I will send for you, but when you come again do not bring that sore-eyed slave with you. I have heard of him. He is a Yunca, and a slave, and a maker of mischief, and you see that I can talk with you without his help. Tell him that if I see his face again I will have him killed, for the sight of him is not good for my eyes. Now adios, Señor, till we meet again.”
De Soto received his courteous dismissal with a ceremonious bow, saying—
“I thank your Majesty for your gracious words and generous hospitality. So far as our duty to our master may permit, we are your servants so long as we shall remain in your realms. Adios!”
And so saying, in true courtier style he saluted the Inca, bowed low before Nahua, whom he naturally believed to be already his consort, and, without turning his back, descended the steps and rejoined his still wondering companions.
CHAPTER VIII.
SENTENCE OF DEATH
In Cajamarca the days grew rapidly into weeks, and events multiplied quickly, but the cavaliers did not return from Cuzco, nor was any more news heard of them than the meagre tidings of their arrival and reception which had been brought by Filipillo, who, in accordance with Manco’s wish, had been sent back at once with the escort. This had, unhappily, given the interpreter still further means of mischief-making, for he had brought back to Pizarro a cunningly-concocted story of a plot, which he had himself hatched, between Manco and Atahuallpa, and this had at length forced the Captain-General into a course which he had long been contemplating, and to which he was now strongly urged by his old comrade Almagro, who had arrived from the coast with some hundred and fifty men. This was to bring the Inca to trial for the murder of Huascar and for plotting the overthrow of the Spanish authority.