Filipillo bowed his head with his accustomed mock reverence; but before he could answer Pizarro beckoned to him and said somewhat sharply—
“What is it that he hath been saying to thee, boy? Out with it, and speak straightly if thou hast any love for thy back.”
The interpreter was but an unarmed lad amongst armed men; but he knew his power too well to be frightened at the threat, so he smiled and answered in his best Spanish—
“The Inca has just asked me, most mighty Captain, if it could become agreeable to your pleasure to release him on payment of a ransom, and if that be so he pledges his royal word that he will fill this room which you now honour by your presence with gold up to the level of the line he has just touched. In this land gold is of no value, and he promises, further, that, if after he is restored to his throne, you will lend the aid of your valour and your strange and terrible weapons to his service in the conquest of the peoples of the South, he will give to every man as much more as he can carry away with him.”
“Cuerpo de Cristo!” howled Carvahal before Pizarro could reply. “Mira! Mira! Caballeros! a room like this three-parts full of gold. A king’s ransom! By the sword of Santiago it would be more than the price of an empire! Surely the heathen hound must be lying, for never was such a thing as that seen in the world before!”
“Hold thy peace, fool—hold thy peace!” said Pedro de Candia, who sat beside him, dragging him down by the belt. “Canst thou not see the Captain is about to speak?”
He spoke in a voice that had a touch of awe in it, and indeed something of the same spell seemed to have fallen upon all present. Even the steadfast soul of Pizarro himself seemed shaken by the tremendous tidings which had so suddenly come to them. For some moments they sat round the table in silence, staring at each other and at the man who had spoken of giving away a treasure vast beyond even their wildest dreams as lightly as they would have spoken of throwing dice for a few pesos.
Then they stared round the great chamber and tried to picture it filled with gold up to the white line, and to attain to some calculation, however vague, of its value. All the treasury of Spain did not hold so much, and yet to them it would be but the price of a few hours’ slaughter of victims who were as helpless as sheep or little children under their weapons.
Soon too came the thought: Could it be believed? Was such a glorious golden dream possible of fulfilment on earth? Well, at least the Inca had said it, and they knew that they held him fast enough to make him pay with his body should he fail to pay with his gold. Then the thread of their thoughts was broken by the voice of the Captain. His emotion had already passed, or at least been overcome, and he spoke with all his wonted calmness.
“Tell the Inca,” he said to Filipillo, “that, greatly as his words have astonished us, we are well pleased to hear them. Let the ransom be paid, and we pledge our master’s honour and our own faith as good Christians and soldiers of Spain that he shall be restored to full freedom and all his dignities as the brother and ally of our lord the Emperor. Moreover, for a fair price that shall be agreed upon between us, not only myself and those with me here but others of our fellow-soldiers, who are even now coming across the mountains, shall teach his armies our own way of warfare, and fight beside his regiments until all the land is his from north to south and sea to sea. Have I spoken well, Caballeros?”