“The soldiers became suspicious,” answered Michac. “When you were carried out, bound, although they did not at first know it was you, they leaped for the gate and managed to close it in the face of the enemy. Then the treacherous officer was overcome, and the guard room roused in time to prevent other traitorous officers from throwing open the main gate.”
“These men——”
The prince half rose from his chair, his face dark.
“They have been attended to,” said Michac, simply, but significantly.
“And then what, Prince Huaca?” asked Mr. Hampton. “What did they do with you?”
“My life, though once attempted by an assassin,” said Prince Huaca, “was spared. Why, I know not.”
“The man I captured wasn’t an assassin, Prince Huaca,” said Bob. “At least Senor Michac so stated. But he can tell you.”
Michac nodded, and briefly related what had since been learned or suspected, that the man was one of the band to spirit Prince Huaca away.
“At any rate,” continued the prince, “I was imprisoned in Cinto’s chambers in the Temple, and considered that, perhaps, I was to be made a sacrifice to the Sun God. You know, Senor Hampton, that Michac and I and numbers of others in Cusco Hurrin are not idolators, but worship the true God as revealed in the teachings of the Spanish Fathers who came centuries ago with de Arguello. It is one of my grievances that the Inca permits himself to be dominated by this Cinto, who continues the old idolatrous religion because of the hold it gives him upon the people.
“There, to continue, I was held close prisoner under guard, although my bonds were removed. Yet the little weapon you gave me”—and he drew out the automatic—“was not taken from me. I but awaited my chance. ‘If I must die,’ I said to myself, ‘I shall attempt to take Cinto and Guascar with me and thus rid my land of their curse.’