Soncco was in despair. An expression of helplessness spread over his face.
“The person of the Inca always has been considered holy, and it cannot be violated now,” he wailed. “I ought not to listen to your words, for they are blasphemy. I should not have come here at all. And I should not have stayed on and on after I got here, were it not for one fact——”
“That you know I am speaking the truth,” Stanley interrupted. “The truth is painful as often as not, but it is best to listen while there is time. If you delay you will be lost.”
Soncco was showing signs of weakening.
“The people are grumbling,” he admitted reluctantly. “If the oppression and tyranny continue, there will be an uprising—the first in the history of the nation. We have suffered misfortune enough already without having a new calamity thrust upon us.”
“Now you are talking sensibly. We are offering you the opportunity to prevent all this trouble and bloodshed you justly despise. Will you take advantage of it? Will you trust us and let us help you?”
“How can I accomplish the impossible? What can I do? I am old and my power has been taken from me. Indeed, I am now no more than an executioner, hated by all men.”
“You can do more than you think possible. Are you acquainted with the country beyond the wall—I mean Uti?”
“Uti, yes. Only sixteen changes of the moon ago I accompanied an exploring party there much against my will. It is a terrible place with death staring one in the face at every step.”
“Then you know the caves in the mountain-sides?”