“Once there was not, but now there is.”

I breathed again; she surely could not mean me.

“There is now—­there has been some time,” she continued, after a short pause.  “Know you who he is?”

I said that I had not the slightest idea.

“Yourself, senor; you are the man.”

“Impossible, Mamcuna!  I am of very inferior rank, indeed—­a common soldier, a mere nobody.”

“You are too modest, senor; you do yourself an injustice.  A man with so white a skin, a beard so long, and eyes so beautiful must be of royal lineage, and fit to mate even with the daughter of the Incas.”

“You are quite mistaken, Mamcuna; I am utterly unworthy of so great an honor.”

“You are not, I tell you.  Please don’t contradict me, senor” (she always called me ’senor’); “it makes me angry.  You are the man whom I delight to honor and desire to wed; what would you have more?”

“Nothing—­I would not have so much.  You are too good; but it would be wrong.  I really cannot let you throw yourself away on a nameless foreigner.  Besides what would your caciques say?”

“If any man dare say a word against you I will have his tongue torn out by the roots.”

“But suppose I am married already—­that I have left a wife in my own country?” I urged in desperation.

“That would not matter in the least.  She is not likely to come hither, and I will take care that I am your only wife in this country.”

“Your condescension quite overwhelms me.  But all this is so sudden; you must really give me a little time—­”

“A little time! why?  You perhaps think I am not sincere, that I do not mean what I say, that I may change my mind.  Have no fear on that score.  There shall be no delay.  The preparations for our wedding shall be begun at once, and ten days hence, dear senor, you will be my husband.”

What could I say?  I had, of course, no intention of marrying her—­I would as lief have married a leopardess.  But had I given her a peremptory negative she might have had me laid by the heels without more ado, or worse.  So I bowed my head and held my tongue, resolving at the same time that, before the expiration of the ten days’ respite, I would get out of the country or perish in the attempt.  Whereupon Mamcuna, taking my silence for consent, showed great delight, patted me on the back, caressed my beard, fondled my hands, and called me her lord.  Fortunately, kissing was not an institution in Pachatupec.

One good result of our betrothal, if I may so call it, was that the preparations for the wedding took up so much of Mamcuna’s time that she had none left for me, and I had leisure and opportunity to contrive a plan of escape, if I could, for, as I quickly discovered, the difficulties in the way were almost if not altogether insurmountable.  I could neither go back to the eastern Cordillera by the road I had come, nor, without guides, find any other pass, either farther north or farther south.  Westward was a range of barren hills bounded by a sandy desert, destitute of life or the means of supporting life, and stretching to the desolate Pacific coast, whence, even if I could reach it, I should have no means of getting away.