Now Larico who, notwithstanding his stern face and proud manner, was a coward at heart, fell upon his knees before me trembling and prayed me to spare his life which lay in my hand.  Well he knew that if once it came to Kari’s ears, even a high priest of the Sun could not hope to escape the reward of such treachery as his.

“If I pardon you, what will you give me?” I asked.

“The only thing that you will take, Lord—­the lady Quilla herself.  Hearken, Lord.  Outside the city is the palace of Upanqui whom Urco slew.  There in the great hall the divine Inca sits embalmed and into that holy presence none dare enter save the Virgins of the Sun whose office it is to wait upon the mighty dead.  To-morrow one hour before the dawn, when all men sleep, I will lead you to this hall disguised in the robes of a priest of the Sun, so that on the way thither none can know you.  There you will find but one Virgin of the Sun, the lady whom you seek.  Take her and begone.  The rest I leave to you.”

“How do I know that you will not set some trap for me, Larico?”

“Thus, Lord, that I shall be with you and share your sacrilege.  Also my life will be in your hand.”

“Aye, Larico,” I answered grimly, “and if aught of ill befalls me, remember that this,” and I touched the knotted cords, “will find its way to Kari, and with it the man who was your messenger.”

He nodded and answered: 

“Be sure that I have but one desire, to know you, Lord, and this woman whom, being mad, you seek so madly, far from Cuzco and never to look upon your face again.”

Then we made our plans as to when and where we should meet and other matters, after which he departed, bowing himself away with many smiles.

I thought to myself that there went as big a rogue as I had ever known, in London or elsewhere, and fell to wondering what snare he would set for me, since that he planned some snare I was sure.  Why, then, did I prepare to fall into it?  I asked myself.  The answer was, for a double reason.  First, although my whole heart was sick with longing for the sight of her, now, after months of seeking, I was no nearer to Quilla than when we had parted in the city of the Chancas, nor ever should be without Larico’s aid.  Secondly, some voice within me told me to go forward taking all hazards, since if I did not, our parting would be for always in this world.  Yes, the voice warned me that unless I saved her soon, Quilla would be no more.  As Huaracha had said, there was more poison in Cuzco, and murderers were not far to seek.  Or despair might do its work with her.  Or she might kill herself as once she had proposed to do.  So I would go forward even though the path I walked should lead me to my doom.