H. R.  Haggard The Virgin Of The Sun 
 
 
 THE VIRGIN OF THE SUN 
   
   
   
   
 INTRODUCTORY 
   
 There are some who find great interest, and even consolation, amid the 
 worries and anxieties of life in the collection of relics of the past, 
 drift or long-sunk treasures that the sea of time has washed up upon our 
 modern shore. 
   
 The great collectors are not of this class. Having large sums at their 
 disposal, these acquire any rarity that comes upon the market and add 
 it to their store which in due course, perhaps immediately upon their 
 deaths, also will be put upon the market and pass to the possession of 
 other connoisseurs. Nor are the dealers who buy to sell again and thus 
 grow wealthy. Nor are the agents of museums in many lands, who purchase 
 for the national benefit things that are gathered together in certain 
 great public buildings which perhaps, some day, though the thought 
 makes one shiver, will be looted or given to the flames by enemies or by 
 furious, thieving mobs. 
   
 Those that this Editor has in mind, from one of whom indeed he obtained 
 the history printed in these pages, belong to a quite different 
 category, men of small means often, who collect old things, for the most 
 part at out-of-the-way sales or privately, because they love them, and 
 sometimes sell them again because they must. Frequently these old things 
 appeal, not because of any intrinsic value that they may have, not 
 even for their beauty, for they may be quite unattractive even to the 
 cultivated eye, but rather for their associations. Such folk love to 
 reflect upon and to speculate about the long-dead individuals who have 
 owned the relics, who have supped their soup from the worn Elizabethan 
 spoon, who have sat at the rickety oak table found in a kitchen or an 
 out-house, or upon the broken, ancient chair. They love to think of the 
 little children whose skilful, tired hands wrought the faded sampler and 
 whose bright eyes smarted over its innumerable stitches. 
   
 Who, for instance, was the May Shore ("Fairy" broidered in a bracket 
 underneath, was her pet name), who finished yonder elaborate example on 
 her tenth birthday, the 1st of May--doubtless that is where she got 
 her name--in the year 1702, and on what far shore does she keep her 
 birthdays now? None will ever know. She has vanished into the great 
 sea of mystery whence she came, and there she lives and has her being, 
 forgotten upon earth, or sleeps and sleeps and sleeps. Did she die young 
 or old, married or single? Did she ever set _her_ children to work other 
 samplers, or had she none? was she happy or unhappy, was she homely or 
 beautiful? Was she a sinner or a saint? Again none will ever know. She 
 was born on the 1st of May, 1692, and certainly she died on some date 
 unrecorded. So far as human knowledge goes that is all her history, just 
 as much or as little as will be left of most of us who breathe to-day 
 when this earth has completed two hundred and eighteen more revolutions 
 round the sun. 
   
 But the kind of collector alluded to can best be exemplified in the 
 individual instance of him from whom the manuscript was obtained, of 
 which a somewhat modernized version is printed on these pages. He has 
 been dead some years, leaving no kin; and under his will, such of his 
 motley treasures as it cared to accept went to a local museum, while 
 the rest and his other property were sold for the benefit of a mystical 
 brotherhood, for the old fellow was a kind of spiritualist. Therefore, 
 there is no harm in giving his plebeian name, which was Potts. Mr. 
 Potts had a small draper's shop in an undistinguished and rarely visited 
 country town in the east of England, which shop he ran with the help 
 of an assistant almost as old and peculiar as himself. Whether he made 
 anything out of it or whether he lived upon private means is now unknown 
 and does not matter. Anyway, when there was something of antiquarian 
 interest or value to be bought, generally he had the money to pay for 
 it, though at times, in order to do so, he was forced to sell something 
 else. Indeed these were the only occasions when it was possible to 
 purchase anything, indifferent hosiery excepted, from Mr. Potts. 
   
 Now, I, the Editor, who also love old things, and to whom therefore Mr. 
 Potts was a sympathetic soul, was aware of this fact and entered into 
 an arrangement with the peculiar assistant to whom I have alluded, to 
 advise me of such crises which arose whenever the local bank called Mr. 
 Potts's attention to the state of his account. Thus it came about that 
 one day I received the following letter:-- 
   
 Sir, 
   
 The Guv'nor has gone a bust upon some cracked china, the ugliest that 
 ever I saw though no judge. So if you want to get that old tall clock at 
 the first price or any other of his rubbish, I think now is your chance. 
 Anyhow, keep this dark as per agreement. 
   
 Your obedient, Tom. 
   
 (He always signed himself Tom, I suppose to mystify, although I believe 
 his real name was Betterly.) 
   
 The result of this epistle was a long and disagreeable bicycle ride in 
 wet autumn weather, and a visit to the shop of Mr. Potts. Tom, alias 
 Betterly, who was trying to sell some mysterious undergarments to a fat 
 old woman, caught sight of me, the Editor aforesaid, and winked. In a 
 shadowed corner of the shop sat Mr. Potts himself upon a high stool, a 
 wizened little old man with a bent back, a bald head, and a hooked 
 nose upon which were set a pair of enormous horn-rimmed spectacles that 
 accentuated his general resemblance to an owl perched upon the edge of 
 its nest-hole. He was busily engaged in doing nothing, and in staring 
 into nothingness as, according to Tom, was his habit when communing with 
 what he, Tom, called his "dratted speerits." 
   
 "Customer!" said Tom in a harsh voice. "Sorry to disturb you at your 
 prayers, Guv'nor, but not having two pair of hands I can't serve a 
 crowd," meaning the old woman of the undergarments and myself. 
   
 Mr. Potts slid off his stool and prepared for action. When he saw, 
 however, who the customer was he bristled--that is the only word for it. 
 The truth is that although between us there was an inward and spiritual 
 sympathy, there was also an outward and visible hostility. Twice I 
 had outbid Mr. Potts at a local auction for articles which he desired. 
 Moreover, after the fashion of every good collector he felt it to be 
 his duty to hate me as another collector. Lastly, several times I 
 had offered him smaller sums for antiques upon which he set a certain 
 monetary value. It is true that long ago I had given up this bargaining 
 for the reason that Mr. Potts would never take less than he asked. 
 Indeed he followed the example of the vendor of the Sibylline books in 
 ancient Rome. He did not destroy the goods indeed after the fashion 
 of that person and demand the price of all of them for the one that 
 remained, but invariably he put up his figure by 10 per cent. and 
 nothing would induce him to take off one farthing. 
   
 "What do _you_ want, sir?" he said grumpily. "Vests, hose, collars, or 
 socks?" 
   
 "Oh, socks, I think," I replied at hazard, thinking that they would 
 be easiest to carry, whereupon Mr. Potts produced some peculiarly 
 objectionable and shapeless woollen articles which he almost threw at 
 me, saying that they were all he had in stock. Now I detest woollen 
 socks and never wear them. Still, I made a purchase, thinking with 
 sympathy of my old gardener whose feet they would soon be scratching, 
 and while the parcel was being tied up, said in an insinuating voice, 
 "Anything fresh upstairs, Mr. Potts?" 
   
 "No, sir," he answered shortly, "at least, not much, and if there were 
 what's the use of showing them to you after the business about that 
 clock?" 
   
 "It was £15 you wanted for it, Mr. Potts?" I asked. 
   
 "No, sir, it was £17 and now it's 10 per cent. on to that; you can work 
 out the sum for yourself." 
   
 "Well, let's have another look at it, Mr. Potts," I replied humbly, 
 whereon with a grunt and a muttered injunction to Tom to mind the shop, 
 he led the way upstairs. 
   
 Now the house in which Mr. Potts dwelt had once been of considerable 
 pretensions and was very, very old, Elizabethan, I should think, 
 although it had been refronted with a horrible stucco to suit modern 
 tastes. The oak staircase was good though narrow, and led to numerous 
 small rooms upon two floors above, some of which rooms were panelled 
 and had oak beams, now whitewashed like the panelling--at least they had 
 once been whitewashed, probably in the last generation. 
   
 These rooms were literally crammed with every sort of old furniture, 
 most of it decrepit, though for many of the articles dealers would have 
 given a good price. But at dealers Mr. Potts drew the line; not one of 
 them had ever set a foot upon that oaken stair. To the attics the place 
 was filled with this furniture and other articles such as books, china, 
 samplers with the glass broken, and I know not what besides, piled in 
 heaps upon the floor. Indeed where Mr. Potts slept was a mystery; either 
 it must have been under the counter in his shop, or perhaps at nights he 
 inhabited a worm-eaten Jacobean bedstead which stood in an attic, for 
 I observed a kind of pathway to it running through a number of legless 
 chairs, also some dirty blankets between the moth-riddled curtains. 
   
 Not far from this bedstead, propped in an intoxicated way against the 
 sloping wall of the old house, stood the clock which I desired. It was 
 one of the first "regulator" clocks with a wooden pendulum, used by the 
 maker himself to check the time-keeping of all his other clocks, and 
 enclosed in a chaste and perfect mahogany case of the very best style of 
 its period. So beautiful was it, indeed, that it had been an instance of 
 "love at first sight" between us, and although there was an estrangement 
 on the matter of settlements, or in other words over the question of 
 price, now I felt that never more could that clock and I be parted. 
   
 So I agreed to give old Potts the £20 or, to be accurate, £18 14s. which 
 he asked on the 10 per cent. rise principle, thankful in my heart that 
 he had not made it more, and prepared to go. As I turned, however, my 
 eye fell upon a large chest of the almost indestructible yellow cypress 
 wood of which were made, it is said, the doors of St. Peter's at Rome 
 that stood for eight hundred years and, for aught I know, are still 
 standing, as good as on the day when they were put up. 
   
 "Marriage coffer," said Potts, answering my unspoken question. 
   
 "Italian, about 1600?" I suggested. 
   
 "May be so, or perhaps Dutch made by Italian artists; but older than 
 that, for somebody has burnt 1597 on the lid with a hot iron. Not for 
 sale, not for sale at all, much too good to sell. Just you look inside 
 it, the old key is tied to the spring lock. Never saw such poker-work in 
 my life. Gods and goddesses and I don't know what; and Venus sitting 
 in the middle in a wreath of flowers with nothing on, and holding two 
 hearts in her hands, which shows that it was a marriage chest. Once it 
 was full of some bride's outfit, sheets and linen and clothes, and God 
 knows what. I wonder where she has got to to-day. Some place where the 
 moth don't eat clothes, I hope. Bought it at the break-up of an 
 ancient family who fled to Norfolk on the revocation of the Edict of 
 Nantes--Huguenot, of course. Years ago, years ago! Haven't looked into 
 it for many years, indeed, but think there's nothing there but rubbish 
 now." 
   
 Thus he mumbled on while he found and untied the old key. The spring 
 lock had grown stiff from disuse and want of oil, but at length it 
 turned and reopened the chest revealing the poker-work glories on the 
 inner side of the lid and elsewhere. Glories they were indeed, never had 
 I seen such artistry of the sort. 
   
 "Can't see it properly," muttered Potts, "windows want washing, haven't 
 been done since my wife died, and that's twenty years ago. Miss her 
 very much, of course, but thank God there's no spring-cleaning now. The 
 things I've seen broken in spring-cleaning! yes, and lost, too. It was 
 after one of them that I told my wife that now I understood why the 
 Mahomedans declare that women have no souls. When she came to understand 
 what I meant, which it took her a long time to do, we had a row, a 
 regular row, and she threw a Dresden figure at my head. Luckily I caught 
 it, having been a cricketer when young. Well, she's gone now, and no 
 doubt heaven's a tidier place than it used to be--that is, if they will 
 stand her rummagings there, which I doubt. Look at that Venus, ain't she 
 a beauty? Might have been done by Titian when his paints ran out, and 
 he had to take to a hot iron to express his art. What, you can't see 
 her well? Wait a bit and I'll get a lantern. Can't have a naked candle 
 here--things too valuable; no money could buy them again. My wife and 
 I had another row about naked candles, or it may have been a paraffin 
 lamp. You sit in that old prayer-stool and look at the work." 
   
 Off he went crawling down the dusky stairs and leaving me wondering 
 what Mrs. Potts, of whom now I heard for the first time, could have been 
 like. An aggravating woman, I felt sure, for upon whatever points men 
 differ, as to "spring-cleaning" they are all of one mind. No doubt he 
 was better without her, for what did that dried-up old artist want with 
 a wife? 
   
 Dismissing Mrs. Potts from my mind, which, to tell the truth, seemed 
 to have no room for her shadowy and hypothetical entity, I fell to 
 examining the chest. Oh! it was lovely. In two minutes the clock was 
 deposed and that chest became the sultana in my seraglio of beauteous 
 things. The clock had only been the light love of an hour. Here was 
 the eternal queen, that is, unless there existed a still better chest 
 somewhere else, and I should happen to find it. Meanwhile, whatever 
 price that old slave-dealer Potts wanted for it, must be paid to him 
 even if I had to overdraw my somewhat slender account. Seraglios, of 
 whatever sort, it must be remembered, are expensive luxuries of the rich 
 indeed, though, if of antiques, they can be sold again, which cannot be 
 said of the human kind for who wants to buy a lot of antique frumps? 
   
 There were plenty of things in the chest, such as some odds and ends of 
 tapestry and old clothes of a Queen Anne character, put here, no doubt, 
 for preservation, as moth does not like this cypress wood. Also there 
 were some books and a mysterious bundle tied up in a curious shawl with 
 stripes of colour running through it. That bundle excited me, and I drew 
 the fringes of the shawl apart and looked in. So far as I could see it 
 contained another dress of rich colours, also a thick packet of what 
 looked like parchment, badly prepared and much rotted upon one side 
 as though by damp, which parchment appeared to be covered with faint 
 black-letter writing, done by some careless scribe with poor ink that 
 had faded very much. There were other things, too, within the shawl, 
 such as a box made of some red foreign wood, but I had not time to 
 investigate further for just then I heard old Potts's foot upon the 
 stair, and thought it best to replace the bundle. He arrived with the 
 lantern and by its light we examined the chest and the poker work. 
   
 "Very nice," I said, "very nice, though a good deal knocked about." 
   
 "Yes, sir," he replied with sarcasm, "I suppose you'd like to see it 
 neat and new after four hundred years of wear, and if so, I think I can 
 tell you where you can get one to your liking. I made the designs for 
 it myself five years ago for a fellow who wanted to learn how to 
 manufacture antiques. He's in quod now and his antiques are for sale 
 cheap. I helped to put him there to get him out of the way as a danger 
 to Society." 
   
 "What's the price?" I asked with airy detachment. 
   
 "Haven't I told you it ain't for sale. Wait till I'm dead and come and 
 buy it at my auction. No, you won't, though, for it's going somewhere 
 else." 
   
 I made no answer but continued my examination while Potts took his 
 seat on the prayer-stool and seemed to go off into one of his fits of 
 abstraction. 
   
 "Well," I said at length when decency told me that I could remain no 
 longer, "if you won't sell it's no use my looking. No doubt you want to 
 keep it for a richer man, and of course you are quite right. Will you 
 arrange with the carrier about sending the clock, Mr. Potts, and I will 
 let you have a cheque. Now I must be off, as I've ten miles to ride and 
 it will be dark in an hour." 
   
 "Stop where you are," said Potts in a hollow voice. "What's a ride in 
 the dark compared with a matter like this, even if you haven't a lamp 
 and get hauled before your own bench? Stop where you are, I'm listening 
 to something." 
   
 So I stopped and began to fill my pipe. 
   
 "Put that pipe away," said Potts, coming out of his reverie, "pipes mean 
 matches; no matches here." 
   
 I obeyed, and he went on thinking till at last what between the chest 
 and the worm-eaten Jacobean bed and old Potts on the prayer-stool, I 
 began to feel as if I were being mesmerized. At length he rose and said 
 in the same hollow voice: 
   
 "Young man, you may have that chest, and the price is £50. Now for 
 heaven's sake don't offer me £40, or it will be £100 before you leave 
 this room." 
   
 "With the contents?" I said casually. 
   
 "Yes, with the contents. It's the contents I'm told you are to have." 
   
 "Look here, Potts," I said, exasperated, "what the devil do you mean? 
 There's no one in this room except you and me, so who can have told you 
 anything unless it was old Tom downstairs." 
   
 "Tom," he said with unutterable sarcasm, "Tom! Perhaps you mean the 
 mawkin that was put up to scare birds from the peas in the garden, for 
 it has more in its head than Tom. No one here? Oh! what fools some men 
 are. Why, the place is thick with them." 
   
 "Thick with whom?" 
   
 "Who? why, ghosts, of course, as you would call them in your ignorance. 
 Spirits of the dead I name them. Beautiful enough, too, some of them. 
 Look at that one there," and he lifted the lantern and pointed to a pile 
 of old bed posts of Chippendale design. 
   
 "Good day, Potts," I said hastily. 
   
 "Stop where you are," repeated Potts. "You don't believe me yet, but 
 when you are as old as I am you will remember my words and believe--more 
 than I do and see--clearer than I do, because it's in your soul, yes, 
 the seed is in your soul, though as yet it is choked by the world, the 
 flesh, and the devil. Wait till your sins have brought you trouble; wait 
 till the fires of trouble have burned the flesh away; wait till you have 
 sought Light and found Light and live in Light, then you will believe; 
 _then_ you will see." 
   
 All this he said very solemnly, and standing there in that dusky room 
 surrounded by the wreck of things that once had been dear to dead men 
 and women, waving the lantern in his hand and staring--at what was he 
 staring?--really old Potts looked most impressive. His twisted shape and 
 ugly countenance became spiritual; he was one who had "found Light and 
 lived in Light." 
   
 "You won't believe me," he went on, "but I pass on to you what a woman 
 has been telling me. She's a queer sort of woman; I never saw her 
 like before, a foreigner and dark-hued with strange rich garments and 
 something on her head. There, that, _that_," and he pointed through the 
 dirty window-place to the crescent of a young moon which appeared in 
 the sky. "A fine figure of a woman," he went on, "and oh! heaven, what 
 eyes--I never saw such eyes before. Big and tender, something like those 
 of the deer in the park yonder. Proud, too, she is, one who has ruled, 
 and a lady, though foreign. Well, I never fell in love before, but I 
 feel like it now, and so would you, young man, if you could see her, and 
 so I think did someone else in his day." 
   
 "What did she say to you?" I asked, for by now I was interested enough. 
 Who wouldn't be when old Potts took to describing beautiful women? 
   
 "It's a little difficult to tell you for she spoke in a strange tongue, 
 and I had to translate it in my head, as it were. But this is the gist 
 of it. That you were to have that chest and what was in it. There's a 
 writing there, she says, or part of a writing for some has gone--rotted 
 away. You are to read that writing or to get it read and to print it so 
 that the world may read it also. She said that 'Hubert' wishes you to 
 do so. I am sure the name was Hubert, though she also spoke of him with 
 some other title which I do not understand. That's all I can remember, 
 except something about a city, yes, a City of Gold and a last great 
 battle in which Hubert fell, covered with glory and conquering. I 
 understood that she wanted to talk about that because it isn't in the 
 writing, but you interrupted and of course she's gone. Yes, the price is 
 £50 and not a farthing less, but you can pay it when you like for I know 
 you're as honest as most, and whether you pay it or not, you must have 
 that chest and what's in it and no one else." 
   
 "All right," I said, "but don't trust it to the carrier. I'll send a 
 cart for it to-morrow morning. Lock it now and give me the key." 
   
   
   
 In due course the chest arrived, and I examined the bundle for the other 
 contents do not matter, although some of them were interesting. Pinned 
 inside the shawl I found a paper, undated and unsigned, but which from 
 the character and style of the writing was, I should say, penned by a 
 lady about sixty years ago. It ran thus:-- 
   
 "My late father, who was such a great traveller in his young days and so 
 fond of exploring strange places, brought these things home from one of 
 his journeys before his marriage, I think from South America. He told 
 me once that the dress was found upon the body of a woman in a tomb and 
 that she must have been a great lady, for she was surrounded by a number 
 of other women, perhaps her servants who were brought to be buried with 
 her here when they died. They were all seated about a stone table at the 
 end of which were the remains of a man. My father saw the bodies near 
 the ruins of some forest city, in the tomb over which was heaped a great 
 mound of earth. That of the lady, which had a kind of shroud made of the 
 skins of long-wooled sheep wrapped about it as though to preserve the 
 dress beneath, had been embalmed in some way, which the natives of the 
 place, wherever it was, told him showed that she was royal. The others 
 were mere skeletons, held together by the skin, but the man had a long 
 fair beard and hair still hanging to his skull, and by his side was a 
 great cross-hilted sword that crumbled to fragments when it was touched, 
 except the hilt and the knob of amber upon it which had turned almost 
 black with age. I think my father said that the packet of skins or 
 parchment of which the underside is badly rotted with damp was set under 
 the feet of the man. He told me that he gave those who found the tomb a 
 great deal of money for the dress, gold ornaments, and emerald necklace, 
 as nothing so perfect had been found before, and the cloth is all worked 
 with gold thread. My father told me, too, that he did not wish the 
 things to be sold." 
   
 This was the end of the writing. 
   
 Having read it I examined the dress. It was of a sort that I had never 
 seen before, though experts to whom I have shown it say that it is 
 certainly South American of a very early date, and like the ornaments, 
 probably pre-Inca Peruvian. It is full of rich colours such as I have 
 seen in old Indian shawls which give a general effect of crimson. This 
 crimson robe clearly was worn over a skirt of linen that had a purple 
 border. In the box that I have spoken of were the ornaments, all of 
 plain dull gold: a waist-band; a circlet of gold for the head from which 
 rose the crescent of the young moon and a necklace of emeralds, uncut 
 stones now much flawed, for what reason I do not know, but polished and 
 set rather roughly in red gold. Also there were two rings. Round one 
 of these a bit of paper was wrapped upon which was written, in another 
 hand, probably that of the father of the writer of the memorandum:-- 
   
 "Taken from the first finger of the right hand of a lady's mummy which I 
 am sorry, in our circumstances, it was quite impossible to carry away." 
   
 This ring is a broad band of gold with a flat bezel upon which something 
 was once engraved that owing to long and hard wear now cannot be 
 distinguished. In short, it appears to be a signet of old European make 
 but of what age and from what country it is impossible to determine. 
 The other ring was in a small leathery pouch, elaborately embroidered 
 in gold thread or very thin wire, which I suppose was part of the lady's 
 costume. It is like a very massive wedding ring, but six or eight times 
 as thick, and engraved all over with an embossed conventional design of 
 what look like stars with rays round them, or possibly petalled flowers. 
 Lastly there was the sword-hilt, of which presently. 
   
 Such were the trinkets, if so they may be called. They are of little 
 value intrinsically except for their weight in gold, because, as I have 
 said, the emeralds are flawed as though they have been through a fire or 
 some other unknown cause. Moreover, there is about them nothing of the 
 grace and charm of ancient Egyptian jewellery; evidently they belonged 
 to a ruder age and civilization. Yet they had, and still have, to my 
 imagining, a certain dignity of their own. 
   
 Also--here I became infected with the spirit of the peculiar 
 Potts--without doubt these things were rich in human associations. Who 
 had worn that dress of crimson with the crosses worked on it in gold 
 wire (they cannot have been Christian crosses), and the purple-bordered 
 skirt underneath, and the emerald necklace and the golden circlet from 
 which rose the crescent of the young moon? Apparently a mummy in a tomb, 
 the mummy of some long-dead lady of a strange and alien race. Was she 
 such a one as that old lunatic Potts had dreamed he saw standing before 
 him in the filthy, cumbered upper-chamber of a ruinous house in an 
 England market town, I wondered, one with great eyes like to those of a 
 doe and a regal bearing? 
   
 No, that was nonsense. Potts had lived with shadows until he believed in 
 shadows that came out of his own imagination and into it returned again. 
 Still, she was a woman of some sort, and apparently she had a lover or 
 a husband, a man with a great fair beard. How at this date, which must 
 have been remote, did a golden-bearded man come to foregather with a 
 woman who wore such robes and ornaments as these? And that sword hilt, 
 worn smooth by handling and with an amber knob? Whence came it? To my 
 mind--this was before expert examination confirmed my view--it looked 
 very Norse. I had read the Sagas and I remembered a tale recovered in 
 them of some bold Norsemen who about the years eight or nine hundred 
 had wandered to the coast of what is known now to be America--I think a 
 certain Eric was their captain. Could the fair-haired man in the grave 
 have been one of these? 
   
 Thus I speculated before I looked at the pile of parchments so evidently 
 prepared from sheep skins by one who had only a very rudimentary 
 knowledge of how to work such stuff, not knowing that in those 
 parchments was hid the answer to many of my questions. To these I turned 
 last of all, for we all shrink from parchments; their contents are 
 generally so dull. There was a great bundle of them that had been lashed 
 together with a kind of straw rope, fine straw that reminded me of that 
 used to make Panama hats. But this had rotted underneath together with 
 all the bottom part of the parchments, many sheets of them, of which 
 only fragments remained, covered with dry mould and crumbling. Therefore 
 the rope was easy to remove and beneath it, holding the sheets in place, 
 was only some stout and comparatively modern string--it had a red thread 
 in it that marked it as navy cord of an old pattern. 
   
 I slipped these fastenings off and lifted a blank piece of skin set upon 
 the top. Beneath appeared the first sheet of parchment, closely, very 
 closely covered with small "black-letter" writing, so faint and faded 
 that even if I were able to read black-letter, which I cannot, of it 
 I could have made nothing at all. The thing was hopeless. Doubtless 
 in that writing lay the key to the mystery, but it could never be 
 deciphered by me or any one else. The lady with the eyes like a deer had 
 appeared to old Potts in vain; in vain had she bidden him to hand over 
 this manuscript to me. 
   
 So I thought at the time, not knowing the resources of science. 
 Afterwards, however, I took that huge bundle to a friend, a learned 
 friend whose business in life it was and is, to deal with and to 
 decipher old manuscripts. 
   
 "Looks pretty hopeless," he said, after staring at these. "Still, let's 
 have a try; one never knows till one tries." 
   
 Then he went to a cupboard in his muniment room and produced a bottle 
 full of some straw-coloured fluid into which he dipped an ordinary 
 painting brush. This charged brush he rubbed backwards and forwards over 
 the first lines of the writing and waited. Within a minute, before my 
 astonished eyes, that faint, indistinguishable script turned coal-black, 
 as black as though it had been written with the best modern ink 
 yesterday. 
   
 "It's all right," he said triumphantly, "it's vegetable ink, and this 
 stuff has the power to bring it up as it was on the day when it was 
 used. It will stay like that for a fortnight and then fade away again. 
 Your manuscript is pretty ancient, my friend, time of Richard II, I 
 should say, but I can read it easily enough. Look, it begins, 'I, Hubert 
 de Hastings, write this in the land of Tavantinsuyu, far from England 
 where I was born, whither I shall never more return, being a wanderer 
 as the rune upon the sword of my ancestor, Thorgrimmer, foretold that 
 I should be, which sword my mother gave me on the day of the burning of 
 Hastings by the French,' and so on." Here he stopped. 
   
 "Then for heaven's sake, do read it," I said. 
   
 "My dear friend," he answered, "it looks to me as though it would mean 
 several months' work, and forgive me for saying that I am paid a salary 
 for my time. Now I'll tell you what you have to do. All this stuff 
 must be treated, sheet by sheet, and when it turns black it must 
 be photographed before the writing fades once more. Then a skilled 
 person--so-and-so, or so-and-so, are two names that occur to me--must be 
 employed to decipher it again, sheet by sheet. It will cost you money, 
 but I should say that it was worth while. Where the devil is, or was, 
 the land of Tavantinsuyu?" 
   
 "I know," I answered, glad to be able to show myself superior to my 
 learned friend in one humble instance. "Tavantinsuyu was the native name 
 for the Empire of Peru before the Spanish Invasion. But how did this 
 Hubert get there in the time of Richard II? That is some centuries 
 earlier than Pizarro set foot upon its shores." 
   
 "Go and find out," he answered. "It will amuse you for quite a long 
 while and perhaps the results may meet the expenses of decipherment, if 
 they are worth publishing. I expect they are not, but then, I have read 
 so many old manuscripts and found most of them so jolly dull." 
   
 Well, that business was accomplished at a cost that I do not like to 
 record, and here are the results, more or less modernised, since often 
 Hubert of Hastings expressed himself in a queer and archaic fashion. 
 Also sometimes he used Indian words as though he had talked the tongue 
 of these Peruvians, or rather the Chanca variety of it, so long that he 
 had begun to forget his own language. Myself I have found his story very 
 romantic and interesting, and I hope that some others will be of the 
 same opinion. Let them judge. 
   
 But oh, I do wonder what was the end of it, some of which doubtless was 
 recorded on the rotted sheets though of course there can have been no 
 account of the great battle in which he fell, since Quilla could not 
 write at all, least of all in English, though I suppose she survived it 
 and him. 
   
 The only hint of that end is to be found in old Potts's dream or vision, 
 and what is the worth of dreams and visions? 
   
   
   
   
 BOOK I 
   
   
   
 CHAPTER I 
   
 THE SWORD AND THE RING 
   
 I, Hubert of Hastings, write this in the land of Tavantinsuyu, far from 
 England, where I was born, whither I shall never more return, being 
 a wanderer as the rune upon the sword of my ancestor, Thorgrimmer, 
 foretold that I should be, which sword my mother gave me on the day of 
 the burning of Hastings by the French. I write it with a pen that I have 
 shaped from a wing feather of the great eagle of the mountains, with ink 
 that I have made from the juices of certain herbs which I discovered, 
 and on parchment that I have split from the skins of native sheep, with 
 my own hands, but badly I fear, though I have seen that art practised 
 when I was a merchant of the Cheap in London Town. 
   
 I will begin at the beginning. 
   
 I am the son of a fishing-boat owner and was a trader in the ancient 
 town of Hastings, and my father was drowned while following his trade 
 at sea. Afterwards, being the only child left of his, I took on his 
 business, and on a certain day went out to sea to net fish with two of 
 my serving men. I was then a young man of about three and twenty years 
 of age and not uncomely. My hair, which I wore long, was fair in colour 
 and curled. My eyes, set wide apart, were and still are large and blue, 
 although they have darkened somewhat and sunk into the head in this land 
 of heat and sunshine. My nose was wide-nostrilled and large, my mouth 
 also was over-large, although my mother and some others used to think 
 it well-shaped. In truth, I was large all over though not so tall, being 
 burly, with a great breadth of chest and uncommon thickness through the 
 body, and very strong; so strong that there were few who could throw me 
 when I was young. 
   
 For the rest, like King David, I, who am now so tanned and weather worn 
 that at a little distance were my hair and beard hidden I might almost 
 be taken for one of the Indian chiefs about me, was of a ruddy and a 
 pleasant countenance, perhaps because of my wonderful health, who had 
 never known a day of sickness, and of an easy nature that often goes 
 with health. I will add this, for why should I not--that I was no fool, 
 but one of those who succeed in that upon which they set their minds. 
 Had I been a fool I should not to-day be the king of a great people and 
 the husband of their queen; indeed, I should not be alive. 
   
 But enough of myself and my appearance in those years that seem as far 
 off as though they had never been save in the land of dreams. 
   
 Now I and my two serving men, sailors both of them like myself and most 
 of the folk of Hastings set out upon a summer eve, purposing to fish all 
 night and return at dawn. We came to our chosen ground and cast out the 
 net, meeting with wonderful fortune since by three in the morning the 
 big boat was full of every kind of fish. Never before, indeed, had we 
 made so large a haul. 
   
 Looking back at that great catch, as here in this far land it is my 
 habit to do upon everything, however small, that happened to me in my 
 youth before I became a wanderer and an exile, I seem to see in it an 
 omen. For has it not always been my lot in life to be kissed of fortune 
 and to gather great store, and then of a sudden to lose it all as I was 
 to lose that rich multitude of fishes? 
   
 To-day, when I write this, once more I have great wealth of pomp and 
 love and power, of gold also, more than I can count. When I go forth, my 
 armies, who still look on me as half a god, shout their welcome and kiss 
 the air after their heathen fashion. My beauteous queen bows down to me 
 and the women of my household abase themselves into the dust. The 
 people of the Ancient City of Gold turn their faces to the wall and the 
 children cover their eyes with their hands that they may not look upon 
 my splendour as I pass, while maidens throw flowers for my feet to 
 tread. Upon my judgment hangs life or death, and my lightest word is as 
 though it were spoken from heaven. These and many other things are mine, 
 the trappings of power, the prerogative of the Lord-from-the-Sea who 
 brought victory to the Chanca people and led them back to their ancient 
 home where they might live safe, far from the Inca's rage. 
   
 And yet often, as I sit alone in my splendour upon the roof of the 
 ancient halls or wander through the starlit palace gardens, I call to 
 mind that great catch of fishes in the English sea and of what followed 
 after. I call to mind also my prosperity and wealth as one of the first 
 merchants of London Town and what followed after. I call to mind, too, 
 the winning of Blanche Aleys, the lady so far above me in rank and 
 station and what followed after. Then it is that I grow afraid of what 
 may follow after this present hour of peace and love and plenty. 
   
 Certainly one thing will follow, and that is death. It may come late 
 or it may come soon. But yesterday a rumour reached me through my spies 
 that Kari Upanqui, the Inca of Tavantinsuyu, he who once was as my 
 brother, but who now hates me because of his superstitions, and because 
 I took a Virgin of the Sun to be my wife, gathers a great host to follow 
 on the path we trod many years ago when the Chancas fled from the Inca 
 tyranny back to their home in the ancient City of Gold and to smite us 
 here. That host, said the rumours, cannot march till next year, and then 
 will be another year upon its journey. Still, knowing Kari, I am sure 
 that it will march, yes, and arrive, after which must befall the great 
 battle in the mountain passes wherein, as of old, I shall lead the 
 Chanca armies. 
   
 Perchance I am doomed to fall in that battle. Does not the rune upon 
 Wave-Flame, the sword of Thorgrimmer my ancestor, say of him that holds 
 it that, 
   
      "Conquering, conquered shall he be, 
      And far away shall sleep with me"? 
   
 Well, if the Chancas conquer, what care I if I am conquered? 'Twould be 
 a good death and a clean, to fall by Kari's spear, if I knew that Kari 
 and his host fell also, as I swear that fall they shall, St. Hubert 
 helping me. Then at least Quilla and her children would live on in peace 
 and greatness since they can have no other foe to fear. 
   
 Death, what is death? I say that it is the hope of every one of us and 
 most of all the exile and the wanderer. At the best it may be glory; at 
 the worst it must be sleep. Moreover, am I so happy that I should fear 
 to die? Quilla cannot read this writing, and therefore I will answer, 
 No. I am a Christian, but she and those about her, aye, my own children 
 with them, worship the moon and the host of heaven. I am white-skinned, 
 they are the hue of copper, though it is true that my little daughter, 
 Gudruda, whom I named so after my mother, is almost white. There are 
 secrets in their hearts that I shall never learn and there are secrets 
 in mine from which they cannot draw the veil because our bloods are 
 different. Yet God knows, I love them well enough, and most of all that 
 greatest of women, Quilla. 
   
 Oh! the truth is that here on earth there is no happiness for man. 
   
 It is because of this rumour of the coming of Kari with his host that I 
 set myself to this task, that I have long had in my mind, to write down 
 something of my history, both in England and in this land which, at any 
 rate for hundreds of years, mine is the first white foot to press. It 
 seems a foolish thing to do since when I have written who will read, and 
 what will chance to that which I have written? I shall leave orders that 
 it be placed beneath my feet in the tomb, but who will ever find that 
 tomb again? Still I write because something in my heart urges me to the 
 task. 
   
   
   
 I return to the far-off days. Our boat being full with merry hearts we 
 set sail before a faint wind for Hastings beach. As yet there was little 
 light and much fog, still the landward breeze was enough to draw us 
 forward. Then of a sudden we heard sounds as of men talking upon ships 
 and the clank of spars and blocks. Presently came a puff of air lifting 
 the fog for a little and we saw that we were in the midst of a 
 great fleet, a French fleet, for the Lilies of France flew at their 
 mast-heads, saw, too, that their prows were set for Hastings, though 
 for the while they were becalmed, since the wind that was enough for our 
 light, large-sailed fishing-boat could not stir their bulk. Moreover, 
 they saw us, for the men-at-arms on the nearest ship shouted threats and 
 curses at us and followed the shouts with arrows that almost hit us. 
   
 Then the fog closed down again, and in it we slipped through the French 
 fleet. 
   
 It may have been the best part of an hour later that we reached 
 Hastings. Before the boat was made fast to the jetty, I sprang to it 
 shouting: 
   
 "Stir! stir! the French are upon you! To arms! We have slipped through a 
 whole fleet of them in the mist." 
   
 Instantly the sleepy quay seemed to awaken. From the neighbouring fish 
 market, from everywhere sailormen and others came running, followed by 
 children with gaping mouths, while from the doors of houses far away 
 shot women with scared faces, like ferreted rabbits from their burrows. 
 In a minute the crowd had surrounded me, all asking questions at once in 
 such a fashion that I could only answer them with my cry of: 
   
 "Stir! the French are upon you. To arms, I say. To arms!" 
   
 Presently through the throng advanced an old white-bearded man who wore 
 a badge of office, crying as he came, "Make way for the bailiff!" 
   
 The crowd obeyed, opening a path, and soon we were face to face. 
   
 "What is it, Hubert of Hastings?" he asked. "Is there fire that you 
 shout so loudly?" 
   
 "Aye, Worship," I answered. "Fire and murder and all the gifts that the 
 French have for England. The Fleet of France is beating up for Hastings, 
 fifty sail of them or more. We crept through them in the fog, for the 
 wind which would scarce move them served our turn and beyond an arrow or 
 two, they took no note of a fishing-boat." 
   
 "Whence come they?" asked the bailiff, bewildered. 
   
 "I know not, but those in another boat we passed in the midst shouted 
 that these French were ravaging the coast and heading for Hastings 
 to put it to fire and sword. Then that boat vanished away, I know not 
 where, and that is all I have to tell save that the French will be here 
 within an hour." 
   
 Without staying to ask more questions, the bailiff turned and ran 
 towards the town, and presently the alarm bells rang out from the towers 
 of All Saints and St. Clement's, while criers summoned all men to the 
 market-place. Meanwhile I, not without a sad look at my boat and the 
 rich catch within, made my way into the town, followed by my two men. 
   
 Presently I reached an ancient, timbered house, long, low, and rambling, 
 with a yard by its side full of barrels, anchors, and other marine 
 stores such as rope, that had to do with the trade I carried on at this 
 place. 
   
 I, Hubert, with a mind full of fears, though not for myself, and a 
 stirring of the blood such as was natural to my age at the approach 
 of my first taste of battle, ran fast up to that house which I have 
 described, and paused for a moment by the big elm tree that grew in 
 front of the door, of which the lower boughs were sawn off because they 
 shut out the light from the windows. I remember that elm tree very 
 well, first because when I was a child starlings nested in a hole in the 
 trunk, and I reared one in a wicker cage and made a talking bird of it 
 which I kept for several years. It was so tame that it used to go about 
 sitting on my shoulder, till at last, outside the town a cat frightened 
 it thence, and before I could recapture it, it was taken by a hawk, 
 which hawk I shot afterwards with an arrow out of revenge. 
   
 Also this elm is impressed upon me by the fact that on that morning when 
 I halted by it, I noted how green and full of leaf it was. Next morning, 
 after the fire, I saw it again, all charred and blackened, with its 
 beautiful foliage withered by the heat. This contrast remained upon my 
 memory, and whenever I see any great change of fortune from prosperity 
 to ruin, or from life to death, always I bethink me of that elm. For 
 it is by little things which we ourselves have seen and not by those 
 written of or told by others, that we measure and compare events. 
   
 The reason that I ran so hard and then paused by the elm, was because 
 my widowed mother lived in that house. Knowing that the French meant 
 mischief for a good reason, because one of their arrows, or perhaps a 
 quarrel from a cross-bow, whistled just past my head out there upon the 
 sea, my first thought was to get her away to some place of safety, no 
 easy task seeing that she was infirm with age. My second, that which 
 caused me to pause by the tree, was how I should break the news to her 
 in such a fashion that she would not be over-frightened. Having thought 
 this over I went on into the house. 
   
 The door opened into the sitting-room that had a low roof of plaster and 
 big oak beams. There I found my mother kneeling by the table upon which 
 food was set for breakfast: fried herrings, cold meat, and a jug of ale. 
 She was saying her prayers after her custom, being very religious 
 though in a new fashion, since she was a follower of a preacher called 
 Wycliffe, who troubled the Church in those days. She seemed to have gone 
 to sleep at her prayers, and I watched her for a moment, hesitating to 
 waken her. My mother, as even then I noted, was a very handsome woman, 
 though old, for I was born when she had been married twenty years or 
 more, with white hair and well-cut features that showed the good blood 
 of which she came, for she was better bred than my father and quarrelled 
 with her kin to marry him. 
   
 At the sound of my footsteps she woke up and saw me. 
   
 "Strange," she said, "I slept at my prayers who did so little last 
 night, as has become a habit with me when you are out a-fishing, for 
 which God forgive me, and dreamed that there was some trouble forward. 
 Scold me not, Hubert, for when the sea has taken the father and two 
 sons, it is scarcely wonderful that I should be fearful for the last of 
 my blood. Help me to rise, Hubert, for this water seems to gather in my 
 limbs and makes them heavy. One day, the leech says, it will get to the 
 heart and then all will be over." 
   
 I obeyed, first kissing her on the brow, and when she was seated in her 
 armed chair by the table, I said, 
   
 "You dream too well, Mother. There is trouble. Hark! St. Clement's 
 bells are talking of it. The French come to visit Hastings. I know for I 
 sailed through their fleet just after dawn." 
   
 "Is it so?" she asked quietly. "I feared worse. I feared lest the dream 
 meant that you had gone to join your brothers in the deep. Well, the 
 French are not here yet, as thank God you are. So eat and drink, for we 
 of England fight best on full bellies." 
   
 Again I obeyed who was very hungry after that long night and needed food 
 and ale, and as I swallowed them we heard the sound of folk shouting and 
 running. 
   
 "You are in haste, Hubert, to join the others on the quay and send 
 a Frenchman or two to hell with that big bow of yours?" she said 
 inquiringly. 
   
 "Nay," I answered, "I am in haste to get you out of this town, which I 
 fear may be burnt. There is a certain cave up yonder by the Minnes Rock 
 where I think you might lie safe, Mother." 
   
 "It has come down to me from my fathers, Hubert, that it was never the 
 fashion of the women of the north to keep their men to shield them when 
 duty called them otherwhere. I am helpless in my limbs and heavy, and 
 cannot climb, or be borne up yonder hill to any cave. Here I stop where 
 I have dwelt these five-and-forty years, to live or die as God pleases. 
 Get you to your duty, man. Stay. Call those wenches and bid them fly 
 inland to their folk, out Burwash way. They are young and fleet of foot, 
 and no Frenchman will catch them." 
   
 I summoned the girls who were staring, white-faced, from the attic 
 window-place. In three minutes they were gone, though it is true that 
 one of them, the braver, wished to bide with her mistress. 
   
 I watched them start up the street with other fugitives who were pouring 
 out of Hastings, and came back to my mother. As I did so a great shout 
 told me that the French fleet had been sighted. 
   
 "Hubert," she said, "take this key and go to the oak chest in my 
 sleeping room, lift out the linen at the top and bring me that which 
 lies wrapped in cloth beneath." 
   
 I did so, returning with a bundle that was long and thin. With a knife 
 she cut the string that tied it. Within were a bag of money and a sword 
 in an ancient scabbard covered with a rough skin which I took to be that 
 of a shark, which scabbard in parts was inlaid with gold. 
   
 "Draw it," said my mother. 
   
 I did so, and there came to light a two-edged blade of blue steel, 
 such as I had never seen before, for on the blade were engraved strange 
 characters whereof I could make nothing, although as it chanced I could 
 read and write, having been taught by the monks in my childhood. The 
 hilt, also, that was in the form of a cross, had gold inlaid upon it; 
 at the top of it, a large knob or apple of amber, much worn by handling. 
 For the rest it was a beauteous weapon and well balanced. 
   
 "What of this sword?" I asked. 
   
 "This, Son. With the black bow that you have," and she pointed to the 
 case that leaned against the table, "it has come down in my family 
 for many generations. My father told me that it was the sword of one 
 Thorgrimmer, his ancestor, a Norseman, a Viking he called him, who came 
 with those who took England before the Norman time; which I can well 
 believe since my father's name, like mine, till I married, was Grimmer. 
 This sword, also, has a name and it is Wave-Flame. With it, the tale 
 tells, Thorgrimmer did great deeds, slaying many after their heathen 
 fashion in his battles by land and sea. For he was a wanderer, and it is 
 said of him that once he sailed to a new land far across the ocean, and 
 won home again after many strange adventures, to die at last here in 
 England in some fray. That is all I know, save that a learned man from 
 the north once told my father's father that the writing on the sword 
 means:-- 
   
      "He who lifts Wave-Flame on high 
      In love shall live and in battle die; 
      Storm-tossed o'er wide seas shall roam 
      And in strange lands shall make his home. 
      Conquering, conquered shall he be, 
      And far away shall sleep with me. 
   
 "Those were the words which I remember because of the jingle of them; 
 also because such seems to have been the fate of Thorgrimmer and the 
 sword that his grandson took from his tomb." 
   
 Here I would have asked about this grandson and the tomb, but having no 
 time, held my peace. 
   
 "All my life have I kept that sword," went on my mother, "not giving it 
 to your father or brothers, lest the fate written on it should befall 
 them, for those old wizards of the north, who fashioned such weapons 
 with toil and skill, could foresee the future--as at times I can, for 
 it is in my blood. Yet now I am moved to bid you take it, Hubert, and go 
 where its flame leads you and dree your gloom, whatever it may be, for I 
 know you will use it like Thorgrimmer's self." 
   
 She paused for a moment, then went on: 
   
 "Hubert, perhaps we part for the last time, for I think that my hour 
 is at hand. But let not that trouble you, since I am glad to go to join 
 those who went before, and others with them, perchance Thorgrimmer's 
 self. Hearken, Hubert. If aught befalls me, or this place, stay not 
 here. Go to London town and seek out John Grimmer, my brother, the rich 
 merchant and goldsmith who dwells in the place called Cheap. He knew you 
 as a child and loved you, and lacking offspring of his own will welcome 
 you for both our sakes. My father would not give John the sword lest its 
 fate should be on him, but I say that John will be glad to welcome one 
 of our race who holds it in his hand. Take it then, and with it that bag 
 of gold, which may prove of service ere all be done. 
   
 "Aye, and there is one more thing--this ring which, so says the tale, 
 came down with the sword and the bow, and once had writing on it like 
 the sword, though that is long since rubbed away. Take it and wear it 
 till perchance, in some day to come, you give it to another as I did." 
   
 Wondering at all this tale which, after her secret fashion, my mother 
 had kept from me till that hour, I set the ring upon my finger. 
   
 "I gave yonder ring to your father on the day that we were betrothed," 
 went on my mother, "and I took it back again from his corpse after he 
 had been found floating in the sea. Now I pass it on to you who soon 
 will be all that is left of both of us." 
   
 "Hark!" she continued, "the crier summons all men with their arms to the 
 market-place to fight England's foes. Therefore one word more while I 
 buckle the sword Wave-Flame on to you, as doubtless his women folk did 
 on to Thorgrimmer, your ancestor. My blessing on you, Hubert. Be you 
 such a one as Thorgrimmer was, for we of the Norse blood desire that 
 our loves and sons should prove not backward when swords are aloft 
 and arrows fly. But be you more than he, be you a Christian also, 
 remembering that however long you live, and the Battle-maidens have not 
 marked you yet, at last you must die and give account. 
   
 "Hubert, you are such a one as women will love; one, too, who, I fear 
 me, will be a lover of women, for that weakness goes with strength and 
 manhood by Nature's laws. Be careful of women, Hubert, and if you may, 
 choose those who are not false and cling to her who is most true. Oh, 
 you will wander far; I read it in your eyes that you will wander far, 
 yet shall your heart stay English. Kiss me and begone! Lad, are you 
 forgetting your spare arrows and the bull-hide jerkin that was your 
 father's? You will want them both to-day. Farewell, farewell! God and 
 His Christ be with you--and shoot you straight and smite you hard. Nay, 
 no tears, lest my eyes should be dimmed, for I'll climb to the attic and 
 watch you fight." 
   
   
   
 CHAPTER II 
   
 THE LADY BLANCHE 
   
 So I went, with a sore heart, for I remembered that when my father and 
 brothers were drowned, although I was then but a little one, my mother 
 had foreseen it, and I feared much lest it might be thus in her own case 
 also. I loved my mother. She was a stern woman, it was true, with little 
 softness about her, which I think came with her blood, but she had a 
 high heart, and oh! her last words were noble. Yet through it all I 
 was pleased, as any young man would have been, with the gift of the 
 wonderful sword which once had been that of Thorgrimmer, the sea-rover, 
 whose blood ran in my body against which it lay, and I hoped that 
 this day I might have chance to use it worthily as Thorgrimmer did in 
 forgotten battles. Having imagination, I wondered also whether the sword 
 knew that after its long sleep it had come forth again to drink the 
 blood of foes. 
   
 Also I was pleased with another thing, namely, that my mother had 
 told me that I should live my life and not die that day by the hand 
 of Frenchmen; and that in my life I should find love, of which to tell 
 truth already I knew a little of a humble sort, for I was a comely 
 youth, and women did not run away from me, or if they did, soon they 
 stopped. I wanted to live my life, I wanted to see great adventures and 
 to win great love. The only part of the business which was not to my 
 taste was that command of my mother's, that I should go to London to sit 
 in a goldsmith's shop. Still, I had heard that there was much to be seen 
 in London, and at least it would be different from Hastings. 
   
 The street outside our doors was crowded with folk, some of the men 
 making their way to the market-place, about whom hung women and children 
 weeping; others, old people, wives and girls and little ones fleeing 
 from the town. I found the two sailormen who had been with me on the 
 boat, waiting for me. They were brawny fellows named Jack Grieves and 
 William Bull, who had been in our service since my childhood, good 
 fishermen and fighters both; indeed one of them, William Bull, had 
 served in the French wars. 
   
 "We knew that you were coming, Master, so we bided here for you," said 
 William, who having once been an archer was armed with a bow and a short 
 sword, whereas Jack had only an axe, also a knife such as we used on the 
 smacks for cleaning fish. 
   
 I nodded, and we went on to the market-place and joined the throng of 
 men, a vast number of them, who were gathered there to defend Hastings 
 and their homes. Nor were we too soon, for the French ships were already 
 beaching within a few yards of the shore or on it, their draught being 
 but small, while the sailors and men-at-arms were pushing off in small 
 boats or wading to the strand. 
   
 There was great confusion in the market-place, for as is common in 
 England, no preparation had been made against attack though such was 
 always to be feared. 
   
 The bailiff ran about shouting orders, as did others, but proper 
 officers were lacking, so that in the end men acted as the fancy took 
 them. Some went down towards the beach and shot with arrows at the 
 Frenchmen. Others took refuge in houses, others stood irresolute, 
 waiting, knowing not which way to turn. I and my two men were with those 
 who went on to the beach where I loosed some arrows from my big black 
 bow, and saw a man fall before one of them. 
   
 But we could do little or nothing, for these Frenchmen were trained 
 soldiers under proper command. They formed themselves into companies 
 and advanced, and we were driven back. I stopped as long as I dared, 
 and drawing the sword, Wave-Flame, fought with a Frenchman who was in 
 advance of the others. What is more, making a great blow at his head 
 which I missed, I struck him on the arm and cut it off, for I saw it 
 fall to the ground. Then others rushed up at me and I fled to save my 
 life. 
   
 Somehow I found myself being pressed up the steep Castle Hill with a 
 number of Hastings folk, followed by the French. We reached the Castle 
 and got into it, but the old portcullis would not close, and in sundry 
 places the walls were broken down. Here we found a number of women who 
 had climbed for refuge, thinking that the place would be safe. Among 
 these was a beautiful and high-born maiden whom I knew by sight. Her 
 father was Sir Robert Aleys who, I believe, was then the Warden of the 
 Castle of Pevensey, and she was named the lady Blanche. Once, indeed, I 
 had spoken with her on an occasion too long to tell. Then her large blue 
 eyes, which she knew well how to use, had left me with a swimming head, 
 for she was very fair and very sweet and gracious, with a most soft 
 voice, and quite unlike any other woman I had ever seen, nor did she 
 seem at all proud. Soon her father, an old knight, who had no name for 
 gentleness in the countryside, but was said to be a great lover of gold, 
 had come up and swept her away, asking her what she did, talking with a 
 common fishing churl. This had happened some months before. 
   
 Well, there I found her in the Castle, alone it seemed, and knowing me 
 again, which I thought strange, she ran to me, praying me to protect 
 her. More, she began to tell me some long tale, to which I had not time 
 to listen, of how she had come to Hastings with her father, Sir Robert, 
 and a young lord named Deleroy, who, I understood, was some kinsman of 
 hers, and slept there. How, too, she had been separated from them in the 
 throng when they were attempting to return to Pevensey which her father 
 must go to guard, because her horse was frightened and ran away, and 
 of how finally men took her by the arm and brought her to this castle, 
 saying that it was the safest place. 
   
 "Then here you must bide, Lady Blanche," I answered, cutting her short. 
 "Cling to me and I will save you if I can, even if it costs me my life." 
   
 Certainly she did cling to me for all the rest of that terrible day, as 
 will be seen. 
   
 From this height we saw Hastings beginning to burn, for the Frenchmen 
 had fired the town in sundry places, and being built of wood, it burnt 
 furiously. Also we saw and heard horrible scenes and sounds of rapine, 
 such as chance in this Christian world of ours where a savage foe finds 
 peaceful folk of another race at his mercy. In the houses people were 
 burnt; in the streets they were being murdered, or worse. Yes, even 
 children were murdered, for afterwards I saw the bodies of some of them. 
   
 Awhile later through the wreaths of smoke we perceived companies of the 
 French advancing to attack the Castle. There may have been three hundred 
 of them in all, and we did not count more than fifty men, some of 
 us ill-armed, together with a mob of aged people and many women and 
 children. What had become of the other men I do not know, but orders 
 had been shouted from all quarters, and some had gone this way and some 
 that. Some, too, I think, had fled, lacking leaders. 
   
 The French having climbed the hill, began to attack our ill-fenced 
 gateways, bringing up beams of timber to force them in. Those of us who 
 had bows shot some of them, though, their armour being good, for the 
 most part the arrows glanced. But few had bows. Moreover, whenever we 
 showed ourselves they poured such a rain of quarrels and other shafts 
 upon us that we could not face it, lacking mail as we did, and a number 
 of us were killed or wounded. At last they forced the easternmost gate 
 which was the weakest, and got in there and over a place in the wall 
 were it was broken. We fought them as well as we could; myself I cut 
 down two with the sword, Wave-Flame, hewing right through the helm of 
 one, for the steel of that sword was good. Here, too, Jack Grieves was 
 killed by my side by a pike thrust, and died calling to me to fight on 
 for old England and Hastings town; after which he said something about 
 beer and breathed his last. 
   
 The end of it was that those who were left were driven out of the Castle 
 together with the women and children, the murdering French killing every 
 man who fell wounded where he lay, and trying to make prisoner any women 
 they thought young and fair enough. Especially did they seek to capture 
 the lady Blanche because they saw that she was beautiful and of high 
 station. But by good fortune more than aught else, I saved her from this 
 fate. 
   
 As it chanced we were among the last to leave the Castle, whence, to 
 tell the truth, I was loath to go, for by now my blood was up, and with 
 a few others fought till I was driven out. I prayed the lady Blanche to 
 run forward with the other women. But she would not, answering that she 
 trusted no one else, but would stay to die with me, as though that would 
 help either of us. 
   
 Thus it came about that a tall French knight who had set his eyes on 
 her, outclimbed his fellows upon the slope of the hill, for they were 
 weary and gathering to re-form, and catching her round the middle, 
 strove to drag her away. I fell on him and we fought. He had fine armour 
 and a shield while I had none, but I held the long sword while he only 
 wielded a battle-axe. I knew that if he could get in a blow with that 
 battle-axe, I was sped, since the bull's hide of my jerkin would never 
 stand against it. Therefore it was my business to keep out of his reach. 
 This, being young and active, for the most part I made shift to do, 
 especially as he could not move very quickly in his mail. The end of it 
 was that I cut him on the arm through a joint in his harness, whereon he 
 rushed at me, swearing French oaths. 
   
 I leapt on one side and as he passed, smote with all my strength. The 
 blow fell between neck and shoulder, from behind as it were, and such 
 was the temper of that sword named Wave-Flame that it shore through his 
 mail deep into the flesh beneath, to the backbone as I believe. At least 
 he went down in a heap--I remember the rattle of his armour as he fell, 
 and there lay still. Then we fled on down the steep path, I holding the 
 bloody sword with one hand and Lady Blanche with the other, while she 
 thanked me with her eyes. 
   
 At length we were in the town again, running up my own street. On either 
 side of us the houses burned, and behind us came another body of the 
 French. The reek got into our eyes and we stumbled over dead or fainting 
 people. 
   
 Looking to the left I caught sight of the elm tree of which I have 
 spoken, that grew in front of our door, and saw that the house behind 
 it was burning. Yes, and I saw more, for at the attic window, which was 
 open, the flames making an arch round her, sat my mother. Moreover, she 
 was singing for I heard her voice and the wild words she sang, though 
 this was a strange thing for a woman to do in the hour of such a death. 
 Further, she saw and knew me, for she waved her hands to me, then 
 pointed towards the sea, why, I did not guess at the time. I stopped, 
 purposing to try to rescue her though the front of the house was 
 flaming, and the attempt must have ended in my death. But at that moment 
 the roof fell in, causing the fire to spout upwards and outwards. This 
 was the last that I saw of my mother, though afterwards we found her 
 body and gave it burial with those of many other victims. 
   
 There was no time to stay, for the conquering French were pouring up the 
 street behind us, shooting as they came and murdering any laggards whom 
 they could catch. On we went up the steep slope of the Minnes Rock. I 
 would have fled on into the open country, but the lady Blanche had no 
 strength left. Twice she sank to the ground, stricken with terror and 
 weariness, and each time prayed me not to leave her; nor indeed did I 
 wish to do so. The end of it was that William Bull and I between us 
 half carried her with much toil to the cave of which I had spoken to my 
 mother. The task was heavy and slow, since always we must scramble over 
 sheer ground. What is more, a party of the French, seeing our plight, 
 followed us. Perhaps some of them guessed who the lady was, for there 
 were many spies in Hastings who might have told them, and desired to 
 capture and hold her to ransom. 
   
 At the least they came on after us and a few others, women all of them, 
 who had joined our company, being unable to travel further, or trusting 
 to William Bull and myself to protect them. 
   
 We reached the cave, and thrusting the women along it, William and I 
 stood in the mouth and waited. He had no bow and all my arrows were gone 
 save three, but of these I, who was noted for my archery, determined 
 to make the best use I could. So I drew them out, and having strung 
 the bow, sat down to get my breath. On came the French, shouting and 
 jabbering at us to the effect that they would cut our throats and carry 
 off _la belle dame_ to be their sport. 
   
 "She shall be mine!" yelled a big fellow with a flattened nose and a 
 wide mouth who was ahead of the others, and not more than fifty yards 
 away. 
   
 I rose, and praying my patron, good St. Hubert after whom I was named 
 because I first saw light upon his day, the 23rd of November, to give 
 me skill, I drew the great bow to my ear, aimed, and loosed. Nor did 
 St. Hubert, a lover of fine shooting, fail me in my need, for that arrow 
 rushed out and found its home in the big mouth of the Frenchman, through 
 which it passed, pinning his foul tongue to his neck bone. 
   
 Down he went, and cheered by the sight I refitted and loosed at the 
 next. Him, too, the arrow caught, so that he fell almost on the other. 
   
 I set the third and last arrow on the string and waited a space. Behind 
 these two was a squat, broad man, a knight I suppose, for he wore 
 armour, and had a shield with a cock painted on it. This man, frightened 
 by the fate of his companions, yet not minded to give up the venture 
 for those in rear of him urged him on, bent himself almost double, and 
 holding the shield over his helm which was closed, so as to protect his 
 head and body, came on at a good pace. 
   
 I waited till he was within five-and-twenty yards or so, hoping that 
 the roughness of the ground would cause him to stumble and the shield to 
 shift so that I could get a chance at him behind it. But I did not, so 
 at last, again praying to St. Hubert, I drew the big bow till the string 
 touched my ear, and let drive. The shaft, pointed with tempered steel, 
 struck the shield full in the centre, and by Heaven, pierced it, aye, 
 and the mail behind, aye, and the flesh it covered, so that he, too, got 
 his death. 
   
 "A great shot, Master," said William, "that no other bow in Hastings 
 could have sped." 
   
 "Not so ill," I answered, "but it is my last. Now we must fight as we 
 can with sword and axe until we be sped." 
   
 William nodded, and the women in the cave began to wail while I unstrung 
 my bow and set it in its case, from habit I think, seeing that I never 
 hoped to look upon it again. 
   
 Just then from the French ships in the harbour there came a great 
 blaring of trumpets giving some alarm, and the Frenchmen of a sudden, 
 ceasing from their attack, turned and ran towards the shore. I stepped 
 out of the cave with William and looked. There on the sea, drawing near 
 from the east before a good wind, I saw ships, and saw, too, that from 
 their masts flew the pennons of England, for the golden leopards gleamed 
 in the sun. 
   
 "It is our fleet, William," I said, "come to talk with these French." 
   
 "Then I would that it had come sooner," answered William. "Still, better 
 now than not at all." 
   
   
   
 Thus were we saved, through Hamo de Offyngton, the Abbot of Battle 
 Abbey, or so I was told afterwards, who collected a force by land and 
 sea and drove off the French after they had ravaged the Isle of Wight, 
 attacked Winchelsea, and burned the greater part of Hastings. So it 
 came about that in the end these pirates took little benefit by their 
 wickedness, since they lost sundry ships with all on board, and others 
 left in such haste that their people remained on shore where they were 
 slain by the mob that gathered as soon as it was seen that they were 
 deserted, helped by a company of the Abbot's men who had marched from 
 Battle. But with all this I had nothing to do who now that the fight 
 was over, felt weak as a child and could think of little save that I had 
 seen my mother burning. 
   
 Presently, however, that happened which woke me from my grief and caused 
 my blood which had grown sluggish to run again. For when she knew that 
 she was safe the lady Blanche came out of the cave and addressed me as I 
 stood there leaning against the rock with the red sword Wave-Flame in my 
 hand, as I had drawn it to make ready for the last fight to the death. 
 All sorts of sweet names she called me--a hero, her deliverer, and I 
 know not what besides. 
   
 In the end, as I made no answer, being dazed, also hurt by an axe blow 
 on the breast which I had not felt before, dealt by that Frenchman whom 
 I slew near the Castle, she did more. Throwing her arms about me she 
 kissed me thrice, on either cheek and on the lips, doubtless because she 
 was overwrought, and in her thankfulness forgot her maidenly reserve, 
 though as William Bull said afterwards, this forgetfulness did not cause 
 her to kiss him who had also helped her up the hill. 
   
 Those kisses were like wine to me, for it is strange how, if we love 
 her, by the decree of Nature the touch of a beautiful woman's lips, felt 
 for the first time, affects us in our youth. Whatever else we forget, 
 that we always remember, however false those lips afterwards be proved. 
 For then the wax is soft and the die sinks deep, so deep that no 
 after-heats can melt its stamp and no fretting wear it out while we live 
 beneath the sun. 
   
 Now my young blood being awakened, I was minded to return those kisses, 
 and began to do so with a Jew's interest, when I heard a rough voice 
 swearing many strange oaths, and heard also the other women who had 
 sheltered with us in the cave begin to titter, for the moment forgetting 
 all their private woes, as those of their sex will do when there is 
 kissing in the wind. 
   
 "God's blood!" said the rough voice, "who is this that handles my 
 daughter as though they had been but an hour wed? Take those lips of 
 yours from her, fellow, or I'll cut them from your chops." 
   
 I looked round astonished, to see Sir Robert Aleys mounted on a grey 
 horse, and followed by a company of men-at-arms who appeared to be under 
 the command of a well-favoured, dark-eyed young captain with long hair, 
 and dressed more wondrously than any man I had ever seen before. Had he 
 put on Joseph's coat over his mail, he could not have worn more colours, 
 and I noted that the toes of his shoes curled up so high that I wondered 
 however he worked them through his stirrups, and what would happen to 
 him if by chance he were unhorsed. 
   
 Being taken aback I made no answer, but William Bull, who, if a rough 
 fellow, had a tongue in his head and a ready wit, spoke up for me. 
   
 "If you want to know," he said in his Sussex drawl, "I'll tell you who 
 he is, Sir Robert Aleys. He is my worshipful master, Hubert of Hastings, 
 ship-owner, householder, and trader of this town. Or at least he was 
 these things, but now it seems that his ships and house are burnt and 
 his mother with them; also that there will be no trade in Hastings for 
 many a day." 
   
 "Mayhap," answered Sir Robert, adding other oaths, "but why does he buss 
 my daughter?" 
   
 "Perchance because he must give as good as he got, which is a law among 
 honest merchants, noble Sir Robert. Or perchance because he has a better 
 right to buss her than any man alive, seeing that but for him, by now 
 she would be but stinking clay, or a Frenchman's leman." 
   
 Here the fine young captain cut in, saying, 
   
 "Whatever else this worshipful trader may need, he does not lack a 
 trumpeter." 
   
 "That is so, my Lord Deleroy," replied William, unmoved, "for when I 
 find a good song I like to sing it. Go now and look at those three men 
 who lie yonder on the slope, and see whether the arrows in them bear my 
 master's mark. Go also and look upon the Castle hill and find a knight 
 with his head well-nigh hewn from his shoulders, and see whether yonder 
 sword fits into the cut. Aye, and at others that I could tell you of, 
 slain, every one of them, to save this fair lady. Aye, go you whose 
 garments are so fine and unstained, and then come back and talk of 
 trumpeters." 
   
 "Pish!" said my Lord Deleroy with a shrug of his shoulders, "a lady who 
 is over-wrought and hangs to some common fellow, like one who kisses the 
 feet of a wooden saint that she thinks has saved her from calamity!" 
   
 At these words I, who had been listening like a man in a dream, awoke, 
 as it were, for they stung me. Moreover, I had heard that this fine 
 Deleroy was one of those who owed his place and rank to the King's 
 favour, as he did his high name, being, it was reported, by birth but a 
 prince's bastard sprung from some relative of Sir Robert whom therefore 
 he called cousin. 
   
 "Sir," I said, "you know best whether I am more common than you are. 
 Let that be. At least I hold in my hand the sword of one who begat my 
 forefather hundreds of years ago, a certain Thorgrimmer who was great in 
 his time. Now I have had my fill of fighting to-day, and you, doubtless 
 through no fault of your own, have had none; you also are clad in mail 
 and I, a common fellow, have none. Deign then to descend from that horse 
 and take a turn with me though I be tired, and thus prove my commonness 
 upon my body. Of your nobility do this, seeing that after all we are of 
 one flesh." 
   
 Now, stung in his turn, he made as though he would do what I prayed, 
 when for the first time, after glancing at her father who sat 
 still--puzzled, it would seem--the lady Blanche spoke. 
   
 "Be not mad, Cousin," she said. "I tell you that this gentleman has 
 saved my life and honour, twice at least to-day. Is it wonderful, then, 
 if I thanked him in the best fashion that a woman can, and thus brought 
 your insults on him?" 
   
 He hesitated, though one of his curled-up shoes was out of the stirrup, 
 when suddenly Sir Robert broke in in his big voice, saying: 
   
 "God's truth, Cousin, I think that you will do well to leave this young 
 cock alone, since I like not the look of that red spur of his," and he 
 glanced at the sword Wave-Flame. "Though he be weary, he may have a kick 
 or two in him yet." 
   
 Then he turned to me and added: 
   
 "Sir, you have fought well; many a man has earned knighthood for less, 
 and if a fair maid thanked you in her own fashion, you are not to blame. 
 I, her father, also thank you and wish you all good fortune till we meet 
 again. Farewell. Daughter, make shift to share this horse with me, and 
 let us away out of this stricken town to Pevensey, where perchance it 
 will please those French to call to-morrow." 
   
 A minute later they were gone, and I noted with a pang that as they went 
 the lady Blanche, having waved her good-bye to me, talked fast to her 
 cousin Deleroy and that he held her hand to steady her upon her father's 
 horse. 
   
   
   
 CHAPTER III 
   
 HUBERT COMES TO LONDON 
   
 When the lady Blanche was out of sight, followed by the women who had 
 sheltered with us in the cave, William and I went to a stream we knew of 
 not far away and drank our fill. Then we walked to the three whom I had 
 shot with my big bow, hoping to regain the arrows, for I had none left. 
 This, however, could not be done though all the men were dead, for one 
 of the shafts, the last, was broken, and the other two were so fixed in 
 flesh and bone that only a surgeon's saw would loose them. 
   
 So we left them where they were, and before the men were buried many 
 came to marvel at the sight, thinking it a wonderful thing that I should 
 have killed these three with three arrows, and that any bow which arm 
 might bend could have driven the last of them through an iron shield and 
 a breastplate behind it. 
   
 This armour, I should tell, William took for himself, since it was of 
 his size. Also on the morrow, returning to the Castle Hill, I stripped 
 the knight whom I had slain with the sword, Wave-Flame, of his splendid 
 Milan mail, whereof the _plastron_, or breast-plate, was inlaid with 
 gold, having over it a _camail_ of chain to cover the joints, through 
 which my good sword had shorn into his neck. The cognizance on his 
 shield strangely enough was three barbed arrows, but what was the name 
 of the knight who bore it I never learned. This mail, which must have 
 cost a great sum, the Bailiff of Hastings granted me to keep, since I 
 had slain its wearer and borne myself well in the fight. Moreover, I 
 took the three arrows for my own cognizance, though in truth I had no 
 right to any, being in those days but a trader. (Little did I know then 
 how well this mail was to serve me in the after years.) 
   
 By now night was coming on, and as we could see from the cave mouth 
 that the part of Hastings which lies towards the village of St. Leonards 
 seemed to have escaped the fire, thitherward we went by the beach to 
 avoid the heat and falling timbers in the burning town. On our way we 
 met others and from them heard all that had befallen. It would seem that 
 the French loss in life was heavier than our own, since many of them 
 were cut off when they tried to fly to their ships, and some of these 
 could not be floated from the beach or were rammed and sunk with all 
 aboard by the English vessels. But the damage done to Hastings was as 
 much as could scarcely be made good in a generation, for the most of it 
 was burnt or burning. Also many, like my own mother, had perished in 
 the fire, being sick or aged or in childbed, or for this reason and that 
 forgotten and unable to move. Indeed on the beach were hundreds of 
 folk in despair, nor was it only the women and children who wept that 
 evening. 
   
 For my part, with William I went beyond the burning to the house of a 
 certain old priest who was my confessor, and the friend of my father 
 before me, and there we found food and slept, he returning thanks to God 
 for my escape and offering me consolation for the loss of my mother and 
 goods. 
   
 I rested but ill that night, as those do who are over-weary. Moreover, 
 this had been my first taste of battle, and again and again I saw those 
 men falling before my sword and arrows. Very proud was I to have slain 
 them, wicked ravishers as they were, and very glad that from my boyhood 
 I had practised myself with sword and bow till I could fence with any, 
 and was perhaps the most skilled marksman in Hastings, having won the 
 silver arrow at the butts at the last meeting, and from archers of all 
 ages. Yet the sight of their deaths haunted me who remembered how well 
 their fate might have been my own, had they got in the first shot or 
 blow. 
   
 Where had they gone to, I wondered? To the priest's Heaven or Hell? Were 
 they now telling their sins to some hard-faced angel while he checked 
 the count from his book, reminding them of many that they had forgotten? 
 Or were they fast asleep for ever and ever as a shrewd thinker whom I 
 knew had told me secretly he was sure would be the fate of all of us, 
 whatever the priests might teach and believe. And where was my mother 
 whom I had loved and who loved me well, although outwardly she was so 
 stern a woman, my mother whom I had seen burned alive, singing as she 
 burned? Oh! it was a vile world, and it seemed strange that God should 
 cause men and women to be born that they might come to such cruel ends. 
 Yet who were we to question His decrees of which we knew neither the 
 beginning nor the finish? 
   
 Anyway, I was glad I was not dead, for now that all was over I trembled 
 and felt afraid, which I had never done during the fighting, even when 
 my hour seemed very near. 
   
 Lastly there was this high-born lady, Blanche Aleys, with whom fortune 
 had thrown me so strangely that day. Those blue eyes of hers had pierced 
 my heart like darts, and do what I would I might not rid my mind of the 
 thought of her, or my ears of the sound of her soft voice, while her 
 kisses seemed still to burn upon my lips. It wrung me to think that 
 perhaps I should never see her again, or that if I did I might not speak 
 with her, being so far beneath her in condition, and having already 
 earned the wrath of her father, and, as I guessed, the jealousy of that 
 scented cousin of hers whom they said the King loved like a brother. 
   
 What had my mother told me? To leave this place and go to London, there 
 to find my uncle, John Grimmer, goldsmith and merchant, who was my 
 godfather, and to ask him to take me into his business. I remembered 
 this uncle of mine, for some seven or eight years before, when I was a 
 growing lad, because there was a plague in London he had come down to 
 Hastings to visit us. He only stayed a week, however, because he said 
 that the sea air tied up his stomach and that he would rather risk 
 the plague with a good stomach than leave it behind him with a bad 
 one--though I think it was his business he thought of, not his stomach. 
   
 He was a strange old man, not unlike my mother, but with a nose more 
 hooked, small dark eyes, and a bald head on which he set a cap of 
 velvet. Even in the heat of summer he was always cold and wore a frayed 
 fur robe, complaining much if he came into a draught of air. Indeed he 
 looked like a Jew, though a good Christian enough, and laughed about 
 it, because he said that this appearance of his served him well in his 
 trade, since Jews were always feared, and it was held to be impossible 
 to overreach them. 
   
 For the rest I only recalled that he examined me as to my book learning 
 which did not satisfy him, and went about valuing all our goods and 
 fishing-boats, showing my mother how we were being cheated and might 
 earn more than we did. When he departed he gave me a gold piece and said 
 that Life was nothing but vanity, and that I must pray for his soul when 
 he was dead as he was sure it would need such help, also that I ought 
 to put the gold piece out to interest. This I did by buying with it a 
 certain fierce mastiff dog I coveted that had been brought on a ship 
 from Norway, which dog bit some great man in our town, who hauled my 
 mother before the bailiff about it and caused the poor beast to be 
 killed, to my great wrath. 
   
 Now that I came to think of it, I had liked my Uncle John well enough 
 although he was so different from others. Why should I not go to him? 
 Because I did not wish to sit in a shop in London, I who loved the sea 
 and the open air; also because I feared he might ask me what I had done 
 with that gold piece and make a mock of me about the dog. Yet my mother 
 had bidden me go, and it was her last command to me, her dying words 
 which it would be unlucky to disobey. Moreover, our boats and house 
 were burnt and I must work hard and long before these could be replaced. 
 Lastly, in London I should see no more of the lady Blanche Aleys, and 
 there could learn to forget the lights in her blue eyes. So I determined 
 that I would go, and at last fell asleep. 
   
 Next morning I made my confession to the old priest that, amongst other 
 matters, he might shrive me of the blood which I had shed, though this 
 he said needed no forgiveness from God or man, being, as I think, a 
 stout Englishman at heart. Also I took counsel with him as to what I 
 should do, and he told me it was my duty to obey my mother's wishes, 
 since such last words were often inspired from on high and declared the 
 will of Heaven. Further he pointed out that I should do well to avoid 
 the lady Blanche Aleys who was one far above me in degree, the following 
 of whom might bring me to trouble, or even to death; moreover, that I 
 might mend my broken fortunes through the help of my uncle, a very rich 
 man as he had heard, to whom he would write a letter about me. 
   
 Thus this matter was settled. 
   
 Still some days went by before I left Hastings, since first I must wait 
 until the ashes of our house were cool enough to search in them for my 
 mother's body. Those who found her at length said that she was not so 
 much burned as might have been expected, but as to this I am uncertain, 
 since I could not bring myself to look upon her who desired to remember 
 her as she had been in life. She was buried by the side of my father, 
 who was drowned, in the churchyard of St. Clement's, and when all had 
 gone away I wept a little on her grave. 
   
 The rest of that day I spent making ready for my journey. As it chanced 
 when the house was burnt the outbuildings which lay on the farther side 
 of the yard behind escaped the fire, and in the stable were two good 
 horses, one a grey riding-gelding and the other a mare that used to drag 
 the nets to the quay and bring back the fish, which horses, although 
 frightened and alarmed, were unharmed. Also there was a quantity of 
 stores, nets, salt, dried fish in barrels, and I know not what besides. 
 The horses I kept, but all the rest of the gear, together with the 
 premises, the ground on which the house had stood, and the other 
 property I made over to William, my man, who promised me to pay me their 
 value when he could earn it in better times. 
   
 Next morning I rode away for London upon the grey horse, loading the 
 armour of the knight I had killed and such other possessions as remained 
 to me upon the mare which I led with a rope. Save William there was none 
 to say me good-bye, for the misery in Hastings was so great that all 
 were concerned with their own affairs or in mourning their dead. I 
 was not sorry that it fell out thus, since I was so full of sadness at 
 leaving the place where I was born and had lived all my life, that I 
 think I should have shed tears if any who had been my friends had spoken 
 kind words to me, which would have been unmanly. Never had I felt 
 so lonely as when from the high ground I gazed back to the ruins of 
 Hastings over which still hung a thin pall of smoke. My courage seemed 
 to fail me altogether; I looked forward to the future with fear, 
 believing that I had been born unlucky, that it held no good for me 
 who probably should end my days as a common soldier or a fisherman, or 
 mayhap in prison or on the gallows. From childhood I had suffered these 
 fits of gloom, but as yet this was the blackest of them that I had 
 known. 
   
 At length, the sun that had been hidden shone out and with its coming my 
 temper changed. I remembered that I who might so easily have been dead, 
 was sound, young, and healthy, that I had sword, bow, and armour of the 
 best, also twenty or more of gold pieces, for I had not counted them, in 
 the bag which my mother gave me with Wave-Flame. Further, I hoped that 
 my uncle would befriend me, and if he did not, there were plenty of 
 captains engaged in the wars who might be glad of a squire, one who 
 could shoot against any man and handle a sword as well as most. 
   
 So putting up a prayer to St. Hubert after my simple fashion, I pushed 
 on blithely to the crest of a long rise and there came face to face with 
 a gay company who, hawk on wrist and hound at heel, were, I guessed, 
 on their way to hunt in the Pevensey marshes. While they were still a 
 little way off I knew these to be no other than Sir Robert Aleys, his 
 daughter Blanche, and the King's favourite, young Lord Deleroy, with 
 their servants, and was minded to turn aside to avoid them. Then I 
 remembered that I had as much right to the King's Highway as they, and 
 my pride aiding me, determined to ride on taking no note of them, unless 
 first they took note of me. Also they knew me, for my ears being very 
 sharp, I heard Sir Robert say in his big voice: 
   
 "Here comes that young fisherman again. Pass him in silence, Daughter"; 
 heard, too, Lord Deleroy drawl it, "It seems that he has been gathering 
 gear from the slain, and like a good chapman bears it away for secret 
 sale." 
   
 Only the lady Blanche answered neither the one nor the other, but rode 
 forward with her eyes fixed before her, pretending to talk to the hawk 
 upon her wrist, and now that she was rested and at ease, looking even 
 more beautiful than she had done on the day of the burning. 
   
 So we met and passed, I glancing at them idly and guiding my horses to 
 the side of the road. When there were perhaps ten yards between us I 
 heard Lady Blanche cry: 
   
 "Oh, my hawk!" I looked round to see that the falcon on her wrist had in 
 some way loosed itself, or been loosed, and being hooded, had fallen to 
 the ground where one of the dogs was trying to catch and kill it. Now 
 there was great confusion, the eyes of all being fixed upon the hawk and 
 the dog, in the midst of which the lady Blanche very quietly turned her 
 head, and lifting her hand as though to see how the hawk had fallen from 
 it, with a swift movement laid her fingers against her lips and threw a 
 kiss to me. 
   
 As swiftly I bowed back and went on my way with a beating heart. For a 
 few moments I was filled with joy, since I could not mistake the meaning 
 of this signalled kiss. Then came sorrow like an April cloud, since my 
 wound which was in the way of healing was all re-opened. I had begun to 
 forget the lady Blanche, or rather by an effort of the will, to thrust 
 her from my thought, as my confessor had bidden me. But now on the wings 
 of that blown kiss thither she had flown back again, not to be frighted 
 out for many a day. 
   
 That night I slept at an inn at Tonbridge, a comfortable place where the 
 host stared at the gold piece from the bag which I tendered in payment, 
 and at first would not take what was due to him out of it, because it 
 bore the head of some ancient king. However, in the end a merchant of 
 Tonbridge who came in for his morning ale showed him that it was good, 
 so that trouble passed. 
   
 About two in the afternoon I came to Southwark, a town that to me seemed 
 as big as Hastings before it was burned, where was a fine inn called the 
 Tabard at which I stopped to bait my horses and to take a bite and drink 
 of ale. Then I rode on over the great Thames where floated a multitude 
 of ships and boats, crossing it by London Bridge, a work so wonderful 
 that I marvelled that it could be made by the hand of man, and so broad 
 that it had shops on either side of the roadway, in which were sold all 
 sorts of merchandise. Thence I inquired my way to Cheapside, and came 
 there at last thrusting a path through a roaring multitude of people, 
 or so it seemed to me who never before had seen so many men and women 
 gathered together, all going on their way and, it would appear, ignorant 
 of each other. 
   
 Here I found a long and crowded thoroughfare with gabled houses on 
 either side in which all kinds of trades were carried on. Down this I 
 wandered, being cursed at more than once because my pack mare, growing 
 frightened, dragged away from me and crossed the path of carts which had 
 to stop till I could pull her free. After the third of these tangles I 
 halted by the side of the footway behind a wain with barrels on it, and 
 looked about me bewildered. 
   
 To my left was a house somewhat set back from the general line that 
 had a little patch of garden ground in front of it in which grew some 
 untended and thriftless-looking shrubs. This house seemed to be a place 
 of business because from an iron fastened to the front of it hung a 
 board on which was painted an open boat, high at the prow and stern, 
 with a tall beak fashioned to the likeness of a dragon's head and round 
 shields all down the rail. 
   
 While I was staring at this sign and wondering emptily what kind of a 
 boat it was and of what nation were the folk who had sailed in her, a 
 man came down the garden path and leaned upon the gate, staring in turn 
 at me. He was old and strange-looking, being clad in a rusty gown with 
 a hood to it that was pulled over his head, so that I could only see a 
 white, peaked beard and a pair of brilliant black eyes which seemed to 
 pierce me as a shoemaker's awl pierces leather. 
   
 "What do you, young man," he asked in a high thin voice, "cumbering my 
 gate with those nags of yours? Would you sell that mail you have on the 
 pack-horse? If so I do not deal in such stuff, though it seems good of 
 its kind. So get on with it elsewhere." 
   
 "Nay, sir," I answered, "I have naught to sell who in this hive of 
 traders seek one bee and cannot find him." 
   
 "Hive of traders! Truly the great merchants of the Cheap would be 
 honoured. Have they stung you, then, already, young bumpkin from the 
 countryside, for such I write you down? But what bee do you seek? Stay, 
 now, let me guess. Is it a certain old knave named John Grimmer, who 
 trades in gold and jewels and other precious things and who, if he had 
 his deserts, should be jail?" 
   
 "Aye, aye, that's the man," I said. 
   
 "Surely he also will be honoured," exclaimed the old fellow with a 
 cackle. "He's a friend of mine and I will tell him the jest." 
   
 "If you would tell me where to find him it would be more seasonable." 
   
 "All in good time. But first, young sir, where did you get that fine 
 armour? If you stole it, it should be better hid." 
   
 "Stole it!" I began in wrath. "Am I a London chapman----?" 
   
 "I think not, though you may be before all is done, for who knows what 
 vile tricks Fortune will play us? Well, if you did not steal it, mayhap 
 you slew the wearer and are a murderer, for I see black blood on the 
 steel." 
   
 "Murderer!" I gasped. 
   
 "Aye, just as you say John Grimmer is a knave. But if not, then 
 perchance you slew the French knight who wore it on Hastings Hill, ere 
 you loosed the three arrows at the mouth of the cave near Minnes Rock." 
   
 Now I gaped at him. 
   
 "Shut your mouth, young man, lest those teeth of yours should fall 
 out. You wonder how I know? Well, my friend John Grimmer, the goldsmith 
 knave, has a magic crystal which he purchased from one who brought it 
 from the East, and I saw it in that crystal." 
   
 As he spoke, as though by chance he pushed back the hood that covered 
 his head, revealing a wrinkled old face with a mocking mouth which 
 drooped at one corner, a mouth that I knew again, although many years 
 had passed since I looked upon it as a boy. 
   
 "You are John Grimmer!" I muttered. 
   
 "Yes, Hubert of Hastings, I am that knave himself. And now tell me, what 
 did you do with the gold piece I gave you some twelve summers gone?" 
   
 Then I was minded to lie, for I feared this old man. But thinking better 
 of it, I answered that I had spent it on a dog. He laughed outright and 
 said: 
   
 "Pray that it is not an omen and that you may not follow the gold 
 piece to the dogs. Well, I like you for speaking the truth when you 
 are tempted to do otherwise. Will you be pleased to shelter for a while 
 beneath the roof of John Grimmer, the merchant knave?" 
   
 "You mock me, sir," I stammered. 
   
 "Perhaps, perhaps! But there's many a true word spoken in jest; for 
 if you do not know it now you will learn it afterwards that we are all 
 knaves, each in his own fashion, who if we do not deceive others, 
 at least deceive ourselves, and I perhaps more than most. Vanity of 
 vanities! All is vanity." 
   
 Then, waiting for no reply, he drew a silver whistle from under his 
 dusty robe and blew it, whereon--so swiftly that I marvelled whether he 
 were waiting--a stout-built serving man appeared to whom he said: 
   
 "Take these horses to the stable and treat them as though they were my 
 own. Unload the pack beast, and when it has been cleaned, set the mail 
 and the other gear upon it in the room that has been made ready for this 
 young master, Hubert of Hastings, my nephew." 
   
 Without a word the man led off the horses. 
   
 "Be not afraid," chuckled John Grimmer, "for though I am a knave, dog 
 does not eat dog and what is yours is safe with me and those who 
 serve me. Now enter," and he led the way into the house, opening the 
 iron-studded oak door with a key from his pouch. 
   
 Within was a shop where I saw precious things such as furs and gold 
 ornaments lying about. 
   
 "The crumbs to catch the birds, especially the ladybirds," he said with 
 a sweep of his hand, then took me through the shop into a passage 
 and thence to a room on the right. It was not a large room but more 
 wonderfully furnished than any I had ever seen. In the centre was a 
 table of black oak with cunningly carved legs, on which stood cups of 
 silver and a noble centre piece that seemed to be of gold. From the 
 ceiling, too, hung silver lamps that already had been lit, for the 
 evening was closing in, and gave a sweet smell. There was a hearth also 
 with what was rare, a chimney, upon which burned a little fire of logs, 
 while the walls were hung with tapestries and broidered silks. 
   
 Whilst I stared about me, my uncle took off his cloak beneath which he 
 was clothed in some rich but rather threadbare stuff, only retaining the 
 velvet skullcap that he wore. Then he bade me do the same, and when I 
 had laid my outer garment aside, looked me all over in the lamplight. 
   
 "A proper young man," he muttered to himself, "and I'd give all I have 
 to be his age and like him. I suppose those limbs and sinews of his came 
 from his father, for I was ever thin and spare, as was my father before 
 me. Nephew Hubert, I have heard all the tale of your dealings with the 
 Frenchmen, on whom be God's curse, at Hastings yonder; and I say that I 
 am proud of you, though whether I shall stay so is another matter. Come 
 hither." 
   
 I obeyed, and taking me by my curling hair with his delicate hand, he 
 drew down my head and kissed me on the brow, muttering, "Neither chick 
 nor child for me and only this one left of the ancient blood. May he do 
 it honour." 
   
 Then he motioned to me to be seated and rang a little silver bell that 
 stood upon the table. As in the case of the man without, it was answered 
 instantly from which I judged that Master Grimmer was well served. 
 Before the echoes of the bell died away a door opened, the tapestry 
 swung aside, and there appeared two most comely serving maids, tall and 
 well-shaped both of them, bearing food. 
   
 "Pretty women, Nephew, no wonder that you look at them," he said when 
 they had gone away to fetch other things, "such as I like to have about 
 me although I am old. Women for within and men for without, that is 
 Nature's law, and ill will be the day when it is changed. Yet beware of 
 pretty women, Nephew, and I pray you kiss not those as you did the lady 
 Blanche Aleys at Hastings, lest it should upset my household and turn 
 servants into mistresses." 
   
 I made no answer, being confounded by the knowledge that my uncle showed 
 of me and my affairs, which afterwards I discovered he had, in part at 
 any rate, from the old priest, my confessor, who had written to 
 commend me to him, telling my story and sending the letter by a King's 
 messenger, who left for London on the morrow of the Burning. Nor did he 
 wait for any, for he bade me sit down and eat, plying me with more meats 
 than I could swallow, all most delicately dressed, also with rare wines 
 such as I had never tasted, which he took from a cupboard where they 
 were kept in curious flasks of glass. Yet as I noted, himself he ate but 
 little, only picking at the breast of a fowl and drinking but the half 
 of a small silver goblet filled with wine. 
   
 "Appetite, like all other good things, for the young," he said with a 
 sigh as he watched my hearty feasting. "Yet remember, Nephew, that if 
 you live to reach it, a day will come when yours will be as mine is. 
 Vanity of vanities, saith the preacher, all is vanity!" 
   
 At length, when I could eat no more, again he rang the silver bell and 
 those fair waiting girls dressed alike in green appeared and cleared 
 away the broken meats. After they were gone he crouched over the fire 
 rubbing his thin hands to warm them, and said suddenly: 
   
 "Now tell me of my sister's death and all the rest of your tale." 
   
 So as well as I was able I told him everything from the hour when I had 
 first sighted the French fleet on board my fishing-boat to the end. 
   
 "You are no fool," he said when I had finished, "who can talk like any 
 clerk and bring things that have happened clearly to the listener's eye, 
 which I have noted few are able to do. So that's the story. Well, your 
 mother had a great heart, and she made a great end, such an one as was 
 loved of our northern race, and that even I, the old merchant knave, 
 desire and shall not win, who doubtless am doomed to die a cow's death 
 in the straw. Pray the All-Father Odin--nay, that is heresy for which 
 I might burn if you or the wenches told it to the priests--pray God, I 
 mean, that He may grant you a better, as He did to old Thorgrimmer, 
 if the tale be true, Thorgrimmer whose sword you wear and have wielded 
 shrewdly, as that French knight knows in hell to-day." 
   
 "Who was Odin?" I asked. 
   
 "The great god of the North. Did not your mother tell you of him? Nay, 
 doubtless she was too good a Christian. Yet he lives on, Nephew. I say 
 that Odin lives in the blood of every fighting man, as Freya lives in 
 the heart of every lad and girl who loves. The gods change their names, 
 but hush! hush! talk not of Odin and of Freya, for I say that it is 
 heresy, or pagan, which is worse. What would you do now? Why came you to 
 London?" 
   
 "Because my mother bade me and to seek my fortune." 
   
 "Fortune--what is fortune? Youth and health are the best fortune, 
 though, if they know how to use it, those who have wealth as well may go 
 further than the rest. Also beauteous things are pleasant to the sight 
 and there is joy in gathering them. Yet at the last they mean nothing, 
 for naked we came out of the blackness and naked we return there. Vanity 
 of vanities, all is vanity!" 
   
   
   
 CHAPTER IV 
   
 KARI 
   
 Thus began my life in London in the house of my uncle, John Grimmer, 
 who was called the Goldsmith. In truth, however, he was more than this, 
 since not only did he fashion and trade in costly things; he lent out 
 moneys to interest upon security to great people who needed it, and 
 even to the king Richard and his Court. Also he owned ships and did much 
 commerce with Holland, France, yes, and with Spain and Italy. Indeed, 
 although he appeared so humble, his wealth was very large and always 
 increased, like a snowball rolling down a hill; moreover, he owned much 
 land, especially in the neighbourhood of London where it was likely to 
 grow in value. 
   
 "Money melts," he would say, "furs corrupt with moth and time, and 
 thieves break in and steal. But land--if the title be good--remains. 
 Therefore buy land, which none can carry away, near to a market or a 
 growing town if may be, and hire it out to fools to farm, or sell it 
 to other fools who wish to build great houses and spend their goods in 
 feeding a multitude of idle servants. Houses eat, Hubert, and the larger 
 they are, the more they eat." 
   
 No word did he say to me as to my dwelling on with him, yet there I 
 remained, by common consent, as it were. Indeed on the morrow of my 
 coming a tailor appeared to measure me for such garments as he thought 
 I should wear, by his command, I suppose, as I was never asked for 
 payment, and he bade me furnish my chamber to my own liking, also 
 another room at the back of the house that was much larger than it 
 seemed, which he told me was to be mine to work in, though at what I was 
 to work he did not say. 
   
 For a day or two I remained idle, staring at the sights of London 
 and only meeting my uncle at meals which sometimes we ate alone and 
 sometimes in the company of sea-captains and learned clerks or of other 
 merchants, all of whom treated him with great deference and as I soon 
 guessed, were in truth his servants. At night, however, we were always 
 alone and then he would pour out his wisdom on me while I listened, 
 saying little. On the sixth day, growing weary of this idleness, I made 
 bold to ask him if there was aught that I could do. 
   
 "Aye, plenty if you have a mind to work," he answered. "Sit down now, 
 and take pen and paper and write what I shall tell you." 
   
 Then he dictated a short letter to me as to shipping wine from Spain, 
 and when it was sanded, read it carefully. 
   
 "You have it right," he said, seeming pleased, "and your script is 
 clear if boyish. They taught you none so ill yonder at Hastings where 
 I thought you had only learned to handle ropes and arrows. Work? Yes, 
 there is plenty of it of the more private sort which I do not give to 
 this scribe or to that who might betray my secrets. For know," he went 
 on in a stern voice, "there is one thing which I never pardon, and it is 
 betrayal. Remember that, nephew Hubert, even in the arms of your loves, 
 if you should be fool enough to seek them, or in your cups." 
   
 So he talked on, and while he did so went to an iron chest that he 
 unlocked, and thence drew out a parchment roll which he bade me take to 
 my workroom and copy there. I did so, and found that it was an inventory 
 of his goods and estates, and oh! before I had done I wished that there 
 were fewer of them. All the long day I laboured, only stopping for a 
 bite at noon, till my head swam and my fingers ached. Yet as I did so 
 I felt proud, for I guessed that my uncle had set me this task for two 
 reasons: first, to show his trust in me, and, secondly, to acquaint 
 me with the state of his possessions, but as it were in the way of 
 business. By nightfall I had finished and checked the copy which with 
 the original I hid in my robe when the green-robed waiting maid summoned 
 me to eat. 
   
 At our meal my uncle asked me what I had seen that day and I 
 replied--naught but figures and crabbed writing--and handed him the 
 parchments which he compared item by item. 
   
 "I am pleased with you," he said at last, "for heresofar I find but a 
 single error and that is my fault, not yours; also you have done two 
 days' work in one. Still, it is not fit that you who are accustomed 
 to the open air should bend continually over deeds and inventories. 
 Therefore, to-morrow I shall have another task for you, for like 
 yourself your horse needs exercise." 
   
 And so he had, for with two stout servants riding with me and guiding 
 me, he sent me out of London to view a fair estate of his upon the 
 borders of the Thames and to visit his tenants there and make report of 
 their husbandry, also of certain woods where he proposed to fell oak for 
 shipbuilding. This I did, for the servants made me known to the tenants, 
 and got back at night-fall, able to tell him all which he was glad to 
 learn, since it seemed that he had not seen this estate for five long 
 years. 
   
 On another day he sent me to visit ships in which goods of his were 
 being laden at the wharf, and on another took me with him to a sale of 
 furs that came from the far north where I was told the snow never melts 
 and there is always ice in the sea. 
   
 Also he made me known to merchants with whom he traded, and to his 
 agents who were many, though for the most part secret, together with 
 other goldsmiths who held moneys of his, and in a sense were partners, 
 forming a kind of company so that they could find great sums in sudden 
 need. Lastly, his clerks and dependents were made to understand that if 
 I gave an order it must be obeyed, though this did not happen until I 
 had been with him for some time. 
   
 Thus it came about that within a year I knew all the threads of John 
 Grimmer's great business, and within two it drifted more and more into 
 my hands. The last part of it with which he made me acquainted was that 
 of lending money to those in high places, and even to the State itself, 
 but at length I was taught this also and came to know sundry of these 
 men, who in private were humble borrowers, but if they met us in the 
 street passed us with the nod that the great give to their inferiors. 
 Then my uncle would bow low, keeping his eyes fixed upon the ground and 
 bid me do the same. But when they were out of hearing he would chuckle 
 and say, 
   
 "Fish in my net, goldfish in my net! See how they shine who presently 
 must wriggle on the shore. Vanity of vanities! All is vanity, and 
 doubtless Solomon knew such in his day." 
   
 Hard I worked, and ever harder, toiling at the mill of all these large 
 affairs and keeping myself in health during such time as I could spare 
 by shooting at the butts with my big bow where I found that none could 
 beat me, or practising sword play in a school of arms that was kept by 
 a master of the craft from Italy. Also on holidays and on Sundays after 
 mass I rode out of London to visit my uncle's estates where sometimes I 
 slept a night, and once or twice sailed to Holland or to Calais with his 
 cargoes. 
   
 One day, it was when I had been with him about eighteen months, he said 
 to me suddenly. 
   
 "You plough the field, Hubert, and do not tithe the crop, but live upon 
 the bounty of the husbandman. Henceforward take as much of it as you 
 will. I ask no account." 
   
 So I found myself rich, though in truth I spent but little, both because 
 my tastes were simple and it was part of my uncle's policy to make no 
 show which he said would bring envy on us. From this time forward he 
 began to withdraw himself from business, the truth being that age took 
 hold of him and he grew feeble. The highest of the affairs he left to 
 me, only inquiring of them and giving his counsel from time to time. 
 Still, because he must do something, he busied himself in the shop 
 which, as he said, he kept as a trap for the birds, chaffering in 
 ornaments and furs as though his bread depended upon his earning a gold 
 piece, and directing the manufacture of beautiful jewels and cups which 
 he, who was an artist, designed to be made by his skilled and highly 
 paid workmen, some of whom were foreigners. 
   
 "We end where we began," he would say. "A smith was I from my 
 childhood and a smith I shall die. What a fate for one of the blood of 
 Thorgrimmer! Yet I am selling you into the same bondage, or so it would 
 seem. But who knows? Who knows? We design, but God decrees." 
   
 It is to be noted that when old men cease from the occupation of their 
 lives, often enough within a very little time they also cease from life 
 itself. So it was with my uncle. Day by day he faded till at last at 
 the beginning of the third winter after I came to him he took to his bed 
 where he lay growing ever weaker till at length he died in the hour of 
 the birth of the new year. 
   
 To the last his mind remained clear and strong, and never more so than 
 on the night of his death. That evening after I had eaten I went to his 
 room as usual and found him reading a beautiful manuscript of the book 
 of the Wisdom of Solomon that is called Ecclesiastes, a work which he 
 preferred to all others, since its thoughts were his. "I gathered me 
 also silver and gold and the peculiar treasures of kings," he read 
 aloud, whether to himself or to me I knew not, and went on, "So I was 
 great, and increased more than all that were before me. . . . Then I 
 looked on all the works that my hands had wrought, and on the labour 
 that I had laboured to do; and behold all was vanity and vexation of 
 spirit, and there was no profit under the sun." 
   
 He closed the book, saying, 
   
 "So shall you find, Nephew, you, and every man in the evil days of age 
 when you shall say, 'I have no pleasure in them.' Hubert, I am going to 
 my long home, nor do I grieve. In youth I met with sorrow, for though I 
 have never told you, I was married then and had one son, a bright boy, 
 and oh! I loved him and his mother. Then came the plague and took them 
 both. So having naught left and being by nature one of those who could 
 wean himself from women, which I fear that you are not, Hubert, noting 
 all the misery there is in the world and how those who are called noble 
 whom I hate, grind down the humble and the poor, I turned myself to good 
 works. Half of all my gains I have given and still give to those who 
 minister to poverty and sickness; you will find a list of them when I am 
 gone should you wish to continue the bounty, as to which I do not desire 
 to bind you in any way. For know, Hubert, that I have left you all that 
 is mine; the gold and the ships with the movables and chattels to 
 be your own, but the lands which are the main wealth, for life and 
 afterwards to be your children's, or if you should die childless, then 
 to go to certain hospitals where the sick are tended." 
   
 Now I would have thanked him, but he waved my words aside and went on: 
   
 "You will be a very rich man, Hubert, one of the richest in all London; 
 yet set not your heart on wealth, and above all do not ape nobility or 
 strive to climb from the honest class of which you come into the ranks 
 of those idle and dissolute cut-throats and pick-brains who are called 
 the great. Lighten their pockets if you will, but do not seek to wear 
 their silken, scented garments. That is my counsel to you." 
   
 He paused a while, picking at the bedclothes as the dying do, and 
 continued, 
   
 "You told me that your mother thought you would be a wanderer, and it 
 is strange that now my mind should be as hers was in this matter. For 
 I seem to see you far away amidst war and love and splendour, holding 
 Wave-Flame aloft as did that Thorgrimmer who begat us. Well, go where 
 you are called or as occasion drives, though you have much to keep you 
 at home. I would that you were wed, since marriage is an anchor that few 
 ships can drag. Yet I am not sure, for how know I whom you should wed, 
 and once that anchor is down no windlass will wind it up and death alone 
 can cut its chain. One word more. Though you are so young and strong 
 remember that as I am, so shall you be. To-day for me, to-morrow for 
 thee, said the wise old man, and thus it ever was and is. 
   
 "Hubert, I do not know why we are born to struggle and to suffer and at 
 last be noosed with the rope of Doom. Yet I hope the priests are right 
 and that we live again, though Solomon thought not so; that is, if we 
 live where there is neither sin nor sorrow nor fear of death. If so, be 
 sure that in some new land we shall meet afresh, and there I shall ask 
 account of you of the wealth I entrusted to your keeping. Think of me 
 kindly at times, for I have learned to love you who are of my blood, and 
 while we live on in the hearts of those we love, we are not truly dead. 
 Come hither that I may bless you in your coming in and going out while 
 you still look upon the sun." 
   
 So he blessed me in beautiful and tender words, and kissed me on the 
 brow, after which he bade me leave him and send the woman to watch him, 
 because he desired to sleep. 
   
 When she looked at him at midnight just as the bells rang in the new 
 year, he was dead. 
   
 According to his wish John Grimmer, the last of that name, was buried by 
 the bones of his forgotten wife and child, who had left the world over 
 fifty years before, in the chancel of that church in the Cheap which 
 was within a stone's throw of his dwelling house. By his desire also 
 the funeral was without pomp, yet many came to it, some of them of high 
 distinction, although the day was cold and snowy. I noted, moreover, the 
 deference they showed to me who by now was known to be his heir, even 
 if they had never spoken with me before, as was the case with certain 
 of them, taking occasion to draw me aside and say that they trusted that 
 their ancient friendship with my honoured uncle would be continued by 
 myself. 
   
 Afterwards I looked up their names in his private book and found that 
 one and all of those who had spoken thus owed moneys to his estate. 
   
 When the will was sworn and I found myself the master of many legions, 
 or rather of more money, land, and other wealth than I had ever dreamed 
 of, at first I was minded to be rid of trade and to take up my abode 
 upon one or other of my manors, where I might live in plenty for the 
 rest of my days. In the end, however, I did not do so, partly because 
 I shrank from new faces and surroundings, and partly because I was sure 
 that such would not have been my uncle's wish. 
   
 Instead I set myself to play and outpass his game. He had died very 
 rich; I determined that I would die five or ten times richer; the 
 richest man in England if I could, not because I cared for money, of 
 which indeed I spent but little upon myself, but because the getting 
 of it and the power that it brought, seemed to me the highest kind 
 of sport. So bending my mind to the matter I doubled and trebled his 
 enterprises on this line and on that, and won and won again, for even 
 where skill and foresight failed, Fortune stood my friend with a such 
 strange persistence that at length I became superstitious and grew 
 frightened of her gifts. Also I took pains to hide my great riches from 
 the public eye, placing much of them in the names of others whom I could 
 trust, and living most modestly in the same old house, lest I should 
 become a man envied by the hungry and marked for plunder by the 
 spendthrift great. 
   
   
   
 It was during the summer following my uncle's death that I went to the 
 wharves to see to the unloading of a ship that came in from Venice, 
 bearing many goods from the East on my account, such as ivory, silks, 
 spices, glass, carpets, and I know not what. Having finished my business 
 and seen these precious things warehoused, I handed over the checking of 
 a list of them to another and turned to seek my horse. 
   
 Then it was that I saw a number of half-grown lads and other idlers 
 mobbing a man who stood among them wrapped in a robe of what looked like 
 tattered sheepskin, yet was not because the wool on it was of a reddish 
 hue and very long and soft, which robe was thrown over his head hiding 
 his face. At this man--a tall figure who stood there patiently like 
 a martyr at the stake--these lewd fellows were hurling offal, such as 
 fishes' heads and rotted fruits that lay in plenty on the quay, together 
 with coarse words. "Blackamoor" was one I caught. 
   
 Such sights were common enough, but there was a quiet dignity of 
 bearing about this victim which moved me, so that I went to the rabble 
 commanding them to desist. One of them, a rough bumpkin, not knowing 
 who I was, pushed me aside, bidding me mind my own business, whereupon, 
 being very strong, I dealt him such a blow between the eyes that he 
 went down like a felled ox and lay there half stunned. His companions 
 beginning to threaten me, I blew upon my whistle, whereon two of my 
 serving-men, without whom I seldom rode in those troublous times, ran 
 up from behind a shed, laying hands upon their short swords, on seeing 
 which the idlers took to their heels. 
   
 When they had gone I turned to look at the stranger, whose hood had 
 fallen back in the hustling, and saw that he was about thirty years of 
 age, and of a dark and noble countenance, beardless, but with straight 
 black hair, black flashing eyes, and an aquiline nose. Another thing 
 I noted about him was that the lobe of his ear was pierced and in a 
 strange fashion, since the gristle was stretched to such a size that 
 a small apple could have been placed within its ring. For the rest the 
 man's limbs were so thin as though from hunger, that everywhere his 
 bones showed, while his skin was scarred with cuts and scratches, and 
 on his forehead was a large bruise. He seemed bewildered also and very 
 weak, yet I think he understood that I was playing a friend's part to 
 him, for he bowed towards me in a stately, courteous way and kissed the 
 air thrice, but what this meant at the time I did not know. 
   
 I spoke to him in English, but he shook his head gently to show that he 
 did not understand. Then, as though by an afterthought, he touched his 
 breast several times, and after each touch, said in a voice of strange 
 softness, "Kari," which I took it he meant was his name. At any rate, 
 from that time forward I called him Kari. 
   
 Now the question was how to deal with him. Leave him there to be mocked 
 or to perish I could not, nor was there anywhere whither I could send 
 him. Therefore it seemed the only thing to do was to take him home with 
 me. So grasping his arm gently I led him off the quay where our horses 
 were and motioned to him to mount one that had been ridden by a servant 
 whom I bade to walk. At the sight of these horses, however, a great 
 terror took hold of him for he trembled all over, a sweat bursting 
 out upon his face, and clung to me as though for protection, making it 
 evident that he had never seen such an animal before. Indeed, nothing 
 would persuade him to go near them, for he shook his head and pointed 
 to his feet, thus showing me that he preferred to walk, however weak his 
 state. 
   
 The end of it was that walk he did and I with him from Thames side to 
 the Cheap, since I dared not leave him alone for fear lest he should 
 run away. A strange sight we presented, I leading this dusky wanderer 
 through the streets, and glad was I that night was falling so that few 
 saw us and those who did thought, I believe, that I was bringing some 
 foreign thief to jail. 
   
 At length we reached the Boat House as my dwelling was called, from the 
 image of the old Viking vessel that my uncle had carved and set above 
 the door, and I led him in staring about him with all his eyes, which in 
 his thin face looked large as those of an owl, taking him up the stairs, 
 which seemed to puzzle him much, for at every step he lifted his leg 
 high into the air, to an empty guest room. 
   
 Here besides the bed and other furniture was a silver basin with its 
 jug, one of the beautiful things that John Grimmer had brought I know 
 not whence. On these Kari fixed his eyes at once, staring at them in 
 the light of the candles that I had lit, as though they were familiar to 
 him. Indeed, after glancing at me as though for permission, he went to 
 the jug that was kept full of water in case of visitors of whom I had 
 many on business, lifted it, and after pouring a few drops of the water 
 on to the floor as though he made some offering, drank deeply, thus 
 showing that he was parched with thirst. 
   
 Then without more ado he filled the basin and throwing off his tattered 
 robe began to wash himself to the waist, round which he wore another 
 garment, of dirty cotton I thought, which looked like a woman's 
 petticoat. Watching him I noted two things, that his poor body was as 
 scratched and scarred as though by old thorn wounds, as were his face 
 and hands, also marked with great bruises as though from kicks and 
 blows, and secondly that hung about his neck was a wondrous golden image 
 about four inches in length. It was of rude workmanship with knees bent 
 up under the chin, but the face, in which little emeralds were set for 
 eyes, was of a great and solemn dignity. 
   
 This image Kari washed before he touched himself with water, bowing to 
 it the while, and when he saw me observing him, looked upwards to the 
 sky and said a word that sounded like _Pachacamac_, from which I took 
 it to be some idol that the poor man worshipped. Lastly, tied about his 
 middle was a hide bag filled with I knew not what. 
   
 Now I found a washball made of oil of olives mixed with beech ash and 
 showed him the use of it. At first he shrank from this strange thing, 
 but coming to understand its office, served himself of it readily, 
 smiling when he saw how well it cleansed his flesh. Further, I fetched 
 a shirt of silk with a pair of easy shoes and a fur-lined robe that had 
 belonged to my uncle, also hosen, and showed him how to put them on, 
 which he learned quickly enough. A comb and a brush that were on the 
 table he seemed to understand already, for with them he dressed his 
 tangled hair. 
   
 When all was finished in a fashion, I led him down the stairs again to 
 the eating-room where supper was waiting, and offered him food, at 
 the sight of which his eyes glistened, for clearly he was well-nigh 
 starving. The chair I gave him he would not sit on, whether from respect 
 for me or because it was strange to him, I do not know, but seeing a low 
 stool of tapestry which my uncle had used to rest his feet, he crouched 
 upon this, and thus ate of whatever I gave him, very delicately though 
 he was so hungry. Then I poured wine from Portugal into a goblet and 
 drank some myself to show him that it was harmless, which, after tasting 
 it, he swallowed to the last drop. 
   
 The meal being finished which I thought it was well to shorten lest 
 he should eat too much who was so weak, again he lifted up his eyes as 
 though in gratitude, and as a sign of thankfulness, or so I suppose, 
 knelt before me, took my hand, and pressed it against his forehead, 
 thereby, although I did not know it at the time, vowing himself to 
 my service. Then seeing how weary he was I conducted him back to the 
 chamber and pointed out the bed to him, shutting my eyes to show that 
 he should sleep there. But this he would not do until he had dragged the 
 bedding on to the floor, from which I gathered that his people, whoever 
 they might be, had the habit of sleeping on the ground. 
   
 
 
 
 Greatly did I wonder who this man was and from what race he sprang, 
 since never had I seen any human being who resembled him at all. Of one 
 thing only was I certain, namely, that his rank was high, since no noble 
 of the countries that I knew had a bearing so gentle or manners so fine. 
 Of black men I had seen several, who were called negroes, and others of 
 a higher sort called Moors; gross, vulgar fellows for the most part and 
 cut-throats if in an ill-humour, but never a one of them like this Kari. 
   
 It was long before my curiosity was satisfied, and even then I did not 
 gather much. By slow degrees Kari learned English, or something of it, 
 though never enough to talk fluently in that tongue into which he always 
 seemed to translate in his mind from another full of strange figures of 
 thought and speech. When after many months he had mastered sufficient of 
 our language, I asked him to tell me his story which he tried to do. All 
 I could make of it, however, came to this. 
   
 He was, he said, the son of a king who ruled over a mighty empire far 
 far away, across thousands of miles of sea towards that part of the sky 
 where the sun sank. He declared that he was the eldest lawful son, born 
 of the King's sister, which seemed dreadful to my ideas though perhaps 
 he meant cousin or relative, but that there were scores of other 
 children of his father, which, if true, showed that this king must be 
 a very loose-living man who resembled in his domesticities the wise 
 Solomon of whom my uncle was so fond. 
   
 It appeared, further, according to the tale, that this king, his father, 
 had another son born of a different mother, and that of this son he was 
 fonder than of my guest, Kari. His name was Urco, and he was jealous 
 of and hated Kari the lawful heir. Moreover, as is common, a woman came 
 into the business, since Kari had a wife, the loveliest lady in all the 
 land, though as I understood, not of the same tribe or blood as himself, 
 and with this wife of his Urco fell in love. So greatly did he desire 
 her, although he had plenty of wives of his own, that being the general 
 of the King's troops, he sent Kari, with the consent of their father, to 
 command an army that was to fight a distant savage nation, hoping 
 that he would be killed, much as David did in the matter of Uriah 
 and Bathsheba, of whom the Bible tells the story. But as it happened, 
 instead of being killed like Uriah, Kari conquered the distant nation, 
 and after two years returned to the King's court, where he found that 
 his brother Urco had led astray his wife whom he had taken into his 
 household. Being very angry, Kari recovered his wife by command of the 
 King, and put her to death because of her faithlessness. 
   
 Thereon the King, his father, a stern man, ordered him into banishment 
 because he had broken the laws of the land, which did not permit of 
 private vengeance over a matter of a woman who was not even of the royal 
 blood, however fair she might be. Before he went, however, Urco, who was 
 mad at the loss of his love, caused some kind of poison to be given to 
 Kari, which although it does not kill, for he dared not kill him because 
 of his station, deprives him who takes it of his reason, sometimes 
 for ever and sometimes for a year or more. After this, said Kari, he 
 remembered little or nothing, save long travellings in boats and through 
 forests, and then again upon a raft or boat on which he was driven 
 alone, for many, many days, drinking a jar of water which he had with 
 him, and eating some dried flesh and with it a marvellous drug of his 
 people, some of which remained to him in the leathern bag that has power 
 to keep the life in a man for weeks, even if he is labouring hard. 
   
 At last, he declared, he was picked up by a great ship such as he had 
 never seen before, though of this ship he recalled little. Indeed he 
 remembered nothing more until he found himself upon the quay where I 
 discovered him, and of a sudden his mind seemed to return but he said 
 he believed that he had come ashore in a boat in which were fishermen, 
 having been thrown into it by the people on the ship which went on 
 elsewhere, and that he had walked up the shores of a river. This story 
 the bruises on his forehead and body seemed to bear out, but it was far 
 from clear, and by the time I learned it months afterwards of course no 
 traces of the fishermen or their boat could be found. I asked him the 
 name of the country from which he came. He answered that it was called 
 _Tavantinsuyu_. He added that it was a wonderful country in which were 
 cities and churches and great snow-clad mountains and fertile valleys 
 and high plains and hot forests through which ran wide rivers. 
   
 From all the learned men whom I could meet, especially those who 
 had travelled far, I made inquiries concerning this country called 
 Tavantinsuyu, but none of them had so much as heard its name. Indeed, 
 they declared that my brown man must have come from Africa, and that his 
 mind being disordered, he had invented this wondrous land which he said 
 lay far away to the west where the sun sank. 
   
 So there I must leave this matter, though for my part I was sure that 
 Kari was not mad, whatever he might have been in the past. A great 
 dreamer he was, it is true, who declared that the poison which his 
 brother had given him had "eaten a hole in his mind" through which he 
 could see and hear things which others could not. Thus he was able to 
 read the secret motives of men and women with wonderful clearness, so 
 much so that sometimes I asked him, laughing, if he could not give me 
 some of that poison that I might see into the hearts of those with whom 
 I dealt. Of another thing, too, he was always certain, namely, that he 
 would return to his country Tavantinsuyu of which he thought day and 
 night, and that _I should accompany him_. At this I laughed again and 
 said that if so it would be after we were both dead. 
   
 By degrees he learned English quite well and even how to read and write 
 it, teaching me in return much of his own language which he called 
 _Quichua_, a soft and beautiful tongue, though he said that there were 
 also many others in his country, including one that was secret to the 
 King and his family, which he was not allowed to reveal although he knew 
 it. In time I mastered enough of this Quichua to be able to talk to Kari 
 in brief sentences of it when I did not wish others to understand what I 
 said. 
   
 To tell the truth, while I studied thus and listened to his marvellous 
 tales, a great desire arose in me to see this land of his and to open 
 up a trade with it, since there he declared gold was as plentiful as 
 was iron with us. I thought even of making a voyage of discovery to 
 the west, but when I spoke of it to certain sea-captains, even the most 
 venturesome mocked at me and said that they would wait for that journey 
 till they "went west" themselves, by which in their sea parlance that 
 they had learned in the Mediterranean, they meant until they died.[*] 
 When I told Kari this he smiled in his mysterious way and answered that 
 all the same, I and he should make that journey together and this before 
 we died, a thing that came about, indeed, though, not by my own will or 
 his. 
   
      [*] Of late there has been much dispute as to the origin of 
      the phrase "to go west," or in other words, to die. Surely 
      it arises from the custom of the Ancient Egyptians who, 
      after death, were ferried across the Nile and entombed upon 
      the western shore.--Ed. 
   
 For the rest when Kari saw my workmen fashioning gold and setting 
 jewels in it for sale to the nobles and ladies of the Court, he was much 
 interested and asked if he might be allowed to follow this craft, of 
 which he said he understood something, and thus earn the bread he ate. I 
 answered, yes, for I knew that it irked his proud nature to be dependent 
 on me, and gave him gold and silver with a little room having a furnace 
 in it where he could labour. The first thing he made was an object about 
 two inches across, round and with a groove at the back of it, on the 
 front of which he fashioned an image of the sun having a human face and 
 rays of light projecting all about. I asked him what was its purpose, 
 whereon he took the piece and thrust it into the lobe of his ear where 
 the gristle had been stretched in the fashion that I have described, 
 which it fitted exactly. Then he told me that in his country all 
 the nobles wore such ornaments and that those who did so were called 
 "ear-men" to distinguish them from the common people. Also he told me 
 many other things too long to set out, which made me desire more than 
 ever to see this empire with my eyes, for an empire and no less he 
 declared it to be. 
   
 Afterwards Kari made many such ornaments which I sold for brooches with 
 a pin set at the back of them. Also he shaped other things, for his 
 skill as a goldsmith was wonderful, such as cups and platters of strange 
 design and rich ornamentation which commanded a great price. But on 
 every one of them, in the centre or some other part of the embossment, 
 appeared this image of the sun. I asked him why. He answered because the 
 sun was his god and his people were Sun-worshippers. I reminded him that 
 he had said that a certain Pachacamac whose image he wore about his neck 
 was his god. To this he replied: 
   
 "Yes, Pachacamac is the god above gods, the Creator, the Spirit of the 
 World, but the Sun is his visible house and raiment that all may see 
 and worship," a saying that I thought had truth in it, seeing that all 
 Nature is the raiment of God. 
   
 I tried to instruct him in our faith, but although he listened patiently 
 and I think understood, he would not become a Christian, making it 
 very plain to me that he thought that a man should live and die in the 
 religion in which he was born and that from what he saw in London he did 
 not hold that Christians were any better than those who worshipped 
 the sun and the great spirit, Pachacamac. So I abandoned this attempt, 
 although there was danger to him while he remained a heathen. Indeed 
 twice or thrice the priests made inquiry concerning his faith, being 
 curious as to all that had to do with him. However, I silenced them by 
 pretending that I was instructing him as well as I was able and that as 
 yet he did not know enough English to hearken to their holy expositions. 
 Also when they became persistent I made gifts to the monasteries to 
 which they belonged, or if they were parish priests, then to their curés 
 or churches. 
   
 Still I was troubled about this matter, for some of these priests were 
 very fierce and intolerant, and I was sure that in time they would push 
 the business further. 
   
 One more thing I noticed about Kari, namely, that he shrank from women 
 and indeed seemed to hate them. The maids who had remained with me since 
 my uncle's death noticed this, by nature as it were, and in revenge 
 would not serve him. The end of it was that, fearing lest they should do 
 him some evil turn with the priests or otherwise, I sent them away and 
 hired men to take their place. This distaste of Kari for women I set 
 down to all that he had suffered at the hands of his false and beautiful 
 wife not wrongly as I think. 
   
   
   
 CHAPTER V 
   
 THE COMING OF BLANCHE 
   
 One day, it was the last of the year, the anniversary of the death of my 
 uncle whose goodness and wisdom I pondered on more and more as time went 
 by, having a little time to spare from larger affairs, I chanced to be 
 in the shop in the front of the house, which, as John Grimmer had said, 
 he kept as a trap to "snare the ladybirds," and I continued, because I 
 knew that he would not wish that anything should be changed. Here I was 
 pleasing myself by looking over such pieces as we had to sell which the 
 head craftsman was showing to me, since myself I knew little of them, 
 except as a matter of account. 
   
 Whilst I was thus engaged there entered the shop a very fine lady 
 accompanied by a still finer lordling arrayed so similarly that, at 
 first sight, in their hooded ermine cloaks it was difficult to know 
 which was man and which was woman. When they threw these aside, however, 
 for the shop was warm after the open air, I knew more than that, since 
 with a sudden stoppage of the heart I saw before me none other than the 
 lady Blanche Aleys and her relative, the lord Deleroy. 
   
 She, who in the old days of the Hastings burnings had been but a lily 
 bud, was now an open flower and beautiful exceedingly; indeed in her own 
 fashion the most beautiful woman that ever I beheld. Tall she was and 
 stately as a lily bloom, white as a lily also, save for those wondrous 
 blue eyes over which curled the dark lashes. In shape, too, she was 
 perfect, full-breasted, yet not too full, small-waisted, and with 
 delicate limbs, a very Venus, such an one as I had seen in ancient 
 marble brought in a ship from Italy and given, as I believe, to the 
 King, who loved such things, to be set up in his palace. 
   
 My lord also was yet handsomer than he had been, more set and manly, 
 though still he affected his coxcomb party-coloured dress with the 
 turned-up shoes of which the points were fastened by little golden 
 chains beneath the knee. Still he was a fine man with his roving black 
 eyes, his loose mouth and little pointed beard from which, as from his 
 hair, came an odour of scents. Seeing me in my merchant's gown, for I 
 remained mindful of my uncle's advice as regards attire, he spoke to me 
 as great men do to shop-keepers. 
   
 "Well met, Goldsmith," he said in his round, well-trained voice, "I 
 would make a new-year gift to the lady here, and I am told that you have 
 plate-wares of the best; gold cups and jewels of rich and rare design, 
 stamped all of them with the image of the sun which one would wish to 
 remember on such a day as this. But hearken, let John Grimmer himself 
 come to serve me for I would treat with no underlings, or take me to him 
 where he is." 
   
 Now I bowed before him, rubbing my hands, and answered, for so the 
 humour led me: "Then I fear that I must take my lord farther than my 
 lord would wish to travel just at present, though who knows? Perchance, 
 like the rest of us, he may take that journey sooner than he thinks." 
   
 Now at the sound of my voice I saw the lady Blanche stare at me, trying 
 to catch sight of my face beneath the hood which I wore on this cold 
 day, while Deleroy started and said briefly: 
   
 "Your meaning?" 
   
 "It is plain, my lord. John Grimmer is dead and I know not where 
 he dwells at present since he took that secret with him. But I, who 
 unworthily carry on his trade, am at your lordship's service." 
   
 Then I turned and bade the shopman command Kari to come hither and bring 
 with him the choicest of our cups and jewels. 
   
 He went and I busied myself in setting stools for these noble customers 
 to rest on before the fire. As I did so by chance my hand touched that 
 of the lady Blanche, whereat once more she strove to peer beneath my 
 hood. It was as though the nature in her knew that touch again, as by 
 some instinct every woman does, if once the toucher's lips have been 
 near her own, though it be long ago. But I only turned my head away and 
 drew that hood the closer. 
   
 Now Kari came and with him the shopman, bearing the precious wares. Kari 
 wore a wool-lined robe, very plain, which yet became him so well that 
 with his fine-cut face and flashing eyes he looked like an Eastern 
 prince disguised. At him this fine pair stared, for never had they seen 
 such a man, but taking no note, with many bows he showed the jewels one 
 by one. Among these was a gem of great value, a large, heart-shaped ruby 
 that Kari had set in a surround of twisted golden serpents with heads 
 raised to strike and little eyes of diamonds. Upon this brooch the lady 
 Blanche fixed her gaze and discarding all others, began to play with it, 
 till at length the lord Deleroy asked the price. I consulted with Kari, 
 explaining that myself I did not handle this branch of my business, then 
 named it carelessly; it was a great sum. 
   
 "God's truth! Blanche," said Deleroy, "this merchant thinks I am made of 
 gold. You must choose a cheaper ornament for your new year's gift, or he 
 will have to wait for payment." 
   
 "Which mayhap I should be willing to do from one of your quality, my 
 lord," I interrupted, bowing. 
   
 He looked at me and said: 
   
 "Can I have a word apart with you, merchant?" 
   
 Again I bowed and led him to the eating-room where he gazed about him, 
 amazed at the richness of the furnishings. He sat him down upon a carven 
 chair while I stood before him humbly and waited. 
   
 "I am told," he said at length, "that John Grimmer did other business 
 besides that of selling jewels." 
   
 "Yes, my lord, some foreign trade." 
   
 "And some home trade also. I mean that he lent money." 
   
 "At times, my lord, and on good security, if he chanced to have any at 
 command, and at a certain interest. Perhaps my lord will come to his 
 point." 
   
 "It is short and clear. Those of us who are at Court always want money 
 where it is needful if we would have advancement and earn the royal 
 favour of one who does not pay, at least in gold." 
   
 "Be pleased to state the amount and the security offered, my lord." 
   
 He did so. The sum was high and the security was bad. 
   
 "Are there any who would stand surety for my lord?" 
   
 "Yes, one of great estate, Sir Robert Aleys, who has wide lands in 
 Sussex." 
   
 "I have heard the name, and if my lord will bid his lawyers put the 
 matter in writing, I will cause the lands to be valued and give an 
 answer as quickly as may be." 
   
 "For a young man you are careful, merchant." 
   
 "Alas! such as I need to be who must guard our small earnings in these 
 troublous times of war and tumult. Such a sum as you speak of would take 
 all that John Grimmer and I have laid by after years of toil." 
   
 Again he looked at the furnishings of the room and shrugged his 
 shoulders, then said: 
   
 "Good, it shall be done for the need is urgent. To whom is the letter to 
 be sent?" 
   
 "To John Grimmer, at the Boat House, Cheapside." 
   
 "But you told me that John Grimmer was dead." 
   
 "And so he is, my lord, but his name remains." 
   
 Then we returned to the sop and as we went I said, 
   
 "If your lordship's lady should set her heart upon the ruby the cost of 
 it can stand over a while, since I know that it is hard for a husband to 
 disappoint a wife of what she desires." 
   
 "Man, she is my distant cousin, not my wife. I would she were, but how 
 can two high-placed paupers wed?" 
   
 "Perhaps it is for this reason that my lord wishes to borrow money." 
   
 Again he shrugged his shoulders, and as we entered the shop I threw back 
 the hood from off my head upon which I wore a merchant's cap of velvet. 
 The lady Blanche caught sight of me and started. 
   
 "Surely, surely," she began, "you are he who shot the three arrows at 
 the cave's mouth at Hastings." 
   
 "Yes, my lady, and did your hawk escape the dogs upon the London road?" 
   
 "Nay, it was crippled and died, which was the first of many troubles, 
 for I think my luck rode away with you that day, Master Hubert of 
 Hastings," she added with a sigh. 
   
 "There are other hawks and luck returns," I replied, bowing. "Perhaps 
 this trinket will bring it back to you, my lady," and taking the 
 snake-surrounded ruby heart, I proffered it to her with another bow. 
   
 "Oh!" she said, her blue eyes shining with pleasure, "oh! it is 
 beautiful, but whence is the price to come for so costly a thing?" 
   
 "I think the matter is one that can wait." 
   
 At that moment the lord Deleroy broke in, saying, 
   
 "So you are the man who slew the French knight with an ancient sword, 
 and afterwards shot three other Frenchmen with three shafts, sending 
 one of them through shield and mail and body, a tale that was spoken of 
 afterwards, even in London. God's truth! you should be serving the King 
 in the wars, not yourself behind the counter." 
   
 "There are many ways of serving, my lord," I answered, "by pen and 
 merchandise as well as by steel and shafts. Now with me it is the turn 
 of the former, though perhaps the ancient sword and the great black bow 
 wait till their time comes again." 
   
 He stared at me and muttered, half to himself: 
   
 "A strange merchant and a grim, as those dead Frenchmen may have 
 thought. I tell you, Sir Trader, that your talk and the eyes of that 
 tall Moor of yours turn my back cold; it is as though someone walked 
 over my grave. Come, Blanche, let us begone ere our horses be chilled as 
 I am. Master Grimmer, or Hastings, you shall hear from me, unless I can 
 do my business otherwise, and for the trinket send me a note at your 
 leisure." 
   
 Then they went, but as the lady Blanche left the shop she caught her 
 robe and turned to free it, while she did so flashing at me one of her 
 sweet looks such as I remembered well. 
   
 Kari followed to the door and watched them mount their horses at the 
 gate, then he searched the ground with his eyes. 
   
 "What was it hooked her cloak?" I asked. 
   
 "A dream, or the air, Master, for there is nothing else to which it 
 could have hung. Those who would throw spears behind them must first 
 turn round." 
   
 "What think you of those two, Kari?" 
   
 "I think that they will not pay for your jewel, but perhaps this was but 
 a bait upon the hook." 
   
 "And what more, Kari?" 
   
 "I think that the lady is very fair and false, and that the great lord's 
 heart is as black as are his eyes. Also I think that they are dear to 
 each other and well matched. But it seems that you have met them both 
 before, Master, so you will know better about them than your slave." 
   
 "Yes, I have met them," I answered sharply, for his words about Blanche 
 angered me, adding, "I have noted, Kari, that you have never a good word 
 for any one whom I favour. You are jealous-natured, Kari, especially of 
 women." 
   
 "You ask, I answer," he replied, falling into broken English, as was his 
 fashion when moved, "and it is true that those who have much love, are 
 much jealous. That is a fault in my people. Also I love not women. Now 
 I go make another piece for that which Master give the lady. Only this 
 time it all snake and no heart." 
   
 He went, taking the tray of jewels with him, and I, too, went to the 
 eating-room to think. 
   
 How strange was this meeting. I had never forgotten the lady Blanche, 
 but in a sense I had lived her memory down and mindful of my uncle's 
 counsel, had not sought to look upon her again, for which reason I kept 
 away from Hastings where I thought that I should find her. And now here 
 she was in London and in my house, brought thither by fate. Nor was that 
 all, since those blue eyes of hers had re-lighted the dead fires in my 
 heart and, seated there alone, I knew that I loved her; indeed had never 
 ceased to love her. She was more to me than all my wealth, more than 
 anything, and alas! between us there was still a great gulf fixed. 
   
 She was not wed, it was true, but she was a highly placed lady, and I 
 but a merchant who could not even call myself a squire, or by law wear 
 garments made of certain stuffs which I handled daily in my trade. How 
 might that gulf be crossed? 
   
 Then as I mused there rose in my mind a memory of certain sayings of my 
 wise old uncle, and with it an answer to the question. Gold would bridge 
 the widest streams of human difference. These fine folk for all their 
 flauntings were poor. They came to me to borrow money wherewith to gild 
 their coronets and satisfy the importunate creditors at their door, lest 
 they should be pulled from their high place and forced back into the 
 number of the common herd as those who could no longer either give or 
 pay. 
   
 And after all, was this difference between them and me so wide? The 
 grandsire of Sir Robert Aleys, I had been told, gathered his wealth by 
 trade and usury in the old wars; indeed, it was said that he was one who 
 dealt in cattle, while Lord Deleroy was reported to be a bastard, if of 
 the bluest blood, so blue that it ran nigh to the royal purple. Well, 
 what was mine? On the father's side, Saxon descended from that of Thanes 
 who went down before the Normans and thereafter became humble landed 
 folk of the lesser sort. On the mother's, of the race of the old 
 sea-kings who slew and conquered through all the world they knew. Was I 
 then so far beneath these others? Nay, but like my father and my uncle I 
 was one who bought and sold and the hand of the dyer was stained to the 
 colour of his vat. 
   
 Thus stood the business. I, a stubborn man, not ill-favoured, to whom 
 Fortune had given wealth, was determined to win this woman who, it 
 seemed to me, looked upon me with no unkind eye since I had saved her 
 from certain perils. To myself then and there I swore I would win her. 
 The question was--how could it be done? I might enter the service of 
 the King and fight his battles and doubtless win myself a knighthood, or 
 more, which would open the closed gate. 
   
 Nay, it would take too long, and something warned me that time pressed. 
 That strange foreign man, Kari, said that Blanche was enamoured of this 
 Deleroy, and although I was wrath with him, setting his words down to 
 jealousy of any on whom I looked with kindness, I knew well that Kari 
 saw far. If I tarried, this rare white bird would slip from my hand into 
 another's cage. I must stir at once or let the matter be. Well, I had 
 wealth, so let wealth be my friend. Time enough to try war when it 
 failed me. 
   
   
   
 On the third day of the new year, which at this time of Court revelry 
 showed that the matter must indeed be pressing, I received those 
 particulars for which I had asked, together with a list of the lands and 
 tenements that Sir Robert Aleys was ready to put in pawn on behalf of 
 his friend and relative, the lord Deleroy. Why should he do this, I 
 wondered? There could only be one answer: because he and not Deleroy was 
 to receive the money, or most of it. 
   
 Nay, another came into my mind as probable. Because he looked upon 
 Deleroy as his heir, which, should he marry the lady Blanche, he would 
 become. If this were so I must act, and quickly, that is, if I would 
 ever see more of the lady Blanche, as perchance I might do by treading 
 this gold-paved road, but not otherwise. I studied the list of lands. 
 As it chanced I knew most of them, for they lay about Pevensey and 
 Hastings, and saw that they were scarcely worth the moneys which were 
 asked of me. Well, what of it? This matter was not one of trade and 
 large as the sum might be, I would risk it for the chance of winning 
 Blanche. 
   
 The end of it was that waiting for no valuings I wrote that on proof of 
 title clean and unencumbered and completion of all deeds, I would pay 
 over the gold to whoever might be appointed to receive it. 
   
 This letter of mine proved to be but the beginning of a long business 
 whereof the details may be left untold. On the very next day indeed 
 I was summoned to the house of Sir Robert Aleys which was near to the 
 palace and abbey of Westminster. Here I found the gruff old knight grown 
 greyer and having, as it seemed to me, a hunted air, and with him the 
 lord Deleroy and two foxy lawyers of whom I did not like the look. 
 Indeed, for the first, I suspected that I was being tricked and had it 
 not been for the lady Blanche, would have broken off the loan. Because 
 of her, however, this I did not do, but having stated my terms anew, and 
 the rate and dates of interest, sat for a long while saying as little 
 as possible, while the others unfolded parchments and talked and talked, 
 telling tales that often contradicted each other, till at length the 
 lord Deleroy, who seemed ill at ease, grew weary and left the chamber. 
 At last all was done that could be done at that sitting and it being 
 past the hour of dinner, I was taken in to eat, consenting, because I 
 hoped that I should see the lady Blanche. 
   
 A butler, or chamber-groom, led me to the dining-hall and sat me with 
 the lawyers at a table beneath the dais. Presently on this dais appeared 
 Sir Robert Aleys, his daughter Blanche, the lord Deleroy, and perhaps 
 eight or ten other fine folk whom I had never seen. She, looking about 
 her, saw me seated at the lower table, and spoke to her father and 
 Deleroy, reasoning with the latter, as it would appear. Indeed, in 
 a sudden hush I caught some of her words. They were, "If you are not 
 ashamed to take his money, you should not be ashamed to sit at meat with 
 him." 
   
 Deleroy stamped his foot, but the end of it was that I was summoned 
 to the high table where the lady Blanche made place for me beside her, 
 while Deleroy sat himself down between two splendid dames at the other 
 end of the board. 
   
 Here, then, I stayed by Blanche who, I noted, wore the ruby heart 
 encircled by serpents. Indeed, this was the first thing of which she 
 spoke to me, saying, 
   
 "It looks well upon my robe, does it not, and I thank you for it, Master 
 Hubert, who know surely that it is not my cousin Deleroy's gift, but 
 yours, since for it you will never see your money." 
   
 By way of answer I looked at the sumptuous plate and furnishings, the 
 profusion of the viands, and the number of the serving-men. Reading my 
 thought, she replied, 
   
 "Aye, but pledged, all of it. I tell you, Master Hubert, that we are 
 starved hounds, though we live in a kennel with golden bars. And now 
 they would pawn you that kennel also." 
   
 Then, while I wondered what to say, she began to talk of our great 
 adventure in bygone years, recalling every tiny thing that had happened 
 and every word that had been spoken between us, some of which I had 
 forgotten. Of one thing only she said nothing--the kisses with which we 
 parted. Amongst much else, she spoke of how the ancient sword had shorn 
 through the armour of the French knight, and I told her that the sword 
 was named Wave-Flame and that it had come down to me from my ancestor, 
 Thorgrimmer the Viking, and of what was written on its blade, to all of 
 which she listened greedily. 
   
 "And they thought you not fit to sit at meat with them, you whose race 
 is so old and who are so great a warrior, as you showed that day. And 
 it is to you that I owe my life and more than life, to you and not to 
 them." 
   
 So saying she shot a glance at me that pierced me through and through, 
 as my arrows had pierced the Frenchmen, and what is more beneath the 
 cover of the board for a moment let her slim hand rest upon my own. 
   
 After this for a while we were silent, for indeed I could not speak. 
 Then we talked on as we could do well enough, since there was no one on 
 my left where the board ended, and on Blanche's right was a fat old 
 lord who seemed to be deaf and occupied himself in drinking more than he 
 should have done. I told her much about myself, also what my mother had 
 said to me on the day of the Burning, and of how she had prophesied that 
 I should be a wanderer, words at which Blanche sighed and answered: 
   
 "Yet you seem to be well planted in London and in rich soil, Master 
 Hubert." 
   
 "Aye, Lady, but it is not my native soil and for the rest we go where 
 Fate leads us." 
   
 "Fate! What does that word bring to my mind? I have it; yonder Moor of 
 yours who makes those jewels. He has the very eyes of Fate and I fear 
 him." 
   
 "That is strange, Lady, and yet not so strange, for about this man there 
 is something fateful. Ever he swears to me that I shall accompany him to 
 some dim land where he was born, of which land he is a prince." 
   
 Then I told her all the story of Kari, to which she listened open-eyed 
 and wondering, saying when I had finished, 
   
 "So you saved this poor wanderer also, and doubtless he loves you well." 
   
 "Yes, Lady, almost too well, seeing that at times he is jealous of me, 
 though God knows I did little for him save pick him from a crowd upon 
 the quay." 
   
 "Ah! I guess it, who saw him watching you the other day. Yet it is 
 strange, for I thought that only women could be jealous of men, and men 
 of women. Hush! they are mocking us because we talk so friendly." 
   
 I looked up, following her glance, and saw that Deleroy and the two fine 
 ladies between whom he sat, all of whom appeared to have had enough of 
 wine, were pointing at us. Indeed, in a silence, such as now and again 
 happens at feasts, I heard one of them say, 
   
 "You had best beware lest that fair white dove of yours does not slip 
 your hand and begin to coo in another's ear, my Lord Deleroy," and heard 
 his answer, 
   
 "Nay, I have her too fast, and who cares for a pining dove whereof the 
 feathers adorn another's cap?" 
   
 Whilst I was wondering what this dark talk might mean the company broke 
 up, the lady Blanche gliding away through a door at the back of the 
 dais, followed, as I noted, by Deleroy who seemed flushed and angry. 
   
 Many times I visited that prodigal house which seemed to me to be the 
 haunt of folk who, however highly placed and greatly favoured at 
 Court, were as loose in their lives as they were in their talk. Indeed, 
 although I was no saint, I liked them not at all, especially the men 
 with their scented hair, turned-up shoes, and party-coloured clothes. 
 Nor as I thought, did Sir Robert Aleys like them, who, whatever his 
 faults, was a bluff knight of the older sort, who had fought with credit 
 in the French wars. Yet I noted that he seemed to be helpless in their 
 hands, or rather in those of Deleroy, the King's favourite, who was the 
 chief of all the gang. It was as though that gay and handsome young man 
 had some hold over the old soldier, yes, and over his daughter also, 
 though what this might be I could not guess. 
   
 Now I will move on with the tale. In due course the parchments were 
 signed and delivered, and the money in good gold was paid over on my 
 behalf, after which the great household at Westminster became more 
 prodigal than before. But when the time came for the discharge of the 
 interest due not a groat was forthcoming. Then afterwards there was talk 
 of my taking over certain of the pledged lands in lieu of this interest. 
 Sir Robert suggested this and I assented, because Blanche had told me 
 that it would help her father. Only when the matter was set on foot 
 by my lawyers was it found that these lands were not his to transfer, 
 inasmuch as they had been already mortgaged to their value. 
   
 Then there was a fierce quarrel between Sir Robert Aleys and the lord 
 Deleroy, at which I was present. Sir Robert with many oaths accused his 
 cousin of having forged his name when he was absent in France, while 
 Deleroy declared that what he did was done with due authority. Almost 
 they drew swords on each other, till at length Deleroy took Aleys aside 
 and with a fierce grin whispered something into his ear which caused the 
 old knight to sink down on a stool and call out, 
   
 "Get you gone, you false rogue! Get out of this house, aye, and out 
 of England. If I meet you again, by God's Blood I swear that King's 
 favourite or no King's favourite, I'll throat you like a hog!" 
   
 To which Deleroy mocked in answer: 
   
 "Good! I'll go, my gentle cousin, which it suits me well to do who have 
 certain business of the King's awaiting me in France. Aye, I'll go and 
 leave you to settle with this worthy trader who may hold that you have 
 duped him. Do it as you will, except in one fashion, of which you know. 
 Now a word with my cousin Blanche and another at the Palace and I ride 
 for Dover. Farewell, Cousin Aleys. Farewell, worthy merchant for whose 
 loss I should grieve, did I not know that soon you will recoup yourself 
 out of gentle pockets. Mourn not over me over much, either of you, since 
 doubtless ere so very long I shall return." 
   
 Now my blood flamed up and I answered: 
   
 "I pray you do not hurry, my lord, lest you should find me waiting for 
 you with a shield and a sword in place of a warrant and a pen." 
   
 He heard and called out, "Fore God, this chapman thinks himself a 
 knight!" 
   
 Then with a mocking laugh he went. 
   
   
   
 CHAPTER VI 
   
 MARRIAGE--AND AFTER 
   
 Sir Robert and I stood facing each other speechless with rage, both of 
 us. At length he said in a hoarse voice: 
   
 "Your pardon, Master Hastings, for the affronts that this bastard 
 lordling has put upon you, an honest man. I tell you that he is a 
 loose-living knave, as you would agree if you knew all his story, a 
 cockatrice that for my sins I have nurtured in my bosom. 'Tis he that 
 has wasted all my substance; 'tis he that has made free of my name, so 
 that I fear me you are defrauded. 'Tis he that uses my house as though 
 it were his own, bringing into it vile women of the Court, and men that 
 are viler still, however high their names and gaudy their attire," and 
 he choked with his wrath and stopped. 
   
 "Why do you suffer these things, sir?" I asked. 
   
 "Forsooth because I must," he answered sullenly, "for he has me and mine 
 by the throat. This Deleroy is very powerful, Master Hastings. At a word 
 from him whispered in the King's ear, I, or you, or any man might find 
 ourselves in the Tower accused of treason, whence we should appear no 
 more." 
   
 Then, as though he wished to get away from the subject of Deleroy and 
 his hold upon him, he went on: 
   
 "I fear me that your money, or much of it, is in danger for Deleroy's 
 bond is worthless, and since the land is already pledged without my 
 knowledge, I have nowhere to turn for gold. I tell you that I am an 
 honest man if one who has fallen into ill company, and this wickedness 
 cuts me deep, for I know not how you will be repaid." 
   
 Now a thought came to me, and as was my bold fashion in all business, I 
 acted on it instantly. 
   
 "Sir Robert Aleys," I said, "should it be pleasing to you and another, 
 I can see a way in which this debt may be cancelled without shame to you 
 and yet to my profit." 
   
 "Then in God's name speak it! For I see none." 
   
 "Sir, in bygone time, as it chanced I was able yonder at Hastings to do 
 some service to your daughter and in that hour she took my heart." 
   
 He started but motioned to me to continue. 
   
 "Sir, I love her truly and desire more than anything to make her my 
 wife. I know she is far above me in station, still although but a 
 merchant, I am of good descent as I can prove to you. Moreover, I 
 am rich, for this money that I have advanced to you, or to the lord 
 Deleroy, is but a small part of my wealth which grows day by day through 
 honest trade. Sir, if my suit were accepted I should be ready, not only 
 to help you further on certain terms, but by deed and will to settle 
 most of it upon the lady Blanche and upon our children. Sir, what say 
 you?" 
   
 Sir Robert tugged at his red beard and stared down at the floor. 
 Presently he lifted his head and I saw that his face was troubled, the 
 face of a man, indeed, who is struggling with himself, or, as I thought, 
 with his pride. 
   
 "A fair offer fairly put," he said, "but the question is, not what I 
 say, but what says Blanche." 
   
 "Sir, I do not know who have never asked her. Yet at times I have 
 thought that her mind towards me is not unkind." 
   
 "Is it so? Well, perhaps now that he--well, let that lie. Master 
 Hastings, you have my leave to try your fortune and I tell you straight 
 that I hope it will be good. With your wealth your rank may be soon 
 mended and you are an honest man whom I should be glad to welcome as a 
 son, for I have had enough of these Court knaves and painted Jezebels. 
 But if such is your fancy towards Blanche, my counsel to you is that you 
 put it quickly to the proof--aye, man, at once. Mark my words, for such 
 a swan as she is many snares are set beneath the dirty waters of this 
 Court." 
   
 "The sooner the better, sir." 
   
 "Good. I'll send her to you and, one word more--be not over shy, or 
 ready to take the first 'no' for an answer, or to listen to the tale of 
 bygone fancies, such as all women have." 
   
 Then suddenly he went, leaving me there wondering at his words and 
 manner, which I did not understand. This I understood, however, that he 
 desired that I should marry Blanche, which considering all things I held 
 somewhat strange, although I had the wealth she lacked. Doubtless, I 
 thought, it must be because his honour had been touched on the matter 
 of the trick that had been played upon him without his knowledge. Then I 
 ceased from these wonderings and gave my thought to what I should say to 
 Blanche. 
   
 I waited a long while and still she did not come, till at last I 
 believed that she was away from the house, or guessing my business, had 
 refused to see me. At length, however, she entered the room, so silently 
 that I who was staring at the great abbey through a window-place never 
 heard the door open or close. I think that some sense of her presence 
 must have drawn me, since suddenly I turned to see her standing before 
 me. She was clad all in white, having a round cap or coronet upon her 
 head beneath which her shining fair hair was looped in braids. Her 
 little coat, trimmed with ermine, was fastened with a single jewel, that 
 ruby heart embraced by serpents which I had given her. She wore no other 
 ornament. Thus seen she looked most lovely and most sweet and all my 
 heart went out in yearning for her. 
   
 "My father tells me that you wish to speak with me, so I have come," she 
 said in her low clear voice, searching my face curiously with her large 
 eyes. 
   
 I bowed my head and paused, not knowing how to begin. 
   
 "How can I serve you, who, I fear, have been ill served?" she went on 
 with a little smile as though she found amusement in my confusion. 
   
 "In one way only," I exclaimed, "by giving yourself in marriage to me. 
 For that I seek, no less." 
   
 Now her fair face that had been pale became stained with red and she 
 let her eyes fall as though she were searching for something among the 
 rushes that strewed the floor. 
   
 "Hearken before you answer," I continued. "When first I spoke with you 
 on that bloody day at Hastings and you had but just come to womanhood, I 
 loved you and swore to myself that I would die to save you. I saved you 
 and we kissed and were parted. Afterwards I tried to put you out of my 
 heart, knowing that you were set far above me and no meat for such as I, 
 though still for your sake I wooed no other woman in marriage. The years 
 went by and fortune brought us together again, and lo! the old love was 
 stronger than before. I know that I am not worthy of you who are so high 
 and good and pure. Still----" and I stopped, lacking words. 
   
 She moved uneasily and the red colour left her cheeks as though she had 
 been suddenly pained. 
   
 "Bethink you," she said with a touch of hardness in her voice, "can 
 one who lives the life I live and keeps my company, remain as holy and 
 unstained as you believe? If you would gather such a lily, surely you 
 should seek it in a country garden, not in the reek of London." 
   
 "I neither know nor care," I answered, whose blood was all afire. "I 
 know only that wherever you grow and from whatever soil, you are the 
 flower I would pluck." 
   
 "Bethink you again; an ugly slug might have smeared my whiteness." 
   
 "If so the honest sun and rain will recover and wash it and I am a 
 gardener who scatters lime to shrivel slugs." 
   
 "If to this one you will not listen, then hear another argument. 
 Perchance I do not love you. Would you win a loveless bride?" 
   
 "Perchance you can learn of love, or if not, I have enough to serve for 
 two." 
   
 "By my faith! it should not be difficult with a man so honest and so 
 well favoured. And yet--a further plea. My cousin Deleroy has cheated 
 you" (here her face hardened), "and I think I am offered to you by my 
 father in satisfaction of his honour, as men who have no gold offer a 
 house or a horse to close a debt." 
   
 "It is not so. I prayed you of your father. The loss, if loss there be, 
 is but a chance of trade, such as I face every day. Still, I will be 
 plain and tell you that I risked it with open eyes, expecting nothing 
 less, that I might come near to you." 
   
 Now she sat herself down in a chair, covering her face with her hands, 
 and I saw from the trembling of her body that she was sobbing. While I 
 wondered what to do, for the sight wrung me, she let fall her hands and 
 there were tears upon her face. 
   
 "Shall I tell you all my story, you good, simple gentleman?" she asked. 
   
 "Nay, only two things. Are you the wife of some other man?" 
   
 "Not so, though perhaps--once I went near to it. What is the other 
 question?" 
   
 "Do you love some other man so that your heart tells you it is not 
 possible that you should ever love me?" 
   
 "No, I do not," she answered almost fiercely, "but by the Rood! I hate 
 one." 
   
 "Which is no affair of mine," I said, laughing. "For the rest, let it 
 sleep. Few are they that know life's wars who have no scar to hide, and 
 I am not one of them, though in truth your lips made the deepest yonder 
 by the cave at Hastings." 
   
 When she heard this she coloured to her brow and forgetting her tears, 
 laughed outright, while I went on: 
   
 "Therefore let the past be and if it is your will, let us set our eyes 
 upon the future. Only one promise would I ask of you, that never again 
 will you be alone with the lord Deleroy, since one so light-fingered 
 with a pen would, I think, steal other things." 
   
 "By my soul! the last thing I desire is to be alone with my cousin 
 Deleroy." 
   
 Now she rose from the chair and for a little while we stood facing 
 each other. Then she very slightly opened her arms and lifted her face 
 towards me. 
   
 Thus did Blanche Aleys and I become affianced, though afterwards, when I 
 thought the business over, I remembered that never once did she say that 
 she would marry me. This, however, troubled me little, since in such 
 matters it is what women do that weighs, not what they say. For the rest 
 I was mad with love of her, also both then and as the days went by, more 
 and more did she seem to be travelling on this same road of Love. If 
 not, indeed she acted well. 
   
 Within a month we were wed on a certain October day in the church of 
 St. Margaret's at Westminster. Once it was agreed all desired to push on 
 this marriage, and not least Blanche herself. Sir Robert Aleys said that 
 he wished to be gone from London to his estates in Sussex, having had 
 enough of the Court and its ways, desiring there to live quietly till 
 the end; I, being so much in love, was on fire for my bride, and Blanche 
 herself vowed that she was eager to become my wife, saying that our 
 courtship, which began on Hastings Hill, had lasted long enough. For the 
 rest, there was nothing to cause delay. I cancelled Sir Robert's debt 
 to me and signed a deed in favour of his daughter and her offspring, 
 whereof I gave a copy to his lawyer and there was nought else to be done 
 except to prepare my house for her which, with money at command, was 
 easy. 
   
 No great business was made of this marriage, since neither his kin nor 
 Sir Robert himself wished to noise it about that his only child, the 
 last of his House, was taking a merchant for her husband to save her and 
 him from wreck. Nor did I, the merchant, wish to provoke talk amongst 
 those of my own station, especially as it was known that I had advanced 
 moneys to these fine folks of the Court. So it came about that few were 
 asked to the ceremony that was fixed for an early hour, and of these 
 not many came, because on that day, although it was but October, a great 
 gale with storms of rain began to blow, the greatest indeed that I had 
 known in my life. 
   
 Thus it chanced that we were wed in an almost empty church while the 
 fierce wind, thundering against the windows, overcame the feeble voice 
 of the old priest, so that he looked like one acting in a show without 
 words. The darkness caused by the thick rain was so deep, also, that 
 scarce could I see my bride's lovely face or find the finger upon which 
 I must set the ring. 
   
 At length it was done and we went down the aisle to find our horses 
 whereon we must ride to my house in Cheapside, where there was to be 
 a feast for my dependents and such of my few friends as cared to come, 
 among whom were not numbered any grand folk from Westminster. As we 
 drew near the church door I noted among those who were present those 
 two gaudy ladies between whom Deleroy had sat at that meal after the 
 business of the loan was settled. Moreover, I heard one of them say: 
   
 "What will Deleroy do when he comes back to find his darling gone?" and 
 the other answer with a high laugh: 
   
 "Seek another, doubtless, or borrow more money from the merchant, 
 and----" Here I lost their talk in the rush of the wind through the 
 opened door. 
   
 In the porch was old Sir Robert Aleys. 
   
 "Mother of God!" he shouted, "may the rest of the lives of you two be 
 smoother than your nuptials. No Cheapside feast for me, I'm for home 
 in such fiend's weather. Farewell, son Hubert, and all joy to you. 
 Farewell, Blanche. Learn to be obedient as a wife and keep your eyes for 
 your husband's face, that is my counsel to you. Till we meet again at 
 Christmastide in Sussex, whither I ride to-morrow, farewell to both of 
 you." 
   
 Farewell, it was indeed, for never did either of us look on him again. 
   
 Wrapped close in our cloaks we battled through the storm and at length, 
 somewhat breathless, reached my house in the Cheap where the garlands of 
 autumn flowers and greenery that I had caused to be wreathed from posts 
 before the door were all torn away by the gale. Here I welcomed my wife 
 as best I could, kissing her as she crossed the threshold and saying 
 certain sweet words that I had prepared, to which she smiled an answer. 
 Then the women took her to her chamber to make herself ready and 
 afterwards came the feast, which was sumptuous of its sort, though the 
 evil weather kept some of the guests away. 
   
 Scarcely had it begun when Kari, who of late had been sad-faced and 
 brooding, and who did not eat with us, entered and whispered to me that 
 my Master of Lading from the docks prayed to see me at once on a matter 
 which would brook no delay. Making excuse to Blanche and the company, 
 I went out to see him in the shop and found the man much disturbed. It 
 seemed that a certain vessel of mine that I had rechristened _Blanche_ 
 in honour of my wife, which lay in the stream ready to sail, was in 
 great danger because of the tempest. Indeed, she was dragging at her 
 anchor, and it was feared that unless more anchors could be let down she 
 would come ashore and be wrecked against the jetty-heads or otherwise. 
 The reason why this had not been done, was that only the master and one 
 sailor were on board the vessel; the rest were feasting ashore in honour 
 of my marriage, and refused to row out to her, saying that the boat 
 would be swamped in the gale. 
   
 Now this ship, although not very large, was the best and staunchest that 
 I owned, being almost new; moreover, the cargo on board of her, laden 
 for the Mediterranean, was of great value, so great indeed that its loss 
 would have been very grievous to me. Therefore, it was plain that I must 
 see to the matter without delay, since from my servant's account there 
 was no hope that these rebellious sailors would listen to any lesser man 
 than myself. So, if I would save the ship and her cargo, I must ride for 
 the docks at once. 
   
 Going back to the eating-chamber, in a few words I told my wife and the 
 guests how the matter stood, praying the oldest man among the latter 
 to take my place by the bride, which he did unwillingly, muttering that 
 this was an unlucky marriage feast. 
   
 Then it was that Blanche rose, beseeching me earnestly and almost with 
 tears that I would take her with me to the docks. I laughed at her, as 
 did the company, but still she besought with much persistence, till I 
 began to believe that she must be afraid of something, though the others 
 cried that it was but love and fear lest I should come to harm. 
   
 In the end I made her drink a cup of wine with me, but her hand shook so 
 much that she spilled the cup and the rich red wine ran down her breast, 
 staining the whiteness of her robe, whereat some women among the company 
 murmured, thinking it a bad omen. At length with a kiss I tore myself 
 away, for I could bide no longer and the horses were waiting presently. 
 So I was riding for the docks as fast as the storm would suffer, with 
 tiles from the roofs, and when we were clear of these the torn-off limbs 
 of trees hurtling round me. Kari, I should say, would have accompanied 
 me, but I took a serving-man, bidding Kari bide where he was in the 
 house in case he might be of service. 
   
 At last we came safely to the docks where I found all as my cargo-master 
 had described. The ship _Blanche_ was in great peril and dragging every 
 minute towards a pierhead which, if she struck, would stave her in and 
 make an end of her. The men, too, were still feasting in the inn with 
 their wharfside trollops, and some of them half drunk. I spoke to them, 
 showing them their shame, and saying that if they would not come, I and 
 my man would take a boat and get aboard alone and this upon my wedding 
 day. Then they hung their heads and came. 
   
 We won to the ship safely though with much toil and danger, and there 
 found the master almost crazed with fear and doubt of the issue, and the 
 man with him injured by a falling block. Indeed, this poor captain clung 
 to the rail, watching the cable as it dragged the anchor and fearing 
 every moment lest it should part. 
   
 The rest is soon told. We got out two more anchors and did other things 
 such as sailors know, to help in such a case. When all was as safe as 
 it could be made, I and my man and four sailors started for the quay, 
 telling the master that I would return upon the morrow. The wind and 
 current aiding us, we landed safe and sound and at once I rode back to 
 Cheapside. 
   
 Now, though it is short to tell, all this had taken a long while, also 
 the way was far to ride in such a storm. Thus it came about that it was 
 nigh to ten o'clock at night when, thanking God, I dismounted at the 
 gate of my house and bade the servant take the horses to the stable. As 
 I drew near the door, it opened, which astonished me and, as the light 
 within showed, there stood Kari. What astonished me still more, he had 
 the great sword, Wave-Flame, in his hand, though not drawn, which sword 
 he must have fetched from where it was kept with the French knight's 
 armour and the shield that bore three arrows as a cognizance. 
   
 Laying his finger on his lips he shut the door softly, then said in a 
 low voice: 
   
 "Master, there is a man up yonder with the lady." 
   
 "What man?" I asked. 
   
 "That same lord, Master, who came here with her once before to buy 
 jewels and borrow gold. Hearken. The feast being finished the guests 
 went away at fall of night, but the wife-lady withdrew herself into the 
 chamber that is called sun-room (the solar), that up the stairs, which 
 looks out on the street. About one hour gone there came a knock at the 
 door. I who was watching, opened, thinking it was you returned, and 
 there stood that lord. He spoke to me, saying: 
   
 "'Moor-man, I know that your master is from home, but that the lady is 
 here. I would speak with her.' 
   
 "Now I would have turned him away, but at that moment the lady herself, 
 who it seemed was watching, came down the stairs, looking very white, 
 and said: 
   
 "'Kari, let the lord come in. I have matters of your master's business 
 about which I must talk with him.' So, Master, knowing that you had lent 
 money to this lord, I obeyed, though I liked it not, and having fetched 
 the sword which I thought perchance might be needed, I waited." 
   
 This was the substance of what he said, though his talk was more broken 
 since he never learned to speak English well and helped it out with 
 words of his own tongue, of which, as I have told, he had taught me 
 something. 
   
 "I do not understand," I exclaimed, when he had finished. "Doubtless 
 it is little or nothing. Yet give me the sword, for who knows? and come 
 with me." 
   
 Kari obeyed, and as I went up the stairs I buckled Wave-Flame about me. 
 Also Kari brought two candles of Italian wax lighted upon their stands. 
 Coming to the door of the solar I tried to open it, but it was bolted. 
   
 "God's truth!" I said, "this is strange," and hammered on the panel with 
 my fist. 
   
 Presently it opened, but before entering it, for I feared some trick, 
 I stood without and looked in. The room was lit by a hanging lamp and 
 a fire burned brightly on the hearth, for the night was cold. In an oak 
 chair by the fire and staring into it sat Blanche still as any statue. 
 She glanced round and saw me in the light of the candles that Kari held, 
 and again stared into the fire. Half-way between her and the door stood 
 Deleroy, dressed as ever in fine clothes, though I noted that his cape 
 was off and hung over a stool near the fire as though to dry. I noted 
 also that he wore a sword and a dagger. I entered the room, followed by 
 Kari, shut the door behind me and shot the bolt. Then I spoke, asking: 
   
 "Why are you here with my wife, Lord Deleroy?" 
   
 "It is strange, Master merchant," he answered, "but I was about to put 
 much the same question to you: namely, why is _my_ wife in your house?" 
   
 Now, while I reeled beneath these words, without turning her head, 
 Blanche by the fire said: 
   
 "He lies, Hubert. I am not his wife." 
   
 "Why are you here, my Lord Deleroy?" I repeated. 
   
 "Well, if you would know, Master merchant, I bring a paper for you, or 
 rather a copy of it, for the writ itself will be served on you to-morrow 
 by the King's officers. It commits you to the Tower under the royal 
 seal for trading with the King's enemies, a treason that can be proved 
 against you, of which as you know, or will shortly learn, the punishment 
 is death," and as he spoke he threw a writing down upon a side table. 
   
 "I see the plot," I answered coldly. "The King's unworthy favourite, 
 forger and thief, uses the King's authority to try to bring the King's 
 honest subject to bonds and death by a false accusation. It is a common 
 trick in these days. But let that be. For the third time I ask you--why 
 are you here with my new-wed wife and at this hour of the night?" 
   
 "So courteous a question demands a courteous answer, Master merchant, 
 but to give it I must trouble you to listen to a tale." 
   
 "Then let it be like my patience, brief," I replied. 
   
 "It shall," he said with a mocking bow. 
   
 Then very clearly and quietly he set out a dreadful story, giving dates 
 and circumstances. Let that story be. The substance of it was that he 
 had married Blanche soon after she reached womanhood and that she had 
 borne him a child which died. 
   
 "Blanche," I said when he had done, "you have heard. Is this true?" 
   
 "Much of it is true," she answered in that strange, cold voice, still 
 staring at the fire. "Only the marriage was a false one by which I 
 was deceived. He who celebrated it was a companion of the Lord Deleroy 
 tricked out as a priest." 
   
 "Do not let us wrangle of this matter," said Deleroy. "A man who mixes 
 with the world like yourself, Master merchant, will know that women in a 
 trap rarely lack excuses. Still if it be admitted that this marriage 
 did not fulfil all formalities, then so much the better for Blanche 
 and myself. If she be your lawful wife and not mine, you, I learn, have 
 signed a writing in her favour under which she will inherit your great 
 wealth. That indenture I think you can find no opportunity to dispute, 
 and if you do I have a promise that the property of a certain traitor 
 shall pass to me, the revealer of his treachery. Let it console you in 
 your last moments, Master merchant, to remember that the lady whom you 
 have honoured with your fancy will pass her days in wealth and comfort 
 in the company of him whom she has honoured with her love." 
   
 "Draw!" I said briefly as I unsheathed my sword. 
   
 "Why should I fight with a base, trading usurer?" he asked, still 
 mocking me, though I thought that there was doubt in his voice. 
   
 "Answer your own question, thief. Fight if you will, or die without 
 fighting if you will not. For know that until I am dead you do not leave 
 this room living." 
   
 "Until I dead too, O Lord," broke in Kari in his gentle voice, bowing in 
 his courteous foreign fashion. 
   
 As he did so with a sudden motion Kari shook the cloak back from his 
 body and for the first time I saw that thrust through his leathern belt 
 was a long weapon, half sword and half dagger, also that its sharpened 
 steel was bare. 
   
 "Oh!" exclaimed Deleroy, "now I understand that I am trapped and that 
 when you told me, Blanche, that this man would not return to-night and 
 that therefore we were safe together, you lied. Well, my Lady Blanche, 
 you shall pay for this trick later." 
 
   
 
 
 Part: 2 
 
   
 Whilst he spoke thus, slowly, as though to gain time, he was looking 
 about him, and as the last word left his lips, knowing that the door was 
 locked, he dashed for the window, hoping, I suppose, to leap through the 
 casement, or if that failed, to shout for help. But Kari, who had set 
 the candles he bore on a side table, that where the writing lay, read 
 his mind. With a movement more swift than that of a polecat leaping on 
 its prey, the swiftest indeed that ever I saw, he sprang between him and 
 the casement, so that Deleroy scarce escaped pinning himself upon the 
 steel that he held in his long, outstretched arm. Indeed, I think it 
 pricked his throat, for he checked himself with an oath and drew 
 his sword, a double-edged weapon with a sharp point, as long as mine 
 perhaps, but not so heavy. 
   
 "I see that I must finish the pair of you. Perchance, Blanche, you will 
 protect my back as a loving wife should do, until this lout is done 
 with," he said, swaggering to the last. 
   
 "Kari," I commanded, "hold the candles aloft that the light may be good, 
 and leave this man to me." 
   
 Kari bowed and took the copper taper stands, one in either hand, and 
 held them aloft. But first he placed his long dagger, not back in his 
 belt, but between his teeth with the handle towards his right hand. Even 
 then in some strange fashion I noted how terrible looked this grim dark 
 man holding the candles high with the knife gripped between his white 
 teeth. 
   
 Deleroy and I faced each other in the open space between the fire and 
 the door. Blanche turned round upon her stool and watched, uttering no 
 sound. But I laughed aloud for of the end I had no doubt. Had there been 
 ten Deleroys I would have slain them all. Still presently I found there 
 was cause to doubt, for when, parrying his first thrust, I drove at him 
 with all my strength, instead of piercing him through and through the 
 ancient sword, Wave-Flame, bent in my hand like a bow as it is strung, 
 telling me that beneath his Joseph's coat of silk Deleroy wore a shirt 
 of mail. 
   
 Then I cried: "_A-hoi!_" as Thorgrimmer my ancestor may have done when 
 he wielded this same sword, and while Deleroy still staggered beneath 
 my thrust I grasped Wave-Flame with both hands, wheeled it aloft, and 
 smote. He lifted his arm round which he had wound his cloak, to protect 
 his head, but the sword shore through cloak and arm, so that his hand 
 with the glittering rings upon it fell to the floor. 
   
 Again I smote for, as both of us knew, this business was to the death, 
 and Deleroy fell down dead, smitten through the brain. 
   
 Kari smiled gently, and lifting the cloak, shook it out and threw it 
 over what had been Deleroy. Then he took my sword and while I watched 
 him idly, cleansed it with rushes from the floor. 
   
 Next I heard a sound from the neighbourhood of the fire, and bethinking 
 me of Blanche turned to speak to her, though what I was going to say God 
 knows for I do not. 
   
 A terrible sight met my eyes and burned itself into my very soul so that 
 it could never be forgot. Blanche was leaning back in the oak chair over 
 which flowed her long, fair locks, and the front of her robe was red. I 
 remembered how she had spilt the wine at the feast and thought I saw its 
 stain, till presently, still staring, I noted that it grew and knew it 
 to be caused by another wine, that of her blood. Also I noted that from 
 the midst of it seen in the lamplight, just beneath the snake-encircled 
 ruby heart, appeared the little handle of a dagger. 
   
 I sprang to her, but she lifted her hand and waved me back. 
   
 "Touch me not," she whispered, "I am not fit, also the thrust is mortal. 
 If you draw the knife I shall die at once, and first I would speak. I 
 would have you know that I love you and hoped to be a good wife to you. 
 What I said was true. That dead man tricked me with a false marriage 
 when I was scarcely more than a child, and afterwards he would not 
 mend it with an honest. Perchance he himself was wed, or he had other 
 reasons, I do not know. My father guessed much but not all. I tried 
 to warn you when you offered yourself, but you were deaf and blind and 
 would not see or listen. Then I gave way, liking you well and thinking 
 that I should find rest, as indeed I do; thinking also that I should be 
 wealthy and able to shut that villain's mouth with gold. I never knew 
 he was coming here or even that he had sailed home from France, but he 
 broke in upon me, having learned that you were away, and was about to 
 leave when you returned. He came for money for which he believed that 
 I had wed, and thinking to win me back from one doomed by his lies to a 
 traitor's death. You know the rest, and for me there was but one thing 
 to do. Be glad that you are no longer burdened with me and go find 
 happiness in the arms of a more fortunate or a better woman. Fly, and 
 swiftly, for Deleroy had many friends and the King himself loved him 
 as a brother--as well he may. Fly, I say, and forgive--forgive! Hubert, 
 farewell!" 
   
 Thus she spoke, ever more slowly and lower, till with the last word her 
 life left her lips. 
   
   
   
 Thus ended the story of my marriage with Blanche Aleys. 
   
   
   
   
 BOOK II 
   
   
   
 CHAPTER I 
   
 THE NEW WORLD 
   
 They were forever silent now, who, but a breath before, had been so full 
 of life and the stir of mortal passion; Deleroy dead beneath the cloak 
 upon the floor, Blanche dead in the oaken chair. We who remained alive 
 were silent also. I glanced at Kari's face; it was as that of a stone 
 statue on a tomb, only in it his large eyes shone, noting all things 
 and, as I imagined in my distraught fancy, filled with triumph and 
 foreknowledge. Considering it in that strange calm of the spirit which 
 sometimes supervenes on great and terrible events that for a while crush 
 its mortality from the soul and set it free to marvel at the temporal 
 pettiness of all we consider immediate and mighty, I wondered what was 
 the aspect of my own. 
   
 At the moment, I, who on this day had passed the portals of so many 
 emotions: that of the lover's longing for his bride won at last, only to 
 be lost again, that of acute and necessary business, that of the ancient 
 joy of battle and vengeance wreaked upon an evil man; that of the 
 unshuttering of my own eyes to the flame of a hellish truth, that of the 
 self-murder and turning to cold clay before those same eyes of her whom 
 I had hoped to clasp in honest love--I, I say, felt as though I, too, 
 were dead. Indeed all within was dead, only the shell of flesh remained 
 alive, and in my heart I echoed the words of my old uncle and of a wiser 
 than he who went before him--"Vanity of vanities! All is vanity!" 
   
 It was Kari who spoke first, Kari as ever calm and even-voiced, saying 
 in his broken English of which but the substance is recorded: 
   
 "Things have happened, good things I hold, though you, Master, may think 
 otherwise for a little while. Yet in this rough land of savages and 
 small justice these things may bring trouble. That lord brought a 
 writing," and he nodded towards the document on the table, "and talked 
 of death for _you_, Master--not for himself. And the lady, while she 
 still lived, she say--'Fly, fly or die!' And now?" and he glanced at the 
 two bodies. 
   
 I looked at him vacantly for the numbness following the first shock was 
 passing away and all the eating agony of my loss began to fix its fangs 
 upon my heart. 
   
 "Whither can I fly?" I asked. "And why should I fly? I am an innocent 
 man and for the rest, the sooner I am dead the better." 
   
 "My Master must fly," answered Kari in swift, broken words, "because he 
 still live and is free. Also sorrow behind, joy before. Kari, who hate 
 women and read heart, Kari who drink this same bitter water long ago, 
 guess these things coming and think and think. No need that Master 
 trouble, Kari settle all and tell Master that if he do what he say, 
 everything come right." 
   
 "What am I to do?" I asked with a groan. 
   
 "Ship _Blanche_ on great river ready for sea. Master and Kari sail in 
 her before daybreak. Here leave everything: much land, much wealth--what 
 matter? Life more than these things which can get again. Come. No, one 
 minute, wait." 
   
 Then he went to the body of Deleroy and with wonderful swiftness took 
 off it the chain coat he wore beneath his tunic, which he put on his 
 own body. Also he took his sword and buckled it about him, while the 
 parchment writ he threw upon the fire. Then he extinguished the hanging 
 lamp and gave me one of the candles, taking the other himself. 
   
 At the door I held up my candle and by the light of it looked my last 
 upon the ashen face of Blanche, which face I knew must go with me 
 through all my life's days. 
   
 Kari locked the stout oaken door of the solar from the outside and took 
 me into my chamber, where was the armour of the knight whom I had killed 
 on Hastings Hill, which armour I had caused to be altered to fit myself. 
 Swiftly he buckled it on to me, throwing over all a long, dark robe such 
 as merchants wear. From the cupboard, too, he brought the big black bow 
 and a sheath of arrows, also a purseful of gold pieces from where they 
 were kept, and with them the leathern bag which he had worn when I found 
 him on the quay. 
   
 We went into the room where the feast had been held and there drank 
 some wine, though eat I could not. The cup from which I drank was, as it 
 chanced, the same in which I had pledged Blanche at the bride feast. Now 
 I pledged her spirit whereon I prayed God's mercy. 
   
 We left the house and in the stable saddled two horses, strong, quiet 
 beasts. Then by way of the back yard we rode out into the night, none 
 seeing us, for by now all were asleep, and in that weather the streets 
 were empty, even of such as walked them in darkness. 
   
 We reached the quay I know not how long afterwards whose mind was 
 full of thoughts that blotted out all else. How strange had been my 
 life--that was one of them. Within a few years I had risen to great 
 wealth, and won the woman I desired. And now where was the wealth and 
 where was the woman, and what was I? One flying his native land by night 
 with blood upon his hands, the blood of a King's favourite that, if he 
 were taken, would bring him to the noose. Oh! how great was the contrast 
 between the morn and the midnight of that day for me! "Vanity of 
 vanities. All is vanity!" 
   
 I think that my mind must have wandered, for when my soul was swallowed 
 in this deepest pit of hell, it seemed to me that he whom I had 
 worshipped as a heavenly patron, St. Hubert, appeared striding by my 
 horse with a shining countenance and said to me: 
   
 "Have good courage, Godson, and remember your mother's words--a wanderer 
 shall you be, but where'er you go the good bow and the good sword shall 
 keep you safe and I wander with you. Nor does all love die with one 
 woman's passing breath." 
   
 This phantasy, as it were, lanced the abscess of my pain and for a 
 while I was easier. Also something of hope came back to me. I no longer 
 desired to die but rather to live and in life, not in the tomb, to find 
 forgetfulness. 
   
 We reached the quay and placed the horses in a shed that served as 
 stables there, ridding them of their bits and saddles that they might 
 eat of the hay in the racks. The thought to do this came to me, which 
 showed that my mind was working again since still I could attend to the 
 wants of other creatures. Then we went to the quayside where was made 
 fast that boat in which I had come ashore some hours gone. There was a 
 moon which now and again showed between the drifting clouds, and by 
 the light of it I saw that the _Blanche_ lay safe at her anchors not a 
 bowshot away. The gale had fallen much with the rising of the moon, 
 as it often does, and so it came about that although the boat was 
 over-large for two men to handle rightly, Kari and I, by watching our 
 chance, were able to row it to the ship, on to which we climbed by the 
 ladder. 
   
 Here we found a sailor on watch who was amazed to see us, and with his 
 help, made the boat fast by the tow rope to the stern of the ship. 
   
 This done I caused the captain to be awakened and told him briefly that 
 as the gale had abated and tide and wind served, I desired to sail 
 at once. He stared at me, thinking me mad, whom he knew to have been 
 married but that day. 
   
 Surely, he said, I should wait for the light and to gather up those of 
 the ship's company who were still ashore. I answered that I would wait 
 for nothing, and when he asked why, was inspired to tell him that it was 
 because I went about the King's business, having letters from his Grace 
 to deliver to his Envoys in the South Seas that brooked of no delay, 
 since on them hung peace or war. 
   
 "Beware," I said to him, "how you, or any of you, dare to disobey the 
 King's orders, for you know that the fate of such is a short shrift and 
 a long rope." 
   
 Then that captain grew frightened and summoned the sailors, who by 
 now had slept off their drink, and to them he told my commands. They 
 murmured, pointing to the sky, but when they saw me standing there, 
 wearing a knight's armour and looking very stern with my hand upon my 
 sword, when also through Kari I promised them double pay for the voyage, 
 they, too, grew frightened, and having set some small sails, got up the 
 anchors. 
   
 So it came about that within little more than an hour of our boarding of 
 that ship she was running out towards the sea as fast as tide and wind 
 could drive her. I think that it was not too soon, for as the quay 
 vanished in the gloom I saw men with lanterns moving on it, and thought 
 to myself that perhaps an alarm had been given and they were come to 
 take me. 
   
 This captain was one who knew the river well, and with the help of 
 another sailor he steered us down its reaches safely. By dawn we had 
 passed Tilbury and at full light were off Gravesend racing for the open 
 sea. Now it was that behind us we perceived from the rushing clouds that 
 the gale, which had lulled during the night, was coming up more strongly 
 than ever and still easterly. The sailors grew afraid again and together 
 with the captain vowed that it was madness to face the sea in such 
 weather, and that we must anchor, or make the shore if we could. 
   
 I refused to listen to them, whereat they seemed to give way. 
   
 At that moment Kari, who had gone forward, called to me. I went to 
 him and he pointed out to me men galloping along the bank and waving 
 kerchiefs, as though to signal to us to stop. 
   
 "I think, Master," said Kari, "that some have entered the sun-room at 
 your house." 
   
 I nodded and watched the men who galloped and waved. For some minutes I 
 watched them till suddenly I saw that the ship was altering her course 
 so that her bow pointed first one way and then another, as though she 
 were no longer being steered. We ran aft to learn the cause, and found 
 this. 
   
 That crew of dastards, every man of them and the captain with them, had 
 drawn up the boat in which Kari and I came aboard, that was still tied 
 to the ship's stern, and slid down the rope into her, purposing to 
 win ashore before it was too late. Kari smiled as though he were not 
 astonished, but in my rage I shouted at them, calling them curs and 
 traitors. I think that the captain heard my words for I saw him turn 
 his head and look away as though in shame, but not the others. They were 
 engaged in hunting for the oars, only to find them gone, for it would 
 seem that they had been washed or had fallen overboard. 
   
 Then they tried to set some kind of sail by aid of a boathook, but while 
 they were doing this, the boat, which had drifted side on to the great 
 waves raised by the gale upon the face of the broad river, overturned. I 
 saw some of the men clinging to the boat and one or two scrambling on to 
 her keel, but what chanced to them and the others I do not know, who had 
 rushed to the steering gear to set the ship upon her course again, 
 lest her fate should be that of the boat, or we should go ashore and be 
 captured by those who galloped on the bank, or be drowned. This was the 
 last I ever saw or heard of the crew of the _Blanche_. 
   
 The ship's bow came round and, driven by the ever-increasing gale, she 
 rushed on her course towards the sea, bearing us with her, two weak and 
 lonely men. 
   
 "Kari," I said, "what shall we do? Try to run ashore, or sail on?" 
   
 He thought awhile then answered, pointing to those who galloped, now but 
 tiny figures on the distant bank: 
   
 "Master, yonder is death, sure death; and yonder," here he pointed to 
 the sea, "is death--perhaps. Master, you have a God, and I, Kari, have 
 another God, mayhap same God with different name. I say--Trust our Gods 
 and sail on, for Gods better than men. If we die in water, what matter? 
 Water softer than rope, but I think not die." 
   
 I nodded, for the reasoning seemed good. Rather would I be drowned than 
 fall into the hands of those who were galloping on the shore, to be 
 dragged back to London and a felon's doom. 
   
 So I pressed upon the tiller to bring the _Blanche_ more into 
 mid-channel, and headed for the sea. Wider and wider grew the estuary 
 and farther and farther away the shores as the _Blanche_ scudded on 
 beneath her small sails with the weight of the gale behind her, till at 
 last there was the open sea. 
   
 Within a few feet of the tiller was a deck-house, in which the crew ate, 
 built of solid oak and clamped with iron. Here was food in plenty, ale, 
 too, and with these we filled ourselves. Also, leaving Kari to hold the 
 tiller, I took off my armour and in place of it clothed myself in the 
 rough sea garments that lay about with tall greased boots, and then sent 
 him to do likewise. 
   
 Soon we lost sight of land and were climbing the great ocean billows, 
 whose foamy crests rolled and spurted wherever the eye fell. We could 
 set no course but must go where the gale drove us, away, away we knew 
 not whither. As I have said, the _Blanche_ was new and strong and the 
 best ship that ever I had sailed in upon a heavy sea. Moreover, her 
 hatches were closed down, for this the sailors had done after we 
 weighed, so she rode the waters like a duck, taking no harm. Oh! well 
 it was for me that from my childhood I had had to do with ships and the 
 sailing of them, and flying from the following waves thus was able to 
 steer and keep the _Blanche's_ poop right in the wind, which seemed to 
 blow first from one quarter and then from that. 
   
   
   
 Now over my memory of these events there comes a great confusion and 
 sense of amazement. All became fragmentary and disjointed, separated 
 also by what seemed to be considerable periods of time--days or weeks 
 perhaps. There was a sense of endless roaring seas before which the ship 
 fled on and on, driven by a screaming gale that I noted dimly seemed to 
 blow first from the northwest and then steadily from the east. 
   
 I see myself, very distinctly, lashing the tiller to iron rings that 
 were screwed in the deck beams, and know that I did this because I 
 was too weak to hold it any longer and desired to set it so that the 
 _Blanche_ should continue to drive straight before the gale. I see 
 myself lying in the deck-house of which I have spoken, while Kari fed me 
 with food and water and sometimes thrust into my mouth little pellets of 
 I knew not what, which he took from the leathern bag he wore about him. 
 I remembered that bag. It had been on his person when I rescued him at 
 the quay, for I had seen it first as he washed himself afterwards, half 
 full of something, and wondered what it contained. Later, I had seen it 
 in his hand again when we left my house after the death of Blanche. I 
 noted that whenever he gave me one of these pellets I seemed to grow 
 strong for a while, and then to fall into sleep, deep and prolonged. 
   
 After more days--or weeks, I began to behold marvels and to hear strange 
 voices. I thought that I was talking with my mother and with my patron, 
 St. Hubert; also that Blanche came to me and explained everything, 
 showing how little she had been to blame for all that had happened to me 
 and her. These things made me certain that I was dead and I was glad to 
 be dead, since now I knew there would be no more pain or strivings; that 
 the endeavours which make up life from hour to hour had ceased and 
 that rest was won. Only then appeared my uncle, John Grimmer, who kept 
 quoting his favourite text at me--"Vanity of vanities. All is vanity," 
 he said, adding: "Did I not tell you that it was thus years ago? Now you 
 have learned it for yourself. Only, Nephew Hubert, don't think that you 
 have finished with vanities yet, as I have, for I say that there are 
 plenty more to come for you." 
   
 Thus he seemed to talk on about this and other matters, such as what 
 would happen to his wealth and whether the hospitals would be quick 
 to seize the lands to which he had given it the reversion, till I grew 
 quite tired of him and wished that he would go away. 
   
 Then at length there was a great crash that I think disturbed him, 
 for he did go, saying that it was only another "vanity," after which I 
 seemed to fall asleep for weeks and weeks. 
   
 I woke up again for a warmth and brightness on my face caused me to open 
 my eyes. I lifted my hand to shield them from the brightness and noted 
 with a kind of wonder that it was so thin that the light shone through 
 it as it does through parchment, and that the bones were visible beneath 
 the skin. I let it fall from weakness, and it dropped on to hair which I 
 knew must be that of a beard, which set me wondering, for it had been my 
 fashion to go clean-shaven. How, then, did I come by a beard? I looked 
 about me and saw that I was lying on the deck of a ship, yes, of the 
 _Blanche_ itself, for I knew the shape of her stern, also certain knots 
 in one of the uprights of the deck-house that formed a rude resemblance 
 to a human face. Nothing of this deck-house was left now, except the 
 corner posts between which I lay, and to the tops of these was lashed a 
 piece of canvas as though to keep off the sun and the weather. 
   
 With difficulty I lifted my head a little and looked about me. The 
 bulwarks of the ship had gone, but some of the uprights to which 
 the planks had been nailed remained, and between them I perceived 
 tall-stemmed trees with tufts of great leaves at the top of them, which 
 trees seemed to be within a few yards of me. Bright-winged birds flew 
 about them and in their crowns I saw apes such as the sailors used to 
 bring home from Barbary. It would seem, then, that I must be in a river 
 (in fact, it was a little bay or creek, on either side of which these 
 trees appeared). 
   
 Noting these and the creeping plants with beautiful flowers, such as I 
 had never seen, that climbed up them, and the sweet scents that floated 
 on the air, and the clear light, now I grew sure that I was dead and had 
 reached Paradise. Only then how came it that I still lay on the ship, 
 for never had I heard that such things also went to Paradise? Nay, 
 I must dream; it was nothing but a dream that I wished were true, 
 remembering as I did the terrors of that gale-tossed sea. Or, if I did 
 not dream, then I was in some new world. 
   
 While I mused thus I heard a sound of soft footsteps and presently saw 
 a figure bending over me. It was Kari, very thin and hollow-eyed, much, 
 indeed, as he had been when I found him on the quay in London, but still 
 Kari without doubt. He looked at me in his grave fashion, then said 
 softly: 
   
 "Master awake?" 
   
 "Yes, Kari," I said, "but tell me, where am I?" 
   
 He did not answer at once but went away and returned presently with 
 a bowl from which he bade me drink, holding it to my lips. I did 
 so, swallowing what seemed to be broth though I thought it strangely 
 flavoured, after which I felt much stronger, for whatever was in that 
 broth ran through my veins like wine. At last he spoke in his queer 
 English. 
   
 "Master," he said, "when we still in Thames River, you ask me whether we 
 should run ashore into the hands of the hunters who try to catch us, 
 or sail on. I answer, 'You have God and I have God and better fall into 
 hands of gods than into hands of men.' So we sail on into the big storm. 
 For long we sail, and though once it turn, always the great wind blew, 
 behind us. You grow weak and your mind leave you, but I keep you alive 
 with medicine that I have and for many days I stay awake and steer. Then 
 at last my mind leave me, too, and I know no more. Three days ago I wake 
 up and find the ship in this place. Then I eat more medicine and get 
 strength, also food from people on the shore who think us gods. That all 
 the story, except that you live, not die. Your God and my God bring us 
 here safe." 
   
 "Yes, Kari, but where are we?" 
   
 "Master, I think in that country from which I come; not in my own land 
 which is still far away, but still in that country. You remember," he 
 added with a flash of his dark eyes, "I always say that you and I go 
 there together one day." 
   
 "But what is the country, Kari?" 
   
 "Master, not know its name. It big and have many names, but you first 
 white man who ever come here, that why people think you God. Now you go 
 sleep again; to-morrow we talk." 
   
 I shut my eyes, being so very tired, and as I learned afterwards, slept 
 for twelve hours or more, to awake on the morning of the following day, 
 feeling wonderfully stronger and able to eat with appetite. Also Kari 
 brought me water and washed me, and clean clothes which he had found in 
 the ship that I put on. 
   
 Thus it went on for a long while and day by day I recovered strength 
 till at length I was almost as I had been when I married Blanche Aleys 
 in the church of St. Margaret at Westminster. Only now sorrow had 
 changed me within and without my face had grown more serious, while 
 to it hung a short yellow beard which, when I looked at my reflection, 
 seemed to become me well enough. That beard puzzled me much, since 
 such are not grown in a day, although it is true that as yet it was not 
 over-long. Weeks must have passed since it began to sprout upon my chin 
 and as we had been but three days in this place when I woke up, those 
 weeks without doubt were spent upon the sea. 
   
 Whither, then, had we come? Driving all the while before a great gale, 
 that for most of our voyage had blown from the east, as, if Kari were 
 right, we had done, this country must be very far away from England. 
 That it was so, indeed there could be no doubt, since here everything 
 was different. For example, having been a mariner from my childhood, I 
 had been taught and observed something of the stars, and noted that the 
 constellations had changed their places in the heavens, also that 
 some with which I was familiar were missing, while other new ones had 
 appeared. Further, the heat was great and constant, even at night 
 being more than that of our hottest summer day, and the air was full of 
 stinging insects, which at first troubled me much, though afterwards 
 I grew hardened to them. In short, everything was changed, and I was 
 indeed in a new world that was not told of in Europe, but what world? 
 What world? At least the sea joined it to the old, for beneath me was 
 still the _Blanche_, which timber by timber I had seen built up upon the 
 shores of Thames from oaks cut in my own woods. 
   
 As soon as I was strong enough, I went over the ship, or what was left 
 of her. It was a marvel that she had floated for so long, since her hull 
 was shattered. Indeed, I do not think she could have done so, save for 
 the fine wool that was packed into the lower part of her, which wool 
 seemed to have swollen when it grew wet and to have kept the water out. 
 For the rest she was but a hulk, since both her masts were gone, and 
 much of the deck with them. Still she had kept afloat and driving into 
 this creek, had beached herself upon the mud as though it were the 
 harbour that she sought. 
   
 How had we lived through such a journey? The answer seemed to be, after 
 we were too weak to find or take food, by means of the drug that Kari 
 cherished in his skin bag, and water of which there was plenty left at 
 hand in barrels, since the _Blanche_ had been provisioned for a long 
 voyage to Italy and farther. At least we had lived for weeks, and weeks, 
 being still young and very strong, and not having been called upon 
 to suffer great cold, since it would appear that although the gale 
 continued after the first few days of our flight before it, the weather 
 had turned warm. 
   
 During this time of my recovery, every morning Kari would go ashore, 
 which he did by means of planks set upon the mud, since we were within 
 a few feet of the bank of the creek into which a streamlet ran. Later 
 he would return, bringing with him fish and wildfowl, and corn of a 
 sort that I did not know, for its grains were a dozen times the size of 
 wheat, flat-sided, and if ripe, of a yellow colour, which he said he 
 had purchased from those who dwelt upon the land. On this good food 
 I feasted, washing it down with ale and wine from the ship's stores; 
 indeed never before did I eat so much, not even when I was a boy. 
   
 At length, one morning Kari made me put on my armour, the same which I 
 had taken from the French knight, and fled in from London, that he had 
 burnished till it shone like silver, and seat myself in a chair upon 
 what remained of the poop of the ship. When I asked him why, he answered 
 in order that he might show me to the inhabitants of that land. In this 
 chair he bade me sit and wait, holding the shield upon my arm and the 
 bare sword in my right hand. 
   
 As I had come to know that Kari never did anything without a reason and 
 remembered that I was in a strange country where, lacking him, I should 
 not have lived or could continue to do so, I fell into his humour. 
 Moreover, I promised that I would remain still and neither speak, 
 nor smile, nor rise from my chair unless he bade me. So there I sat 
 glittering in the hot sunshine which burned me through the armour. 
   
 Then Kari went ashore and was absent for some time. At length among the 
 trees and undergrowth I heard the sound of people talking in a strange 
 tongue. Presently they appeared on the bank of the creek, a great number 
 of them, very curious people, brown-skinned with long, lank black hair 
 and large eyes, but not over-tall in stature; men, women and children 
 together. 
   
 Among them were some who wore white robes whom I took to be their 
 gentlefolk, but the most of them had only cloths or girdles about their 
 middles. Leading the throng was Kari, who, as it appeared from the 
 bushes, waved his hand and pointed me out seated in the shining armour 
 on the ship, the visor up to show my face and the long sword in my hand. 
 They stared, then, with a low, sighing exclamation, one and all fell 
 upon their faces and rubbed their brows upon the ground. 
   
 As they lay there Kari addressed them, waving his arms and pointing 
 towards me from time to time. Afterwards I learned that he was telling 
 them I was a god, for which lie may his soul be forgiven. 
   
 The end of it was that he bade them rise and led certain of them who 
 wore the white robes across the planks to the ship. Here, while they 
 hung back, he advanced towards me, bowing and kissing the air till 
 he drew near, then he went upon his knees and laid his hands upon my 
 steel-clad feet. More, from the bosom of his robe he drew out flowers 
 which he placed upon my knees as though in offering. 
   
 "Now, Master," he whispered to me, "rise and wave your sword and shout 
 aloud, to show that you are alive and not an image." 
   
 So up I sprang, circling Wave-Flame about my head and roaring like any 
 bull of Bashan, for my voice was always loud and carried far. When 
 they saw the bright sword whirling through the air and heard these 
 bellowings, uttering cries of fear, those poor folk fled. Indeed most of 
 them fell from the plank into the mud, where one stuck fast and was like 
 to drown, had not Kari rescued him, which his brethren were in too great 
 haste to do. 
   
 After they had gone Kari came and said that everything went well and 
 that henceforward I was not a man but the Spirit of the Sea come to 
 earth, such a spirit as had never been dreamed of even by the wizards. 
   
   
   
 Thus then did Hubert of Hastings become a god among those simple people, 
 who had never before so much as heard of a white man, or seen armour or 
 a sword of steel. 
   
   
   
 CHAPTER II 
   
 THE ROCKY ISLE 
   
 For another week or more I remained upon the _Blanche_ waiting till 
 my full strength returned, also because Kari said I must do so. When 
 I asked him why, he replied for the reason that he wished news of my 
 coming to spread far and wide throughout the land from one tribe to 
 another, which it would do with great swiftness, flying, as he put it, 
 like a bird. Meanwhile, every day I sat upon the poop in the armour for 
 an hour or more, and both these people and others from afar came to look 
 at me, bringing me presents in such quantity that we knew not what to do 
 with them. Indeed, they built an altar and sacrificed wild creatures to 
 me, and birds, burning them with fire. Both those that I had seen and 
 the other folk from a long way off made this offering. 
   
 At last one night, when, having eaten, Kari and I were seated together 
 in the moonshine before we slept, I turned on him suddenly, hoping thus 
 to surprise the truth out of his secret heart, and said: 
   
 "What is your plan, Kari? For, know, I weary of this life." 
   
 "I was waiting for the Master to ask that question," he replied with 
 his gentle smile. (Again, I give not the very words he spoke in his bad 
 English, but the substance of them.) "Now will the Master be pleased to 
 listen? As I have told the Master, I believe that the gods, his God and 
 my God, have brought me back to that part of the world which is unknown 
 to the Master, where I was born. I believed this from the first hour 
 that my eyes opened on it after our swoon, for I knew the trees and 
 the flowers and the smell of the earth, and saw that the stars in the 
 heavens stood where I used to see them. When I went ashore and mingled 
 with the natives, I discovered that this belief was right, since I could 
 understand something of their talk and they could understand something 
 of mine. Moreover, among them was a man who came from far away, who said 
 that he had seen me in past years, wandering like one mad, only that 
 this man whom he had seen wore the image of a certain god about his 
 neck, whose name was too high for him to mention. Then I opened my robe 
 and showed him that which I wear about my neck, and he fell down and 
 worshipped it, crying out that I was the very man." 
   
 "If so, it is marvellous," I said. "But what shall we do?" 
   
 "The Master can do one of two things. He can stop here, where these 
 simple people will make him their king and give him wives and all that 
 he desires, and so live out his life, since of return to the land whence 
 he came there is no hope." 
   
 "And if there were I would not go," I interrupted. 
   
 "Or," went on Kari, "he can try to travel to my country. But that is 
 very far away. Something of the journey which I made when I was mad 
 comes back and tells me that it is very, very far away. First, yonder 
 mountains must be crossed till another sea is reached, which is no 
 great journey, though rough. Then the coast of that sea must be followed 
 southward, for I know not how far, but, as I think, for months or years 
 of journeying, till at length the country of my people is reached. 
 Moreover, that journeying is hard and terrible, since the road runs 
 through forests and deserts where dwell savage tribes and huge snakes 
 and wild beasts, like those planted on the flag of your country, and 
 where famine and sicknesses are common. Therefore my counsel to the 
 Master is that he should leave it unattempted." 
   
 Now I thought awhile, and asked what he meant to do if I took this 
 counsel of his. To which he replied: 
   
 "I shall wait here awhile till I see the Master made a king among these 
 people and established in his rule. Then I shall start on that journey 
 alone, hoping that what I could do when I was mad I shall be able to do 
 again when I am not mad." 
   
 "I thought it," I said. "But tell me, Kari, if we were to make this 
 journey and perchance live to reach your people, how would they welcome 
 us?" 
   
 "I do not know, Master; but I think that of the master they would make 
 a god, as will all the other people of this country. Perhaps, too, they 
 will sacrifice this god that his strength and beauty may enter into 
 them. As for me, some of them will try to kill me and others will cling 
 to me. Who will conquer I do not know, and to me it matters little. I 
 go to take my own and to be avenged, and if in seeking vengeance I 
 die--well, I die in honour." 
   
 "I understand," I said. "And now, Kari, let us start as soon as possible 
 before I become as mad from staring at those trees and flowers and those 
 big-eyed natives, that you say would make me a king, as you tell me you 
 were when you left your country. Whether we shall ever find that country 
 I cannot say. But at least we shall have done our best and, if we fail, 
 shall perish seeking, as in this way or in that it is the lot of all 
 brave men to do." 
   
 "The Master has spoken," said Kari, even more quietly than usual, though 
 as he spoke I saw his dark eyes flash and a trembling as of joy run down 
 his body. "Knowing all, he has made his choice, and whatever happens, 
 being what it is, he will not blame me. Yet because the Master has thus 
 chosen, I say this--that if we reach my country, and if, perchance, 
 I become a king there, even more than before I shall be the Master's 
 servant." 
   
 "That is easy to promise now, Kari, but it will be time to talk of it 
 when we do reach your land," I said, laughing, and asked him when we 
 were to start. 
   
 He replied not yet awhile, as he must make plans, and that in the 
 meantime I must walk upon the shore so that my legs might grow strong 
 again. So there every day I walked in the cool of the morning and in the 
 evening, not going out of sight of the wreck. I went armed and carrying 
 my big bow, but saw no one, since the natives had been warned that I 
 should walk and must not be looked upon while I did so. Therefore, even 
 when I passed through one of their villages of huts built of mud and 
 thatched with leaves, it seemed to be deserted. 
   
 Still, in the end the bow did not come amiss, for one evening, hearing a 
 little noise in a big tree under which I was about to pass that reminded 
 me of the purring of a cat, I looked up and saw a great beast of the 
 tiger sort lying on the bough of the tree and watching me. Then I drew 
 the bow and sent an arrow through that beast, piercing it from side to 
 side, and down it came roaring and writhing, and biting at the arrow 
 till it died. 
   
 After this I returned to the ship and told Kari what had happened. He 
 said it was fortunate I had killed the beast, which was of a very fierce 
 kind, and if I had not seen it, would have leapt on me as I passed under 
 the tree. Also he sent natives to skin it who when they saw that it was 
 pierced through and through by the arrow, were amazed and thought me an 
 even greater god than before, their own bows being but feeble and their 
 arrows tipped with bone. 
   
   
   
 Three days after the killing of this beast we started on our journey 
 into a land unknown. For a long while before Kari and I had been engaged 
 in collecting all the knives we could find in the ship, also arrows, 
 nails, axes, tools of carpentering, clothes, and I know not what else 
 besides, which goods we tied up in bundles wrapped in sailcloth, each 
 bundle weighing from thirty to forty pounds, to serve as presents to 
 natives or to trade away with them. When I asked who would carry them, 
 Kari answered that I should see. This I did at dawn on the following 
 morning when there arrived upon the shore a great number of men, quite 
 a hundred indeed, who brought with them two litters made of light wood 
 jointed like reeds, only harder, in which Kari said he and I were to be 
 carried. Among these men he parcelled out the loads which they were to 
 bear upon their heads, and then said that it was time for us to start in 
 the litters. 
   
 So we started, but first I went down into a cabin and kneeling on my 
 knees, thanked God for having brought me safe so far, and prayed Him 
 and St. Hubert to protect me on my further wanderings, and if I died, to 
 receive my soul. This done I left the ship and while the natives bowed 
 themselves about me, entered my litter, which was comfortable enough, 
 having grass mats to lie on and other mats for curtains, very finely 
 woven, so that they would turn even the heaviest rain. 
   
 Then away we went, eight men bearing the pole to which each litter was 
 slung on their shoulders, while others carried the bundles upon their 
 heads. Our road ran through forest uphill, and on the crest of the first 
 hill I descended from the litter and looked back. 
   
 There in the creek below lay the wreck of the _Blanche_, now but a small 
 black blot showing against the water, and beyond it the great sea over 
 which we had travelled. Yonder broken hulk was the last link which bound 
 me to my distant home thousands of miles across the ocean, that home, 
 which my heart told me I should never see again, for how could I win 
 back from a land that no white foot had ever trod? 
   
 On the deck of this ship Blanche herself had stood and smiled and 
 talked, for once we visited it together shortly before our marriage, and 
 I remembered how I had kissed her in its cabin. Now Blanche was dead 
 by her own hand and I, the great London merchant, was an outcast among 
 savages in a country of which I did not even know the name, where 
 everything was new and different. And there the ship with her rich 
 cargo, after bearing us so bravely through weeks of tempest, must lie 
 until she rotted in the sun and rain and never again would my eyes 
 behold her. Oh! then it was that a sense of all my misery and loneliness 
 gripped my heart as it had not done before since I rode away after 
 killing Deleroy with the sword Wave-Flame, and I wondered why I had been 
 born, and almost hoped that soon I might die and go to seek the reason. 
   
 Back into the litter I crept and there hid my face and wept like a 
 child. Truly I, the prosperous merchant of London town who might have 
 lived to become its mayor and magistrate and win nobility, was now an 
 outcast adventurer of the humblest. Well, so God had decreed, and there 
 was no more to say. 
   
 That night we encamped upon a hilltop past which rushed a river in the 
 vale below and were troubled with heat and insects that hummed and bit, 
 for to these as yet I was not accustomed, and ate of the food that we 
 had brought with us, dried flesh and corn. 
   
 Next morning with the light we started on again, up and down mountains 
 and through more forests, following the course of the river and the 
 shores of a lake. So it went on until on the third evening from high 
 land we saw the sea beneath us, a different sea from that which we had 
 left, for it seemed that we had been crossing an isthmus, not so wide 
 but that if any had the skill, a canal might be cut across it joining 
 those two great seas. 
   
 Now it was that our real travels began, for here, after staring at the 
 stars and brooding apart for a long while, Kari turned southwards. With 
 this I had nothing to do who did not greatly care which way he turned. 
 Nor did he speak to me of the matter, except to say that his god and 
 such memory as remained to him through his time of madness told him that 
 the land of his people lay towards the south, though very far away. 
   
 So southwards we went, following paths through the forests with the 
 ocean on our right hand. After a week of this wearisome marching we came 
 to another tribe of natives of whose talk those with us could understand 
 enough to tell them our story. Indeed the rumour that a white god 
 had appeared in the land out of the sea had already reached them, and 
 therefore they were prepared to worship me. Here our people left us, 
 saying that they dared not go further from their own country. 
   
 The scene of the departure was strange, since every one of them came and 
 rubbed his forehead in the dust before me and then went away, walking 
 backwards and bowing. Still their going did not make a great difference 
 to us, since the new tribe was much as the old one, though if anything, 
 rather less clothed and more dirty. Also it accepted me as a god without 
 question and gave us all the food we needed. Moreover, when we left 
 their land men were provided to carry the litters and the loads. 
   
 Thus, then, passing from tribe to tribe, we travelled on southward, ever 
 southwards, finding always that the rumour of the coming of "the god" 
 had gone before us. So gentle were all these people, that not once did 
 we meet with any who tried to harm us or to steal our goods, or who 
 refused us the best of what they had. Our adventures, it is true, were 
 many. Thus, twice we came to tribes that were at war with other tribes, 
 though on my appearance they laid down their arms, at any rate, for a 
 time, and bore our litters forward. 
   
 Again, sometimes we met tribes who were cannibals and then we suffered 
 much from want of meat, since we dared not touch their food unless it 
 were grain. In the town of the first of these cannibal people, being 
 moved with fury, I killed a man whom I found about to murder a child and 
 eat her, sweeping off his head with my sword. For this deed I expected 
 that they would murder us, but they did not. They only shrugged their 
 shoulders and saying that a god can do as he pleases, took away the 
 slain man and ate him. 
   
 Sometimes our road ran through terrible forests where the great trees 
 shut out the light of day, and a path must be hacked through the 
 undergrowth. Sometimes it was haunted by tigers or tree lions such as I 
 have spoken of, against which we must watch continuously, especially 
 at night, keeping the brutes off by means of fires. Sometimes we were 
 forced to wade great rivers, or worse still, to walk over them on 
 swaying bridges made of cables of twisted reeds that until I grew 
 accustomed to them caused my head to swim, though never did I permit 
 myself to show fear before the natives. Again, once we came to swampy 
 lands that were full of snakes which terrified me much, especially after 
 I had seen some natives whom they bit, die within a few minutes. 
   
 Other snakes there were also, as thick as a man's body, and four or five 
 paces in length, which lived in trees and killed their food by coiling 
 round it and pressing it to death. These snakes, it was said, would take 
 men in this fashion, though I never saw one of them do so. At any rate, 
 they were terrible to look on, and reminded me of their forefather 
 through whose mouth Satan talked with Mother Eve in the Garden of Eden, 
 and thus brought us all to woe. 
   
 Once, too, on the bank of a great river, I saw such a snake that at 
 the sight of it my knees knocked together. By St. Hubert, the beast was 
 sixty feet or more in length; its head was of the bigness of a barrel, 
 and its skin was of all the colours of the rainbow. Moreover, it seemed 
 to hold me with its eyes, for till it slipped away into the river I 
 could not move a foot. 
   
 Month after month we travelled thus, covering a matter of perhaps five 
 miles a day, since sometimes the country was open and we crossed it with 
 speed. Yet although our dangers were so many, strangely enough, during 
 all this time, even in that heat neither of us fell sick, as I think 
 because of the herb which Kari carried in his bag, that I found was 
 named _Coca_, whereof we obtained more as we went and ate from time to 
 time. Nor did we ever really suffer from starvation, since when we were 
 hungry we took more of this herb which supported us until we could 
 find food. These mercies I set down to the good offices of St. Hubert 
 watching from Heaven over me, his poor namesake and godson, though 
 perhaps the skill and courage of Kari which provided against everything 
 had something to do with them. 
   
 At length, in the ninth month of our travelling, as Kari reckoned it by 
 means of knots which he tied on pieces of native string, for I had long 
 lost count of time, we came to the borders of a great desert that the 
 natives said stretched southwards for a hundred leagues and more and 
 was without water. Moreover, to the east of this desert rose a chain 
 of mountains bordered by precipices up which no man could climb. Here, 
 therefore, it seemed as though our journey must end, since Kari had no 
 knowledge of how he crossed or went round this desert in his madness of 
 bygone years, if indeed he ever travelled that road at all, a matter of 
 which I was not certain. 
   
 For a week or more we remained among the tribe that lived in a beautiful 
 watered valley upon the borders of this desert, wondering what we should 
 do. For my part I was by now so tired of travelling upon an endless 
 quest that I should have been glad to stay among that tribe, a very 
 gentle and friendly people, who like all the rest believed me to be a 
 god, and make my home there till I died. But this was not Kari's mind, 
 which was set fiercely upon winning back to his own country that he 
 believed to lie towards the south. 
   
 Day by day we sat there regaining our strength upon the good food of 
 that valley, and staring first at the desert to the south, then at the 
 precipices on our left hand, and lastly at the ocean upon our right. 
 Now this people, I should say, drew their wealth from the sea as well as 
 from the land, since they were great fishermen and went out upon it in 
 rude boats or rafts made of a wooden frame to which were lashed blown-up 
 skins and bundles of dried reeds. Upon these boats, frail as they 
 seemed, such as further south were called balsas, they made considerable 
 journeys to distant islands where they caught vast quantities of fish, 
 some of which they used to manure their land. Moreover, besides the 
 oars, they rigged a square cotton sail upon the balsas which enabled 
 them to run before the wind without labour, steering the craft by means 
 of a paddle at the stern. 
   
 While we were there I observed that on the springing up of a wind from 
 the north, although it was of no great strength, the _balsas_ all came 
 to shore and were drawn up out of reach of the waves. When I inquired 
 why through Kari, the answer given was because the fishing season was 
 over, since that wind from the north would blow for a long time without 
 changing and those who went out in it upon the sea might be driven 
 southwards to return no more. They stated, indeed, that often this had 
 happened to venturesome men who had vanished away and been lost. 
   
 "If you wish to travel south, there is a way of doing so," I said to 
 Kari. 
   
 At the time he made no answer, but on the following day asked me 
 suddenly if I dared attempt such a journey. 
   
 "Why not?" I answered. "It is as easy to die in the water as on land and 
 I weary of journeying through endless swamps and forests or of crossing 
 torrents and climbing mountain ridges." 
   
 The end of it was that for a knife and a few nails Kari purchased the 
 largest _balsa_ that these people had, provisioning it with as much 
 dried fish, corn and water in earthenware jars as it would carry 
 together with ourselves, and such of our remaining goods as we wished to 
 take with us. Then we announced that I, the god who had come out of the 
 sea, desired to return into the sea with himself, my servant. 
   
 So on a certain fine morning when the wind was blowing steadily but not 
 too strongly from the north, we embarked upon that _balsa_ while the 
 simple savages made obeisance with wonder in their eyes, hoisted the 
 square canvas, and sailed away upon what I suppose was one of the 
 maddest voyages ever made by man. 
   
 Although it was so clumsy the _balsa_ moved through the water at a good 
 rate, covering quite two leagues the hour, I should say, before that 
 strong and steady wind. Soon the village that we had left vanished; then 
 the mountains behind it grew dim and in time vanished also, and there 
 remained nothing but the great wilderness upon our left and the vast 
 sea around. Steering clear of the land so as to avoid sunken rocks, we 
 sailed on all that day and all the night that followed, and when the 
 light came again perceived that we were running past a coastline that 
 was backed by high mountains on some of which lay snow. By the second 
 evening these mountains had become tremendous, and between them I saw 
 valleys down which ran streams of water. 
   
 Thus we went on for three days and nights, the wind from the north 
 blowing all the while and the _balsa_ taking no hurt, by the end of 
 which time I reckon that we had travelled as far along the coast as we 
 had done in six months when we journeyed over land, at which I rejoiced. 
 Kari rejoiced also, because he said that the shape and greatness of the 
 mountains we were passing reminded him of those of his own country, to 
 which he believed that we were drawing near. 
   
 On the fourth morning, however, our troubles began, since the friendly 
 wind from the north grew steadily stronger, till at length it rose to a 
 gale. Soon our little rag of canvas was torn away, but still we rushed 
 on before the following seas at a very great speed. 
   
 Now I thought of trying to make the land, but found that we could not do 
 so with the oars, because of the current that set out towards the ocean 
 against which it was impossible to urge our clumsy craft. Therefore we 
 must content ourselves with trying to keep her head straight with the 
 steering oar, but even then we were often whirled round and round. 
   
 About two hours after noon the sky clouded over, and there burst upon us 
 a great thunder-storm with torrents of rain; also the wind grew stronger 
 and stronger. 
   
 Now we could no longer steer or do anything except lie flat upon 
 the bottom of the _balsa_, gripping the cords with which it was tied 
 together, to save ourselves from being washed overboard, since often 
 the foaming crests of the waves broke upon us. Indeed, it was marvellous 
 that this frail craft should hang together at all, but owing to the 
 lightness of the reeds and the blown-up skins that were tied in them, 
 still she floated and, whirling round and round, sped upon her southward 
 path. Yet I knew that this could not endure for very long, and committed 
 my soul to God as well as I was able in my half-drowned state, wishing 
 that my miseries were ended. 
   
 The darkness came down, but still the thunder roared and the lightning 
 blazed, and by the flare of it I caught sight of snow-capped mountains 
 far away upon the coast, also of Kari clinging to the reeds of the 
 _balsa_ at my side, and from time to time kissing the golden image of 
 Pachacamac which hung about his neck. Presently he set his lips against 
 my ear and shouted: 
   
 "Be bold! Our gods are still with us in storm." 
   
 "Yes," I answered, "and soon we shall be with our gods--in peace." 
   
 After this I heard no more of him, and fell to thinking with such wits 
 as were left to me of how many perils we had passed since we saw the 
 shores of Thames, and that it seemed sad that all should have been for 
 nothing, since it would have been better to die at the beginning than 
 now at the end, after so much misery. Then the glare of the lightning 
 shone upon the handle of the sword Wave-Flame, which was still strapped 
 about me, and I remembered the rune written upon it which my mother had 
 rendered to me upon the morning of the fight against the Frenchmen. How 
 did it run? 
   
      He who lifts Wave-Flame on high 
      In love shall live and in battle die. 
      Storm-tossed o'er wide seas shall roam 
      And in strange lands shall make his home. 
      Conquering, conquered shall he be 
      And far away shall sleep with me. 
   
 It fitted well, though of the love I had known little and that most 
 unhappy, and the battle in which I must die was one with water. Also, 
 I had conquered nothing who myself was conquered by Fate. In short, the 
 thing could be read two ways, like all prophecies, and only one line of 
 it was true beyond a doubt--namely, that Wave-Flame and I should sleep 
 together. 
   
 Awhile later the lightning shone awesomely, like to the swords of a 
 whole army of destroying angels, so that the sky became alive with fire. 
 In its light for an instant I saw ahead of us great breakers, and beyond 
 them what looked like a dark mass of land. Now we were in them, for 
 the first of those hungry, curling waves got a hold of the _balsa_ and 
 tossed it up dizzily, then flung it down into a deep valley of water. 
 Another came and another, till my senses reeled and went. I cried to 
 St. Hubert, but he was a land saint and could not help me; so I cried to 
 Another greater than he. 
   
 My last vision was of myself riding a huge breaker as though it were a 
 horse. Then there came a crash and darkness. 
   
   
   
 Lo! it seemed to me as though one were calling me back from the depths 
 of sleep. With trouble I opened my eyes only to shut them again because 
 of the glare of the light. Then after a while I sat up, which gave me 
 pain, for I felt as if I had been beaten all over, and looked once more. 
 Above me shone the sun in a sky of deepest blue; before me was the sea 
 almost calm, while around were rocks and sand, among which crawled great 
 reptiles that I knew for turtles, as I had seen many of them in our 
 wanderings. Moreover, kneeling at my side, with the sword that he had 
 taken from the body of Deleroy still strapped about him, was Kari, 
 who bled from some wound and was almost white with encrusted salt, but 
 otherwise seemed unharmed. I stared at him, unable to open my mouth from 
 amazement, so it was he who spoke the first, saying, in a voice that had 
 a note of triumph in it: 
   
 "Did I not tell you that the gods were with us? Where is your faith, 
 O White Man! Look! They have brought me back to the land of which I am 
 Prince." 
   
 Now there was that in Kari's tone which in my weak state angered me. 
 Why did he scold me about faith? Why did he address me as "White Man" 
 instead of "Master"? Was it because he had reached a country where he 
 was great and I was nothing? I supposed so, and answered; 
   
 "And are these your subjects, O noble Kari?" and I pointed to the 
 crawling turtles. "And is this the rich and wondrous land where gold and 
 silver are as mud?" and I pointed to the barren rocks and sand around. 
   
 He smiled at my jest, and answered more humbly: 
   
 "Nay, Master, yonder is my land." 
   
 Then I looked, following his glance, and saw many leagues way across the 
 water two snowclad peaks rising above a bank of clouds. 
   
 "I know those mountains," he went on; "without doubt they are one of the 
 gateways of my land." 
   
 "Then we might as well be in London for all the hope we have of passing 
 that gate, Kari. But tell me what has chanced." 
   
 "This, I think. A very great wave caught us and threw us right over 
 those rocks on to the shore. Look--there is the _balsa_," and he pointed 
 to a broken heap of reeds and pierced skins. 
   
 With his help I rose and went to it. Now none could know that it had 
 been a boat. Still, the _balsa_ it was and nothing else, and tied in its 
 tangled mass still remained those things which we had brought with us, 
 such as my black bow and armour, though all the jars were broken. 
   
 "It has borne us well, but will never bear us again," I said. 
   
 "That is so, Master. But if we were in my own country yonder I would set 
 its fragments in a case of gold and place them in the Temple of the Sun 
 as a memorial." 
   
 Then we went to a pool of rainwater that lay in a hollow rock near by, 
 and drank our fill, for we were very thirsty. Also among the ruins of 
 the _balsa_ we found some of the dried fish that was left to us, and 
 having washed it, filled ourselves. After this we limped to the crest of 
 the land behind and perceived that we were on a little island, perhaps 
 two hundred English acres in extent, whereon nothing grew except some 
 coarse grass. This island, however, was the haunt of great numbers of 
 seafowl which nested there, also of the turtles that I have mentioned, 
 and of certain beasts like seals or otters. 
   
 "At least we shall not starve," I said, "though in the dry season we may 
 die of thirst." 
   
   
   
 Now there on that island we remained for four long months. For food we 
 ate the turtles, which we cooked over fires that Kari made by cunningly 
 twirling a pointed piece of driftwood in the hollow of another piece 
 that he filled with the dust of dried grass. Had he lacked that 
 knowledge we must have starved or lived on raw flesh. As it was, we had 
 plenty with this meat and that of birds and their eggs, also of fish 
 that we caught in the pools when the tide was down. From the shells of 
 the turtles, by the help of stones, we built us a kind of hut to 
 keep off the sun and the rain, which in that hot place was sufficient 
 shelter; also, when the stench was out of them, we used other shells in 
 which to catch rainwater that we stored as best we could against seasons 
 of drought. Lastly, with my big bow which was saved with the armour, I 
 shot sea-otters, and from their pelts we made us garments after rubbing 
 the skins with turtle fat and handling them to make them soft. 
   
 Thus, then, we lived from moon to moon upon that desert place, till I 
 thought I should go mad with loneliness and despair, for no help came 
 near us. There were the mountains of the mainland far away, but between 
 them and us stretched leagues of sea that we could not swim, nor had we 
 anything of which to make a boat. 
   
 "Here we must remain until we die!" at last I cried in my wretchedness. 
   
 "Nay," answered Kari, "our gods are still with us and will save us in 
 their season." 
   
   
   
 This, indeed, they did in a strange fashion. 
   
   
   
 CHAPTER III 
   
 THE DAUGHTER OF THE MOON 
   
 For the fourth time since we were cast away on this island the huge full 
 moon shone in a sky of wondrous blue. Kari and I watched it rise between 
 the two snow-clad peaks far away that he had called a gateway to his 
 land, which was so near to us and yet it would seem more distant than 
 Heaven itself. Heaven we might hope to reach upon the wings of spirit 
 when we died, but to that country how could we come? 
   
 We watched that great moon climb higher and higher up a ladder of little 
 bar-like clouds, till wearying we let our eyes fall upon the glittering 
 pathway which its light made upon the bosom of the placid sea. Suddenly 
 Kari stared and stared. 
   
 "What is it?" I asked idly. 
   
 "I thought I saw something yonder far away where Quilla's footsteps make 
 the waters bright," he said, speaking in his own language in which now 
 we often talked together. 
   
 "Quilla's?" I exclaimed. "Oh! I forgot: that is the lady moon's name in 
 your tongue, is it not? Well, come, Quilla, and I will wed and worship 
 you, as 'tis said the ancients did, and never turn to look upon another, 
 be she woman, or goddess, or both. Only come and take me from this 
 accursed isle and in payment I'll die for you, if need be, when first 
 I've taught you how to love as star or woman never loved before." 
   
 "Hush!" said Kari in a grave voice, when he had listened to this mad 
 stuff that burst through my lips from the spring of a mind distraught by 
 misery and despair. 
   
 "Why should I hush?" I asked. "Is it not pleasant to think of the moon 
 wearing a lovely woman's shape and descending to give a lonely mortal 
 love and comfort?" 
   
 "Because, Master, to me and my people the moon is a goddess who hears 
 prayer and answers it. Suppose, then, that she heard you and answered 
 you and came to you and claimed your love, what then?" 
   
 "Why, then, friend Kari," I raved on, "then I should welcome her, for 
 love goes a begging, ready as ripe fruit to be plucked by the first hand 
 if it be fair enough, ready to melt beneath the first lips if they be 
 warm enough. 'Tis said that it is the man who loves and the woman who 
 accepts the love. But that is not true. It is the man, Kari, who waits 
 to be loved and pays back just as much as is given to him, and no more, 
 like an honest merchant; for if he does otherwise, then he suffers for 
 it, as I have learned. Therefore, come, Quilla, and love as a Celestial 
 can and I swear that step by step I'll keep pace with you in flesh 
 and spirit through Heaven, or through Hell, since love I must have, or 
 death." 
   
 "I pray you, talk not so," said Kari again, in a frightened voice, 
 "since those words of yours come from the heart and will be heard. The 
 goddess is a woman, too, and what woman will turn from such a bait?" 
   
 "Let her take it, then. Why not?" 
   
 "Because, O friend, because _Quilla_ is wed to _Yuti_; the Moon is the 
 Sun's wife, and if the Sun grows jealous what will happen to the man who 
 has robbed the greatest of the world's gods?" 
   
 "I do not know and I do not care. If Quilla would but come and love me, 
 I'd take my chance of Yuti whom as a Christian I defy." 
   
 Kari shuddered at this blasphemy, then having once more scanned that 
 silver pathway on the waters, but without avail for the great fish 
 or drifting tree or whatever he had seen, was gone, prayed after his 
 fashion at night, to Pachacamac, Spirit of the Universe, or to the Sun 
 his servant, god of the world, I know not which, and rolling himself in 
 his rug of skins, crept into our little hut to sleep. 
   
 But as yet I did not sleep, for though Kari hated both, this talk of 
 
 
 
 love and women had stirred my blood and made me wakeful. So I took a 
 rough comb that I had fashioned from the shell of a turtle, and dragged 
 it through my long fair beard, which, growing fast, now hung down far 
 upon my breast, and through the curling hair that lay upon my shoulders, 
 for I had become as other wild men are, and sang to myself there by the 
 little fire which we kept burning day and night and tried to think of 
 happy things that never should I know again. 
   
 At length the fit passed and I grew weary and laid myself down by the 
 fire, for the night being so fine and warm I would not go into the hut, 
 and there sleep found me. 
   
 I dreamed in my sleep. I dreamed that a very beautiful woman who wore 
 upon her naked breast the emblem of the moon fashioned in crystal, stood 
 over me, looking down upon me with large dark eyes. And as she looked 
 she sighed. Thrice she sighed, each time more deeply than the last. Then 
 she knelt down by me--or so it seemed in my dream, and laid a tress of 
 her long dark hair against my yellow locks, as though she would match 
 them together. She did more, indeed--in my dream--for lifting that tress 
 of fragrant hair, she let it fall like thistledown across my face and 
 mouth, and then kissed the hair, for I felt her breath reach me through 
 its strands. 
   
 The dream ended thus, though I wished very much that it would go on, and 
 I felt as though it had gone away as such visions do. Awhile later, as I 
 suppose, I awoke quite suddenly, and opened my eyes. There, near to me, 
 glittering in the full light of the brilliant moon, stood the woman of 
 my dream, only now her naked breast was covered with a splendid cloak 
 broidered with silver, and on her dark locks was a feathered headdress 
 in front of which rose the crescent of the moon, likewise fashioned in 
 silver. Also in her hand she held a little silver spear. 
   
 I stared at her, for move I could not. Then remembering my crazy talk 
 with Kari, uttered one word, only one. It was--_Quilla_. 
   
 She bowed her head and answered in a voice soft as the murmur of the 
 wind through rushes, speaking in the rich language called Quichua that 
 Kari had taught me. In this tongue, as I have told, we talked together 
 for practice during our journeys and on the island. So that now I knew 
 it well. 
   
 "So indeed am I named after my mother, the 'Moon,'" she said. "But how 
 did you know it, O Wanderer, whose skin is white as the foam of the sea 
 and whose hair is yellow as the fine gold in the temples?" 
   
 "I think you must have told me when you knelt over me just now," I said. 
   
 I saw the red blood run to her brow, but she only shook her head, and 
 answered: 
   
 "Nay, my mother, the Moon, must have told you; or perchance you learned 
 it in the spirit. At least, Quilla am I named and you called me aright." 
   
 Now I stood up and stared at her, overcome by the strangeness of the 
 business, and she stared at me. A marvellously beautiful woman she was 
 in her dazzling robe and headdress, and lighter coloured than any native 
 I had seen, almost white, indeed, in the moonlight save for the copper 
 tinge that marked her race; tall, too, yet not over-tall; slim and 
 straight as an arrow, but high-breasted and round-limbed, and with a 
 wild grace in her movements like to that of a hawk upon the wing. Also 
 to my fancy in her face there was something more than common youthful 
 beauty, something spiritual, such as great artists show upon the carven 
 countenances of saints. 
   
 Indeed she might well have been one whose human blood was mixed with 
 some other alien strain--as she had called herself, a daughter of the 
 Moon. 
   
 A question rose to my lips and burst from them; it was: 
   
 "Tell me, O Quilla, are you wife or maid?" 
   
 "Maid am I," she answered, "yet one who is promised as a wife," and she 
 sighed, then went on quickly as though this matter were something of 
 which she did not wish to talk, "And tell me, O Wanderer, are you god or 
 man?" 
   
 Now I grew cunning and answered, 
   
 "I am a Son of the Sea as you are a Daughter of the Moon." 
   
 She turned her head and glanced at the radiance which lay upon the face 
 of the deep, then said as though to herself: 
   
 "The moon shines upon the sea and the sea mirrors back the moon, yet 
 they are far apart and never may draw near." 
   
 "Not so, O Quilla. Out of the sea does the moon rise and, her course 
 run, into the sea's white arms she sinks to sleep at last." 
   
 Again the red blood ran to her brow and her great eyes fell, those eyes 
 of which never before had I seen the like. 
   
 "It seems that they speak our tongue in the sea, and prettily," she 
 murmured, adding, "But is it not from and into Heaven that the Moon 
 rises and departs?" 
   
 At that moment to my grief our talk came to an end, for out of the 
 hut crept Kari. He rose to his feet and stood there as ever calm and 
 dignified, looking first at Quilla and then at me. 
   
 "What did I tell you, Master?" he said in English. "Did I not say that 
 prayers such as yours are answered? Lo! here is that Child of the Moon 
 for whom you sought, clothed in beauty and bringing her gifts of love 
 and woe." 
   
 "Yes," I exclaimed, "and I am glad that she is here. For the rest, were 
 she but mine, I think I should not grudge her price whate'er it be." 
   
 Quilla looked at Kari frowning over the spear that when he appeared she 
 had lifted, as though to defend herself, which in my case she had not 
 thought needful. 
   
 "So the sea breeds men of my own race also," she said, addressing him. 
 "Tell me, O Stranger, how did you and yonder white god come to this 
 isle?" 
   
 "Riding on the ocean billows, riding for thousands of leagues," he 
 answered. "And you, O Lady, how did you come to this isle?" 
   
 "Riding on the moonbeams," she replied, smiling, "I, the daughter of the 
 Moon, who am named Moon and wear her symbol on my brow." 
   
 "Did I not tell you so?" exclaimed Kari to me with a gloomy air. 
   
 Then Quilla went on: 
   
 "Strangers, I was out fishing with two of my maidens and we had drifted 
 far from land. As the sun sank I caught sight of the smoke of your fire, 
 and having been told that this isle was desert, my heart drew me to 
 discover who had lit it. So, though my maidens were afraid, hither 
 I sailed and paddled, and the rest you know. Hearken! I will declare 
 myself. I am the only child of Huaracha, King of the People of the 
 Chancas, born of his wife, a princess of the Inca blood who now has been 
 gathered to her Father, the Sun. I am here on a visit to my mother's 
 kinsman, Quismancu, the Chief of the Yuncas of the Coastlands, to whom 
 my father, the King, has sent an embassy on matters of which I know 
 nothing. Behind yonder rock is my _balsa_ and with it are the two 
 maidens. Say, is it your wish to bide here upon this isle, or to return 
 into the sea, or to accompany me back to the town of Quismancu? If so, 
 we must sail ere the weather breaks, lest we should be drowned." 
   
 "Certainly it is my wish to accompany you, Lady, though a god of the sea 
 cannot be drowned," I said quickly before Kari could speak. Indeed, he 
 did not speak at all, he only shrugged his shoulders and sighed, like 
 one who accepts some evil gift from Fate because he must. 
   
 "So be it!" exclaimed Quilla. "Now I go to make ready the _balsa_ and to 
 warn the maidens lest they be frightened. When you are prepared you will 
 find us yonder behind the rock." 
   
 Then she bowed in a stately fashion an departed, walking with the proud, 
 light step of a deer. 
   
 From our little hut I took out my armour and with Kari's help, put 
 it on, because he declared that thus it would be more easily carried, 
 though I think he had other reasons in his mind. 
   
 "Yes," I answered, "unless the _balsa_ oversets, when I shall find mail 
 hard to swim in." 
   
 "The _balsa_ will not overset, sailing beneath the moon with that 
 Moon-lady for a pilot," he replied heavily. "Had the sun been up, it 
 might have been different. Moreover, the path into a net is always wide 
 and easy." 
   
 "What net?" I asked. 
   
 "One that is woven of women's hair, I think. Already, if I mistake not, 
 such a net has been about your throat, Master, and next time it will 
 stay there. Hearken now to me. The gods thrust us into high matters. The 
 Yuncas of whose chief this lady is a guest are a great people whom my 
 people have conquered in war, but who wait the opportunity to rebel, 
 if they have not already done so. The Chancas, of those king she is the 
 daughter, are a still greater people who for years have threatened war 
 upon my people." 
   
 "Well, what of it, Kari? With such questions this lady will have nothing 
 to do." 
   
 "I think she has much to do with them. I think that she knows more than 
 she seems to know, and that she is an envoy from the Chancas to the 
 Yuncas. To whom is she affianced, I wonder? Some Great One, doubtless. 
 Well, we shall learn in time; and meanwhile, I pray you, Master, 
 remember that she says she _is_ affianced, and that in this land men are 
 very jealous even of a white god who rises from the sea." 
   
 "Of course I shall remember," I answered sharply. "Have I not had enough 
 of women who are affianced?" 
   
 "By your prayer of the moon this night, which the moon answered so well 
 and quickly, one might think not. Also this daughter of hers is fair, 
 and perchance when she gave her hand she kept her heart. Listen again, 
 Master. Of me and of whom I am, say nothing, save that you found me on 
 this island where I dwelt a hermit when you rose from the sea. As for 
 my name, why, it is Zapana. Remember that if you breathe my rank and 
 history, however much sweet lips may try to cozen them out of you, you 
 bring me to my death, who now do not wish to die, having a vengeance to 
 accomplish and a throne to win. Therefore treat me as a dog, as one of 
 no account, and be silent even in your sleep." 
   
 "I will remember, Kari." 
   
 "That is not enough--swear it." 
   
 "Good. I swear it--by the moon." 
   
 "Nay, not by the moon, for the moon is woman and changes. Swear it by 
 this," and from beneath his skin robe he drew out the golden image of 
 Pachacamac. "Swear it by the Spirit of the Universe, of whom Sun and 
 Moon and Stars are but servants, the Spirit whom all men worship in this 
 shape or in that." 
   
 So to please him I laid my hand upon the golden symbol and swore. Then, 
 very hurriedly, we made up a tale of how, clad in my armour, I had risen 
 from the sea and found him on the island, and how knowing me for a white 
 god who once in ages past had visited that land and who, as prophecy 
 foretold, should return to it in days to come, he had worshipped me and 
 become my slave. 
   
 This done we went down to the rock, Kari walking after me and bearing 
 all our small possessions and with them Deleroy's sword. Passing round 
 the rock we saw the _balsa_ drawn up to the sand, and by it the lady 
 Quilla, who now had put off her fine robes and again was attired as a 
 fishing-girl as I had seen her in my dream, and with her two tall girls 
 in the same scanty garments. When these saw me in the glittering armour, 
 which in our long idle hours we had polished till it shone like silver, 
 with the shield upon my arm and the casque upon my head and the great 
 sword girded about my middle and the black bow in my hand, they screamed 
 with fear and fell upon their faces, while even Quilla started back and 
 glanced towards the boat. 
   
 "Fear not," I said. "The gods are kind to those who do them service, 
 though to those who would harm them they are terrible." 
   
 Kari also went to them and whispered in their ears what tale I know not. 
 In the end they rose trembling, and having motioned to me to be seated 
 in it, with the help of Kari pushed the _balsa_, which I noted with joy 
 was large and well made, down into the sea. Then one by one they climbed 
 in, Quilla taking the steering-oar, while Kari and the two maidens 
 hoisted the little sail and paddled till we were clear of the island, 
 where the gentle wind caught the _balsa_. Then they shipped the paddles, 
 and although full laden, we sailed quietly towards the mainland. 
   
 Now I was at the bow of the _balsa_ and Quilla was at its stern, and 
 between us were the others, so that during all that long night's journey 
 I had no speech with her and must content myself with gazing over my 
 shoulder at her beauty as best I could, which was not well, because of 
 Kari, who ever seemed to come between my eyes and hers. 
   
 Thus the long hours went by till at length when we were near the land 
 the moon sank, and we sailed on through the twilight. Then came the 
 dawn, and there in front of us we saw the lovely strand green with palms 
 within a ring of snow-clad mountains, two of them the great peaks that 
 we had seen from our isle. 
   
 On the shore was a city of white, flat-roofed houses, and rising above 
 it, perchance the half of a mile from the sea, a hill four or five 
 hundred feet in height and terraced. On the top of the hill stood a 
 mighty building, painted red, that from the look of it I took to be one 
 of the churches of these people, in the centre of which gleamed great 
 doors that, as I found afterwards, were covered with plates of gold. 
   
 "Behold the temple of Pachacamac, Master," whispered Kari, bowing his 
 head and kissing the air in token of reverence. 
   
 By this time watchmen, who had been set there to search the sea or the 
 boat of Quilla, had noted our approach. They shouted and pointed to me 
 who sat in the prow clad in my armour upon which the sun glittered, then 
 began to run to and fro as though in fear or excitement, so that ere we 
 reached the shore a great crowd had gathered. Meanwhile, Quilla had put 
 on her silver-broidered mantle and her head-dress of feathers, crowned 
 with the crescent of the moon. As we touched the beach she came forward, 
 and for the first time during that night spoke to me saying: 
   
 "Remain here in the _balsa_, Lord, while I talk with these people, and 
 when I summon you be pleased to come. Fear not--none will harm you." 
   
 Then she sprang from the prow of the _balsa_ to the shore, followed by 
 her two maidens, who dragged it further up the beach, and went forward 
 to talk with certain white-robed men in the crowd. For a long while 
 she talked, turning now and again to point at me. At length these men, 
 accompanied by a number of others, ran forward. At first I thought they 
 meant mischief and grasped my sword-hilt, then, remembering what Quilla 
 had said, remained seated and silent. 
   
 Indeed, there was no cause for fear, for when the white-robed chiefs or 
 priests and their following were close to me, suddenly they prostrated 
 themselves and beat their heads upon the sand, from which I learned that 
 they, too, believed me to be a god. Thereon I bowed to them and, drawing 
 my sword--at the sight of which I saw them stare and shiver, for to 
 these people steel was unknown--held it straight up in front of me in my 
 right hand, the shield with the cognizance of the three arrows being on 
 my left arm. 
   
 Now all the men rose, and some of them of the humbler sort, creeping 
 to the _balsa_, suddenly seized it and lifted it on to their shoulders, 
 which, being but a light thing of reeds and blown-out skins, they could 
 do easily enough. Then, preceded by the chiefs, they advanced up the 
 beach into the town, I still remaining seated in the boat with Kari 
 crouching behind me. So strange was the business that almost I laughed 
 aloud, wondering what those grave merchants of the Cheap whom I had 
 known in London would think if they could see me thus. 
   
 "Kari," I said, without turning my head, "what are they going to do with 
 us? Set us in yonder temple to be worshipped with nothing to eat?" 
   
 "I think not, Master," answered Kari, "since there the lady Quilla could 
 not come to speak with you if she would. I think that they will take 
 you to the house of the king of this country where, I understand, she is 
 dwelling." 
   
 This, indeed, proved to be the case, for we were borne solemnly up the 
 main street of the town, that now was packed with thousands of people, 
 some of whom threw flowers before the feet of the bearers, bowing and 
 staring till I thought that their eyes would fall out, to a large, 
 flat-roofed house set in a walled courtyard. Passing through the gates 
 the bearers placed the _balsa_ on the ground and fell back. Then from 
 out of the door of the house appeared Quilla, accompanied by a tall, 
 stately looking man who wore a fine robe, and a woman of middle age also 
 gorgeously apparelled. 
   
 "O Lord," said Quilla, bowing, "behold my kinsman the _Caraca_" (which 
 is the name for a lesser sort of king) "of the Yuncas, named Quismancu, 
 and his wife, Mira." 
   
 "Hail, Lord Risen from the Sea!" cried Quismancu. "Hail, White God 
 clothed in silver! Hail, _Hurachi_!" 
   
 Why he called me "Hurachi" at the time I could not guess, but afterwards 
 I learned that it was because of the arrows painted on my shield, 
 _hurachi_ being their name for arrows. At any rate, thenceforth by this 
 name of Hurachi I was known throughout the land, though when addressed 
 for the most part I was called "Lord-from-the-Sea" or "God-of-the-Sea." 
   
 Then Quilla and the lady Mira came forward and, placing their hands 
 beneath my elbows, assisted me to climb out of that _balsa_, which I 
 think was the strangest way that ever a shipwrecked wanderer came to 
 land. 
   
 They led me into a large room with a flat roof that was being hastily 
 prepared for me by the hanging of beautiful broideries on the walls, 
 and sat me on a carven stool, where presently Quilla and other ladies 
 brought me food and a kind of intoxicating drink which they called 
 _chicha_, that after so many months of water drinking I found cheering 
 and pleasant to the taste. This food, I noted, was served to me on 
 platters of gold and silver, and the cups also were of gold strangely 
 fashioned, by which I knew that I had come to a very rich land. 
 Afterwards I learned, however, that in it there was no money, all the 
 gold and silver that it produced being used for ornament or to decorate 
 the temples and the palaces of the _Incas_, as they called their kings, 
 and other great lords. 
   
   
   
 CHAPTER IV 
   
 THE ORACLE OF RIMAC 
   
 In this town of Quismancu I remained for seven days, going abroad but 
 little, for when I did so the people pressed about me and stared me out 
 of countenance. There was a garden at the back of the hose surrounded 
 by a wall built of mud bricks. Here for the most part I sat and here the 
 great ones of the place came to visit me, bringing me offerings of robes 
 and golden vessels and I know not what besides. To all of them I told 
 the same story--or, rather, Kari told it for me--namely, that I had 
 risen out of the sea and found him a hermit, named Zapana, on the desert 
 island. What is more, they believed it and, indeed, it was true, for had 
 I not risen out of the sea? 
   
 From time to time Quilla came to see me also in this garden, bearing 
 gifts of flowers, and with her I talked alone. She would sit upon a 
 low stool, considering me with her beautiful eyes, as though she would 
 search out my soul. One day she said to me: 
   
 "Tell me, Lord, are you a god or a man?" 
   
 "What is a god?" I asked. 
   
 "A god is that which is adored and loved." 
   
 "And is a man never adored and loved, Quilla? For instance, I understand 
 that you are to be married, and doubtless you adore and love him who 
 will be your husband." 
   
 She shivered a little and answered: 
   
 "It is not so. I hate him." 
   
 "Then why are you going to marry him? Are you forced to do so, Quilla?" 
   
 "No, Lord. I marry him for my people's sake. He desires me for my 
 inheritance and my beauty, and by my beauty I may lead him down that 
 road on which my people wish that he should go." 
   
 "An old story, Quilla, but will you be happy thus?" 
   
 "No, Lord, I shall be very unhappy. But what does it matter? I am only a 
 woman, and such is the lot of women." 
   
 "Women, like gods and men, are also sometimes loved and adored, Quilla." 
   
 She flushed at the words and answered: 
   
 "Ah! if that were so life might be different. But even if it were so and 
 I found the man who could love and adore even for a year, for me it is 
 now too late. I am sworn away by an oath that may not be broken, for to 
 break it might bring death upon my people." 
   
 "To whom are you sworn?" 
   
 "To the Child of the Sun, no less a man; to the god who will be Inca of 
 all this land." 
   
 "And what is this god like?" 
   
 "They say that he is huge and swarthy, with a large mouth, and I know 
 that he has the heart of a brute. He is cruel and false also, and he 
 counts his women by the score. Yet his father, the Inca, loves him more 
 than any of his children, and ere long he will be king after him." 
   
 "And would you, who are sweet and lovely as the moon after which you are 
 named, give yourself body and soul to such a one?" 
   
 Again she flushed. 
   
 "Do my own ears hear the White-God-from-the-Sea call me sweet and lovely 
 as the moon? If so, I thank him, and pray him to remember that the 
 perfect and lovely are always chosen to be the sacrifice of gods." 
   
 "But, Quilla, the sacrifice may be all in vain. How long will you hold 
 the fancy of this loose-living prince?" 
   
 "Long enough to serve my purpose, Lord--or, at least," she added with 
 flashing eyes, "long enough to kill him if he will not go my country's 
 road. Oh! ask me no more, for your words stir something in my breast, 
 a new spirit of which I never dreamed. Had I heard them but three moons 
 gone, it might have been otherwise. Why did you not appear sooner from 
 the sea, my lord Hurachi, be you god or man?" 
   
 Then, with something like a sob, she rose, made obeisance, and fled 
 away. 
   
   
   
 That evening, when we were alone in my chamber where none could hear us, 
 I told Kari that Quilla was promised in marriage to a prince who would 
 be Inca of all the land. 
   
 "Is it so?" said Kari. "Well, learn, Master, that this prince is my 
 brother, he whom I hate, he who has done me bitter wrong, he who stole 
 away my wife and poisoned me. Urco is his name. Does this lady Quilla 
 love him?" 
   
 "I think not. I think that like you she hates him, yet will marry him 
 for reasons of policy." 
   
 "Doubtless she hates him now, whatever she did a week ago," said Kari in 
 a dry voice. "But what fruit will this tree bear? Master, are you minded 
 to come with me to-morrow to visit the temple of Pachacamac in the inner 
 sanctuary of which sits the god Rimac who speaks oracles?" 
   
 "For what purpose, Kari?" I answered moodily. 
   
 "That we may hear oracles, Master. I think that if you choose to go the 
 lady Quilla would come with us, since perhaps she would like also to 
 hear oracles." 
   
 "I will go if it can be done in secret, say at night, for I weary of 
 being stared at by these people." 
   
 This I said because I desired to learn of the religion of this nation 
 and to see new things. 
   
 "Perhaps it can be so ordered, Master. I will ask of the matter." 
   
 It seemed that Kari did ask, perhaps of the high priest of Pachacamac, 
 for between all the worshippers of this god there was a brotherhood; 
 perhaps of the lord Quismancu, or perhaps of Quilla herself--I do not 
 know. At least, on this same day Quismancu inquired whether it would 
 please me to visit the temple that night, and so the matter was settled. 
   
 Accordingly, after the darkness had fallen, two litters were brought 
 into which we entered, Quilla and a waiting woman seating themselves in 
 one of them and Kari and I in the other, for Quismancu and his wife did 
 not come--why I cannot say. Then, preceded by another litter in which 
 was a priest of the god, and surrounded by a guard of soldiers, through 
 a rain-storm we were borne up the hill--it was but a little way--to the 
 temple. 
   
 Here, before the golden doors on which the lightning glimmered fitfully, 
 we descended and were led by white-robed men bearing lanterns, through 
 various courts to the inner sanctuary of the god, on the threshold of 
 which I crossed myself, not loving the company of heathen idols. So far 
 as I could see by the lamplight it was a great and glorious place, and 
 everywhere that the eye fell was gold--places of gold on the walls, 
 offerings of gold upon the floor, stars of gold upon the roof. The 
 strange thing about this holy place, however, was that it seemed to be 
 quite empty except for the aforesaid gold. There was neither altar nor 
 image--nothing but a lamp-lit void. 
   
 Here all prostrated themselves, save I alone, and prayed in silence. 
 When they rose again, in a whisper I asked of Kari where was the god. 
 To which he answered: "Nowhere, yet everywhere." This I thought a true 
 saying, and indeed so solemn was that place that I felt as though I were 
 surrounded by that which is divine. 
   
 After a while the priests, who were gorgeously apparelled, led us across 
 the sanctuary to a door that opened upon some stairs. Down these stairs 
 we went into a long passage that seemed to run beneath the earth, for 
 the air in it was heavy. When we had walked a hundred paces or more 
 in this narrow place, we came to other steps and another door, passing 
 through which we found ourselves in a second temple, smaller than that 
 which we had visited, but like to it rich with gold. In the centre of 
 this temple sat the image of a man rudely fashioned of gold. 
   
 "Behold Rimac the Speaker!" whispered Kari. 
   
 "How can gold speak?" I asked. 
   
 Kari made no answer. 
   
 Presently the priests began to mutter prayers and incantations that I 
 thought unholy, after which they laid offerings of what looked like 
 raw flesh set in cups of gold before the idol, that I thought unholier 
 still. Lastly they drew back and asked of what we would learn. 
   
 I made no answer who did not like the business. Nor did Kari say 
 anything, but Quilla spoke out boldly, saying that we would learn of the 
 future and what would befall us. 
   
 Now there was a long silence, and I confess that fear got hold of me, 
 for it seemed to me as though spirits were moving in the air and through 
 the darkness behind us--yes, as though I could hear their whisperings 
 and the rustle of their wings. Suddenly, at the end of this silence, the 
 golden image in front of us began to glow as though it were molten, and 
 the emerald eyes that were set in its head to sparkle terribly, which 
 frightened me so much that had it not been for shame's sake I would have 
 run away, but because of this stood still and prayed to St. Hubert 
 to protect me from the devil and his works. Presently I prayed still 
 harder, for the image began to speak--yes, in a horrid, whistling voice 
 it spoke, although no one was near to it. These were the words it said: 
   
 "Who is this clad in silver whose skin is white and whose hair is 
 yellow? Such an one I have not seen for a thousand years, and such as he 
 it is that shall possess themselves of the Land of Tavantinsuyu, shall 
 steal its wealth, shall slay its people, and shall cast down its gods. 
 But not yet, not yet! Therefore this is the command of Pachacamac, 
 uttered by the voice of Rimac the Speaker, that none do harm to or cross 
 the will of this mighty seaborn lord, since he shall be as a strong wall 
 to many and his sword shall be red with the blood of the wicked." 
   
 The whistling voice ceased while the priests and all there stared at 
 me, for they seemed to think its words fateful. Then suddenly it began 
 again: 
   
 "And who is this that came out of the sea with the Shining One, having 
 wandered further than any of his ancient blood? I know. I know, yet I 
 may not say, since the Spirit of spirits whose image he wears upon his 
 heart bids me be silent. Be bold! Be bold! Prosper and grow great, Child 
 of Pachacamac, for thy wanderings are not yet done. Still there is 
 a mountain to be climbed, and on the crest of it hangs a fringe of 
 Heaven's gold." 
   
 Again the voice ceased, while this time all stared at Kari, who shook 
 his head humbly as though bewildered by what he could not understand. 
 Once more the image spoke: 
   
 "Who is this daughter of the Sun, in whose veins play moonbeams and who 
 is fairer than the evening star? One, I think, whom men shall desire and 
 because of whom shall flow the blood of the great. One whose thought 
 is swift as the lightning and subtle as the snake, one in whom passion 
 burns like fire in the womb of the mountain, but who is filled with 
 spirit that dances above the fire and who longs for things that are 
 afar. Daughter of the Sun in whose blood run the moonbeams, thou shalt 
 slip from the hated arms and the Sun shall be thy shelter, and in the 
 beloved arms thou shalt sleep at last. Yet from the vengeance of the god 
 betrayed fly fast and far!" 
   
 Again the voice ceased, and I thought that all was over. But it was not 
 so, for after a little space the golden figure of the oracle glowed more 
 fiercely than before and the emerald eyes shone more terribly, and in a 
 kind of scream it spoke, saying: 
   
 "The snows of Tavantinsuyu shall be red with blood, the waters of her 
 rivers shall be full of blood. Yes, ye three shall wade through blood, 
 and in a rain of blood shall pluck the fruit of your desires. Still for 
 a while the gods of Tavantinsuyu shall endure and its kings shall reign 
 and its children shall be free. But in the end death for the gods and 
 death for the kings and death for the people. Still, not yet--not yet! 
 None who live shall see it, nor their children, nor their children's 
 children. Rimac the Voice has spoken; treasure ye his words and 
 interpret them as ye will." 
   
   
   
 The whistling voice died away like the thin cry of some starving child 
 in a desert, and there was a great silence. Then in a moment the figure 
 of gold ceased to glow and the eyes of emerald to burn, leaving the 
 thing but a dead lump of metal. The priests prostrated themselves, and 
 rising, led us from the place without a word, but in the light of the 
 lamps I saw that their faces were full of terror--so full that I doubted 
 whether it could be feigned. 
   
 As we had come, so we went, and at last found ourselves outside the 
 glittering temple doors where the litters awaited us. 
   
 "What did it mean?" I whispered to Quilla, who was by my side. 
   
 "For you and the other I know not," she answered hurriedly; "but for 
 me I think that it means death. Yet, not until--not until----" And she 
 ceased. 
   
 At that moment the moon appeared from behind the rain-clouds and shone 
 upon her upturned face, and in her eyes there was a glory. 
   
   
   
 Now, as I learned afterwards, these words of its most famous oracle went 
 all through the land and caused great talk and wonder mixed with fear, 
 for none of such import had been spoken by it for generations. More, 
 they shaped my own fortunes, for, as I came to know, Quismancu and his 
 people had determined that I should not be allowed to go from among 
 them. Not every day did a white god rise from the sea, and they desired 
 that having come to them, there he should bide to be their defence and 
 boast, and with him that hermit named Zapana, to whom, as they believed, 
 he had appeared upon the desert isle. But after Rimac had spoken all 
 this was changed, and when I said it was my will to depart and accompany 
 Quilla upon her journey home to her father, Huaracha, King of the 
 Chancas, as by swift messenger this King invited me to do, Quismancu 
 answered that if I so desired I must be obeyed as the god Rimac had 
 commanded, but that nevertheless he was sure that we should meet again. 
   
 Now, thinking these things over, I wondered much whether that oracle 
 came out of the golden Rimac or perchance from the heart of Quilla, or 
 of Kari, or of both of them, who desired that I should leave the Yuncas 
 and travel to the Chancas and further. I did not know, nor was I ever 
 to learn, since about matters to do with their gods these people are as 
 secret as the grave. I asked Kari and I asked Quilla, but both of them 
 stared at me with innocent eyes, and replied who were they to inspire 
 the golden tongue of Rimac? Nor, indeed, did I ever learn whether Rimac 
 the Speaker was a spirit or but a lump of metal through which some 
 priest talked. All I know is that from one end of Tavantinsuyu to the 
 other he was believed to be a spirit who spoke the very will of God to 
 those who could understand his words, though this as a Christian man I 
 could not credit. 
   
 So it came about that some days later, with Quilla and Kari and certain 
 old men who, I took it, were priests or ambassadors, or both, I departed 
 on our journey. As we went the people wept around my litter for sorrow, 
 real or feigned, for we travelled in litters guarded by some two hundred 
 soldiers armed with axes of copper and bows, and cast flowers before 
 the feet of the bearers. But I did not weep, for though I had been very 
 kindly treated there and, indeed, worshipped, glad was I to see the last 
 of that city and its people who wearied me. 
   
 Moreover, I felt that there I was in the midst of plots, though of what 
 these were I knew nothing, save that Quilla, who to the outward eye 
 was but a lovely, innocent maiden, had a hand in them. Plots there were 
 indeed, for, as I came to understand in time, they were nothing less 
 than the preparing of a great war which the Chancas and the Yuncas were 
 to wage against their over-lord, the Inca, the king of the mighty nation 
 of the Quichuas, who had his home at a city called Cuzco far 
 inland. Indeed, there and then this alliance was arranged, and by 
 Quilla--Quilla, who proposed to sacrifice herself and by the gift of 
 her person to his heir, to throw dust in the eyes of the Inca, whose 
 dominion her father planned to take and with it the imperial crown of 
 Tavantinsuyu. 
   
   
   
 Leaving the coastland, we were borne forward through the passes of great 
 mountains, upon a wonderful road so finely made that never had I seen 
 its like in England. At times we crossed rivers, but over these were 
 thrown bridges of stone. Or mayhap we came to swamps, yet there the road 
 still ran, built upon deep foundations in the mud. Never did it turn 
 aside; always it went on, conquering every hindrance, for this was one 
 of the Inca's roads that pierced Tavantinsuyu from end to end. We came 
 to many towns, for this land was thickly populated, and for the most 
 part slept in one of them each night. But always my fame had gone before 
 me, and the _Curacas_, or chiefs of the towns, waited upon me with 
 offerings as though I were indeed divine. 
   
 For the first five days of that journey I saw little of Quilla, but at 
 length one night we were forced to camp at a kind of rest-house upon the 
 top of a high mountain pass, where it was very cold, for the deep snow 
 lay all about. At this place, as here were no _Curacas_ to trouble me, I 
 went out alone when Kari was elsewhere, and climbed a certain peak which 
 was not far from the rest-house, that thence I might see the sunset and 
 think in quiet. 
   
 Very glorious was the scene from that high point. All round me stood 
 the cold crests of snow-clad mountains towering to the very skies, while 
 between them lay deep valleys where rivers ran like veins of silver. So 
 immense was the landscape that it seemed to have no end, and so grand 
 that it crushed the spirit, while above arched the perfect sky in whose 
 rich blue the gorgeous lights of evening began to gather as the great 
 sun sank behind the snowy peaks. 
   
 Far up in the heavens floated one wide-winged bird, the eagle of the 
 mountains, which is larger than any other fowl that I have ever seen, 
 and the red light playing on it turned it to a thing of fire. I watched 
 that bird and wished that I too had pinions which could bear me far away 
 to the sea and over it. 
   
 And yet did I wish to go who had no home left on all the earth and no 
 kind heart that would welcome me? Awhile ago I should have answered, 
 "Yes, anywhere out of this loneliness," but now I was not so sure. Here 
 at least Kari was my friend if a jealous one, though of late, as I could 
 see, he was thinking of other things than friendship--dark plottings and 
 high ambitions of which as yet he said little to me. 
   
 Then there was that strange and beautiful woman, Quilla, to whom my 
 heart went out and not only because she was beautiful, and who, as I 
 thought, at times looked kindly on me. But if so, what did it avail; 
 seeing that she was promised in marriage to some high-placed native 
 man who would be a king? Surely I had known enough of women who were 
 promised in marriage to other men, and should do well to let her be. 
   
 Thinking thus, desolation took hold of me and I sat myself down on a 
 rock and covered my face with my hands that I might not see the tears, 
 which I knew were gathering in my eyes, as they fell from them. Yes, 
 there in the midst of that awful solitude, I, Hubert of Hastings, whose 
 soul it filled, sat down like a lost child and wept. 
   
 Presently I felt a touch upon my shoulder and let fall my hands, 
 thinking that Kari had found me out, to hear a soft voice, the voice of 
 Quilla, say: 
   
 "So it seems that the gods can weep. Why do you weep, O 
 God-from-the-Waves who here are named Hurachi?" 
   
 "I weep," I answered, "because I am a stranger in a strange land; I weep 
 because I have not wings whereon I can fly away like that great bird 
 above us." 
   
 She looked at me awhile, then said, most gently: 
   
 "And whither would you fly, O God-from-the-Sea? Back into the sea?" 
   
 "Cease to call me a god," I answered, "who, as you know well, am but a 
 man though of another race than yours." 
   
 "I thought it but I did not know. But whither would you fly, O Lord 
 Hurachi?" 
   
 "To the land where I was born, Lady Quilla; the land that I shall never 
 see again." 
   
 "Ah! doubtless there you have wives and children for whom your heart is 
 hungry." 
   
 "Nay, now I have neither wife nor child." 
   
 "Then once you had a wife. Tell me of that wife. Was she fair?" 
   
 "Why should I tell you a sad story? She is dead." 
   
 "Dead or living, you still love her, and where there is love there is no 
 death." 
   
 "Nay, I only love what I thought she was." 
   
 "Was she false, then?" 
   
 "Yes, false and yet true. So true that she died because she was false." 
   
 "How can a woman be both false and true?" 
   
 "Woman can be all things. Ask the question of your own heart. Can you 
 not perchance be both false and true?" 
   
 She thought awhile and, leaving this matter, said: 
   
 "So, having once loved, you can never love again." 
   
 "Why not? Perchance I can love too much. But what would be the use when 
 more love would but mean more loss and pain?" 
   
 "Whom should you love, my lord Hurachi, seeing that the women of your 
 own folk are far away?" 
   
 "I think one who is very near, if she would pay back love for love." 
   
 Quilla made no answer, and I thought that she was angry and would go 
 away. But she did not; indeed, she sat herself down upon the stone at my 
 side and covered her face with her hands as I had done and began to weep 
 as I had done. Now in my turn I asked her: 
   
 "Why do you weep?" 
   
 "Because I, too, must know loneliness, and with it shame, Lord Hurachi." 
   
 At these words my heart beat and passion flamed up in me. Stretching 
 out my hand I drew hers away and in the dying light gazed at the face 
 beneath. Lo! on its loveliness there was a look which could not be 
 misread. 
   
 "Do you, then, also love?" I whispered. 
   
 "Aye, more, I think, than ever woman loved before. From the moment when 
 first I saw you sleeping in the moonbeams on the desert isle, I knew my 
 fate had found me, and that I loved. I fought against it because I must, 
 but that love has grown and grown, till now I am all love, and, having 
 given everything, have no more left to give." 
   
 When I heard this, making no answer, I swept her into my arms and kissed 
 her, and there she lay upon my breast and kissed me back. 
   
 "Let me go, and hear me," she murmured presently, "for you are strong 
 and I am weak." 
   
 I obeyed, and she sank back upon the stone. 
   
 "My lord," she said, "our case is very sad, or at least my case is sad, 
 since though you being a man may love often, I can love but once, and, 
 my lord, it may not be." 
   
 "Why not?" I asked hoarsely. "Your people think me a god; cannot a god 
 take whom he wills to wife?" 
   
 "Not when she is vowed to another god, he who will be Inca; not when on 
 her, mayhap, hangs the fate of nations." 
   
 "We might fly, Quilla." 
   
 "Whither could the God-from-the-Sea fly and whither could fly the 
 daughter of the Moon, who is vowed to the son of the Sun in marriage, 
 save to death?" 
   
 "There are worse things than death, Quilla." 
   
 "Aye, but my life is in pawn. I must live that my people may not die. 
 Myself I offered it to this cause and now, being royal, I cannot take it 
 back again for my own joy. It is better to be shamed with honour than to 
 be loved in the lap of shame." 
   
 "What then?" I asked hopelessly. 
   
 "Only this, that above us are the gods, and--heard you not the oracle of 
 Rimac that declared to me that I should slip from the hated arms, that 
 the Sun should be my shelter, and in the beloved arms I should sleep at 
 last, though from the vengeance of the god betrayed I must fly fast 
 and far? I think that this means death, but also it means life in death 
 and--O arms beloved, you shall fold me yet. I know not how, but have 
 faith--for you shall fold me yet. Meanwhile, tempt me not from the path 
 of honour, since this I know, that it alone can lead me to my home. Yet 
 who is the god betrayed from whom I must fly? Who, who?" 
   
 Thus she spoke and was silent, and I, too, was silent. Yes, there we 
 sat, both silent in the darkness, searching the heavens for a guiding 
 star. And as we sat, presently I heard the voice of Kari saying: 
   
 "Have I found you, Lord, and you also, Lady Quilla? Return, I pray you, 
 for all search and are frightened." 
   
 "Why?" I answered. "The lady Quilla and I study this wondrous scene." 
   
 "Yes, Lord, though to those who are not god-born it would be difficult 
 in this darkness. Suffer, now that I show you the path." 
   
   
   
 CHAPTER V 
   
 KARI GOES 
   
 As it chanced during the remaining days of that journey, Quilla and I 
 were not again alone together (that is to say, except once for a few 
 minutes), for we were never out of eyeshot of someone in our company. 
 Thus Kari clung to me very closely, indeed, and when I asked him why, 
 told me bluntly that it was for my safety's sake. A god to remain a god, 
 he said, should live alone in a temple. When he began to mix with others 
 of the earth and to do those things they did, to eat and to drink, 
 to laugh and to frown; even to slip in the mud or to stumble over the 
 stones in the common path, those others would come to think that there 
 was small difference between god and man. Especially would they think 
 so if he were observed to love the company of women or to melt beneath 
 their soft glances. 
   
 Now I grew sore at the sting of these arrows which of late he had 
 loved to shoot at me, and without pretending to misunderstand him, said 
 outright: 
   
 "The truth is, Kari, that you are jealous of the lady Quilla as once you 
 were jealous of another." 
   
 He considered the matter in his grave fashion, and answered: 
   
 "Yes, Master, that is the truth, or part of it. You saved my life, and 
 sheltered me when I was alone in a strange land, and for this and for 
 yourself I came to love you very greatly, and love, if it be true, is 
 always jealous and always hates a rival." 
   
 "There are different sorts of loves," I said; "that of a man for man is 
 one, that of man for woman is another." 
   
 "Yes, Master, and that of woman for man is a third; moreover, there is 
 this about it--it is the acid which turns all other loves sour. Where 
 are a man's friends when a woman has him by the heart?--although 
 perchance they love him better than ever will the woman who at bottom 
 loves herself best of all. Still, let that be, for so Nature works, and 
 who can fight against Nature? What Quilla takes, Kari loses, and Kari 
 must be content to lose." 
   
 "Have you done?" I asked angrily, who wearied of his homilies. 
   
 "No, Master. The matter of jealousy is small and private; so is the 
 matter of love. But, Master, you have not told me outright whether you 
 love the lady Quilla, and, what is more important, whether she loves 
 you." 
   
 "Then I will tell you now. I do and she does." 
   
 "You love the lady Quilla and she says that she loves you, which may or 
 may not be true, or if true to-day may be false to-morrow. For your sake 
 I hope that it is not true." 
   
 "Why?" I said in a rage. 
   
 "Because, Master, in this land there are many sorts of poison, as I have 
 learned to my cost. Also there are knives, if not of steel, and many who 
 might wish to discover whether a god who courts women like a man can be 
 harmed by poisons or pierced by knives. Oh!" he added, in another tone, 
 ceasing from his bitter jests, "believe me that I would shield, not mock 
 you. This Lady Quilla is a queen in a great game of pieces such as you 
 taught me to play far away in England, and without her perchance that 
 game cannot be won, or so those who play it think. Now you would steal 
 that queen and thereby, as they also think, bring death and destruction 
 on a country. It is not safe, Master. There are plenty of fair women in 
 this land; take your pick of them, but leave that one queen alone." 
   
 "Kari," I answered, "if there be such a game, are you not perchance one 
 of the players on this side or on that?" 
   
 "It may be so, Master, and if you have not guessed it, perhaps one day 
 I will tell you upon which side I play. It may even be that for my own 
 sake I should be glad to see you lift this queen from off the board, and 
 that what I tell you is for love of you and not of myself, also of the 
 lady Quilla, who, if you fall, falls with you down through the black 
 night into the arms of the Moon, her mother. But I have said enough, and 
 indeed it is foolish to waste breath in such talk, since Fate will have 
 its way with both of you, and the end of the game in which we play is 
 already written in Pachacamac's book for every one of us. Did not Rimac 
 speak of it the other night? So play on, play on, and let Destiny fulfil 
 itself. If I dared to give counsel it was only because he who watches 
 the battle with a general's eye sees more of it than he who fights." 
   
 Then he bowed in his stately fashion and left me, and it was long ere he 
 spoke to me again of this matter of Quilla and our love for one another. 
   
 When he was gone my anger against him passed, since I saw that he was 
 warning me of more than he dared to say, not for himself, but because 
 he loved me. Moreover, I was afraid, for I felt that I was moving in the 
 web of a great plot that I did not understand, of which Quilla and those 
 cold-eyed lordlings of her company and the chief whose guest I had 
 been, and Kari himself, and many others as yet unknown to me, spun the 
 invisible threads. One day these might choke me. Well, if they did, what 
 then? Only I feared for Quilla--greatly I feared for Quilla. 
   
 On the day following my talk with Kari at length we reached the great 
 city of the Chancas, which, after them, was called Chanca--at least I 
 always knew it by that name. From the dawn we had been passing through 
 rich valleys where dwelt thousands of these Chancas who, I could see, 
 were a mighty people that bore themselves proudly and like soldiers. 
 In multitudes they gathered themselves together upon either side of the 
 road, chiefly to catch a sight of me, the white god who had risen from 
 the ocean, but also to greet their princess, the lady Quilla. 
   
 Indeed, now I learned for the first time how high a princess she was, 
 since when her litter passed, these folk prostrated themselves, kissing 
 the air and the dust. Moreover, as soon as she came among them Quilla's 
 bearing changed, for her carriage grew more haughty and her words 
 fewer. Now she seldom spoke save to issue a command, not even to myself, 
 although I noted that she studied me with her eyes when she thought that 
 I was not observing her. 
   
 During our midday halt I looked up and saw that an army was approaching 
 us, five thousand men or more, and asked Kari its meaning. 
   
 "These," he answered, "are some of the troops of Huaracha, King of the 
 Chancas, whom he sends out to greet his daughter and only child, also 
 his guest, the White God." 
   
 "Some of the troops! Has he more, then?" 
   
 "Aye, Master, ten times as many, as I think. This is a great people; 
 almost as great as that of the Incas who live at Cuzco. Come now into 
 the tent and put on your armour, that you may be ready to meet them." 
   
 I did so, and, stepping forth clad in the shining steel, took my stand 
 where Kari showed me, upon a rise of ground. On my right at a little 
 distance stood Quilla, more splendidly arrayed than I had ever seen 
 her, and behind her her maidens and the captains and counsellors of her 
 following. 
   
 The army drew nearer, marshalled in regiments and halted on the plain 
 some two hundred yards away. Presently from it advanced generals and 
 old men, clad in white, whom I took to be priests and elders. They 
 approached to the number of twenty or more and bowed deeply, first to 
 Quilla, who bent her head in acknowledgment and then to myself. After 
 this they went to speak with Quilla and her following, but what they 
 said I did not know. All the while, however, their eyes were fixed on 
 me. Then Quilla brought them to me and one by one they bowed before me, 
 saying something in a language which I did not understand well, for it 
 was somewhat different from that which Kari had taught me. 
   
 After this we entered the litters, and, escorted by that great army, 
 were borne forward down valleys and over ridges till about sunset we 
 came to a large cup-like plain in the centre of which stood the city 
 called Chanca. Of this city I did not see much except that it was very 
 great as the darkness was falling when we entered, and afterwards I 
 could not go out because of the crowds that pressed about me. I was 
 borne down a wide street to a house that stood in a large garden which 
 was walled about. Here in this fine house I found food prepared for me, 
 and drink, all of it served in dishes and cups of gold and silver; also 
 there were women who waited upon me, as did Kari who now was called 
 Zapana and seemed to be my slave. 
   
 When I had eaten I went out alone into the garden, for on this plain 
 the air was very warm and pleasant. It was a beautiful garden, and 
 I wandered about among its avenues and flowering bushes, glad to be 
 solitary and to have time to think. Amongst other things I wondered 
 where Quilla might be, for of her I had seen nothing from the time that 
 we entered the town. I hated to be parted from her, because in this vast 
 strange land into which I had wandered she was the only one for whom I 
 had come to care and without whom I felt I should die of loneliness. 
   
 There was Kari, it is true, who I knew loved me in his fashion, but 
 between him and me there was a great gulf fixed, not only of race and 
 faith, but of something now which I did not wholly understand. In London 
 he had been my servant and his ends were my ends; on our wandering he 
 had been my companion in great adventures. But now I knew that other 
 interests and desires had taken a hold of him, and that he trod a road 
 of which I could not see the goal; and no longer thought much of me save 
 when what I did or desired to do came between him and that goal. 
   
 Therefore Quilla alone was left to me, and Quilla was about to be taken 
 away. Oh! I wearied of this strange land with its snowclad mountains and 
 rich valleys, its hordes of dark-skinned people with large eyes, smiling 
 faces, and secret hearts; its great cities, temples, and palaces filled 
 with useless gold and silver; its brilliant sunshine and rushing rivers, 
 its gods, kings, and policies. They were alien to me, every one of 
 them, and if Quilla were taken away and I were left quite alone, then I 
 thought that it would be well to die. 
   
 Something moved behind a palm trunk of the avenue in which I walked, and 
 not knowing whether it were beast or man, I laid my hand upon my sword 
 which I still wore, although I had taken off the armour. Before I could 
 draw it my wrist was grasped and a soft voice whispered in my ear: 
   
 "Fear nothing; it is I--Quilla." 
   
 Quilla it was, wrapped in a long hooded cloak such as the peasant women 
 wear in the cold country, for she threw back the hood and a beam of 
 starlight fell upon her face. 
   
 "Hearken!" she said. "It is dangerous to both of us, but I have come to 
 bid you farewell." 
   
 "Farewell! I feared it would be thus, but why so soon, Quilla?" 
   
 "For this reason, Love and Lord. I have seen my father the King, and 
 made my report to him of the matter with which I was sent to deal among 
 the Yuncas. It pleased him, and since his mood was gracious, I opened 
 my heart to him and told him that no longer did I wish to be given in 
 marriage to Urco, who will soon put on the Inca fringe, for, as you 
 know, it is to him that I am promised!" 
   
 "What did he answer, Quilla?" 
   
 "He answered: 'This means, Daughter, that you have met some other man to 
 whom you do wish to be given in marriage. I will not ask his name, since 
 if I knew it it would be my duty to kill him, however high and noble he 
 might be.'" 
   
 "Then he guesses, Quilla?" 
   
 "I think he guesses; I think that already some have whispered in his 
 ear, but he does not wish to listen who desires to remain deaf and 
 blind." 
   
 "Did he say no more, Quilla?" 
   
 "He said much more; he said this--now I tell you secrets, Lord, and 
 place my honour in your keeping, for having given you all the rest, why 
 should I not give you that also? He said: 'Daughter, you who have been 
 my ambassador, you, my only child, who know all my counsel, know also 
 that there is about to be the greatest war that the land of Tavantinsuyu 
 has ever known, war between the two mighty nations of the Quichuas of 
 Cuzco whereof the old Upanqui is king and god, and the Chancas whereof 
 I am king and you, if you live, in a day to come will be the queen. No 
 longer can these two lions dwell in the same forest; one of them must 
 devour the other; nor shall I fight alone, since on our side are all the 
 Yuncas of the coast who, as you report to me, are ripe for rebellion. 
 But, as you also report, and as I have learned from others, they are not 
 yet ready. Moons must go by before their armies are joined to mine and I 
 throw off the mask. Is it not so?' 
   
 "I answered that it was so, and my father went on: 
   
 "'Then during that time, Daughter, a dust must be raised that will hide 
 the shining of my spears, and, Daughter, you are that dust. To-morrow 
 the old Inca Upanqui visits me here with a small army. I read your 
 thought. It is--Why do you not kill him and his army? Daughter, for this 
 reason. He is very aged and about to lay down his sceptre, who grows 
 feeble of mind and body. If I killed him what would it serve me, seeing 
 that he has left his son, Urco, who will be Inca, ruling at Cuzco, and 
 that of his soldiers not one in fifty will be with him here? Moreover, 
 he is my guest, and the gods frown on those who slay their guests, nor 
 will men ever trust them more.' 
   
 "Now I answered: 'You spoke of me as a cloud of dust, Father; how, then, 
 can this poor dust serve your ends and those of the Chanca people?' 
   
 "'Thus Daughter,' he answered. 'With your own consent you are promised 
 in marriage to Urco. Upanqui the Inca has heard rumours that the Chancas 
 prepare for war. Therefore, he who travels on his last journey through 
 certain of his dominions comes to lead you away, to be Urco's bride, 
 saying to himself, "If those rumours are true, King Huaracha will 
 withhold his only child and heiress, since never will he make war upon 
 Cuzco if she rules there as its queen." Therefore, if I refuse you to 
 him, he will withdraw and begin the war, rolling down his thousands 
 upon us before we are ready, and bringing the Chancas to destruction and 
 enslavement. Therefore also not only my fate, but the fate of all your 
 country lies in your hand.' 
   
 "'Father,' I said, 'tell me, who was ever dear to you that lack sons, is 
 there no escape? Must I eat this bitter bread? Before you answer, learn 
 that you have guessed aright, and that I who, when I made that promise, 
 cared for no man, have come to feel the burning of love's fire!' 
   
 "Now he looked at me awhile, then said: 'Child of the Moon, there is but 
 one escape, and it must be sought--in the moon. The dead cannot be given 
 in marriage. If your strait is so sore, though it would cut me to 
 the heart, perchance it is better that you should die and go whither 
 doubtless he whom you love will soon follow you. Depart now and counsel 
 with Heaven in your sleep. To-morrow, before Upanqui comes, we will talk 
 again.' 
   
 "So I knelt and kissed the hand of the King, my father, and left him, 
 wondering at his nobleness who could show such a road to his only child, 
 though its treading would mean woe to him and mayhap the ruin of his 
 hopes. Still that road is an old one among the women of my people, and 
 why should I not walk it, as thousands have done before me?" 
   
 "How came you here?" I asked hoarsely. 
   
 "Lord, I guessed that you would be walking in this garden which joins on 
 to that of the palace, and--none were about, and--the door in the 
 wall was open. Indeed, it was almost as though I were left alone and 
 unwatched of set purpose. So I came and sought--and found, having a 
 question to put to you." 
   
 "What question, Quilla?" 
   
 "This: Shall I live or shall I die? Speak the word and I obey. Yet ere 
 you speak, remember that if I live we meet for the last time, since very 
 soon I go hence to become the wife of Urco and play the part that is 
 prepared for me?" 
   
 Now when I, Hubert, heard these words, I felt as though my heart would 
 burst within my breast and knew not what to say. So to gain time I asked 
 her: 
   
 "Which do you desire--to live or to die?" 
   
 She laughed a little as she answered: 
 
   
 
 
 Part: 3 
 
   
 "That is a strange question, Lord. Have I not told you that if I live 
 I must do so befouled as one of Urco's women, whereas, if I die, I die 
 clean and take my love with me to where Urco cannot come, but where, 
 mayhap, another may follow at the appointed time." 
   
 "Which time would be very soon, I think, Quilla, seeing that he who had 
 spoiled all this pretty plot would scarcely be left long upon the earth, 
 even if he wished to stay there. Yet I say: Do not die--live on." 
   
 "To become Urco's woman! That is strange counsel from a lover's lips, 
 Lord; such as would scarcely have been given by any of our nobles." 
   
 "Aye, Quilla, and it is given because I am not of your people and do not 
 think as they think, who reject their customs. You are not yet Urco's 
 wife, and may be rid of him by other paths than that of death, but from 
 the grave there is no escape." 
   
 "And in the grave there is no more fear, Lord. Thither Urco cannot come; 
 there are neither wars nor plottings; there honour does not beckon 
 and love hold back. I say that I will die and make an end, as for like 
 causes many of my blood have done, though not here and now. When I am 
 about to be delivered to Urco then I will die, and perchance not alone. 
 Perchance he will accompany me," she added slowly. 
   
 "And if this happens, what shall I do?" 
   
 "Live on, Lord, and find other women to love you, as a god should. There 
 are many in this land fairer and wiser than I, and, save myself, you may 
 take whom you will." 
   
 "Listen, Quilla. I have a story to tell you." 
   
 Then, as briefly as I could, I set out the tale of Blanche and of her 
 end, while she hung upon my every word. 
   
 "Oh! I grieve for you," she said, when I had finished. 
   
 "You grieve for me, and yet, what she did for my sake you would do also, 
 so that, as it were, both my hands must be dyed with blood. This first 
 terror I have borne, but if a second falls upon me then I know that I 
 shall go mad and perish in this way or in that, and you, Quilla, will be 
 my murderess." 
   
 "No, no, not that!" she murmured. 
   
 "Then swear to me by your god and by your spirit, that you will do 
 yourself no harm, whatever chances, and that if die you must, it shall 
 be with me for company." 
   
 "Is your love so great that you would dare this for my sake, Lord?" 
   
 "I think so, though not till all else had failed. I think that if you 
 were taken from me, Quilla, I could not live on here in loneliness and 
 exile--however great the sin. But do you swear?" 
   
 "Aye, Love and Lord, I swear, for your sake. Moreover, I add to the 
 oath. If perhaps we should escape these perils and come together, I will 
 be such a wife to you as never man has had. I will wrap you round with 
 love and lift you up to be a king, that you may live in glory forgetting 
 your home across the sea, and all the sorrows that befell you there. 
 Children you shall have also of whom you need not be ashamed, though my 
 dark blood runs in them, and armies at command and palaces filled with 
 gold, and all royal joys. And if perchance the gods declare against us, 
 and we pass from the world together, then I think, oh! then I think that 
 I shall give you finer gifts than these, though what they are I know not 
 yet, since to the power of love there is no end--here on earth or yonder 
 in the skies." 
   
 I stared at her face in the starlight, and oh! it had grown splendid. 
 No longer was it that of a woman, since through it, like light through 
 pearl, shone a soul divine. It might have been a goddess who stood 
 beside me, for those eyes were holy and her embrace that wrapped me 
 close was not that of the flesh alone. 
   
 "I must be gone," she whispered, "but now I go without fear. Perchance 
 we may not speak again for long, but trust me always. Play your part and 
 I will play mine. Follow me wherever I am taken and keep near to me, 
 if you may, as ever my spirit shall be near to you. Then what matters 
 anything, even if we are slain? Farewell, beloved, kiss me and 
 farewell." 
   
 Another moment and she had glided away and was lost in the shadows. 
   
   
   
 She was gone, and I stood amazed and overcome. Oh! what a love it was 
 that this alien woman had given to me and how could I be worthy of it? 
 Now I forgot my griefs; now I no longer mourned because I was an outcast 
 who nevermore might look upon the land where I was born, nor see the 
 face of one my own race or blood. All my loss was paid back to me again 
 and yet again, in the coin of the glory of this woman whom I had won. 
 Dangers rose about us, but I feared them no more, because I knew that 
 her love's conquering feet would stamp them flat and lead me safe to a 
 joyful treasure-house of splendour of spirit and of body where we should 
 dwell side by side, triumphant and unafraid. 
   
 Whilst I thought thus, lost in a rapture such as I had not felt since 
 Blanche kissed me at the mouth of the Hastings cave after I had killed 
 the three Frenchmen with as many arrows from my black bow, I heard a 
 sound and looked up to see a man standing before me. 
   
 "Who is it?" I asked, grasping my sword, for his face was hidden in the 
 shadows. 
   
 "I," answered a voice which I knew to be that of Kari. 
   
 "Then how did you come here? I saw no one pass the open ground." 
   
 "Master, you are not the only one who loves to walk in gardens in the 
 quiet of the night. I was here before yourself, behind yonder tree," and 
 he pointed to a palm not three paces distant. 
   
 "Then, Kari, you must have seen----" 
   
 "Yes, Master, I saw and heard, not everything, because there came a 
 point at which I shut my eyes and stopped my ears, but still much." 
   
 "I am minded to kill you, Kari," I said between my teeth, "who play the 
 spy upon me." 
   
 "I guessed it would be so, Master," he replied in his gentlest voice, 
 "and for that reason, as you will notice, I am standing out of reach of 
 your sword. You wonder why I am here. I will tell you. It is not from 
 any desire to watch your love-makings which weary me, who have seen such 
 before, but rather that I might find secrets, of which love is always 
 the loser, and those secrets I have learned. How could I have come by 
 them otherwise, Master?" 
   
 "Surely you deserve to die," I exclaimed furiously. 
   
 "I think not, Master. But listen and judge for yourself. I have told you 
 something of my story, now you shall hear more, after which we will talk 
 of what I do or do not deserve. I am the eldest son of the Inca Upanqui, 
 and Urco, of whom you have been talking is my younger brother. But 
 Upanqui, our father, loved Urco's mother while mine he did not love, and 
 swore to her before she died that against right and law, Urco, her 
 son, should be Inca after him. Therefore he hated me because I stood in 
 Urco's path; therefore too many troubles befell me, and I was given over 
 into Urco's hand, so that he took my wife and tried to poison me, and 
 the rest you know. Now it was needful to me to learn how things went, 
 and for this reason I listened to the talk between you and a certain 
 lady. It told me that Upanqui, my father, comes here to-morrow, which 
 indeed I knew already, and much else that I had not heard. This being 
 so I must vanish away, since doubtless Upanqui or his councillors would 
 know me again, and as they are all of them friends of Urco, perhaps I 
 should taste more poison and of a stronger sort." 
   
 "Whither will you vanish, Kari?" 
   
 "I know not, Master, or if I know, I will not say, who have but just 
 been taught afresh how secrets can pass from ear to ear. I must lie hid, 
 that is enough. Yet do not think that therefore I shall desert you--I, 
 while I live, will watch over you, a stranger in my country, as you 
 watched over me when I was a stranger in your England." 
   
 "I thank you," I answered, "and certainly you watch well--too well, 
 sometimes, as I have found to-night." 
   
 "You think it pleases me to spy upon you and a certain lady," went on 
 Kari with an unruffled voice, "but it is not so. What I do is for good 
 reasons, amongst others that I may protect you both, and if I can, bring 
 about what you desire. That lady has a great heart, as I learned but 
 now, and after all you did well to love her, as she does well to love 
 you. Therefore, although the dangers are so many, if I am able, I will 
 help you in your love and bring you together, yes, and save her from the 
 arms of Urco. Nay, ask me not how, for I do not know, and the case seems 
 desperate." 
   
 "But if you go, what shall I do alone?" I asked, alarmed. 
   
 "Bide here, I think, Lord, giving it out that your servant Zapana has 
 deserted you. Indeed it seems that this you must do, since the king 
 of this country will scarcely suffer you to be the companion of his 
 daughter upon her marriage journey to Cuzco, even if Upanqui so desires. 
 Nor would it be wise, for if he did, misfortune might befall you on 
 the road. There are some women, Lord, who cannot keep their love out of 
 their eyes, and henceforward there will be plenty to watch the eyes and 
 hearken to the most secret sighings of one of the greatest of them. Now 
 farewell until I come to you again or send others on my behalf. Trust 
 me, I pray you, since to whomever else I may seem false, to you I am 
 true; yes, to you and to another because she has become a part of you." 
   
 Then before I could answer, Kari took my hand and touched it with his 
 lips. Another moment and I had lost sight of him in the shadows. 
   
   
   
 CHAPTER VI 
   
 THE CHOICE 
   
 That night I slept but ill who was overwhelmed with all that had 
 befallen me of good and evil. I had gained a wondrous love, but she who 
 gave it was, it seemed, about to be lost to me, aye, and to be thrown 
 to another whom she hated, to forward the dark policies of a great and 
 warlike people. I had spoken to her with high words of hope, but of it 
 in my heart there was little. She would follow what she held to be her 
 duty to the end, and that end, if she kept her promise and did not die 
 as she desired to do--was--the arms of Urco. From these I could see no 
 escape for her, and the thought maddened me. Moreover, Kari was gone 
 leaving me utterly alone among these strangers, and whether he would 
 return again I did not know. Oh! almost I wished that I were dead. 
   
 The morning broke at last and I arose and called for Zapana. Then came 
 others who said that my servant, Zapana, could not be found, whereat 
 I affected surprise and anger. Still these others waited on me well 
 enough, and I rose and ate in pomp and luxury. Scarcely had I finished 
 my meal than there appeared heralds who summoned me to the presence of 
 the king Huaracha. 
   
 I went, borne in a litter, although an arrow from my black bow would 
 have flown from door to door. At the portal of the palace, which was 
 like others I had seen, only finer, I was met by soldiers and gaily 
 dressed servants and led across a courtyard within, which I could see 
 was prepared for some ceremony, to a small chamber on the further side. 
 Here, when my eyes grew accustomed to the half-darkness, I perceived a 
 man of some sixty years of age, and behind him two soldiers. At once I 
 noted that everything about this man was plain and simple; the chamber, 
 which was little more than four whitewashed walls with a floor of stone, 
 the stool he sat on, even his apparel. Here were no gold or silver or 
 broidered cloths, or gems, or other rich and costly things such as these 
 people love, but rather those that are suited to a soldier. A soldier he 
 looked indeed, being burly and broad and scarred upon his homely face, 
 in which gleamed eyes that were steady and piercing. 
   
 As I entered, the king Huaracha, for it was he, rose from his stool and 
 bowed to me, and I bowed back to him. Then he motioned to one of the 
 soldiers to give me another stool, upon which I sat myself, and speaking 
 in a strong, low voice, using that tongue which Kari had taught me, 
 said: 
   
 "Greeting, White-God-from-the-Sea, or golden-bearded man named the lord 
 Hurachi, I know not which, of whom I have heard so much and whom I am 
 glad to behold in my poor city. Say, can you understand my talk?" 
   
 Thus he spoke, searching me with his eyes, though all the while I 
 perceived that they rested rather on my armour and the great sword, 
 Wave-Flame, than on my face. 
   
 I gave him back his greeting and answered that I understood the tongue 
 he used though not so very well, whereon he began to speak about the 
 armour and the sword, which puzzled him who had never seen steel. 
   
 "Make me some like them," he said, "and I will give you ten times their 
 weight in gold, which, after all, is of no use since with it one cannot 
 kill enemies." 
   
 "In my country with it one can corrupt them," I answered, "or buy them 
 to be friends." 
   
 "So you have a country," he interrupted shrewdly. "I thought that the 
 gods had none." 
   
 "Even the gods live somewhere," I replied. 
   
 He laughed, and turning to the two soldiers, who also were staring at my 
 mail and sword, bade them go. When the heavy door had shut behind them 
 and we were quite alone, he said: 
   
 "My lord Hurachi, I have heard from my daughter how she found you in 
 the sea, a story indeed. I have also heard, or guessed, it matters not 
 which, that her heart has turned towards you, as is not strange, seeing 
 the manner of man you are, if indeed you be not more than man, and that 
 women are ever prone to love those whom they think they have saved. Is 
 this true, my lord Hurachi?" 
   
 "Ask of the Lady Quilla, O King." 
   
 "Mayhap I have asked and at last it seems that you make no denial. Now 
 hearken, my lord Hurachi. You are my honoured guest and save one thing, 
 all I have is yours, but you must talk no more alone with the lady 
 Quilla in gardens at night." 
   
 Now, making no attempt to deny or explain which I saw would be useless, 
 since he knew it all, I asked boldly: 
   
 "Why not?" 
   
 "I thought that perchance my daughter had told you, Lord Hurachi, but if 
 you desire to hear it from my own lips also, for this reason. The lady 
 Quilla is promised in marriage and if she lives that promise must be 
 fulfilled, since on it hangs the fate of nations. Therefore, it is, 
 although to grieve to part such a pair, that you and she must meet no 
 more in gardens or elsewhere. Know that if you do, you will bring about 
 her death and your own, if gods can die." 
   
 Now I thought awhile and answered: 
   
 "These are heavy words, King Huaracha, seeing that I will not hide from 
 you that I love your daughter well and that she, who is great-hearted, 
 loves me well and desires me for her husband." 
   
 "I know it and I grieve for both of you," he said courteously. 
   
 "King Huaracha," I went on, "I see that you are a soldier and the lord 
 of armies, and it has come into my mind that perchance you dream of 
 war." 
   
 "The gods see far, White Lord." 
   
 "Now god or man, I also am a soldier, King, and I know arts of battle 
 which perhaps are hidden from you and your people; also I cannot be 
 harmed by weapons because of magic armour that I wear, and none can 
 stand before me in fight because of this magic sword I carry, and I can 
 direct battles with a general's mind. In a great war, King, I might be 
 useful to you were I the husband of your daughter and therefore your 
 son and friend, and perchance by my skill make the difference to you and 
 your nation between victory and defeat." 
   
 "Doubtless this is so, O Son-of-the-Sea." 
   
 "In the same fashion, King, were I upon the side of your enemies, to 
 them I might bring victory and to you defeat. Whom do you desire that I 
 should serve, you or them?" 
   
 "I desire that you should serve me," he replied with eagerness. "Do 
 so and all the wealth of this land shall be yours, with the rule of my 
 armies under me. You shall have palaces and fields and gold and silver, 
 and the fairest of its daughters for wives, and be worshipped as a 
 god, and for aught I know, be king after me, not only of my country but 
 mayhap of another that is even greater." 
   
 "It is a good offer, King, but not enough. Give me your daughter, 
 Quilla, and you may keep all the rest." 
   
 "White Lord, I cannot, since to do so I must break my word." 
   
 "Then, King, I cannot serve you, and unless you kill me first--if you 
 are able--I will be, not your friend, but your enemy." 
   
 "Can a god be killed, and if so can a guest be killed? Lord, you know 
 that he cannot. Yet he can remain a guest. To my country you have come, 
 Lord, and in my country you shall stay, unless you have wings beneath 
 that silver coat. Quilla goes hence but here you bide, my lord Hurachi." 
   
 "Perchance I shall find the wings," I answered. 
   
 "Aye, Lord, for it is said that the dead fly, and if I may not kill you, 
 others may. Therefore my counsel to you is to stay here, taking such 
 things as my poor country can give you, and not to try to follow the 
 moon (by this he meant Quilla) to the golden city of Cuzco, which 
 henceforth must be her home." 
   
 Now having no more to say, since war had been declared between us, as 
 it were, I rose to bid this king farewell. He also rose, then, as 
 though struck by a sudden thought, said that he desired to speak with my 
 servant, Zapana, he whom the lady Quilla had found with me in the island 
 of the sea. I replied that he could not since Zapana had vanished, I 
 knew not where. 
   
 At this intelligence he appeared to be disturbed and was beginning to 
 question me somewhat sternly as to who Zapana might be and how I had 
 first come into his company, when the door of the room opened and 
 through it Quilla entered even more gorgeously robed and looking 
 lovelier than ever I had seen her. She bowed, first to the King and then 
 to me, saying: 
   
 "Lord and Father, I come to tell you that the Inca Upanqui draws near 
 with his princes and captains." 
   
 "Is it so, Daughter?" he answered. "Then make your farewell here and now 
 to this White-Son-of-the-Sea, since it is my will that you depart with 
 Upanqui who comes to escort you to Cuzco, the City of the Sun, there to 
 be given as wife to the prince Urco, son of the Sun, who will sit on the 
 Inca's throne." 
   
 "I make my farewell to the lord Hurachi as you command," she answered, 
 curtseying, and in a very quiet voice, "but know, my father, that I 
 love this White Lord as he loves me, and that therefore, although I 
 may be given to the Prince Urco, as a gold cup is given, never shall he 
 drink from the cup and never will I be his wife." 
   
 "You have courage, Daughter, and I like courage," said Huaracha. "For 
 the rest, settle the matter as you will and if you can slip from the 
 coils of this snake of an Urco unpoisoned, do so, since my bargain is 
 fulfilled and my honour satisfied. Only hither you shall not return to 
 the lord Hurachi, nor shall the lord Hurachi go to you at Cuzco." 
   
 "That shall be as the gods decree, my father, and meanwhile I play my 
 part as _you_ decree. Lord Hurachi, fare you well till in life or death 
 we meet again." 
   
 Then she bowed to me, and went, and presently without more words we 
 followed after her. 
   
   
   
 In front of the palace there was a great square of open ground 
 surrounded by houses, except towards the east, and on this square 
 was marshalled an army of men all splendidly arrayed and carrying 
 copper-headed spears. In front of these was pitched a great pavilion 
 made of cloths of various colours. Here King Huaracha, simply dressed in 
 a robe of white cotton but wearing a little crown of gold and carrying 
 a large spear, took his seat upon a throne, while to his right, on a 
 smaller throne, sat Quilla, and on his left stood yet another throne 
 ornamented with gold, that was empty. Between the throne of Huaracha and 
 that which was empty stood a chair covered with silver on which I was 
 bidden to take my seat, so placed that all could see me, while behind 
 and around were lords and generals. 
   
 Scarcely were we arranged when from the dip beyond the open space 
 appeared heralds who carried spears and were fantastically dressed. 
 These shouted that the Inca Upanqui, the Child of the Sun, the god who 
 ruled the earth, drew near. 
   
 "Let him approach!" said Huaracha briefly, and they departed. 
   
 Awhile later there arose a sound of barbarous music and of chanting and 
 from the dip below emerged a glittering litter borne upon the shoulders 
 of richly clothed men all of whom, I was told afterwards, were princes 
 by blood, and surrounded by beautiful women who carried jewelled fans, 
 and by councillors. It was the litter of the Inca Upanqui, and after 
 it marched a guard of picked warriors, perhaps there were a hundred of 
 them, not more. 
   
 The litter was set down in front of the throne; gilded curtains were 
 drawn and out of it came a man whose attire dazzled the eyes. It seemed 
 to consist of gold and precious stones sewn on to a mantle of crimson 
 wool. He wore a head-dress also of as many colours as Joseph's coat, 
 surmounted by two feathers, which he alone might bear, from which 
 head-dress a scarlet fringe that was made of tasselled wool hung down 
 upon his forehead. This was the Inca's crown, even to touch which was 
 death, and its name was _Lautu_. He was a very old man for his white 
 locks and beard hung down upon his splendid garments and he supported 
 himself upon his royal staff that was headed by a great emerald. His 
 fine-cut face also, though still kingly, was weak with age and his eyes 
 were blear. At the sight of him all rose and Huaracha descended from his 
 throne, saying in a loud voice: 
   
 "Welcome to the land of the Chancas, O Upanqui, Inca of the Quichuas." 
   
 The old monarch eyed him for a moment, then answered in a thin voice: 
   
 "Greeting to Huaracha, _Curaca_ of the Chancas." 
   
 Huaracha bowed and said: 
   
 "I thank you, but here among my own people my title is not _Curaca_, but 
 King, O Inca." 
   
 Upanqui drew himself up to his full height and replied: 
   
 "The Incas know no kings throughout the land of Tavantinsuyu save 
 themselves, O Huaracha." 
   
 "Be it so, O Inca; yet the Chancas, who are unconquered, know a king, 
 and I am he. I pray you be seated, O Inca." 
   
 Upanqui stood still for a moment frowning, and, as I thought, was about 
 to make some short answer, when suddenly his glance fell upon me and 
 changed the current of his mind. 
   
 "Is that the White-god-from-the-Sea?" he asked, with an almost childish 
 curiosity. "I heard that he was here, and to tell the truth that is why 
 I came, just to look at him, not to bandy words with you, O Huaracha, 
 who they say can only be talked to with a spear point. What a red beard 
 he has and how his coat shines. Let him come and worship me." 
   
 "He will come, but I do not think that he will worship. They say he is a 
 god himself, O Inca." 
   
 "Do they? Well, now I remember there are strange prophecies about a 
 white god who should rise out of the sea, as did the forefather of the 
 Incas. They say, too, that this god shall do much mischief to the land 
 when he comes. So perhaps he had better not draw too near to me, for I 
 like not the look of that great big sword of his. By the Sun, my father, 
 he is tall and big and strong" (I had risen from my chair) "and his 
 beard is like a fire; it will set the hearts of all the women burning, 
 though perhaps if he is a god he does not care for women. I must consult 
 my magicians about it, and the head priest of the Temple of the Sun. 
 Tell the White God to make ready to return with me to Cuzco." 
   
 "The lord Hurachi is my guest, O Inca, and here he bides with me," said 
 Huaracha. 
   
 "Nonsense, nonsense! When the Inca invites any one to his court, he must 
 come. But enough of him for the present. I came here to talk of other 
 matters. What were they? Let me sit down and think." 
   
 So he was conducted to his throne upon which he sat trying to collect 
 his mind, which I saw was weak with age. The end of it was that he 
 called to his aid a stern-faced, shifty-eyed, middle-aged minister, whom 
 after I came to know as the High-priest Larico, the private Councillor 
 of himself and of his son, Urco, and one of the most powerful men in 
 the kingdom. This noble, I noted, was one who had the rank of an Earman, 
 that is, he wore in his ear, which like that of Kari was stretched 
 out to receive it, a golden disc of the size of an apple, whereon was 
 embossed the image of the sun. 
   
 At a sign and a word from his dotard master this Larico began to speak 
 for him as though he were the Inca himself, saying: 
   
 "Hearken, O Huaracha. I have undertaken this toilsome journey, the last 
 I shall make as Inca, for be it known to you that I purpose to divest 
 myself of the royal Fringe in favour of the prince, Urco, begotten to 
 me in the body and of the Sun in spirit, and to retire to end my days in 
 peace at my palace of Yucay, waiting there patiently until it pleases my 
 father, the Sun, to take me to his bosom." 
   
 Here Larico paused to allow this great news to sink into the minds of 
 his hearers, and I thought to myself that when I died I would choose to 
 be gathered to any bosom rather than to that of the Sun, which put me in 
 mind of hell. Then he went on: 
   
 "Rumours have reached me, the Inca, that you, Huaracha, Chief of the 
 Chancas, are making ready to wage war upon my empire. It was to test 
 these rumours, although I did not believe them, that awhile ago I sent 
 an embassy to ask your only child, the lady Quilla, in marriage to the 
 prince Urco, promising, since he has no sister whom he may wed and since 
 on the mother's side she, your daughter, has the holy Inca blood in her 
 veins, that she should become his _Coya_, or Queen, and the mother of 
 him who shall succeed to the throne." 
   
 "The embassy came, and received my answer, O Inca," said Huaracha. 
   
 "Yes, and the answer was that the lady Quilla should be given in 
 marriage to the Prince Urco, but as she was absent on a visit, this 
 could not happen until she returned. But since then, O Huaracha, more 
 rumours have reached me that you still prepare for war and seek to 
 make alliances among my subjects, tempting them to rebel against me. 
 Therefore I am here myself to lead away the lady Quilla and to deliver 
 her to the Prince Urco." 
   
 "Why did not the Prince Urco come in person, O Inca?" 
   
 "For this reason, Huaracha, from whom I desire to hide nothing. If the 
 Prince had come, you might have set a trap for him and killed him, who 
 is the hope of the Empire." 
   
 "So I might for you, his father, O Inca." 
   
 "Aye, I know it, but what would that avail you while the Prince sits 
 safe at Cuzco ready to assume the Fringe? Also I am old and care not 
 when or how I die, whose work is done. Moreover, few would desire to 
 anger the gods by the murder of an aged guest, and therefore I visit 
 you sitting here in the midst of your armies with but a handful of 
 followers, trusting to your honour and to my father the Sun to protect 
 me. Now answer me--will you give the hand of your daughter to my son and 
 thereby make alliance with me, or will you wage war upon my empire and 
 be destroyed, you and your people together?" 
   
 Here Upanqui, who hitherto had been listening in silence to the words of 
 Larico, spoken on his behalf, broke in, saying: 
   
 "Yes, yes, that is right, only make him understand that the Inca will be 
 his over-lord, since the Inca can have no rivals in all the land." 
   
 "My answer is," said Huaracha, "that I will give my daughter in marriage 
 as I have promised, but that the Chancas are a free people and accept no 
 over-lord." 
   
 "Foolishness, foolishness!" said Upanqui. "As well might the tree say 
 that it would not bend before the wind. However, you can settle that 
 matter afterwards with Urco, and indeed with your daughter, who will be 
 his queen and is your heiress, for I understand you have no other lawful 
 child. Why talk of war and other troubles when thus your kingdom falls 
 to us by marriage? Now let me see this lady Quilla who is to become my 
 daughter." 
   
 Huaracha, who had listened to all this babble with a stern set face, 
 turned to Quilla and made a sign. She descended from her chair and 
 advancing, stood before the Inca, a vision of splendour and of beauty, 
 and bowed to him. He stared at her awhile, as did all his company, then 
 said: 
   
 "So you are the lady Quilla. A fair woman, a very fair woman, and a 
 proud, one who ought to be able to lead Urco aright if any one can. Well 
 named, too, after the moon, for the moonlight seems to shine in your 
 eyes, Lady Quilla. Indeed and indeed were I but a score of years younger 
 I should tell Urco to seek another queen and keep you for myself." 
   
 Then Quilla spoke for the first time, saying: 
   
 "Be it as you will, O Inca. I am promised in marriage to the Child of 
 the Sun and which child is nothing to me." 
   
 "Well said, Lady Quilla, and why should I wonder? Though I grow old they 
 tell me that I am still handsome, a great deal better looking than Urco, 
 in fact, who is a rough man and of a coarser type. You ask my wives when 
 you come to Cuzco; one of them told me the other day that there was no 
 one so handsome in the whole city, and earned a beautiful present 
 for her pretty speech. What is it you say, Larico? Why are you always 
 interfering with me? Well, perhaps you are right, and, Lady Quilla, if 
 you are ready, it is time to start. No, no, I thank you, Curaca, but I 
 will not stop for any feasting who desire to be back at my camp before 
 dark, since who knows what may happen to one in the dark in a strange 
 country?" 
   
 Then at last Huaracha grew angry. 
   
 "Be it as you will, O Inca," he said, "but know that you offer me a 
 threefold insult. First you refuse the feast that has been made ready 
 for you whereat you were to meet all the notables of my kingdom. 
 Secondly, you give me, who am a king, the title of a petty chief who 
 owns your rule. Thirdly, you throw doubts upon my honour, hinting that I 
 may cause you to be murdered in the dark. Now I am minded to say to 
 you, 'Begone from my poor country, Lord Inca, in safety, but leave my 
 daughter behind you.'" 
   
 Now at these words, I, Hubert, saw the fires of hope burn up in the 
 large eyes of Quilla, as they did in my own heart, for might they not 
 mean that she would escape from Urco after all? But, alas, they were 
 extinguished like a brand that is dipped in water. 
   
 "Tush, tush!" said the old dotard, "what a fire-eater are you, friend 
 Huaracha. Know that I never care to eat, except at night; also that the 
 chill of the air after my father the Sun has set makes my bones ache, 
 and as for titles--take any one you like, except that of Inca." 
   
 "Mayhap that is the one I shall take before all is done," broke in the 
 furious Huaracha, who would not be quieted by the councillors whispering 
 in his ears. 
   
 It was at this moment that the minister and high-priest, Larico, who had 
 been noting all that passed with an impassive face, said coldly: 
   
 "Be not wroth, O King Huaracha, and lay not too much weight upon the 
 idle words of the glorious Inca, since even the gods will doze at times 
 when they are weighed down by the cares of empire. No affront was meant 
 to you and least of all does the Inca or any one of us, dream that you 
 would tarnish your honour by offering violence to your guests by day 
 or by night. Yet know this, that if, after all that has been sworn, you 
 withhold your daughter, the lady Quilla, from the house of Urco who is 
 her lord to be, it will breed instant war, since as soon as word of it 
 comes to Cuzco, which will be within twenty hours, for messengers wait 
 all along the road, the great armies of the Inca that are gathered there 
 will begin to move. Judge, then, if you have the strength to withstand 
 them, and choose whether you will live on in glory and honour, or 
 bring yourself to death and your people to slavery. Now, King Huaracha, 
 speaking on behalf of Urco, who within some few moons will be Inca, I 
 ask you--will you suffer the lady Quilla to journey with us to Cuzco 
 and thereby proclaim peace between our peoples or will you keep her here 
 against your oath and hers, and thereby declare war?" 
   
 Huaracha sat silent, lost in thought, and the old Inca Upanqui began to 
 babble again, saying: 
   
 "Very well put, I could not have said it better myself; indeed, I did 
 say it, for this coxcomb of a Larico, who thinks himself so clever 
 just because I made him high-priest of the Sun under me and he is of my 
 blood, is after all nothing but the tongue in my mouth. You don't really 
 want to die, Huaracha, do you, after seeing most of your people killed 
 and your country wasted? For you know that is what must happen. If you 
 do not send your daughter as you promised, within a few hours a hundred 
 thousand men will be marching on you and another hundred thousand 
 gathering behind them. Anyhow, please make up your mind one way or 
 another, as I wish to leave this place." 
   
 Huaracha thought on awhile. Then he descended from his throne and 
 beckoned to Quilla. She came and he led her towards the back part of 
 the pavilion behind and a little to the left of the chair on which I sat 
 where none could hear their talk save me, of whom he seemed to take no 
 note, perhaps because he had forgotten me, or perhaps because he desired 
 that I should know all. 
   
 "Daughter," he said in a low voice, "what word? Before you answer 
 remember that if I refuse to send you, now for the first time I break my 
 oath." 
   
 "Of such oaths I think little," answered Quilla. "Yet of another thing I 
 think much. Tell me, my father, if the Inca declares war and attacks us, 
 can we withstand his armies?" 
   
 "No, Daughter, not until the Yuncas join us for we lack sufficient 
 men. Moreover, we are not ready, nor shall be for another two moons, or 
 more." 
   
 "Then it stands thus, Father. If I do not go the war will begin, and 
 if I do go it seems that it will be staved off until you are ready, or 
 perhaps for always, because I shall be the peace-offering and it will be 
 thought that I, your heiress, take your kingdom as my marriage portion 
 to be joined to that of the Incas at your death. Is it thus?" 
   
 "It is, Quilla. Only then you will work to bring it about that the Land 
 of the Incas shall be joined to the Land of the Chancas, and not that of 
 the Chancas to that of the Incas, so that in a day to come as Queen of 
 the Chancas you shall reign over both of them and your children after 
 you." 
   
 Now I, Hubert, watching Quilla out of the corners of my eyes, saw her 
 turn pale and tremble. 
   
 "Speak not to me of children," she said, "for I think that there will be 
 none, and talk not of future glories, since for these I care nothing. It 
 is for our people that I care. You swear to me that if I do not go your 
 armies will be defeated and that those who escape the spear will be 
 enslaved?" 
   
 "Aye, I swear it by the Moon your mother, also that I will die with my 
 soldiers." 
   
 "Yet if I go I leave behind me that which I love," here she glanced 
 towards me, "and give myself to shame, which is worse than death. Is 
 that your desire, my father?" 
   
 "That is not my desire. Remember, Daughter, that you were party to this 
 plan, aye, that it sprang from your far-seeing mind. Still, now that 
 your heart has changed, I would not hold you to your bargain, who desire 
 most of all things to see you happy at my side. Choose, therefore, and I 
 obey. On your head be it." 
   
 "What shall I say, O Lord, whom I saved from the sea?" asked Quilla in a 
 piercing whisper, but without turning her head towards me. 
   
 Now an agony took hold of me for I knew that what I bade her, that she 
 would say, and that perchance upon my answer hung the fate of all this 
 great Chanca people. If she went they would be saved, if she remained 
 perchance she would be my wife if only for a while. For the Chancas I 
 cared nothing and for the Quichuas I cared nothing, but Quilla was all 
 that remained to me in the world and if she went, it was to another man. 
 I would bid her bide. And yet--and yet if her case were mine and the 
 fate of England hung upon my breath, what then? 
   
 "Be swift," she whispered again. 
   
 Then I spoke, or something spoke through me, saying: 
   
 "Do what honour bids you, O Daughter of the Moon, for what is love 
 without honour? Perchance both shall still be yours at last." 
   
 "I thank you, Lord, whose heart speaks as my heart," she whispered for 
 the third time, then lifting her head and looking Huaracha in the eyes, 
 said: 
   
 "Father, I go, but that I will wed this Urco I do not promise." 
   
   
   
 CHAPTER VII 
   
 THE RETURN OF KARI 
   
 So Quilla, seated in a golden litter and accompanied by maidens as 
 became her rank, soon was borne away in the train of the Inca Upanqui, 
 leaving me desolate. Before she went, under pretence of bidding me 
 farewell, none denying her, she gained private speech with me for a 
 little while. 
   
 "Lord and Lover," she said, "I go to what fate I know not, leaving you 
 to what fate I know not, and as your lips have said, it is right that I 
 should go. Now I have something to ask of you--that you will not follow 
 me as it is in your heart to do. But last night I prayed of you to dog 
 my steps and wherever I might go to keep close to me, that the knowledge 
 of your presence might be my comfort. Now my mind is different. If I 
 must be married to this Urco, I would not have you see me in my shame. 
 And if I escape marriage you cannot help me, since I may only do so by 
 death or by taking refuge where you cannot come. Also I have another 
 reason." 
   
 "What reason, Quilla?" I asked. 
   
 "This: I ask that you will stop with my father and give him your help in 
 the war that must come. I would see this Urco crushed, but without that 
 help I am sure that the Chancas and the Yuncas are too weak to overthrow 
 the Inca might. Remember that if I escape marriage thus only can you 
 hope to win me, namely, by the defeat and death of Urco. Say, then, 
 that you will stay here and help to lead the Chanca armies, and say 
 it swiftly, since that dotard, Upanqui, frets to be gone. Hark! his 
 messengers call and search; my women can hold them back no more." 
   
 "I will stay," I answered hoarsely. 
   
 "I thank you, and now farewell, till in life or death we meet again. 
 Thoughts come to my mind which I have no time to utter." 
   
 "To mine also, Quilla, and here is one of them. You know the man who was 
 with me on the island. Well, he is more than he seems." 
   
 "So I guessed, but where is he now?" 
   
 "In hiding, Quilla. If you should chance to find him, bear in mind that 
 he is an enemy of Urco and one not friendless; also that he loves me 
 after his fashion. Trust him, I pray you. Urco is not the only one of 
 the Inca blood, Quilla." 
   
 She glanced at me quickly and nodded her head. Then without more words, 
 for officers were pressing towards us, she drew a ring off her finger, 
 a thick and ancient golden ring on which were cut what looked like 
 flowers, or images of the sun, and gave it to me. 
   
 "Wear this for my sake. It is very old and has a story of true love that 
 I have no time to tell," she said. 
   
 I took it and in exchange passed to her that ancient ring which my 
 mother had given to me, the ring that had come down to her with the 
 sword Wave-Flame, saying: 
   
 "This, too, is old and has a story; wear it in memory of me." 
   
 Then we parted and presently she was gone. 
   
 I stood watching her litter till it vanished in the evening haze. Then I 
 turned to go to find myself face to face with Huaracha. 
   
 "Lord-from-the-Sea," he said, "you have played a man's--or a god's--part 
 to-day. Had you bidden my daughter bide here, she would have done so for 
 love of you and the Chanca people must have been destroyed, for as that 
 old Inca or his spokesman told us, the breaking of my oath would have 
 been taken as a declaration of instant war. Now we have breathing time, 
 and in the end things may go otherwise." 
   
 "Yes," I answered, "but what of Quilla and what of me?" 
   
 "I know not your creed or what with you is honour, White Lord, but among 
 us whom perhaps you think of small account, it is thought and held that 
 there are times when a man or a woman, especially if they be highly 
 placed, must do sacrifice for the good of the many who cling to them 
 for guidance and for safety. This you and my daughter have done and 
 therefore I honour both of you." 
   
 "To what end is the sacrifice made?" I asked bitterly. "That one people 
 may struggle for dominion over another people, no more." 
   
 "You are mistaken, Lord. Not for victory or to increase my dominions 
 do I desire to war upon the Incas, but because unless I strike I shall 
 presently be struck, though for a little while this marriage might hold 
 back the blow. Alone in the midst of the vast territories over which 
 the Incas rule, the Chancas stem their tide of conquest and remain free 
 amongst many nations of slaved. Therefore for ages these Incas, like 
 those who ruled before them at Cuzco, have sworn to destroy us, and Urco 
 has sworn it above all." 
   
 "Urco might die or be deposed, Huaracha." 
   
 "If so another would put on the Fringe and be vowed to the ancient 
 policy that does not change from generation to generation. Therefore I 
 must fight or perish with my people. Hearken, Lord-from-the-Sea! Stay 
 here with me and become as my brother and a general of my armies, for 
 where will they not follow when you lead, who are held to be a god? Then 
 if we conquer, in reward, from a brother you shall become a son, and to 
 you after me I swear shall pass the Chanca crown. Moreover, to you, 
 if she can be saved, I will give in marriage her whom you love. Think 
 before you refuse. I know not whence you come, but this I know: that you 
 can return thither no more, unless, indeed, you are a spirit. Here your 
 lot is cast till death. Therefore make it glorious. Perchance you might 
 fly to the Inca and there become a marvel and a show, furnished with 
 gold and palaces and lands, but always you would be a servant, while I 
 offer to you a crown and the rule of a people great and free." 
   
 "I care nothing for crowns," I answered, sighing. "Still, such was 
 Quilla's prayer, perchance the last that ever she will make to me. 
 Therefore I accept and will serve you and your cause, that seems noble, 
 faithfully to the end, O Huaracha." 
   
 Then I stretched out my hand to him and so our compact was sealed. 
   
   
   
 On the very next day my work began. Huaracha made me known to his 
 captains, commanding them to obey me in all things, which, looking on me 
 as half divine, they did readily enough. 
   
 Now, of soldiering I knew little who was a seaman bred, yet as I had 
 learned, a man of the English race in however strange a country he finds 
 himself can make a path there to his ends. 
   
 Moreover, in London I had heard much talk of armies and their ordering 
 and often watched troops at their exercise; also I know how to handle 
 bow and sword, and was accustomed to the management of men. So putting 
 all these memories together, I set myself to the task of turning a 
 mob of half-savage fellows with arms into an ordered host. I created 
 regiments and officered them with the best captains that I could find, 
 collecting in each regiment so far as possible the people of a certain 
 town or district. These companies I drilled and exercised, teaching them 
 to use such weapons as they had to the best purpose. 
   
 Also I caused them to shape stronger bows on the model of my own with 
 which I had shot the three Frenchmen far away at Hastings that, as it 
 was said, once had been the battle-bow of Thorgrimmer the Norseman 
 my ancestor, as the sword Wave-Flame was his battle-sword. When these 
 Chancas saw how far and with what a good aim I could shoot with this 
 bow, they strove day and night to learn to equal me, though it is 
 true they never did. Also I bettered their body-armour of quilting by 
 settings sheets of leather (since in that country there is no iron) 
 taken from the hides of wild animals and of their long-haired native 
 sheep, between the layers of cotton. Other things I did also, too many 
 and long to record. 
   
 The end of it was that within three months Huaracha had an army of some 
 fifty thousand men who, if not well trained, still kept discipline, and 
 could move in regiments; who knew also how to shoot with their bows and 
 to use their copper-headed spears and axes of that metal, or of hard 
 stone, to the best purpose. 
   
 Then at length came the Yuncas to join us, thirty or forty thousand of 
 them, wild fellows and brave enough, but undisciplined. With these I 
 could do little since time was lacking, save send some of the officers 
 whom I had trained to teach their chiefs and captains what they were 
 able. 
   
 Thus I was employed from dawn till dark and often after it, in talk with 
 Huaracha and his generals, or in drawing plans with ink that I found a 
 means to make, upon parchment of sheepskin and noting down numbers and 
 other things, a sight at which these people who knew nothing of writing 
 marvelled very much. Great were my labours, yet in them I found more 
 happiness than I had known since that fatal day when I, the rich 
 London merchant, Hubert of Hastings, had stood before the altar of St. 
 Margaret's church with Blanche Aleys. Indeed, every cranny of my time 
 and mind being thus filled with things finished or attempted, I forgot 
 my great loneliness as an alien in a strange land, and once more became 
 as I had been when I trafficked in the Cheap. 
   
 But toil as I would, I could not forget Quilla. During the day I might 
 mask her memory in its urgent business, but when I lay down to rest she 
 seemed to come to me as a ghost might do and to stand by my bed, looking 
 at me with sad and longing eyes. So real was her presence that sometimes 
 I began to believe that she must have died to the world and was in truth 
 a ghost, or else that she had found the power to throw her soul afar, 
 as it is said certain of these Indian folk, if so they should be called, 
 can do. At least there she seemed to be while I remained awake and 
 afterwards when I slept, and I know not whether her strange company 
 joyed or pained me more. For alas! she could not talk to me, or tell me 
 how it fared with her, and, to speak truth, now that she was the wife of 
 another man, as I supposed, I desired to forget her if I could. 
   
 For of Quilla no word reached us. We heard that she had come safely to 
 Cuzco and after that nothing more. Of her marriage there was no tidings; 
 indeed she seemed to have vanished away. Certain of Huaracha's spies 
 reported to him, however, that the great army which Urco had gathered to 
 attack him had been partly disbanded, which seemed to show that the Inca 
 no longer prepared for immediate war. Only then what had happened to 
 Quilla, whose person was the price of peace? Perhaps she was hidden 
 away during the preparations for her nuptials; at least I could think 
 of nothing else, unless indeed she had chosen to kill herself or died 
 naturally. 
   
 Soon, however, all news ceased, for Huaracha shut his frontiers, hoping 
 that thus Urco might not learn that he was gathering armies. 
   
 At length, when our forces were almost ready to march, Kari came, Kari 
 whom I thought lost. 
   
 One night when I was seated at my work by lamplight, writing down 
 numbers upon a parchment, a shadow fell across it, and looking up I saw 
 Kari standing before me, travel-worn and weary, but Kari without doubt, 
 unless I dreamed. 
   
 "Have you food, Lord?" he asked while I stared at him. "I need it and 
 would eat before I speak." 
   
 I found meat and native beer and brought them to him, for it was late 
 and my servants were asleep, waiting till he had filled himself, for by 
 this time I had learned something of the patience of these people. At 
 length he spoke, saying: 
   
 "Huaracha's watch is good, and to pass it I must journey far into the 
 mountains and sleep three nights without food amid their snows." 
   
 "Whence come you?" I asked. 
   
 "From Cuzco, Lord." 
   
 "Then what of the lady Quilla? Does she still live? Is she wed to Urco?" 
   
 "She lives, or lived fourteen days ago, and she is not wed. But where 
 she is no man may ever come. You have looked your last upon the lady 
 Quilla, Lord." 
   
 "If she lives and is unwed, why?" I asked, trembling. 
   
 "Because she is numbered among the Virgins of the Sun our Father, and 
 therefore inviolate to man. Were I the Inca, though I love you and know 
 all, should you attempt to take her, yes, even you, I would kill you if 
 I could, and with my own sword. In our land, Lord, there is one crime 
 which has no forgiveness, and that is to lay hands upon a Virgin of the 
 Sun. We believe, Lord, that if this is done, great curses will fall upon 
 our country, while as for the man who works the crime, before he passes 
 to eternal vengeance he and all his house and the town whence he came 
 must perish utterly, and that false virgin who has betrayed our father, 
 the Sun, must die slowly and by fire." 
   
 "Has this ever chanced?" I asked. 
   
 "History does not tell it, Lord, since none have been so wicked, but 
 such is the law." 
   
 I thought to myself that it was a very evil law, and cruel; also that I 
 would break it if I found opportunity, but made no answer, knowing when 
 to be silent and that I might as well strive to move a mountain from 
 its base as to turn Kari from the blindness of his folly bred of false 
 faith. After all, could I blame him, seeing that we held the same of 
 the sacredness of nuns and, it was said, killed them if they broke their 
 vows? 
   
 "What news, Kari?" I asked. 
   
 "Much, Lord. Hearken. Disguised as a peasant who had come into this 
 country to barter wool from a village near to Cuzco, I joined myself to 
 the train of the Inca Upanqui, among whose lords I found a friend who 
 had loved me in past years and kept my secret as he was bound to do, 
 having passed into the brotherhood of knights with me while we were 
 lads. Through him, in place of a man who was sick, I became one of the 
 bearers of the lady Quilla's litter and thus was always about her and 
 at times had speech with her in secret, for she knew me again 
 notwithstanding my disguise and uniform. So I became one of those who 
 waited on her when she ate and noted all that passed. 
   
 "After the first day the Inca Upanqui, he who is my father and whose 
 lawful heir I am, although he discarded me for Urco and believes me 
 dead, made it a habit to take his food in the same tent or rest-house 
 chamber as the lady Quilla. Lord, being very clever, she set herself to 
 charm him, so that soon he began to dote upon her, as old, worn-out men 
 sometimes do upon young and beautiful women. She, too, pretended to grow 
 fond of him and at last told him in so many words that she grieved it 
 was not he that she was to marry whose wisdom she hung upon, in place of 
 a prince who, she heard, was not wise. This, she said, because she knew 
 well that the Inca would never marry any more and indeed had lived alone 
 for years. Still, being flattered, he told her it was hard that she 
 should be forced to wed one to whom she had no mind, whereon she prayed 
 him, even with tears, to save her from such a fate. At last he vowed 
 that he would do so by setting her among the Virgins of the Sun on whom 
 no man may look. She thanked him and said that she would consider the 
 matter, since, for reasons that you may guess, Lord, she did not desire 
 to become a Virgin of the Sun and to pass the rest of her days in prayer 
 and the weaving of the Inca's garments. 
   
 "So it went on until when we were a day's march from Cuzco, Urco, my 
 brother, came to meet his promised bride. Now, Urco is a huge man and 
 hideous, one whom none would believe to have been born of the Inca 
 blood. Coarse he is, and dissolute, given to drink also, though a great 
 fighter and brave in battle, and quick-brained when he is sober. I was 
 present when they met and I saw the lady Quilla shiver and turn pale 
 at the sight of him, while he on his part devoured her beauty with his 
 eyes. They spoke but few words together, yet before these were done, 
 he told her it was his will that they should be wed at once on the day 
 after she came to Cuzco, nor would he listen to the Inca Upanqui who 
 said, being cunning and wishing to gain time, that due preparation must 
 be made for so great a business. 
   
 "Thereupon Urco grew angry with his father, who both fears and loves 
 him, and answered that, being almost Inca, this matter was one which he 
 would settle for himself. So fierce was he that Upanqui became afraid 
 and went away. When they were alone Urco strove to embrace Quilla, but 
 she fled from him and hid with her maidens in a private place. After 
 this, at the feast Urco took too much drink according to his custom and 
 was led away to sleep by his lords. Then Quilla waited upon the Inca and 
 said: 
   
 "'O Inca, I have seen the Prince and I claim your promise to save me 
 from him. O Inca, abandoning all thought of marriage, I will become the 
 bride of our Father the Sun.' 
   
 "Upanqui, who was wroth with Urco because he had crossed his will, swore 
 by the Sun itself that he would not fail her, come what might, since 
 Urco should learn that he was not yet Inca." 
   
 "What happened then?" I asked, staring him in the eyes. 
   
 "After this, Lord, when we were halted before making the state entry 
 into Cuzco, for a moment the lady Quilla found opportunity for private 
 speech with me. This is what she said: 
   
 "'Tell my father, King Huaracha, that I have fulfilled his oath, but 
 that I cannot marry Urco. Therefore I seek refuge in the arms of the 
 Sun, as the oracle Rimac foretold that I should do, having to choose 
 between this fate and that of death. Tell my Lord-from-the-Sea what has 
 befallen me and bid him farewell to me. Still say that he must keep a 
 good heart, since I do not believe that all is ended between us.' 
   
 "Then we were parted and I saw her no more." 
   
 "And did you hear no more, Kari?" 
   
 "I heard much, Lord. I heard that when Urco learned that the lady Quilla 
 had vanished away into the House of Virgins, whither he might not come, 
 and that he was robbed of the bride whom he desired, he grew mad with 
 rage. Indeed, of this I saw something myself. Two days later, with 
 thousands of others I was in the great square in front of the Temple 
 of the Sun, where the Inca Upanqui sat in state upon a golden throne to 
 receive the praise of his people upon his safe return after his long and 
 hard journey, and as some reported, to lay down his lordship in favour 
 of Urco; also to tell the people that the danger of war with the Chancas 
 had passed away. Scarcely had the ceremony begun when Urco appeared at 
 the head of a number of lords and princes of the Inca blood, who are of 
 his clan, and I noticed that he was drunk and furious. He advanced to 
 the foot of the throne, almost without obeisance, and shouted: 
   
 "'Where is the lady Quilla, daughter of Huaracha, who is promised to me 
 in marriage, Inca? Why have you hidden her away, Inca?' 
   
 "'Because the Sun, our Father, has claimed her as his bride and has 
 taken her to dwell in his holy house, where never again may the eyes of 
 man behold her, Prince!' answered Upanqui. 
   
 "'You mean that robbing me, you have taken her for yourself, Inca,' 
 shouted Urco again. 
   
 "Then Upanqui stood up and swore by the Sun that this was not so and 
 that what he had done was done by the decree of the god and at the 
 prayer of the lady Quilla, who having seen Urco, had declared that 
 either she would be wed to the god or die by her own hand, which would 
 bring the vengeance of the Sun upon the people. 
   
 "Then Urco went mad. He raved at the Inca and while all present shivered 
 with fear, he cursed the Sun our Father, yes, even when a cloud came up 
 in the clear sky and veiled the face of the god, heedless of the omen, 
 he continued his curses and blasphemy. Moreover, he said that soon he 
 would be Inca and that then, if he must tear the House of Virgins stone 
 from stone, as Inca he would drag forth the lady Quilla and make her his 
 wife. 
   
 "Now at these words Upanqui stood up and rent his robes. 
   
 "'Must my ears be outraged with such blasphemies?' he cried. 'Know, Son 
 Urco, that this day I was minded to take off the Royal Fringe and to set 
 it on your head, crowning you Inca in my place while I withdrew to 
 pass the remainder of my days at Yucay in peace and prayer. My will is 
 changed. This I shall not do. My life is not done and strength returns 
 to my mind and body. Here I stay as Inca. Now I see that I am punished 
 for my sin.' 
   
 "'What sin?' shouted Urco. 
   
 "'The sin of setting you before my eldest lawful son, Kari, whose wife 
 you stole; Kari, whom also it is said you poisoned and who at least has 
 vanished and is doubtless dead.' 
   
 "Now, Lord, when I, Kari, heard this my heart melted in me and I was 
 minded to declare myself to Upanqui my father. But while I weighed the 
 matter for a moment, knowing that if I did so, such words as these might 
 well be my last since Urco had many of is following present, who perhaps 
 would fall upon and kill me, suddenly my father Upanqui fell forward 
 in a swoon. His lords and physicians bore him away. Urco followed and 
 presently the multitude departed this way and that. Afterwards we were 
 told that the Inca had recovered but must not be disturbed for many 
 days." 
   
 "Did you hear more of Quilla, Kari?" 
   
 "Yes, Lord," he answered gravely. "It was commonly reported that, 
 through some priestess in his pay, Urco had poisoned her, saying that as 
 she had chosen the Sun as husband, to the Sun she would go." 
   
 "Poisoned her!" I muttered, well-nigh falling to the ground. "Poisoned 
 her!" 
   
 "Aye, Lord, but be comforted for this was added--that she who gave 
 the poison was taken in the act by her who is named the Mother of the 
 Virgins, and handed over to the women who cast her into the den of 
 serpents, where she perished, screaming that it was Urco who had forced 
 her to the deed." 
   
 "That does not comfort me, man. What of Quilla? Did she die?" 
   
 "Lord, it is said not. It is said that the Mother of the Virgins dashed 
 away the cup as it touched her lips. But this is said also, that some of 
 the poison flew into her eyes and blinded her." 
   
 I groaned, for the thought of Quilla blinded was horrible. 
   
 "Again take comfort, Lord, since perchance she may recover from this 
 blindness. Also I was told, that although she can see nothing, her 
 beauty is not marred; that the venom indeed has made her eyes seem 
 larger and more lovely even than they were before." 
   
 I made no answer, who feared that Kari was deceiving me or perhaps was 
 himself deceived and that Quilla was dead. Presently he continued his 
 story in the same quiet, even voice, saying: 
   
 "Lord, after this I sought out certain of my friends who had loved me in 
 my youth and my mother also while she lived, revealing myself to them. 
 We made plans together, but before aught could be done in earnest, it 
 was needful that I should see my father Upanqui. While I was waiting 
 till he had recovered from the stroke that fell upon him, some spy 
 betrayed me to Urco, who searched for me to kill me and well-nigh found 
 me. The end of it was that I was forced to fly, though before I did so 
 many swore themselves to my cause who would escape from the tyranny of 
 Urco. Moreover, it was agreed that if I returned with soldiers at my 
 back, they and their followers would come out to join me to the number 
 of thousands, and help me to take my own again so that I may be Inca 
 after Upanqui my father. Therefore I have come back here to talk with 
 you and Huaracha. 
   
 "Such is my tale." 
   
   
   
 CHAPTER VIII 
   
 THE FIELD OF BLOOD 
   
 When on the morrow Huaracha, King of the Chancas, heard all this story 
 and that Urco had given poison to his daughter Quilla, who, if she still 
 lived at all, did so, it was said, as a blind woman, a kind of madness 
 took hold of him. 
   
 "Now let war come; I will not rest or stay," he cried, "till I see 
 this hound, Urco, dead, and hang up his skin stuffed with straw as an 
 offering to his own god, the Sun." 
   
 "Yet it was you, King Huaracha, who sent the lady Quilla to this Urco 
 for your own purposes," said Kari in his quiet fashion. 
   
 "Who and what are you that reprove me?" asked Huaracha turning on him. 
 "I only know you as the servant or slave of the White-Lord-from-the-Sea, 
 though it is true I have heard stories concerning you," he added. 
   
 "I am Kari, the first-born lawful son of Upanqui and by right heir to 
 the Inca throne, no less, O Huaracha. Urco my brother robbed me of my 
 wife, as through the folly of my father, upon whose heart Urco's mother 
 worked, he had already robbed me of my inheritance. Then, to make sure, 
 he strove to poison me as he has poisoned your daughter, with a 
 poison that would make me mad and incapable of rule, yet leave me 
 living--because he feared lest the curse of the Sun should fall upon 
 him if he murdered me. I recovered from that bane and wandered to a far 
 land. Now I have returned to take my own, if I am able. All that I say I 
 can prove to you." 
   
 For a while Huaracha stared at him astonished, then said: 
   
 "And if you prove it, what do you ask of me, O Kari?" 
   
 "The help of your armies to enable me to overthrow Urco, who is very 
 strong, being the Commander of the Quichua hosts." 
   
 "And if your tale be true and Urco is overthrown, what do you promise me 
 in return?" 
   
 "The independence of the Chanca people, who otherwise must soon be 
 destroyed, and certain other added territories which you covet, while I 
 am Inca." 
   
 "And with this my daughter, if she still lives?" asked Huaracha looking 
 at him. 
   
 "Nay," replied Kari firmly. "As to the lady Quilla I promise nothing. 
 She has vowed herself to my Father the Sun, and what I have already told 
 the Lord Hurachi here, who loves her I tell you. Henceforward no man 
 may look upon her, who is the Bride of the Sun, for if I suffered this, 
 certainly the curse of the Sun would fall upon me and upon my people. 
 He who lays a hand upon her I will strive to slay"--here he looked at me 
 with meaning--"because I must or be accurst. Take all else, but let the 
 lady Quilla be. What the Sun has, he holds forever." 
   
 "Perhaps the Moon, her mother, may have something to say in that 
 matter," said Huaracha gloomily. "Still, let it lie for the while." 
   
 Then they fell to discussing the terms of their alliance and, when it 
 came to battle, what help Kari could bring from among those who clung to 
 him in Cuzco. 
   
 After this Huaracha took me to another chamber, where we debated the 
 business. 
   
 "This Kari, if he be Kari himself, is a bigot," he said, "and if he has 
 his way, neither you nor I will ever set eyes on Quilla again, because 
 to him it is sacrilege. So, what say you?" 
   
 I answered that it would be best to make an alliance with Kari, whom 
 I knew to be honest and no Pretender, since without his help I did not 
 think that it would be possible to defeat the armies of the People of 
 the Incas. For the rest, we must trust to chance, making no promises as 
 to Quilla. 
   
 "If we did they would avail little," said Huaracha, "seeing that without 
 doubt she is dead and only vengeance remains to us. There is more poison 
 in Cuzco, White Lord!" 
   
   
   
 Eight days later we were marching on Cuzco, a great host of us, 
 numbering at least forty thousand Chancas and twenty-five thousand of 
 the rebellious Yuncas, who had joined our standard. 
   
 On we marched by the great road over mountains and across plains, 
 driving with us numberless herds of the native sheep for food, but 
 meeting no man, since so soon as we were out of the territory of the 
 Chancas all fled at our approach. At length one night we camped upon a 
 hill named Carmenca and saw beneath us at a distance the mighty city of 
 Cuzco standing in a valley through which a river ran. There it was with 
 its huge fortresses built of great blocks of stone, its temples, its 
 palaces, its open squares, and its countless streets bordered by low 
 houses. Moreover, beyond and around it we saw other things, namely, the 
 camps of a vast army dotted with thousands of white tents. 
   
 "Urco is ready for us," said Kari to me grimly as he pointed to these 
 tents. 
   
 We camped upon the hill Carmenca and that night there came to us an 
 embassy which spoke in the names of Upanqui and Urco, as though they 
 reigned jointly. This embassy of great lords who all wore discs of 
 gold in their ears asked us what was our purpose. Huaracha answered--to 
 avenge the murder of the lady Quilla, his daughter, that he heard had 
 been poisoned by Urco. 
   
 "How know you that she is dead?" asked the spokesman. 
   
 "If she is not dead," replied Huaracha, "show her to us." 
   
 "That may not be," replied the spokesman, "since if she lives, it is in 
 the House of the Virgins of the Sun, whence none come out and where none 
 go in. Hearken, O Huaracha. Go back whence you came, or the countless 
 army of the Incas will fall upon you and destroy you, you and your 
 handful together." 
   
 "That is yet to be seen," answered Huaracha, and without more words the 
 embassy withdrew. 
   
 That night also men crept into our camp secretly, who were of the party 
 of Kari. Of Quilla they seemed to know nothing, for none spoke of those 
 over whom the veil of the Sun had fallen. They told us, however, that 
 the old Inca, Upanqui, was still in Cuzco and had recovered somewhat 
 from his sickness. Also they said that now the feud between him and Urco 
 was bitter, but that Urco had the upper hand and was still in command of 
 the armies. These armies, they declared, were immense and would fight us 
 on the morrow, adding, however, that certain regiments of them who were 
 of the party of Kari would desert to us in the battle. Lastly, they 
 said that there was great fear in Cuzco, since none knew how that battle 
 would end, which was understood by all to be one for the dominion of 
 Tavantinsuyu. 
   
 They had nothing more to say except that they prayed the Sun for our 
 success to save them from the tyranny of Urco. This prince, it appeared, 
 suspected their conspiracy, for now the rumour that Kari lived was 
 everywhere, and having obtained the names of some who were connected 
 with it through his spies, he pursued them with murder and sudden death. 
 They were poisoned at their food; they were stabbed as they walked 
 through the streets at night; their wives, if young and fair, vanished 
 away, as they believed into the houses of those who desired them; even 
 their children were kidnapped, doubtless to become the servants of 
 whom they knew not. They had complained of these things to the old 
 Inca Upanqui, but without avail, since in such matters he was powerless 
 before Urco who had command of the armies. Therefore they would even 
 welcome the triumph of Huaracha, which meant that Kari would become Inca 
 if with lessened territory. 
   
 Before they parted to play their parts, Kari brought them before me, 
 whom in their foolishness they worshipped, believing me to be in truth a 
 god. Then he told them to have no fear, since I would command the armies 
 of Huaracha in the battle. 
   
 Having surveyed the ground while the light lasted, for the most of that 
 night, together with Huaracha and Kari, I toiled, making plans for 
 the great fight that was to come. All being ready, I lay down to sleep 
 awhile, wondering whether it were the last time I should do so upon the 
 earth and, to tell the truth, not caring overmuch who, believing that 
 Quilla was dead, had it not been for my sins which weighed upon me with 
 none to whom I might confess them, should have been glad to leave the 
 world and its troubles for whatever might lie beyond, even if it were 
 but sleep. 
   
 There comes a time to most men when above everything they desire rest, 
 and now that hour was with me, the exiled and the desolate. Here in this 
 
 
 
 strange country and among these alien people I had found one soul which 
 was akin to mine, that of a beautiful woman who loved me and whom I 
 had come to love and desire. But what was the end of it? Owing to the 
 necessities of statecraft and her own nobleness, she had been separated 
 from me and although, as it would seem, she had as yet escaped 
 defilement, was spirited away into the temple of some barbarous worship 
 where I was almost sure death had found her. 
   
 At the best she was blinded, and where she lay in her darkness no man 
 might come because of the superstitions of these folk. Even if Kari 
 became Inca, it would not help me or her, should she still live, since 
 he was the fiercest bigot of them all and swore that he would kill me, 
 his friend, rather than that I should touch her, the vowed to his false 
 gods. 
   
 Or perhaps, through the priests, to save himself such sorrow, he 
 would kill her. At the least, dead or not, she was lost to me, while 
 I--utterly alone--must fight for a cause in which I had but one concern, 
 to bring some savage prince to his end because of his crime against 
 Quilla. And, if things went well and this chanced, what of the Future? 
 Of what use to me were rewards that I did not want, and the worship of 
 the vulgar which I hated? Rather would I have lived out my life as the 
 humblest fisherman on Hastings beach, than be made a king over these 
 glittering barbarians with their gold and gems which could buy nothing 
 that I needed, not even a Book of Hours to feed my soul, or the sound of 
 the English tongue to comfort my empty heart. 
   
 At length I fell asleep, and as it seemed but a few minutes later, 
 though really six hours had gone by, was awakened by Kari, who told 
 me that the dawn was not far off and came to help me to buckle on my 
 armour. Then I went forth and together with Huaracha arranged our army 
 for battle. Our plan was to advance from our rising ground across a 
 great plain beneath us which was called Xaqui, but afterwards became 
 known by the name of Yahuar-pampa, or Field of Blood. 
   
 This plain lay between us and the city of Cuzco, and my thought was that 
 we would march or fight our way across it and rush into the city which 
 was unwalled, and there amidst its streets and houses await the attack 
 of the Inca hosts that were encamped upon its farther side, for thus 
 protected by their walls we hoped that we should be more equal to them. 
 Yet things happened otherwise, since with the first light, without which 
 we did not dare to move over unknown ground, we perceived that during 
 the darkness the Inca armies had moved round and through the town and 
 were gathered by the ten thousand in dense battalions upon the farther 
 side of the plain. 
   
 Now we took council together and in the end decided not to attack as we 
 had proposed, but to await their onslaught on the rocky ridge up which 
 they must climb. So we commanded that our army, which was marshalled 
 in three divisions abreast and two wings with the Yuncas as a reserve 
 behind, should eat and make ready. In the centre of our main division, 
 which numbered some fifteen thousand of the Chanca troops, and a little 
 in front of it, was a low long hill upon the highest point of which 
 I took my place, standing upon a rock with a group of captains and 
 messengers behind me and a guard of about a thousand picked men massed 
 upon the slopes and around the hill. From this high point I could see 
 everything, and in my glittering armour was visible to all, friends and 
 foes together. 
   
 After a pause, during which the priests of the Chancas and of the Yuncas 
 behind us sacrificed sheep to the moon and the many other gods they 
 worshipped, and those of the Quichuas, as I could see from my rock, made 
 prayers and offerings to the rising sun, with a mighty shouting the Inca 
 hosts began to advance across the plain towards us. Reckoning them with 
 my eye I saw that they outnumbered us by two or three to one; indeed 
 their hordes seemed to be countless, and always more of them came on 
 behind from the dim recesses of the city. Divided into three great 
 armies they crept across the plain, a wild and gorgeous spectacle, 
 the sunlight shining upon the forest of their spears and on their rich 
 barbaric uniforms. 
   
 A furlong or more away they halted and took counsel, pointing to me with 
 their spears as though they feared me. We stood quite still, though 
 some of our generals urged that we should charge, but this I counselled 
 Huaracha not to do, who desired that the Quichuas should break their 
 strength upon us. At length some word was given; the splendid "rainbow 
 Banner" of the Incas was unfurled and, still divided into three armies 
 with a wide stretch of plain between each of them they attacked, yelling 
 like all the fiends of hell. 
   
 Now they had reached us and there began the most terrible battle that 
 was told of in the history of that land. Wave after wave of them rolled 
 up against us, but our battalions which I had not trained in vain stood 
 like rocks and slew and slew and slew till the dead could be counted by 
 the thousand. Again and again they strove to storm the hill on which I 
 stood, hoping to kill me, and each time we beat them back. Picking out 
 their generals I loosed shaft after shaft from my long bow, and seldom 
 did I miss, nor could their cotton-quilted armour turn those bitter 
 arrows. 
   
 "_The shafts of the god! The shafts of the god!_" they cried, and shrank 
 back from before me. 
   
 There appeared a man with a yellow fillet on his head and a robe that 
 was studded with precious stones; a huge man with great limbs and 
 flaming eyes; a loose-mouthed, hideous man who wielded a big axe of 
 copper and carried a bow longer than any I had seen in that land. 
 Hooking the axe to his belt, he set an arrow on the bow and let drive at 
 me. It sped true and struck me full upon the breast, only to shatter on 
 the good French mail, which copper could not pierce. 
   
 Again he shot, and this time the arrow glanced from my helm. Then I drew 
 on him and my shaft, that I had aimed at his head, cut away the fringe 
 about his brow and carried it far away. At this sight a groan went up 
 from the lords about him, and one cried: 
   
 "An omen, O Urco, an evil omen!" 
   
 "Aye," he shouted, "for the White Wizard who shot the arrow." 
   
 Dropping the bow, he rushed up the hill at me roaring, axe aloft, and 
 followed by his company. He smote, and I caught the blow upon my shield, 
 and striking back with Wave-Flame, shore through the shaft of the axe 
 that he had lifted to guard his head as though it had been made of reed, 
 aye, and through the quilted cotton on his shoulder strengthened with 
 strips of gold, and to the bone beneath. 
   
 Then a man slipped past me. It was Kari, striking at Urco with Deleroy's 
 sword. They closed and rolled down the slope locked in each other's 
 arms. What chanced after this I do not know, for others rushed in and 
 all grew confused, but presently Kari limped back somewhat shaken and 
 bleeding, and I caught sight of Urco, little hurt, as it seemed, amidst 
 his lords at the bottom of the slope. 
   
 At this moment I heard a great shouting and looking round, saw that the 
 Quichuas had broken through our left and were slaughtering many, while 
 the rest fled, also that our right was wavering. I sent messengers to 
 Huaracha, bidding him call up the Yunca rear guard. They were slow in 
 coming and I began to fear that all was lost for little by little the 
 hordes of the men of Cuzco were surrounding us. 
   
 Then it was that Kari, or some with him, lifted a banner that had been 
 wrapped upon a pole, a blue banner upon which was embroidered a 
 golden sun. At the sight of it there was tumult in the Inca ranks, and 
 presently a great body of men, five or six thousand of them that had 
 seemed to be in reserve, ran forward shouting, "_Kari! Kari!_" and fell 
 upon those who were pursuing our shattered left, breaking them up and 
 dispersing them. Also at last the Yuncas came up and drove back the 
 regiments that assailed our right, while from Urco's armies there rose a 
 cry of "Treachery!" 
   
 Trumpets blew and the Inca host, gathering itself together and 
 abandoning its dead and wounded, drew back sullenly on to the plain, and 
 there halted in three bodies as before, though much lessened in number. 
   
 Huaracha appeared, saying: 
   
 "Strike, White Lord! It is our hour! The heart is out of them." 
   
 The signal was given, and roaring like a hurricane, presently the 
 Chancas charged. Down the slope they went, I at the head of them with 
 Huaracha on one side and Kari on the other. The swift-footed Chancas 
 outran me who was hindered by my mail. We charged in three masses as we 
 had stood on the ridge, following those open lanes of ground up which 
 the foe had not come, because these were less cumbered with dead and 
 wounded. Presently I saw why those of Cuzco had left these lanes untrod, 
 for of a sudden some warriors, who had outstripped me, vanished. They 
 had fallen into a pit covered over with earth laid upon canes, of which 
 the bottom was set with sharp stakes. Others, who were running along 
 the lanes of open ground to right and left, also fell into pits of which 
 there were scores all carefully prepared against the day of battle. 
 With trouble the Chancas were halted, but not before we had lost some 
 hundreds of men. Then we advanced again across that ground over which 
 the Inca host had retreated. 
   
 At length we reached their lines, passing through a storm of arrows, and 
 there began such a battle as I had never heard of or even dreamed. With 
 axes, stone-headed clubs and spears, both armies fought furiously, 
 and though the Incas still outnumbered us by two to one, because of my 
 training our regiments drove them back. Lord after lord rushed at me 
 with glaring eyes, but my mail turned their copper spears and knives 
 of flint. Oh! Wave-Flame fed full that day, and if Thorgrimmer my 
 forefather could have seen us from his home in Valhalla, surely he must 
 have sworn by Odin that never had he given it such a feast. 
   
 The Inca warriors grew afraid and shrank back. 
   
 "This Red-Beard from the sea is indeed a god. He cannot be slain!" I 
 heard them cry. 
   
 Then Urco appeared, bloody and furious, shouting: 
   
 "Cowards! I will show you whether he cannot be slain." 
   
 He rushed onward to meet--not me, but Huaracha, who seeing that I was 
 weary, had leapt in front of me. They fought, and Huaracha went down and 
 was dragged away by some of his servants. 
   
 Now Urco and I were face to face, he wielding a huge copper-headed club 
 with which, as my mail could not be pierced, he thought to batter out 
 my life. I caught the blow upon my shield, but so great was the giant's 
 strength that it brought me to my knees. Next second I was up and at 
 him. Shouting, I smote with both hands, for my shield had fallen. The 
 thick, turban-like headdress that Urco wore was severed, cut through as 
 the axe had been, and Wave-Flame bit deep into the skull beneath. 
   
 Urco fell like a stunned ox and I sprang upon him to make an end. Then 
 it was that a rope was flung about my shoulders, a noosed rope that was 
 hauled tight. In vain I struggled. I was thrown down; I was seized by a 
 score of hands and dragged away into the heart of Urco's host. 
   
 Waiting till a litter could be brought, they set me on my feet again, my 
 arms still bound by the noose that these Indians call _laso_, which they 
 know so well how to throw, the red sword Wave-Flame still hanging by its 
 thong from my right wrist. Whilst I stood thus, like a bull in a net, 
 they gathered round, staring at me, not with hate as it seemed to me, 
 but in fear and with reverence. When at length the litter came they 
 aided me to enter it quite gently. 
   
 As I did so I looked back. The battle still raged but it seemed to me 
 with less fury than before. It was as though both sides were weary of 
 slaughter, their leaders being fallen. The litter was borne forward, 
 till at length the noise of shouting and tumult grew low. Twisting 
 myself round I peered through the back curtains and saw that the Inca 
 host and that of the Chancas were separating sullenly, neither of them 
 broken since they carried their wounded away with them. It was plain 
 that the battle remained drawn for there was no rout and no triumph. 
   
 I saw, too, that I was entering the great city of Cuzco, where women 
 and children stood at the doors of the houses gazing, and some of them 
 wringing their hands with tears upon their faces. 
   
 Passing down long streets and across a bridge, I came to a vast square 
 round which stood mighty buildings, low, massive, and constructed of 
 huge stones. At the door of one of these the litter halted and I was 
 helped to descend. Men beautifully clad in broidered linen led me 
 through a gateway and across a garden where I noted a marvellous thing, 
 namely: that all the plants therein were fashioned of solid gold with 
 silver flowers, or sometimes of silver with golden flowers. Also there 
 were trees on which were perched birds of gold and silver. When I saw 
 this I thought that I must be mad, but it was not so, for having no 
 other use for the precious metals, of which they had so much abundance, 
 thus did these Incas adorn their palaces. 
   
 Leaving the golden garden, I reached a courtyard surrounded by rooms, 
 to one of which I was conducted. Passing its door, I found myself in a 
 splendid chamber hung with tapestries fantastically wrought and having 
 cushioned seats, and tables of rich woods incrusted with precious 
 stones. Here servants or slaves appeared with a chamberlain who bowed 
 deeply and welcomed me in the name of the Inca. 
   
 Then, as though I were something half divine, gently enough, they loosed 
 the sword from my wrist, took the long bow from my back, with the few 
 arrows that remained, also my dagger, and hid them away. They unbound 
 me, and freeing me from my armour, as I told them how, and the garments 
 beneath, laved me with warm, scented water, rubbed my bruised limbs, and 
 clothed me in wonderful soft garments, also scented and fastened about 
 my middle with a golden belt. This done, food and spiced drinks of their 
 native wine were brought to me in golden vessels. I ate and drank and, 
 being very weary, laid myself down upon one of the couches to sleep. 
 For now I no longer took any thought as to what might befall me, but 
 received all as it came, good and ill together, entrusting my body and 
 soul to the care of God and St. Hubert. Indeed, what else could I do who 
 was disarmed and a prisoner? 
   
 When I awoke again, very stiff and bruised, but much refreshed, night 
 had fallen, for hanging lamps were lit about the room. By their light 
 I saw the chamberlain of whom I have spoken standing before me. I asked 
 him his errand. With many bows he said that if I were rested the Inca 
 Upanqui desired my presence that he might speak with me. 
   
 I bade him lead on, and, with others who waited without, he conducted 
 me through a maze of passages into a glorious chamber where everything 
 seemed to be gold, for even the walls were panelled with it. Never had 
 I dreamt of so much gold; indeed the sight of it wearied me till I could 
 have welcomed that of humble brick or wood. At the end of this chamber 
 that was also lit with lamps, were curtains. Presently these were drawn 
 by two beautiful women in jewelled skirts and head-dresses, and behind 
 them on a dais I saw a couch and on the couch the old Inca Upanqui 
 looking feebler than when I had last beheld him in the Chanca city, 
 and very simply clad in a white tunic. Only on his head he wore the red 
 fringe from which I suppose he never parted day or night. He looked up 
 and said: 
   
 "Greeting, White-Lord-from-the-Sea. So you have come to visit me after 
 all, though you said that you would not." 
   
 "I have been brought to visit you, Inca," I answered. 
   
 "Yes, yes, they tell me they captured you in the battle, though I expect 
 that was by your own will as you had wearied of those Chancas. For what 
 _laso_ can hold a god?" 
   
 "None," I answered boldly. 
   
 "Of course not, and that you are a kind of god there is no doubt because 
 of the things you did in that battle. They say that the arrows and 
 spears melted when they touched you and that you shot and cut down men 
 by scores. Also that when the prince Urco tried to kill you, although 
 he is the strongest man in my kingdom, you knocked him over as though 
 he had been a little child and hacked his head open so that they do not 
 know whether he will live or die. I think I hope he will die, for you 
 see I have quarrelled with him." 
   
 I thought to myself that so did I, but I only asked: 
   
 "How did the battle end, Inca?" 
   
 "As it began, Lord Hurachi. A great many men have been killed on 
 both sides, thousands and thousands of them, and neither army has the 
 victory. They have drawn back and sit growling at each other like two 
 angry lions which are afraid to fight again. Indeed, I do not want them 
 to fight, and now that Urco cannot interfere, I shall put a stop to all 
 this bloodshed if I am able. Tell me, for you were with him, why does 
 this Huaracha, who I hear is also wounded, want to make war on me with 
 those troublesome Chancas of his?" 
   
 "Because your son, the prince Urco, has poisoned, or tried to poison, 
 his only child, Quilla." 
   
 "Yes, yes, I know, and it was a wicked thing to do. You see, Lord, what 
 happened was this: That lovely Quilla, who is fairer than her mother the 
 Moon, was to have married Urco. But, Lord, as it chanced on our journey 
 together, although I am old--well, she became enamoured of me, and 
 prayed me to protect her from Urco. Such things happen to women, Lord, 
 whose hearts, when they behold the divine, are apt to carry them away 
 from the vulgar," and he laughed in a silly fashion like the vain old 
 fool that he was. 
   
 "Naturally. How could she help it, Inca? Who, after seeing you, would 
 wish to turn to Urco?" 
   
 "No one, especially as Urco is a coarse and brutal fellow. Well, what 
 was I to do? There are reasons why I do not wish to marry again at my 
 age; indeed I am tired of the sight of women, who want time to pray and 
 think of holy things; also if I had done what she wished, some might 
 have thought that I had behaved badly to Urco. At the same time, a 
 woman's heart is sacred and I could not do violence to that of one so 
 sweet and understanding and lovely. So I put her into the House of the 
 Virgins of the Sun where she will be quite safe." 
   
 "It seems that she was not safe, Inca." 
   
 "No, because that violent man, Urco, being disappointed and very 
 jealous, through some low creature of his, who waited on the Virgins, 
 tried to poison her with a drug which would have made her all swollen 
 and hideous and covered her face with blotches, also perhaps have sent 
 her mad. Luckily one of the matrons, whom we call _Mama-conas_, knocked 
 the cup away before she drank, but some of the horrible poison went into 
 her eyes and blinded her." 
   
 "So she lives, Inca." 
   
 "Certainly she lives. I have learnt that for myself, because in this 
 country it is not wise to trust what they tell you. You know as Inca I 
 have privileges, and although even I do not talk to them, I caused those 
 Virgins of the Sun to be led in front of me, which in strictness even 
 I ought not to have done. It was a dreary business, Lord Hurachi, for 
 though those Virgins may be so holy, some of them are very old and 
 hideous and of course Quilla as a novice came last in the line conducted 
 by two _Mama-conas_ who are cousins of my own. The odd thing is that the 
 poison seems to have made her much more beautiful than before, for her 
 eyes have grown bigger and are glorious, shining like stars seen when 
 there is frost. Well, there she is safe from Urco and every other man, 
 however wicked and impious. But what does this Huaracha want?" 
   
 "He wants his blinded daughter back, Inca." 
   
 "Impossible, impossible! Who ever heard of such a thing! Why, Heaven and 
 Earth would come together and the Sun, my father, and her husband, 
 would burn us all up. Still, perhaps, we could come to an agreement for 
 Huaracha must have had enough fighting and very likely he will die. 
 Now I am tired of talking about the lady Quilla and I want to ask you 
 something." 
   
 "Speak on, Inca." 
   
 Suddenly the old dotard's manner changed: he became quick and shrewd, as 
 doubtless he was in his prime, for this Upanqui had been a great king. 
 At the beginning of our talk the two women of whom I have spoken and the 
 chamberlain had withdrawn to the end of the chamber where they waited 
 with their hands folded, like those who adore before an altar. Still he 
 peered about him to make sure that none were within hearing, and in the 
 end beckoned to me to ascend the dais and sit upon the couch beside him, 
 saying: 
   
 "You see I trust you although you are a god from the sea who has been 
 fighting against me. Now hearken. You had a servant with you, a very 
 strange man, who is said also to have come out of the sea, though that I 
 cannot believe since he is like one of our princes. Where is that man?" 
   
 "With the army of Huaracha, Inca." 
   
 "So I have heard. I heard also that in the battle he hoisted a banner 
 with the sun blazoned on it, and that thereon certain regiments of mine 
 deserted to Huaracha. Now, why did they do that?" 
   
 "I understand, O Inca, that the kings of this land have many children. 
 Perhaps he might be one of them." 
   
 "Ah! You are clever as a god should be. Well, I am a god also and the 
 same thought has come to me, although as a fact I have only had two 
 legitimate sons and the others are of no account. The eldest of these 
 was an able and beautiful prince named Kari, but we quarrelled, and to 
 tell the truth there was a woman in the matter, or rather two women, for 
 Kari's mother fought with Urco's mother whom I loved, because she never 
 scolded me, which the other did. So Urco was named to be Inca after me. 
 Yet that was not enough for him who remained jealous of his brother Kari 
 who outpassed him in all things save strength of body. They wooed the 
 same beautiful woman and Kari won her, whereon Urco seduced her from 
 him, and afterwards he or someone killed her. At least she died, I 
 forget how. Then the lords of the Inca blood began to turn towards Kari 
 because he was royal and wise, which would have meant civil war when I 
 had been gathered to the Sun. Therefore Urco poisoned him, or so it was 
 rumoured; at any rate, he vanished away, and often since then I have 
 mourned him." 
   
 "The dead come to life again sometimes, Inca." 
   
 "Yes, yes, Lord-from-the-Sea, that happens; the gods who took them away 
 bring them back--and this servant of yours--they say he is so like 
 to Kari that he might be the same man grown older. And--why did those 
 regiments, all of them officered by men who used to love Kari, go over 
 to Huaracha to-day, and why do rumours run through the land like the 
 wind that springs up suddenly in fine weather? Tell me of this servant 
 of yours and how you found him in the sea." 
   
 "Why should I tell you, Inca? Is it because you want to kill him who is 
 so like to this lost Kari of yours?" 
   
 "No, no--gods can keep each other's counsel, can they not? It is because 
 I would give--oh! half my godship to know that he is alive. Hark you, 
 Urco wearies me so much that sometimes I wonder whether he really is my 
 son. Who can tell? There was a certain lord of the coastlands, a hairy 
 giant who, they said, could eat half a sheep at a sitting and break the 
 backs of men in his hands, of whom Urco's mother used to think much. 
 But who can tell? No one except my father, the Sun, and he guards his 
 secrets--for the present. At least Urco wearies me with his coarse 
 crimes and his drunkenness, though the army loves him because he is a 
 butcher and liberal. We quarrelled the other day over the small matter 
 of this lady Quilla, and he threatened me till I grew wrath and said 
 that I would not hand him my crown as I had purposed to do. Yes, I 
 grew wrath and hated him for whose sake I had sinned because his mother 
 bewitched me. Lord-from-the-Sea," here his voice dropped to a whisper, 
 "I am afraid of Urco. Even a god such as I am can be murdered, 
 Lord-from-the-Sea. That is why I will not go to Yucay, for there I might 
 die and none know it, whereas here I still am Inca and a god whom it is 
 sacrilege to touch." 
   
 "I understand, but how can I help you, Inca, who am but a prisoner in 
 your palace?" 
   
 "No, no, you are only a prisoner in name. At the worst Urco will be 
 sick for a long while, since the physicians say that sword of yours has 
 bitten deep, and during that time all power is mine. Messengers are 
 at your service; you are free to come and go as you will. Bring this 
 servant of yours to my presence, for doubtless he trusts you. I would 
 speak with him, O Lord-from-the-Sea." 
   
 "If I should do this, Inca, will the lady Quilla be given back to her 
 father?" 
   
 "Nay, it would be sacrilege. Ask what else you will, lands and rule and 
 palaces and wives--not that. Myself I should not dare to lay a finger 
 on her who rests in the arms of the Sun. What does it matter about this 
 Quilla who is but one fair woman among thousands?" 
   
 I thought awhile, then answered, "I think it matters much, Inca. Still, 
 that this bloodshed may be stayed, I will do my best to bring him who 
 was my servant to your presence if you can find me the means to come at 
 him, and afterwards we will talk again." 
   
 "Yes, I am weary now. Afterwards we will talk again. Farewell, 
 Lord-from-the-Sea." 
   
   
   
 CHAPTER IX 
   
 KARI COMES TO HIS OWN 
   
 When I awoke on the following morning in the splendid chamber of which I 
 have spoken, it was to find that my armour and arms had been restored to 
 me, and very glad was I to see Wave-Flame again. After I had eaten and, 
 escorted by servants, walked in the gardens, for never could I be left 
 alone, marvelling at the wondrous golden fruits and flowers, a messenger 
 came to me, saying that the _Villaorna_ desired speech with me. I 
 wondered who this _Villaorna_ might be, but when he entered I saw that 
 he was Larico, that same stern-faced, cunning-eyed lord who had been the 
 spokesman of the Inca when he visited the city of the Chancas. Also I 
 learned that _Villaorna_ was his title and meant "Chief priest." 
   
 We bowed to each other and all were sent from the chamber, leaving us 
 quite alone. 
   
 "Lord-from-the-Sea," he said, "the Inca sends me, his Councillor and 
 blood relative, who am head priest of the Sun, to desire that you will 
 go on an embassy for him to the camp of the Chancas. First, however, it 
 is needful that you should swear by the Sun that you will return thence 
 to Cuzco. Will you do this?" 
   
 Now as there was nothing I desired more than to return to Cuzco where 
 Quilla was, I answered that I would swear by my own god, by the Sun, and 
 by my sword, unless the Chancas detained me by force. Further, I prayed 
 him to set out his business. 
   
 He did so in these words: 
   
 "Lord, we have come to know, it matters not how, that the man who 
 appeared with you in this land is no other than Kari, the elder son of 
 the Inca, whom we thought dead. Now it is in the Inca's mind, and in the 
 minds of us, his councillors, to proclaim the Prince Kari as heir to 
 the throne which soon he would be called upon to fill. But the matter is 
 very dangerous, seeing that Urco still commands the army and many of 
 the great lords who are of his mother's House cling to him, hoping to 
 receive advancement from him when he becomes Inca." 
   
 "But, Priest Larico, Urco, they say, is like to die, and if so all this 
 trouble will melt like a cloud." 
   
 "Your sword bit deep, Lord, but I have it from his physicians that as 
 the brain is uncut he will not die, although he will be sick for a long 
 while. Therefore we must act while he is sick, since it is not lawful 
 to bring about his end, even if he could be come at. Time presses, Lord, 
 for as you have seen, the Inca is old and feeble and his mind is weak. 
 Indeed at times he has no mind, though at others his strength returns to 
 him." 
   
 "Which means that I deal with you who are the chief priest, and those 
 behind you," I said, looking him in the eyes. 
   
 "That is what it means, Lord. Now hearken while I tell you the truth. 
 After the Inca I am the most powerful man in Tavantinsuyu, indeed for 
 the most part the Inca speaks with my voice although I seem to speak 
 with his. Yet I am in a snare. Heretofore I have supported Urco because 
 there was no other who could become Inca, although he is a brutal and 
 an evil man. Of late, however, since my return from the City of the 
 Chancas, I have quarrelled with Urco because he has lost that witch, the 
 lady Quilla, whom he desires madly and lays the blame on me, and it 
 has come to my knowledge that when he succeeds to the throne it is his 
 purpose to kill me, which doubtless he will do if he can, or at the 
 least to cast me from my place and power, which is as bad as death. 
 Therefore, I desire to make my peace with Kari, if he will swear to 
 continue me in my office, and this I can only do through you. Bring this 
 peace about, Lord, and I will promise you anything you may wish, even 
 perchance to the Incaship itself, should aught happen to Kari or should 
 he refuse my offers. I think that the Quichuas might welcome a white god 
 from the Sea who has shown himself so great a general and so brave in 
 battle, and who has knowledge and wisdom more than theirs, to rule over 
 them," he added reflectively. "Only then, Lord, it would be needful to 
 be rid of Kari as well as of Urco." 
   
 "To which I would never consent," I replied, "seeing that he is my 
 friend with whom I have shared many dangers. Moreover, I do not wish to 
 be Inca." 
   
 "Is there then anything else that you wish very much, Lord? A thought 
 came to me, yonder at the City of the Chancas. By the way, how lovely 
 is that lady Quilla and how royal a woman. It is most strange that she 
 should have turned her mind towards an aged man like Upanqui." 
   
 We looked at each other. 
   
 "Very strange," I said. "It seems to me sad also that this beauteous 
 Quilla should be immured in a nunnery for life. To tell you the truth, 
 High-priest, since it is not good for man to live alone, rather than 
 that such a thing should have happened I would have married her myself, 
 to which perchance she might have consented." 
   
 Again we looked at each other and I went on: 
   
 "I hinted as much to Kari after we heard she was numbered amongst the 
 Virgins, and asked him whether, should he become Inca, he would take her 
 thence and give her to me." 
   
 "What did he answer, Lord?" 
   
 "He said that though he loved me like a brother, first he would kill me 
 with his own hand, since such a deed would be sacrilege against the Sun. 
 Last night also the Inca himself said much the same." 
   
 "Is it so, Lord? Well, we priests bring up our Incas to think thus. If 
 we did not, where would our power be, seeing that we are the Voice of 
 the Sun upon earth and issue his decrees?" 
   
 "But do you always think thus yourselves, O High-priest?" 
   
 "Not quite always. There are loopholes in every law of gods and men. For 
 example, I believe I see one in the instance of this lady Quilla. But 
 before we waste more time in talking--tell me, White Lord, do you desire 
 her, and if so, are you ready to pay me my price? It is that you shall 
 assure to me the friendship of the prince Kari, should he become Inca, 
 and the continuance of my power and office." 
   
 "My answer is that I do desire this lady, O High-priest, and that if I 
 can I will obtain from Kari the promise of what you seek. And now where 
 is the loophole?" 
   
 "I seem to remember, Lord, that there is an ancient law which says--that 
 none who are maimed may be the wives of the Sun. It is true that this 
 law applies to them _before_ they contract the holy marriage. Still, if 
 the point came up before me as high-priest, I might perhaps find that 
 it applied also to those who were maimed _after_ marriage. The case is 
 rare, for which precedents cannot be found if the search be thorough. 
 Now through the wickedness of Urco, as it happens, this lady Quilla has 
 been blinded, and therefore is no longer perfect in her body. Do you 
 understand?" 
   
 "Quite. But what would Upanqui or Kari say? The Incas you declare are 
 always bigots and might interpret this law otherwise." 
   
 "I cannot tell, Lord, but let us cease from beating bushes. I will help 
 you if I can, if you will help me if _you_ can, though I daresay that in 
 the end you, who are not a bigot, must take the law into your own hands, 
 as perhaps the lady Quilla, who is a moon-worshipper, would be willing 
 to do also." 
   
 The finish of it was that this cunning priest and statesman and I made a 
 bargain. If I could win Kari over to his interests, then he swore by the 
 Sun that he would gain me access to the lady Quilla and help me to fly 
 with her, if so we both wished, while I on my part swore to plead his 
 cause with Kari. Moreover, as he showed me, there was little fear that 
 either of us would break these oaths since henceforth each lay in the 
 power of the other. 
   
 After this we passed on to public matters. I was charged to offer an 
 honourable truce to Huaracha and the Chancas with permission to them to 
 camp their armies in certain valleys near to Cuzco where they would 
 be fed until peace was declared, which peace would give them all they 
 needed, namely, their freedom and safeguards from attack. For the rest 
 I was to bring Kari and those who had deserted to him on the yesterday 
 into Cuzco where none would molest them. 
   
 Then he went, leaving me happier than I had been since I bade farewell 
 to Quilla. For now at last I saw light, a faint uncertain light, it was 
 true, only to be reached, if reached at all, through many difficulties 
 and dangers, but still light. At last I had found someone in this 
 land of black superstition who was not a bigot, and who, being the 
 High-priest of the Sun, knew too much of his god to fear him or to 
 believe that he should come down to earth and burn it up should one of 
 the hundreds of his brides seek another husband. Of course this Larico 
 might betray me and Quilla, but I did not think he would, since he had 
 nothing to gain thereby, and might have much to lose, for the reason 
 that I was able, or he thought that I was able, to set Kari against him. 
 At least I could only go forward and trust to fortune, though in fact 
 hitherto she had never shown me favour where woman was concerned. 
   
   
   
 Awhile later I was being borne in one of the Inca's own litters back to 
 the camp of the Chancas, accompanied by an embassy of great lords. 
   
 We passed over that dreadful, bloodstained plain where, under a flag of 
 truce, both sides were engaged in burying the thousands of their dead, 
 and came to the ridge whence we had charged on the yester morn. Here 
 sentries stopped us and I descended from my litter. When the Chancas saw 
 me in my armour come back to them alive, they set up a great shouting 
 and presently I and the lords with me were led to the pavilion of King 
 Huaracha. 
   
 We found him lying sick upon a couch, for though he showed no wound he 
 had been badly bruised upon the body by a blow from Urco's club and, as 
 I feared, was hurt in the bowels. He greeted me with delight, since he 
 thought that I might have been killed after I was captured, and asked 
 how I came to appear in his camp in the company of our enemies. I told 
 him at once what had chanced and that I was sworn to return to Cuzco 
 when I had done my business. Then the Inca's ambassadors set out their 
 proposals for a truce, and retired, while Huaracha discussed them with 
 his generals and Kari, who also was overjoyed to see me safe. 
   
 The end of it was that they were accepted on the terms offered, namely, 
 that Huaracha and his army should withdraw to the valleys of which I 
 have spoken, and there camp, receiving all the food they needed until 
 a peace could be offered such as he would be willing to accept. Indeed, 
 the Chancas were glad to agree to this plan for their losses in the 
 battle had been very great and they were in no state to renew the attack 
 upon Cuzco, which was still defended by such mighty hordes of brave 
 warriors fighting for their homes, families, and freedom. 
   
 So all was agreed on the promise that peace should be made within thirty 
 days or sooner, and that if it were not the war should re-commence. 
   
 Then privately, I told Huaracha all that I had learned about Quilla and 
 that I had still hopes of saving her though what these were I did not 
 tell him. When he had thought, he said that now the fate of Quilla must 
 be left in the hands of the gods and mine, since not even for her could 
 he neglect the opportunity of an honourable peace, seeing that another 
 battle might mean destruction. Also he pointed out that he was hurt and 
 I who had been general under him was a prisoner and bound by my oath to 
 return to prison, so that the Chancas had lost their leaders. 
   
 After this we parted, I promising to work for his cause and to come to 
 see him again, if I might. 
   
 These matters finished I went aside with Kari to a place where none 
 could hear us, and there laid before him the offers of Larico, the 
 high-priest, showing him how the case stood. Of Quilla, however, I said 
 nothing to him, though it pained me to keep back part of the truth even 
 from Kari. Yet, what was I to do, who knew that if I told him all and he 
 became Inca, or the Inca's acknowledged heir, he would work against me 
 because of his superstitious madness, and perhaps cause Quilla to 
 be killed by the priests, as one whose feet were set in the path of 
 sacrilege? So on this matter I held my peace, nor did he ask me anything 
 concerning Quilla who, I think, wished to hear nothing of that lady and 
 what had befallen her. 
   
 When he had learned all, he said: 
   
 "This may be a trap, Lord. I do not trust yonder Larico, who has always 
 been my enemy and Urco's friend." 
   
 "I think he is his own friend first," I answered, "who knows that if 
 Urco recovers he will kill him, because he has taken the part of your 
 father, Upanqui, in their quarrels, and suspects him." 
   
 "I am not sure," said Kari. "Yet something must be risked. Did I not 
 tell you when we were sailing down the English river that we must put 
 faith in our gods, yes, afterwards also, and more than once? And did not 
 the gods save us? Well, now again I trust to my god," and drawing out 
 the image of Pachacamac, which he wore round his neck, he kissed it, 
 then turning, bowed and prayed to the Sun. 
   
 "I will come with you," he said, when he had finished his devotions, "to 
 live to be Inca, or to die, as the Sun decrees." 
   
 So he came and with him some of his friends, captains of those who had 
 deserted to him in the battle. But the five thousand soldiers, or those 
 who were left of them, did not come as yet because they feared lest they 
 should be set upon and butchered by the regiments of Urco. 
   
   
   
 That night, when we were back safe in Cuzco, Kari and the high-priest, 
 Larico talked together in secret. Of what passed between them he only 
 told me that they had come to an agreement which satisfied them both. 
 Larico said the same to me when next I saw him, adding: 
   
 "You have kept your word and served my turn, Lord-from-the-Sea, 
 therefore I will keep mine and serve yours when the time comes. Yet be 
 warned by me and say nothing of a certain lady to the prince Kari, since 
 when I spoke a word to him on the matter, hinting that her surrender to 
 her father Huaracha would make peace with him more easy and lasting, he 
 answered that first would he fight Huaracha, and the Yuncas as well, to 
 the last man in Cuzco. 
   
 "To the Sun she has gone," he said, "and with the Sun she must stay, 
 lest the curse of the Sun and of Pachacamac, the Spirit above the sun, 
 should fall on me and all of us." 
   
 Larico told me also that, fearing something, the great lords, who were 
 of Urco's party, had borne him away in a litter to a strong city in the 
 mountains about five leagues from Cuzco, escorted by thousands of picked 
 men who would stay in and about that city. 
   
 On the next morning I was summoned to wait upon the Inca Upanqui, 
 and went, wearing my armour. I found him in the same great chamber as 
 before, only now he was more royally arrayed, and with him were sundry 
 of his high lords of the Inca blood, also certain priests, among them 
 the _Villaorna_ Larico. 
   
 The old king, who on that day seemed clear in his mind and well, greeted 
 me in his kindly fashion and bade me set out all that had passed between 
 me and Huaracha in the Chanca camp. This I did, only I hid from him how 
 great had been the Chanca losses in the battle and how glad they were to 
 declare a truce and rest. 
   
 Upanqui said that the matter should be attended to, speaking in a royal 
 fashion as though it were one of little moment, which showed me how 
 great an emperor he must be. Great he was, indeed, seeing that all 
 the broad land of England would have made but one province of his vast 
 dominions, which in every part were filled with people who, unless they 
 chanced to be in rebellion like the Yuncas, lived but to do his will. 
   
 After this, when I thought the audience was ended, a chamberlain 
 advanced to the foot of the throne, and kneeling, said that a suppliant 
 prayed speech with the Inca. Upanqui waved his sceptre, that long 
 staff which I have described, in token that he should be admitted. Then 
 presently up the chamber came Kari arrayed in the tunic and cloak of an 
 Inca prince, wearing in his ear a disc carved with the image of the Sun, 
 and a chain of emeralds and gold about his neck. Nor did he come alone, 
 for he was attended by a brilliant band of those lords and captains 
 who had deserted to him on the day of the great battle. He advanced and 
 knelt before the throne. 
   
 "Who is this that carries the emblems of the Holy Blood and is clothed 
 like a Prince of the Sun?" asked Upanqui, affecting ignorance and 
 unconcern, though I saw the colour mount to his cheeks and the sceptre 
 shake in his withered hand. 
   
 "One who is indeed of the holy Inca blood; one sprung from the purest 
 lineage of the Sun," answered the stately Kari in his quiet voice. 
   
 "How then is he named?" asked the Inca again. 
   
 "He is named Kari, first-born son of Upanqui, O Inca." 
   
 "Such a son I had once, but he is long dead, or so they told me," said 
 Upanqui in a trembling voice. 
   
 "He is not dead, O Inca. He lives and he kneels before you. Urco 
 poisoned him, but the Sun his Father recovered him, and the Spirit that 
 is above all gods supported him. The sea bore him to a far land, where 
 he found a white god who befriended and cared for him," here he turned 
 his head towards me. "With this god he returned to his own country and 
 here he kneels before you, O Inca." 
   
 "It cannot be," said the Inca. "What sign do you bring who name yourself 
 Kari? Show me the image of the Spirit above the gods that from his 
 childhood for generations has been hung about the neck of the Inca's 
 eldest son, born from the Queen." 
   
 Kari opened his robe and drew out that golden effigy of Pachacamac which 
 he always wore. 
   
 Upanqui examined it, holding it close to his rheumy eyes. 
   
 "It seems to be the same," he said, "as I should know upon whose breast 
 it lay until my first son was born. And yet who can be sure since such 
 things may be copied?" 
   
 Then he handed back the image to Kari and after reflecting awhile, said: 
   
 "Bring hither the Mother of the Royal Nurses." 
   
 Apparently this lady was in waiting, for in a minute she appeared before 
 the throne, an old and withered woman with beady eyes. 
   
 "Mother," said the Inca, "you were with the _Coya_ (that is the Queen) 
 who has been gathered to the Sun, when her boy was born, and afterwards 
 nursed him for years. If you saw it, would you know his body again after 
 he has come to middle age?" 
   
 "Aye, O Inca." 
   
 "How, Mother?" 
   
 "By three moles, O Inca, which we women used to call _Yuti_, _Quilla_, 
 and _Chasca_" (that is, the Sun, the Moon, and the planet Venus), "which 
 were the marks of good fortune stamped by the gods upon the Prince's 
 back between the shoulders, set one above the other." 
   
 "Man who call yourself Kari, are you willing that this old crone should 
 see your flesh?" asked Upanqui. 
   
 By way of answer Kari with a little smile stripped himself of his 
 broidered tunic and other garments and stood before us naked to the 
 middle. Then he turned his back to the Mother of the Nurses. She hobbled 
 up and searched it with her bright eyes. 
   
 "Many scars," she muttered, "scars in front and scars behind. This 
 warrior has known battles and blows. But what have we here? Look, O 
 Inca, _Yuti_, _Quilla_, and _Chasca_, set one above the other, though 
 _Chasca_ is almost hidden by a hurt. Oh! my fosterling, O my Prince whom 
 I nursed at these withered breasts, are you come back from the dead to 
 take your own again? O Kari of the Holy Blood; Kari the lost who is Kari 
 the found!" 
   
 Then sobbing and muttering she threw her arms about him and kissed him. 
 Nor did he shame to kiss her in return, there before them all. 
   
 "Restore his garments to the royal Prince," said Upanqui, "and bring 
 hither the Fringe that is worn by the Inca's heir." 
   
 It was produced without delay by the high-priest Larico, which told 
 me at once that all this scene had been prepared. Upanqui took it from 
 Larico, and beckoning Kari to him, with the priest's help bound it about 
 his brow, thereby acknowledging him and restoring him as heir-apparent 
 to the Empire. Then he kissed him on the brow and Kari knelt down and 
 did his father homage. 
   
 After this they went away together accompanied only by Larico and two 
 or three of the councillors of Inca blood and as I learned from Larico 
 afterwards, told each other their tales and made plans to outwit, and if 
 need were to destroy, Urco and his faction. 
   
 On the following day Kari was established in a house of his own that was 
 more of a fortress than a palace, for it was built of great stones with 
 narrow gates, and surrounded by an open space. Upon this space, as a 
 guard, were encamped all those who had deserted to him in the battle of 
 the Field of Blood, who had returned to Cuzco from the camp of Huaracha 
 now that Kari was accepted as the royal heir. Also other troops who were 
 loyal to the Inca were stationed near by, while those who clung to Urco 
 departed secretly to that town where he lay sick. Moreover, proclamation 
 was made that on the day of the new moon, which the magicians declared 
 to be auspicious, Kari would be publicly presented to the people in 
 the Temple of the Sun as the Inca's lawful heir, in place of Urco 
 disinherited for crimes that he had committed against the Sun, the 
 Empire, and the Inca his father. 
   
 "Brother," said Kari to me, for so he called me now that he was an 
 acknowledged Prince, when I went to meet him in his grandeur, "Brother, 
 did I not tell you always that we must trust to our gods? See, I have 
 not trusted in vain though it is true that dangers still lie ahead of 
 me, and perhaps civil war." 
   
 "Yes," I answered, "your gods are in the way of giving you all you want, 
 but it is not so with mine and me." 
   
 "What then do you desire, Brother, who can have even to the half of the 
 kingdom?" 
   
 "Kari," I replied, "I cry not for the Earth, but for the Moon." 
   
 He understood, and his face grew stern. 
   
 "Brother, the Moon alone is beyond you, for she inhabits the sky while 
 you still dwell upon the earth," he answered with a frown, and then 
 began to talk of the peace with Huaracha. 
   
   
   
 
   
 
 
 Part: 4 
 
   
 THE GREAT HORROR 
   
 The day of the new moon came and with it the great horror that caused 
 all the Empire of Tavantinsuyu to tremble, fearing lest Heaven should be 
 avenged upon it. 
   
 Since Upanqui had found his elder son again he began to dote upon him, 
 as in such a case the old and weak-minded often do, and would walk about 
 the gardens and palaces with his arm around his neck babbling to him 
 of whatever was uppermost in his mind. Moreover, his soul was oppressed 
 because he had done Kari wrong in the past, and preferred Urco to him 
 under the urging of that prince's mother. 
   
 "The truth is, Son," I myself heard him say to Kari, "that we men who 
 seem to rule the world do not rule it at all, because always women rule 
 us. This they do through our passions which the gods planted in us for 
 their own ends, also because they are more single in their minds. The 
 man thinks of many things, the woman only thinks of what she desires. 
 Therefore the man whom Nature already has bemused, only brings a little 
 piece of his mind to fight against her whole mind, and so is conquered; 
 he who was made for one thing only, to be the mate of the woman that she 
 may mother more men in order to serve the wills of other women who yet 
 seem to be those men's slaves." 
   
 "So I have learned, Father," answered the grave Kari, "and for this 
 reason having suffered in the past, I am determined to have as little to 
 do with women as is possible for one in my place. During my travels in 
 other lands, as in this country, I have seen men great and noble brought 
 to nothingness and ruin by their love for women; down into the dirt, 
 indeed, when their hands were full of the world's wealth and glory. 
 Moreover, I have noticed that they seldom learn wisdom, and that what 
 they have done before, they are ready to do again, who believe anything 
 that soft lips swear to them. Yes, even that they are loved for 
 themselves alone, as I own to my sorrow, once I did myself. Urco could 
 not have taken that fair wife of mine, Father, if she had not been 
 willing to go when she saw that I had lost your favour and with it the 
 hope of the Scarlet Fringe." 
   
 Here Kari looked at me, of whom I knew he was thinking all this time, 
 and seeing that I could overhear his talk, began to speak of something 
 else. 
   
   
   
 On the appointed day there was a great gathering of the nobles of 
 the land, especially of those of the Inca blood, and of all that were 
 "earmen," a class of the same rank as our peers in England, to hear 
 the proclamation of Kari as the Inca's heir. It was made before this 
 gorgeous company in the Great Temple of the Sun, which now I saw for the 
 first time. 
   
 It was a huge and most wondrous place well named the "House of Gold." 
 For here everything was gold. On the western wall hung an image of the 
 Sun twenty feet or more across, an enormous graven plate of gold set 
 about with gems and having eyes and teeth of great emeralds. The roof, 
 too, and the walls were all panelled with gold, even the cornices and 
 column heads were of solid gold. 
   
 Opening out of this temple also were others dedicated to the Moon and 
 Stars, that of the Moon being clothed in silver, with her radiant face 
 shaped in silver fixed to the western wall. So it was with the temple of 
 the Stars, of the Lightnings and of the Rainbow, which perhaps with its 
 many colours that sprang from jewels, was the most dazzling of them all. 
   
 The sight of so much glory overwhelmed me, and it came into my mind that 
 if only it were known of in Europe, men would die by the ten thousand 
 on the chance that they might conquer this country and make its wealth 
 theirs. Yet here, save for these purposes of ornament and to be used as 
 offerings to the gods and Incas, it was of no account at all. 
   
 But in this temple of the Sun was a marvel greater than its gold. For on 
 either side of the carved likenesses of the sun, seated upon chairs of 
 gold, sat the dead Incas and their queens. Yes, clothed in their royal 
 robes and emblems, with the Fringe upon their brows, there they sat with 
 their heads bent forward, so wonderfully preserved by the arts these 
 people have, that except for the stamp of death upon their countenances, 
 they might have been sleeping men and women. Thus in the dead face 
 of the mother of Kari I could read her likeness to her son. Of these 
 departed kings and queens there were many, since from the first Inca of 
 whom history told all were gathered here in the holy House and under 
 the guardianship of the effigy of their god, the Sun, from whom they 
 believed themselves to be descended. The sight was so solemn that it 
 awed me, as it did all that congregation, for I noted that here men 
 walked with unsandalled feet and that in speaking none raised their 
 voices high. 
   
 The old Inca, Upanqui, entered, gloriously apparelled and accompanied by 
 lords and priests, while after him came Kari with his retinue of great 
 men. The Inca bowed to the company whereon everyone in the great temple, 
 save myself alone whose British pride kept me on my feet, standing like 
 one left living on a battlefield among a multitude of slain, prostrated 
 himself before his divine majesty. At a sign they rose again and the 
 Inca seated himself upon his jewelled golden throne beneath the effigy 
 of the Sun, while Kari took his place upon a lesser throne to the Inca's 
 right. 
   
 Looking at him there in his splendour on this day when he came into his 
 own again, I bethought me of the wretched, starving Indian marked with 
 blows and foul with filth whom I had rescued from the cruel mob upon the 
 Thames-side wharf, and wondered at this enormous change of fortune and 
 the chain of wonderful events by which it had been brought about. 
   
 My fortune also had changed, for then I was great in my own fashion, who 
 now had become but a wanderer, welcomed indeed in this glittering 
 new world of which yonder we knew nothing, because I was strange and 
 different, also full of unheard-of learning and skilled in war, but 
 still nothing but an outcast wanderer, and so doomed to live and die. 
 And as I thought, so thought Kari, for our glances met, and I read it in 
 his eyes. 
   
 Yonder sat my servant who had become my lord, and though he was still my 
 friend, soon I felt he would be lost in the state matters of that great 
 empire, leaving me more lonely than before. Also his mind was not as 
 my mind, as his blood was not my blood, and he was the slave of a faith 
 that to me was a hateful superstition doubtless begotten by the Devil, 
 who under the name of _Cupay_, some worshipped in that land, though 
 others declared that this _Cupay_ was the God of the Dead. 
   
 Oh! that I could flee away with Quilla and at her side live out what was 
 left to me of life, since of all these multitudes she alone understood 
 and was akin to me, because the sacred fire of love had burned away our 
 differences and opened her eyes. But Quilla was snatched from me by the 
 law of their accursed faith, and whatever else Kari might give, he would 
 never give me this lady of the Moon, since, as he had said, to him this 
 would be sacrilege. 
   
 The ceremonies began. First Larico, the high-priest of the Sun, clothed 
 in his white sacerdotal robes, made sacrifice upon a little altar which 
 stood in front of the Inca's throne. 
   
 It was a very simple sacrifice of fruit and corn and flowers, with what 
 seemed to be strange-shaped pieces of gold. At least I saw nothing else, 
 and am sure that nothing that had life was laid upon that altar after 
 the fashion of the bloody offerings of the Jews, and indeed of those of 
 some of the other peoples of that great land. 
   
 Prayers, however, were spoken, very fine prayers and pure so far as I 
 could understand them, for their language was more ancient and somewhat 
 different to that which was used in common speech; also the priests 
 moved about, bowing and bending the knees much as our own do in 
 celebrating the mass, though whether these motions were in honour of the 
 god or of the Inca, I am not sure. 
   
 When the sacrifice was over, and the little fire that burned upon the 
 altar had sunk low, though I was told that for hundreds of years it had 
 never been extinguished, suddenly the Inca began to speak. With many 
 particulars that I had not heard before he told the tale of Kari and 
 of his estrangement from him in past years through the plottings of the 
 mother of Urco who now was dead, like the mother of Kari. This woman, 
 it would appear, had persuaded him, the Inca, that Kari was conspiring 
 against him, and therefore Urco was ordered to take him prisoner, but 
 returned only with Kari's wife, saying that Kari had killed himself. 
   
 Here Upanqui became overcome with emotion as the aged are apt to do, 
 and beat his breast, even shedding tears because most unjustly he had 
 allowed these things to happen and the wicked triumph over the good, 
 for which sin he said he felt sure his father the Sun would bring some 
 punishment on him, as indeed was to chance sooner than he thought. Then 
 he continued his story, setting out all Urco's iniquities and sacrileges 
 against the gods, also his murders of people of high and low degree and 
 his stealing of their wives and daughters. Lastly he told of the coming 
 of Kari who was supposed to be dead, and all that story which I have set 
 out. 
   
 Having finished his tale, with much solemn ceremonial he deposed Urco 
 from his heirship to the Empire which he gave back to Kari to whom it 
 belonged by right of birth and calling upon his dead forefathers, one by 
 one, to be witness to the act, with great formality once more he bound 
 the Prince's Fringe about his brow. As he did this, he said these words: 
   
 "Soon, O Prince Kari, you must change this yellow circlet for that which 
 I wear, and take with it all the burden of empire, for know that as 
 quickly as may be I purpose to withdraw to my palace at Yucay, there to 
 make my peace with God before I am called hence to dwell in the Mansions 
 of the Sun." 
   
 When he had finished Kari did homage to his father, and in that quiet, 
 even voice of his, told his tale of the wrongs that he had suffered 
 at the hands of Urco his brother and of how he had escaped, living but 
 maddened, from his hate. He told also how he had wandered across the 
 sea, though of England he said nothing, and been saved from misery and 
 death by myself, a very great person in my own country. Still, since I 
 had suffered wrong there, as he, Kari, had in his, he had persuaded me 
 to accompany him back to his own land, that there my wisdom might shine 
 upon its darkness, and owing to my divine and magical gifts hither we 
 had come in safety. Lastly, he asked the assembled priests and lords if 
 they were content to accept him as the Inca to be, and to stand by him 
 in any war that Urco might wage against him. 
   
 To this they answered that they were content and would stand by him. 
   
 Then followed many other rites such as the informing of the dead 
 Incas, one by one, of this solemn declaration, through the mouth of the 
 high-priest, and the offering of many prayers to them and to the Sun 
 their father. So long were these prayers with the chants from choirs 
 hidden in side chapels by which they were interspersed, that the day 
 drew towards its close before all was done. 
   
 Thus it came about that the dusk was gathering when the Inca, followed 
 by Kari, myself, the priests, and all the congregation, left the temple 
 to present Kari as the heir to the throne to the vast crowd which waited 
 upon the open square outside its doors. 
   
 Here the ceremony went on. The Inca and most of us, for there was not 
 space for all, although we were packed as closely together as Hastings 
 herrings in a basket, took our stand upon a platform that was surrounded 
 by a marvellous cable made of links of solid gold which, it was said, 
 needed fifty men to lift it from the ground. Then Upanqui, whose 
 strength seemed restored to him, perhaps because of some drug that he 
 had eaten, or under the spur of this great event, stepped forward to the 
 edge of the low platform and addressed the multitude in eloquent words, 
 setting out the matter as he had done in the temple. He ended his speech 
 by asking the formal question: 
   
 "Do you, Children of the Sun, accept the prince Kari, my first-born, to 
 be Inca after me?" 
   
 There was a roar of assent, and as it died away Upanqui turned to call 
 Kari to him that he might present him to the people. 
   
 At this very moment in the gathering twilight I saw a great fierce-faced 
 man with a bandaged head, whom I knew to be Urco, leap over the golden 
 chain. He sprang upon the platform and with a shout of "I do not accept 
 him, and thus I pay back treachery," plunged a gleaming copper knife or 
 sword into the Inca's breast. 
   
 In an instant, before any could stir in that packed crowd, Urco had 
 leapt back over the golden chain, and from the edge of the platform, to 
 vanish amongst those beneath, who doubtless were men of his following 
 disguised as citizens or peasants. 
   
 Indeed all who beheld seemed frozen with horror. One great sigh went up 
 and then there was silence, since no such deed as this was known in 
 the annals of that empire. For a moment the aged Upanqui stood upon his 
 feet, the blood pouring down his white beard and jewelled robe. Then he 
 turned a little and said in a clear and gentle voice: 
   
 "Kari, you will be Inca sooner than I thought. Receive me, O God my 
 Father, and pardon this murderer who, I think, can be no true son of 
 mine." 
   
 Then he fell forward on his face and when we lifted him he was dead. 
   
 Still the silence hung; it was as though the tongues of men were smitten 
 with dumbness. At length Kari stepped forward and cried: 
   
 "The Inca is dead, but I, the Inca, live on to avenge him. I declare war 
 upon Urco the murderer and all who cling to Urco!" 
   
 Now the spell was lifted, and from those dim hordes there went up a yell 
 of hatred against Urco the butcher and parricide, while men rushed to 
 and fro searching for him. In vain! for he had escaped in the darkness. 
   
 On the following day, with more ceremonies, though many of these were 
 omitted because of the terror and trouble of the times, Kari was crowned 
 Inca, exchanging the yellow for the crimson Fringe and taking the throne 
 name of Upanqui after his father. In Cuzco there was none to say him nay 
 for the whole city was horror-struck because of the sacrilege that had 
 been committed. Also those who clung to Urco had fled away with him to 
 a town named Huarina on the borders of the great lake called Titicaca, 
 where was an island with marvellous temples full of gold, which town lay 
 at a distance from Cuzco. 
   
   
   
 Then the civil war began and raged for three whole months, though of 
 all that happened in that time because of the labour of it, I set down 
 little, who would get forward with my story. 
   
 In this war I played a great part. The fear of Kari was that the 
 Chancas, seeing the Inca realm thus rent in two, would once more attack 
 Cuzco. This it became my business to prevent. As the ambassador of Kari 
 I visited the camp of Huaracha, bearing offers of peace which gave to 
 him more than he could ever hope to win by strength of arms. I found the 
 old warrior-king still sick and wasted because of the hurt from Urco's 
 club, though now he could walk upon crutches, and set out the case. He 
 answered that he had no wish to fight against Kari who had offered him 
 such honourable terms, especially when he was waging war against Urco 
 whom he, Huaracha, hated, because he had striven to poison his daughter 
 and dealt him a blow which he was sure would end in his death. Therefore 
 he was ready to make a firm peace with the new Inca, if in addition to 
 what he offered he would surrender to him Quilla who was his heiress and 
 would be Queen of the Chancas after him. 
   
 With these words I went back to Kari, only to find that on this matter 
 he was hard as a rock of the mountains. In vain did I plead with him, 
 and in vain did the high-priest, Larico, by subtle hints and arguments, 
 strive to gentle his mind. 
   
 "My brother," said Kari in that soft even voice of his, when he had 
 heard me patiently to the end, "forgive me if I tell you that in 
 advancing this prayer, for one word you say on behalf of King Huaracha, 
 you say two for yourself, who having unhappily been bewitched by her, 
 desire this Virgin of the Sun, the lady Quilla, to be your wife. My 
 brother, take everything else that I have to give, but leave this lady 
 alone. If I handed her over to Huaracha or to you, as I have told you 
 before, I should bring upon myself and upon my people the curse of my 
 father the Sun, and of Pachacamac, the Spirit who is above the Sun. It 
 was because Upanqui, my father according to the flesh, dared to look 
 upon her after she had entered the House of the Sun, as I have learned 
 he did, that a bloody and a cruel death came upon him, for so the 
 magicians and the wise men have assured me that the oracles declare. 
 Therefore, rather than do this crime of crimes, I would choose that 
 Huaracha should renew the war against us and that you should join 
 yourself to him, or even to Urco, and strive to tear me from the Throne, 
 for then even if I were slain, I should die with honour." 
   
 "That I could never do," I answered sadly. 
   
 "No, my brother Hubert (for now he called me by my English name again), 
 that you could never do, being what you are, as I know well. So like the 
 rest of us you must bear your burden. Mayhap it may please my gods, or 
 your gods in the end, and in some way that I cannot foresee, to give you 
 this woman whom you seek. But of my free will I will never give her to 
 you. To me the deed would be as though in your land of England the King 
 commanded the consecrated bread and cups of wine to be snatched from the 
 hands of the priests of your temples and cast to the dogs, or given to 
 cheer the infidels within your gates, or dragged away the nuns from your 
 convents to become their lemans. What would you think of such a king 
 in your own country? And what," he added with meaning, "would you have 
 thought of me if there I had stolen one of these nuns because she was 
 beautiful and I desired her as a wife?" 
   
 Now although Kari's words stung me because of the truth that was in 
 them, I answered that to me this matter wore another face. Also that 
 Quilla had become a Virgin of the Sun, not of her own free will, but to 
 escape from Urco. 
   
 "Yes, my brother," he answered, "because you believe my religion to be 
 idolatry, and do not understand that the Sun to me is the symbol and 
 garment of God, and that when we of the Inca blood, or those of us who 
 have the inner knowledge, talk of him as our Father, we mean that we are 
 the children of God, though the common people are taught otherwise. For 
 the rest, this lady took her vows of her own free will and of her secret 
 reasons I know nothing, any more than I know why she offered herself in 
 marriage to Urco before she found you upon the island. For you I grieve, 
 and for her also; yet I would have you remember that, as your own 
 priests teach, in every life that is not brutal there must be loss, 
 sorrow, and sacrifice, since by these steps only man can climb towards 
 the things of the spirit. Pluck then such flowers as you will from the 
 garden that Fate gives you, but leave this one white bloom alone." 
   
 In such words as these he preached at me, till at length I could bear no 
 more, and said roughly: 
   
 "To me it is a very evil thing, O Inca, to separate those who love each 
 other, and one that cannot be pleasing to Heaven. Therefore, great as 
 you are, and friend of mine as you are, I tell you to your face that if 
 I can take the lady Quilla out of that golden grave of hers I shall do 
 so." 
   
 "I know it, my brother," he answered, "and therefore, were I as some 
 Incas have been, I should cause this holy Spouse to travel more quickly 
 to the skies than Nature will take her. But this I will not do because 
 I know also that Destiny is above all things and that which Destiny 
 decrees will happen unhelped by man. Still I tell you that I will thwart 
 you if I can and that should you succeed in your ends, I will kill you 
 if I can and the lady also, because you have committed sacrilege. Yes, 
 although I love you better than any other man, I will kill you. And if 
 King Huaracha should be able to snatch her away by force I will make war 
 on him until either I and my people or he and his people are destroyed. 
 And now let us talk no more of this matter, but rather of our plans 
 against Urco, since in these at least, where no woman is concerned, I 
 know that you will be faithful to me and I sorely need your help." 
   
   
   
 So with a heavy heart I went back to the camp of Huaracha and told him 
 Kari's words. He was very wroth when he heard them, since his gods were 
 different to those of the Incas and he thought nothing of the holiness 
 of the Virgins of the Sun, and once again talked of renewing the war. 
 Still it came to nothing for sundry reasons of which the greatest was 
 that his sickness increased on him as the days went by. Also I told him 
 that much as I desired Quilla, I could not fight upon his side since 
 I was sworn to aid Kari against Urco and my word might not be broken. 
 Moreover, the Yuncas who had been our allies, wearying of their long 
 absence from home and satisfied with the gentle forgiveness and the 
 redress of their grievances which the new Inca had promised them, were 
 gone, having departed on their long march to the coast, while many 
 of the Chancas themselves were slipping back to their own country. 
 Therefore Huaracha's hour had passed by. 
   
 So at length we agreed that it would be foolish to attack Cuzco in 
 order to try to rescue Quilla, since even if Huaracha won in face of a 
 desperate defence, probably it would be only to find that his daughter 
 was dead or had vanished away to some unknown and distant convent. All 
 that we could do was to trust to fortune to deliver her into our hands. 
 We agreed further that, having obtained an honourable peace and all 
 else that he desired, it would be well for Huaracha to return to his own 
 land, leaving me a body of five thousand picked men who were willing to 
 serve under me, to assist in the war against Urco, to be my guard and 
 that of Quilla, if perchance I could deliver her from the House of the 
 Sun. 
   
 When this was known five thousand of the best and bravest of the 
 Chancas, young soldiers who sought adventure and battle and whom I had 
 trained, stepped forward at once and swore themselves to my service. 
 Bidding farewell to Huaracha, with these troops I returned to Cuzco, 
 sending messengers ahead to explain the reason of their coming to Kari, 
 who welcomed them well and gave them quarters round the palace which was 
 allotted to me. 
   
 A few days later we advanced on the town Huarina, a great host of us, 
 and outside of it met the yet greater host of Urco in a mighty battle 
 that endured for a day and a night, and yet, like that of the Field of 
 Blood, remained neither lost nor won. When the thousands of the dead had 
 been buried and the wounded sent back to Cuzco, we attacked the city 
 of Huarina, I leading the van with my Chancas, and stormed the place, 
 driving Urco and his forces out on the farther side. 
   
 They retreated to the mountains and there followed a long and tedious 
 war without great battles. At length, although the Inca's armies had 
 suffered sorely, we forced those of Urco to the shores of the Lake 
 Titicaca, where most of them melted away into the swamps and certain 
 tree-clad, low-lying valleys. Urco himself, however, with a number of 
 followers, escaped in boats to the holy island in the lake. 
   
 We built a fleet of _balsas_ with reeds and blown-out sheepskins, and 
 followed him. Landing on the isle we stormed the city of temples which 
 were more wondrous and even fuller of gold and precious things than 
 those of Cuzco. Here the men of Urco fought desperately, but driving 
 them from street to street, at length we penned them in one of the 
 largest of the temples of which by some mischance a reed roof was set 
 on fire, so that there they perished miserably. It was a dreadful scene 
 such as I never wish to behold again. Also, after all Urco and some 
 of his captains, breaking out of the burning temple under cover of the 
 smoke escaped, either in _balsas_ or, as many declare, by swimming the 
 lake. At least they were gone nor search as we might on the mainland 
 could they be found. 
   
 So all being finished, except for the escape of Urco, we returned to 
 Cuzco which Kari entered in triumph, I marching at his side, wearied out 
 with war and bloodshed. 
   
   
   
 CHAPTER XI 
   
 THE HOUSE OF DEATH 
   
 Now at one time during this long war against Urco victory smiled 
 upon him, though afterwards the scale went down against him. Kari was 
 defeated in a pitched battle and I who commanded another army was 
 almost surrounded in a valley. When everything seemed lost, afterwards 
 I escaped by leading my soldiers round up the slope of a mountain and 
 surprising Urco in the rear, but as it ended well for us I need not 
 speak of that matter. 
   
 It was while all was at its blackest for us that a certain officer was 
 brought to me who was captured while striving to desert, or at least to 
 pass our outposts. As it happened I knew this man again having, 
 unseen myself, noted him on the previous day talking earnestly to 
 the high-priest Larico, who, with other priests, accompanied my army, 
 perhaps to keep a watch on me. I took this captain apart and questioned 
 him alone, threatening him with death by torment if he did not reveal 
 his errand to me. 
   
 In the end, being very much afraid, he spoke. From him I learned that 
 he was a messenger from Larico to Urco. Believing that our defeat was 
 almost certain, Larico had sent him to make his peace with Urco by 
 betraying all Kari's and my own plans to him and revealing how he might 
 most easily destroy us. He said also that he, Larico, had only joined 
 the party of Upanqui, and of Kari after him, under threats of death and 
 that always in his heart he had been true to Urco, whom he acknowledged 
 as his Lord and as the rightful Inca whom he would help to restore to 
 the Throne with all the power of the Priesthood of the Sun. Further, 
 he sent by this spy a secret message by means of little cords cunningly 
 knotted, which knots served these people as writing, since they could 
 read them as we read a book. 
   
 Now, being always desirous of knowledge, I had caused myself to be 
 instructed in the plan of this knot-writing which by this time I could 
 read well enough. Therefore I was able to spell out this message. It 
 said shortly but plainly, that knowing he still desired her, he, Larico, 
 as high-priest would hand over to Urco the lady Quilla, daughter to 
 the King of the Chancas who unlawfully had been hidden away among 
 the Virgins of the Sun, also that he would betray me, the 
 White-God-from-the-Sea who sought to steal her away, into Urco's hands, 
 that he might kill me if he could. 
   
 When I had mastered all this I was filled with rage and bethought me 
 that I would cause Larico to be taken and suffer the fate of traitors. 
 Soon, however, I changed this mind of mine and placing the spy in close 
 keeping where none could come at him, I set a watch on Larico but said 
 nothing to him or to Kari of all that I had learned. 
   
 A few days later our fortunes changed and Urco, defeated, was in full 
 flight to the shores of Lake Titicaca. After this I knew we had nothing 
 more to fear from this fox-hearted high-priest who above everything 
 desired to be on the winning side and to continue in his place and 
 power. So knowing that I held him fast I bided my time, because through 
 him alone I could hope to come at Quilla. That time came after the 
 war was over and we had returned to Cuzco in triumph. As soon as the 
 rejoicings were over and Kari was firmly seated on his throne, I sent 
 for Larico, which, as the greatest man in the kingdom after the Inca, I 
 was able to do. 
   
 He appeared in answer to my summons and we bowed to each other, after 
 which he began to praise me for my generalship, saying that had it not 
 been for me, Urco would have won the war and that the Inca had done well 
 to name me his Brother before the people and to say that to me he owed 
 his throne. 
   
 "Yes, that is true," I answered, "and now, since through me, you, 
 Larico, are the third greatest man in the kingdom and remain High-Priest 
 of the Sun and Whisperer in the Inca's ear, I would put you in mind of 
 a certain bargain that we made when I promised you all these things, 
 Larico." 
   
 "What bargain, Lord-of-the-Sea." 
   
 "That you would bring me and a Virgin of the Sun, who while she was of 
 the earth was named Quilla, together, Larico, and enable her to return 
 from those of the Sun to my arms, Larico." 
   
 Now his face grew troubled and he answered: 
   
 "Lord, I have thought much of this matter, desiring above all things to 
 fulfil my word and I grieve to tell you that it is impossible." 
   
 "Why, Larico?" 
   
 "Because I find that the law of my faith is against it, Lord." 
   
 "Is that all, Larico?" I asked with a smile. 
   
 "No, Lord. Because I find that the Inca would not suffer it and swears 
 to kill all who attempt to touch the lady Quilla." 
   
 "Is that all, Larico?" 
   
 "No, Lord. Because I find that a woman who has been betrothed to one of 
 the royal blood may never pass to another man." 
   
 "Now perhaps we come nearer to it, Larico. You mean that if this 
 happened and perchance after all Urco should come to the throne, as he 
 might do if Kari his brother died--as any man may die--he would hold you 
 to account." 
   
 "Yes, Lord, if that chanced, as chance it may, since Urco still lives 
 and I hear is gathering new armies among the mountains, certainly he 
 would hold me to account for I have heard as much. Also our father 
 the Sun would hold me to account and so would the Inca who wields his 
 sceptre upon earth." 
   
 I asked him why he did not think of all these things before when he had 
 much to gain instead of now when he had gained them through me, and he 
 answered because he had not considered them enough. Then I pretended to 
 grow angry and exclaimed: 
   
 "You are a rogue, Larico! You promise and take your pay and you do not 
 perform. Henceforth I am your enemy and one to whom the Inca hearkens." 
   
 "He hearkens still more to this god the Sun and to me who am the voice 
 of God, White Man," he answered, adding insolently, "You would strike 
 too late; your power over me and my fortunes is gone, White Man." 
   
 "I fear it is so," I replied, pretending to be frightened, "so let us 
 say no more of the matter. After all, there are other women in Cuzco 
 besides this fair bride of the Sun. Now before you go, High-Priest, will 
 you who are so learned help me who am ignorant? I have been striving to 
 master your method of conveying thoughts by means of knots. Here I have 
 a bundle of strings which I cannot altogether understand. Be pleased to 
 interpret them to me, O most holy and upright High-Priest." 
   
 Then from my robe I drew out those knotted fibres that I had taken from 
 his messenger and held them before Larico's eyes. 
   
 He stared at them and turned pale. His hand groped for his dagger till 
 he saw that mine was on the hilt of Wave-Flame, whereon he let it fall. 
 Next the thought took him that in truth I could not read the knots which 
 he began to interpret falsely. 
   
 "Have done, Traitor," I laughed, "for I know them all. So Urco may wed 
 Quilla and I may not. Also cease to fret as to that messenger of 
 yours for whom you seek far and near, since he is safe in my keeping. 
 To-morrow I take him to deliver his message not to Urco, but to 
 Kari--and then, Traitor?" 
   
 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. 
   
 That day I did many things. Now, being so great a general and man--or 
 god--among these people, I had those about me who were sworn to my 
 service and whom I could trust. For one of these, a prince of the Inca 
 blood, of the House of Kari's mother, I sent and gave to him those 
 knotted cords that were the proof of Larico's treachery, bidding him if 
 aught of evil overtook me, or if I could not be found, to deliver them 
 to the Inca on my behalf and with them the prisoned messenger who was in 
 his keeping, but meanwhile to show them to no man. He bowed and swore by 
 the Sun to do my bidding, thinking doubtless that, my work finished in 
 this land, I purposed to return into the sea out of which I had risen, 
 as doubtless a god could do. 
   
 Next I summoned the captains of the Chancas who had fought under me 
 throughout the civil war, of whom about half remained alive, and bade 
 them gather their men upon the ridge where I had stood at the beginning 
 of the battle of the Field of Blood, and wait until I joined them 
 there. If it chanced, however, that I did not appear within six days 
 I commanded that they should march back to their own country and make 
 report to King Huaracha that I had "returned into the sea" for reasons 
 that he would guess. Also I commanded that eight famous warriors whom I 
 named, men of my own bodyguard who had fought with me in all our battles 
 and would have followed me through fire or water or the gates of Hell 
 themselves, should come to the courtyard of my palace after nightfall, 
 bringing a litter and disguised as its bearers, but having their arms 
 hidden beneath their cloaks. 
   
 These matters settled, I waited upon the Inca Kari and craved of him 
 leave to take a journey. I told him that I was weary with so much 
 fighting and desired to rest amidst my friends the Chancas. 
   
 He gazed at me awhile, then stretched out his sceptre to me in token 
 that my request was granted, and said in a sad voice: 
   
 "So you would leave me, my brother, because I cannot give you that which 
 you desire. Bethink you. You will be no nearer to the Moon (by which 
 he meant Quilla) at Chanca than you are at Cuzco and here, next to the 
 Inca, you are the greatest in the Empire who by decree are named his 
 brother and the general of his armies." 
   
 Now, though my gorge rose at it, I lied to him, saying: 
   
 "The Moon is set for me, so let her sleep whom I shall see no more. For 
 the rest, learn, O Kari, that Huaracha has sworn to me that I shall be, 
 not his brother but his son, and Huaracha is sick--they say to death." 
   
 "You mean that you would choose to be King over the Chancas rather 
 than stand next to the throne among the Quichuas?" he said, scanning me 
 sharply. 
   
 "Aye, Kari," I replied, still lying. "Since I must dwell in this strange 
 land, I would do so as a king--no less." 
   
 "To that you have a right, Brother, who are far above us all. But when 
 you are a king, what is your plan? Do you purpose to strive to conquer 
 me and rule over Tavantinsuyu, as perchance you could do?" 
   
 "Nay, I shall never make war upon you, Kari, unless you break your 
 treaty with the Chancas and strive to subdue them." 
   
 "Which I shall never do, Brother." 
   
 Then he paused awhile and spoke again with more passion that I had ever 
 known in him, saying: 
   
 "Would that this woman who comes between us were dead. Would that she 
 had never been born. In truth, I am minded to pray to my father, the 
 Sun, that he will be pleased to take her to himself, for then perchance 
 we two might be as we were in the old time yonder in your England, and 
 when we faced perils side by side upon the ocean and in the forests. A 
 curse on Woman the Divider, and all the curses of all the gods upon this 
 woman whom I may not give to you. Had she been of my Household I would 
 have bidden you to take her, yes, even if she were my wife, but she is 
 the wife of the god and therefore I may not--alas! I may not," and he 
 hid his face in his robe and groaned. 
   
 Now when I heard these words I grew afraid who knew well that she of 
 whom the Inca prays the Sun that she may die, does die, and swiftly. 
   
 "Do not add to this lady's wrongs by robbing her of life as well as of 
 sight and liberty, Kari," I said. 
   
 "Have no fear, Brother," he answered, "she is safe from me. No word 
 shall pass my lips though it is true that in my heart I wish that she 
 would die. Go your ways, Brother and Friend, and when you grow weary 
 of kingship if it comes to you, as to tell truth already I grow weary, 
 return to me. Perchance, forgetting that we had been kings, we might 
 journey hence together over the world's edge." 
   
 Then he stood up on his throne and bowed towards me, kissing the air as 
 though to a god, and taking the royal chain that every Inca wore from 
 about his neck, set it upon mine. This done, turning, he left me without 
 another word. 
   
 With a heavy heart I returned to my palace where I dwelt. At sundown I 
 ate according to my custom, and dismissed those who waited upon me to 
 the servants' quarters. There were but two of them for my private life 
 was simple. Then I slept till past midnight and rising, went into 
 the courtyard where I found the eight Chanca captains disguised 
 as litter-bearers and with them the litter. I led them to an empty 
 guard-house and bade them stay there in silence. After this I returned 
 to my chamber and waited. 
   
 About two hours before the dawn Larico came, knocking on the side-door 
 as we had planned. I opened to him and he entered disguised in a hooded 
 cloak of sheep's wool which covered his robes and his face, such as 
 priests wear when the weather is cold. He gave to me the garments of a 
 priest of the Sun which he had brought with him in a cloth. I clothed 
 myself in them though because of the fashion of them to do this I must 
 be rid of my armour which would have betrayed me. Larico desired that I 
 should take off the sword Wave-Flame also, but, mistrusting him, this 
 I would not do, but made shift to hide it and my dagger beneath the 
 priest's cloak. The armour I wrapped in a bundle and took with me. 
   
 Presently we went out, having spoken few words since the time for speech 
 had gone by and peril or some fear of what might befall weighed upon our 
 tongues. In the guard-house I found the Chancas at whom Larico looked 
 curiously but said nothing. To them I gave the bundle of armour to be 
 hidden in the litter and with it my long bow, having first revealed 
 myself to them by lifting the hood of my cloak. Then I bade them follow 
 me. 
   
 Larico and I walked in front and after us came the eight men, four of 
 them bearing the empty litter, and the other four marching behind. This 
 was well planned since if any saw us or if we met guards as once or 
 twice we did, these thought that we were priests taking one who was sick 
 or dead to be tended or to be made ready for burial. Once, however, we 
 were challenged, but Larico spoke some word and we passed on without 
 question. 
   
 At length in the darkness before the dawn we came to the private palace 
 of dead Upanqui. At its garden gate Larico would have had me leave the 
 litter with the eight Chanca warriors disguised as bearers. I refused, 
 saying that they must come to the doors of the palace, and when he grew 
 urgent, tapped my sword, whispering to him fiercely that he had best 
 beware lest it should be he who stayed at the gate. Then he gave way 
 and we advanced all of us across the garden to the door of the palace. 
 Larico unlocked the door with a key and we entered, he and I alone, for 
 here I bade the Chancas await my return. 
   
 We crept down a short passage that was curtained at its end. Passing 
 the curtains I found myself in Upanqui's banqueting-hall. This hall was 
 dimly lit with one hanging golden lamp. By its light I saw something 
 more wondrous and of its sort more awful than ever I had seen in that 
 strange land. 
   
 There, on a dais, in his chair of gold, sat dead Upanqui arrayed in all 
 his gorgeous Inca robes and so marvellously preserved that he might have 
 been a man asleep. With arms crossed and his sceptre at his side, he sat 
 staring down the hall with fixed and empty eyes, a dreadful figure of 
 life in death. About him and around the dais were set all his riches, 
 vases and furniture of gold, and jewels piled in heaps, there to remain 
 till the roof fell in and buried them, since on this hallowed wealth 
 the boldest dared not lay a hand. In the centre of the hall, also, was 
 a table prepared as though for feasters, for amid jewelled cups and 
 platters stood the meats and wines which day by day were brought afresh 
 by the Virgins of the Sun. Doubtless there were more wonders, but these 
 I could not see because the light did not reach them, or to the doorways 
 of the chambers that opened from the hall. Moreover, there was something 
 else which caught my eye. 
   
 At the foot of the dais crouched a figure which at first I took to be 
 that of some dead one also embalmed, perhaps a wife or daughter of the 
 dead Inca who had been set with him in this place. While I stared at 
 it the figure stirred, having heard our footsteps, rose and turned, 
 standing so that the light from the hanging lamp fell full upon it. It 
 was Quilla clad in white and purple with a golden likeness of the Sun 
 blazoned upon her breast! 
   
 So beauteous did she look searching the darkness with great blind eyes 
 and her rich flowing hair flowing from beneath her jewelled headdress, 
 a diadem fashioned to resemble the Sun's rays, that my breath failed me 
 and my heart stood still. 
   
 "There stands she whom you seek," muttered Larico in a mocking whisper, 
 for here even he did not seem to dare to talk aloud. "Go take her, you 
 whom men call a god, but I call a drunken fool ready to risk all for 
 a woman's lips. Go take her and ask the blessing upon your kisses of 
 yonder dead king whose holy rest you break." 
   
 "Be silent," I whispered back and passed round the table till I came 
 face to face with Quilla. Then a strange dumbness fell upon me like a 
 spell or dead Upanqui's curse, so that I could not speak. 
   
 I stood there staring at those beautiful blind eyes and the blind eyes 
 stared back at me. Presently a look of understanding gathered on the 
 face and Quilla spoke, or rather murmured to herself. 
   
 "Strange--but I could have sworn! Strange, but I seemed to feel! Oh! I 
 slept in my vigils upon that dead old man who in life was so foolish 
 and in death appears to have become so wise, and sleeping I dreamed. I 
 dreamed I heard a step I shall never hear again. I dreamed one was near 
 me whom I shall never touch again. I will sleep once more, for in my 
 darkness what are left to me save sleep and--death?" 
   
 Then at last I found my tongue and said hoarsely, 
   
 "Love is left, Quilla, and--life." 
   
 She heard and straightened herself. Her whole body seemed to become 
 rigid as though with an agony of joy. Her blind eyes flashed, her lips 
 quivered. She stretched out her hand, feeling at the darkness. Her 
 fingers touched my forehead, and thence she ran them swiftly over my 
 face. 
   
 "It is--dead or living--it is----" and she opened her arms. 
   
 Oh! was there ever anything more beautiful on the earth than this sight 
 of the blind Quilla thus opening her arms to me there in the gorgeous 
 house of death? 
   
 We clung and kissed. Then I thrust her away, saying: 
   
 "Come swiftly from this ill-omened place. All is ready. The Chancas 
 wait." 
   
 She slipped her hand into mine and I turned to lead her away. 
   
 Then it was that I heard a low, mocking laugh, Larico's, I thought, 
 heard also a sound of creeping footsteps around me. I looked. Out of the 
 darkness that hid the doors of the chamber on the right appeared a giant 
 form which I knew for that of Urco, and behind him others. I looked 
 to the left and there were more of them, while in front beyond the 
 gold-laid board stood the traitor, Larico, laughing. 
   
 "You have the first fruits, but it seems that another will reap the 
 harvest, Lord-from-the-Sea," he jeered. 
   
 "Seize her," cried Urco in his guttural voice, pointing to Quilla with 
 his mace, "and brain that white thief." 
   
 I drew Wave-Flame and strove to get at him, but from both sides men 
 rushed in on me. One I cut down, but the others snatched Quilla away. 
 I was surrounded, with no room to wield my sword, and already weapons 
 flashed over me. A thought came to me. The Chancas were at the door. I 
 must reach them, for perhaps so Quilla might be saved. In front was 
 the table spread for the death feast. With a bound I leapt on to it, 
 shouting aloud and scattering its golden furnishings this way and that. 
 Beyond stood the traitor, Larico, who had trapped me--I sprang at him 
 and lifting Wave-Flame with both hands I smote with all my strength. He 
 fell, as it seemed to me, cloven to the middle. Then some spear cast at 
 me struck the lamp. 
   
 It shattered and went out! 
   
   
   
 CHAPTER XII 
   
 THE FIGHT TO THE DEATH 
   
 There was tumult in the hall; shoutings, groans from him whom I had 
 first struck down, the sound of vases and vessels overthrown, and above 
 all those of a woman's shrieks echoing from the walls and roof, so that 
 I could not tell whence they came. 
   
 Through the gross darkness I went on towards the curtains, or so I 
 hoped. Presently they were torn open, and by the faint light of the 
 breaking dawn I saw my eight Chancas rushing towards me. 
   
 "Follow!" I cried, and at the head of them groped my way back up the 
 hall, seeking for Quilla. I stumbled over the dead body of Larico and 
 felt a path round the table. Then suddenly a door at the back of the 
 hall was thrown open and by the grey light which came through the 
 doorway I perceived the last of the ravishers departing. We scrambled 
 across the dais where the golden chair was overthrown and the embalmed 
 Upanqui lay, a stiff and huddled heap upon his back, staring at me with 
 jewelled eyes. 
   
 We gained the door which, happily, none had remembered to close, and 
 passed out into the parklike grounds beyond. A hundred paces or more 
 ahead of us, by the glowing light, I saw a litter passing between the 
 trees surrounded by armed men, and knew that in it was Quilla being 
 borne to captivity and shame. 
   
 After it we sped. It passed the gate of the park wall, but when we 
 reached that gate it was shut and barred and we must waste time breaking 
 it down, which we did by help of a felled tree that lay at hand. We were 
 through it, and now the rim of the sun had appeared so that through the 
 morning mist, which clung to the hillside beyond the town, we could 
 see the litter, the full half of a mile away. On we went up the hill, 
 gaining as we ran, for we had no litter to bear, nor aught else save the 
 sack of armour which one of the Chancas had thought to bring with him 
 when he rushed into the hall, and with it my long bow and shaft. 
   
 Now, at a certain place between this hill and another there was a gorge 
 such as are common in that country, a gorge so deep and narrow that 
 in places the light of day scarcely struggles to the pathways at its 
 bottom. Into this tunnel the litter vanished and when we drew near I saw 
 that its mouth was held by armed men, six of them or more. Taking my bow 
 from the Chanca I strung it and shot swiftly. The man at whom I aimed 
 went down. Again I shot and another fell, whereon the rest of them took 
 cover behind stones. 
   
 Throwing back the bow to the Chanca, for now it was useless, we charged. 
 That business was soon over, for presently all those of Urco's men who 
 remained there were dead, save one who, being cut off, fled down hill 
 towards the city, taking with him the news of what had passed in the 
 palace of dead Upanqui. 
   
 We entered the mouth of the gorge, plunging towards the gloom, though as 
 it chanced this place faced towards the east, so that the low sun, which 
 now was fully up, shone down it and gave us light that later would have 
 been lacking. 
   
 I, who was very swift of foot and to whom rage and fear gave wings, 
 outran my companions. Swinging myself round a rock which lay in the 
 pathway, I saw the litter again not a hundred yards ahead. It halted 
 because, as it seemed to me, one or more of the bearers stumbled and 
 fell among the stones. I rushed at them, roaring. Perhaps it had been 
 wiser to wait for my companions, but I was mad and feared nothing. They 
 saw me and a cry went up of: 
   
 "The White God! The terrible White God!" 
   
 Then fear took hold of them and they fled, leaving the litter on the 
 ground. Yes, all of them fled save one, Urco himself. 
   
 He stood there rolling his eyes and gnashing his teeth, looking huge 
 and awful in those shadows, looking like a devil from hell. Suddenly a 
 thought seemed to take him, and leaping at the litter he tore aside its 
 curtains and dragged out Quilla, who fell prone upon the ground. 
   
 "If I may not have her, you shall not, White Thief. See! I give back his 
 bride to the Sun," he shouted, and lifted his copper sword to pierce her 
 through. 
   
 Now I was still ten paces or so away and saw that before I could reach 
 him that sword would be in her heart. What could I do? Oh! St. Hubert 
 must have helped me then for I knew in an instant. In my hand was 
 Wave-Flame and with all my strength I hurled it at his head. 
   
 The great blade hurtled hissing through the air. I saw the sunlight 
 shine on it. He strove to leap clear, but too late, for it caught him 
 on the hand that he had lifted to protect his head, and shore off two of 
 his fingers so that he dropped his sword. Next instant, still roaring, 
 as doubtless old Thorgrimmer, my forefather, used to do when he fought 
 to the death, for blood is very strong, I leapt on the giant, who like 
 myself was swordless. There in the gulf we wrestled. He was a mighty 
 man, but now my strength was as that of ten. I threw him to the ground 
 by a Sussex trick I knew and there we rolled over and over each other. 
 Once he had me undermost and I think would have choked me, had it not 
 been that his right hand lacked two fingers. 
   
 With a mighty heave I lifted him so that now we lay side by side. He 
 was groping for a knife--I did not see, but knew it. Near his head a 
 sharp-edged stone rose in the path to the height of a man's hand or 
 more. I saw it and bethought me what to do if I could. Again I heaved 
 and as at length he found the knife and stabbed at me, scratching my 
 face, I got his bull's neck upon that stone. Then I loosed my hand and 
 caught him by the hair. Back I pressed his great head, back and back 
 with all my might till something snapped. 
   
 Urco's neck was broken. Urco quivered and was dead! 
   
 I lay by his side, panting. A voice came from the white heap upon the 
 ground by whom and for whom this dreadful combat had been fought, the 
 voice of Quilla. 
   
 "One died, but who lives?" asked the voice. 
   
 I could not answer because I had no breath. All my strength was gone. 
 Still I sat up, supporting myself with my hand and hoping that it would 
 come back. Quilla turned her face towards me, or rather towards the 
 sound that I had made in moving, and I thought to myself how sad it was 
 that she should be blind. Presently she spoke again and now her voice 
 quavered: 
   
 "I _see_ who it is that lives," she said. "Something has broken in my 
 eyes and, Lord and Love, I see that it is _you_ who live. You, you, and 
 oh! you bleed." 
   
 Then the Chancas came bounding down the gorge and found us. 
   
 They looked at the dead giant and saw how he had died, killed by 
 strength, not by the sword; they looked and bent the knee and praised 
 me, saying that I was indeed a god, since no man could have done this 
 deed, killing the huge Urco with his naked hands. Then they placed 
 Quilla back in her litter and six of them bore her down that black 
 gorge. The two who remained, for in that fight none of them had been 
 hurt, supported me till my strength came back, for the cut in the face 
 that I had received from Urco's dagger was but slight. We reached the 
 mouth of the gorge and took counsel. 
   
 To return to Cuzco after what I had done, would be to seek death. So we 
 bore away to the right and, making a round, came about ten o'clock of 
 the morning unmolested by any, to that ridge on which I had stood at the 
 beginning of the battle of the Field of Blood. There I found the Chancas 
 encamped, some three thousand of them, as I had commanded. When they 
 saw me, living and but little hurt, they shouted for joy, and when they 
 learned who was in that litter they went well-nigh mad. 
   
 Then the eight warriors with me told them all the tale of the saving 
 of Quilla and the death of the giant Urco at my hands, whereon their 
 captains came and kissed my feet, saying that I was in truth a god, 
 though heretofore some of them had held me to be but a man. 
   
 "God or man," I answered, "I must rest. Let the women tend to lady 
 Quilla, and give me food and drink, after which I will sleep. At sunset 
 we march home to Huaracha, your king and mine, to give him back his 
 daughter. Till then there is naught to fear, since Kari has no troops at 
 hand with which to attack us. Still, set outposts." 
   
 So I ate and drank, but little of the former and much of the latter, I 
 fear, and after that I slept as soundly as one who is dead, for I was 
 outworn. 
   
 When the sun was within an hour of setting, captains awakened me and 
 said that an embassy from Cuzco, ten men only, waited outside our lines, 
 seeking speech with me. So I rose, and my face and wound having been 
 dressed, caused water to be poured over my body, and was rubbed with 
 oil; after which, clothed in the robes of a Chanca noble, but wearing no 
 armour, I went out with nine Chanca captains to receive the embassy on 
 the plain at the foot of the hill, at that very spot where first I had 
 fought with Urco. 
   
 When we drew near, from out of the group of nobles advanced one man. I 
 looked and saw that he was Kari, yes, the Inca himself. 
   
 I went forward to meet him and we spoke together just out of earshot of 
 our followers. 
   
 "My brother," said Kari, "I have learned all that has passed and I 
 give you praise who are the most daring among men and the first among 
 warriors; you who slew the giant Urco with your naked hands." 
   
 "And thus made your throne safe for you, Kari." 
   
 "And thus made my throne safe for me. You also who clove Larico to the 
 breast in the death-house of Upanqui, my father----" 
   
 "And thus delivered you from a traitor, Kari." 
   
 "And thus delivered me from a traitor, as I have learned also from your 
 messenger who handed to me the knotted cord, and from the spy whom you 
 had in your keeping. I repeat that you are the most daring among men and 
 the first among warriors; almost a god as my people name you." 
   
 I bowed, and after a little silence he went on: 
   
 "Would that this were all that I have to say. But alas! it is not. You 
 have committed the great sacrilege against the Sun, my father, of which 
 I warned you, having robbed him of his bride, and, my brother, you have 
 lied to me, who told me but yesterday that you had put all thought of 
 her from your mind." 
   
 "To me that was no sacrilege, Kari, but rather a righteous deed, to free 
 one from the bonds of a faith in which neither she nor I believe, and to 
 lead her from a living tomb back to life and love." 
   
 "And was the lie righteous also, Brother?" 
   
 "Aye," I answered boldly, "if ever a lie can be. Bethink you. You prayed 
 that this lady might die because she came between you and me, and those 
 that kings pray may die, do die, if not with their knowledge or by their 
 express command. Therefore I said that I had put her from my mind in 
 order that she might go on living." 
   
 "To cherish you in her arms, Brother. Now hearken. Because of this deed 
 of yours, we who were more than friends have become more than foes. You 
 have declared war upon my god and me; therefore I declare war upon you. 
 Yet hearken again. I do not wish that thousands of men should perish 
 because of our quarrel. Therefore I make an offer to you. It is that you 
 should fight me here and now, man to man, and let the Sun, or Pachacamac 
 beyond the Sun, decide the matter as may be decreed." 
   
 "Fight _you!_ Fight _you_ Kari, the Inca," I gasped. 
   
 "Aye, fight me to the death, since between us all is over and done. In 
 England you nurtured me. Here in the land of Tavantinsuyu, which I rule 
 to-day, I have nurtured you, and in my shadow you have grown great, 
 though it is true that had it not been for your generalship, perchance 
 I should no longer be here to throw the shadow. Let us therefore set the 
 one thing against the other and, forgetting all between us that is past, 
 stand face to face as foes. Mayhap you will conquer me, being so mighty 
 a man of war. Mayhap, also, if that chances, my people who look upon you 
 as half a god will raise you up to be Inca after me, should such be your 
 desire." 
   
 "It is not," I broke in. 
   
 "I believe you," he answered, bowing his head, "but will it not be the 
 desire of that fair-faced harlot who has betrayed our Lord the Sun?" 
   
 At this word I started and bit my lip. 
   
 "Ah! that stings you," he went on, "as the truth always stings, and it 
 is well. Understand, White Lord who were once my brother, that either 
 you must fight me to the death, or I declare war upon you and upon the 
 Chanca people, which war I will wage from month to month and from year 
 to year until you are all destroyed, as destroyed you shall be. But 
 should you fight and should the Sun give me the victory, then justice 
 will be accomplished and I will keep the peace that I have sworn with 
 the Chanca people. Further, should you conquer me, in the name of my 
 people I swear that there shall still be peace between them and the 
 Chancas, since I shall have atoned your sacrilege with my blood. Now 
 summon those lords of yours and I will summon mine, and set out the 
 matter to them." 
   
 So I turned and beckoned to my captains, and Kari beckoned to his. They 
 came, and in the hearing of all, very clearly and quietly as was his 
 fashion, he repeated every word that he had said to me, adding to 
 them others of like meaning. While he spoke I thought, not listening 
 over-much. 
   
 This thing was hateful to me, yet I was in a snare, since according to 
 the customs of all these peoples I could not refuse such a challenge and 
 remain unshamed. Moreover, it was to the advantage of the Chancas, 
 aye, and of the Quichuas also, that I should not refuse it seeing 
 that whether I lived or died, peace would then reign between them who 
 otherwise must both be destroyed by war. I remembered how once Quilla 
 had sacrificed herself to prevent such a war, though in the end that war 
 had come; and what Quilla had done, should I not do also? Weary though 
 I was I did not fear Kari, brave and swift as he might be, indeed I 
 thought that I could kill him and perhaps take his throne, since the 
 Quichuas worshipped me, who so often had led their armies to triumph, 
 almost as much as did the Chancas. But--I could not kill Kari. As soon 
 would I kill one born of my own mother. Was there then no escape? 
   
 The answer rose in my mind. There was an escape. I could suffer Kari to 
 kill me. Only if I did this, what of Quilla! After all that had come and 
 gone, must I lose Quilla thus, and must Quilla lose me? Surely she would 
 break her heart and die. My plight was desperate. I knew not what to do. 
 Then of a sudden, while I wavered, some voice seemed to whisper in my 
 ear; I thought it must be that of St. Hubert. It seemed to say to me, 
 "Kari trusts to his god, cannot you trust to yours, Hubert of Hastings, 
 you who are a Christian man? Go forward, and trust to yours, Hubert of 
 Hastings." 
   
 Kari's gentle voice died away; he had finished his speech and all men 
 looked at me. 
   
 "What word?" I said roughly to my captains. 
   
 "Only this, Lord," answered their spokesman, "Fight you must, of that 
 there can be no doubt, but we would fight with you, the ten of the 
 Chancas against the ten of the Quichuas." 
   
 "Aye, that is good," replied the first of Kari's nobles. "This business 
 is too great to set upon one man's skill and strength." 
   
 "Have done!" I said. "It lies between the Inca and myself," while Kari 
 nodded, and repeated "Have done!" after me. 
   
 Then I sent one of the captains back to the camp for my sword and Kari 
 commanded that his should be brought to him, since according to the 
 custom of these people when ambassadors meet, neither of us was armed. 
 Presently, the captain holding my sword returned, and with him servants 
 who brought my armour. Also after them streamed all the army of the 
 Chancas among whom the news had spread like wind-driven fire, and lined 
 themselves upon the ridge to watch. As he came, too, I noticed that this 
 captain sharpened Wave-Flame with a certain kind of stone that was used 
 to give a keen edge to weapons. 
   
 He brought the ancient weapon and handed it to me on his knee. The 
 Inca's man also brought his sword and handed it to him, as he did so, 
 bowing his forehead to the dust. Well I knew that weapon, since once 
 before I had faced it in desperate battle for my life. It was the 
 ivory-handled sword of the lord Deleroy which Kari had taken from his 
 dead hand after I slew him in the Solar of my house in the Cheap at 
 London. Then the servant came to me with the armour, but I sent him 
 away, saying that as the Inca had none, I would not wear it, at which my 
 people murmured. 
   
 Kari saw and heard. 
   
 "Noble as ever," he said aloud. "Oh! that such bright honour should have 
 been tarnished by a woman's breath." 
   
 Our lords discussed the manner of our fighting, but to them I paid 
 little heed. 
   
 At length all was ready and we stepped forward to face each other at a 
 given word, clad much alike. I had thrown off my outer garment and stood 
 bareheaded in a jerkin of soft sheepskin. Kari, too, was stripped of his 
 splendid dress and clad in a tunic of sheepskin. Also, that we might 
 be quite equal, he had taken off his turban-like headgear and even the 
 royal Fringe, whereat his lords stared at each other for they thought 
 this a bad omen. 
   
 It was just then I heard a sound behind me, and turning my head I saw 
 Quilla stumbling towards us down the stony slope as best her half-blind 
 eyes would let her, and crying as she came: 
   
 "Oh! my Lord, fight not. Inca, I will return to the House of the Sun!" 
   
 "Silence, accursed woman!" said Kari, frowning. "Does the Sun take back 
 such as you? Silence until the woe that you have wrought is finished, 
 and then wail on forever." 
   
 She shrank back at his bitter, unjust words, and guided by the women who 
 had followed her, sank upon a stone, where she sat still as a statue or 
 as dead Upanqui in his hall. 
   
 Now one called aloud the pledges of the fight which were as Kari had 
 spoken them. He listened and added: 
   
 "Be it known, also, that this battle is to the death of one or both of 
 us, since if we live I take back my oaths and I will burn yonder witch 
 as a sacrifice to the Sun whom she has betrayed, and destroy her people 
 and her city according to the ancient law of Vengeance on the House of 
 those who have deceived the Sun." 
   
 I heard but made no answer, who did not wish to waste my breath in 
 bandying words with a great man, whose brain had been turned by bigotry 
 and woman-hatred. 
   
 A moment later the signal was given and we were at it. Kari leapt at me 
 like the tree-lion of his own forests, but I avoided and parried. Thrice 
 he leapt and thrice I did this; yes, even when I saw an opening and 
 might have cut him down. Almost I struck, then could not. The Chancas 
 watched me, wondering what game I played who was not wont to fight 
 in this fashion, and I also wondered, who still knew not what to do. 
 Something I must do, or presently I should be slain, since soon my guard 
 would fail and Deleroy's sword get home at last. 
   
 I think that Kari grew perplexed at this patient defence of mine, and 
 never a blow struck back. At least he withdraw a little, then came for 
 me with a rush, holding his sword high above his head with the purpose 
 of striking me above that guard, or so I supposed. Then, of a sudden, I 
 knew what to do. Wheeling Wave-Flame with all my strength in both hands, 
 I smote, not at Kari but at the ivory handle of his sword. The keen and 
 ancient steel that might well have been some of that which, as legend 
 told, was forged by the dwarfs in Norseland, fell upon the ivory between 
 his hand-grip and the cross-piece and shore through it as I had hoped 
 that it would do, so that the blade of Kari's sword, severed just above 
 the hilt, fell to the ground and the hilt itself was jarred from his 
 hand. 
   
 His nobles saw and groaned while the Chancas shouted with joy, for now 
 Kari was defenceless and save for the death itself, this fight to the 
 death was ended. 
   
 Kari folded his arms upon his breast and bent his head. 
   
 "It is the decree of my god," he said, "and I did ill to trust to the 
 sword of a villain whom you slew. Strike, Conqueror, and make an end." 
   
 I rested myself upon Wave-Flame and answered: 
   
 "If I strike not, O Inca, will you take back your words and let peace 
 reign between your people and the Chancas?" 
   
 "Nay," he answered. "What I have said, I have said. If yonder false 
 woman is given up to suffer the fate of those who have betrayed the Sun, 
 then there shall be peace between the peoples, but not otherwise, since 
 while I live I will wage war upon her and you, and upon the Chancas who 
 shelter both of you." 
   
 Now rage took hold of me, who remembered that while this woman-hater 
 lived blood must flow in streams, but that if he died there would be 
 peace and Quilla would be safe. So I lifted my sword a little, and as I 
 did so Quilla rose from her stone and stumbled forward, crying: 
   
 "O Lord, shed not the Inca's holy blood for me. Let me be given up! Let 
 me be given up!" 
   
 Then some spirit entered into me and I spoke, saying: 
   
 "Lady, half of your prayer I grant and half I deny. I will not shed the 
 Inca's blood; as soon would I shed yours. Nor will I suffer you to be 
 given up who have done no wrong, since it was I who took you away by 
 force, as Urco would have done. Kari, hearken to me. Not once only when 
 we were in danger together in past days have you said to me that we 
 must put our faith in the gods we worship, and thus we did. Now again I 
 hearken to that counsel of yours and put my faith in the God I worship. 
 You threaten to gather all the strength of your mighty empire, and 
 because of what I hold to be your superstitions, to destroy the Chanca 
 people to the last babe and to level their city to the last stone. I 
 do not believe that the God I worship will suffer this to come about, 
 though how he will stay your vengeance I do not know. Kari, great 
 Inca of Tavantinsuyu, Lord of all this strange new world, I, the White 
 Wanderer-from-the-Sea, give you your life and save you as once before 
 I saved you in a far land, and with your life I give you my blessing in 
 all matters but this one alone. Kari, my brother, look your last on me 
 and go in peace." 
   
 The Inca heard, and raising his head, stared at me with his fine, 
 melancholy eyes. Then suddenly from those eyes there came a gush of 
 tears. More, he knelt before me and kissed the ground, as the humblest 
 of his slaves might do before his own majesty. 
   
 "Most noble of men," he said, lifting himself up again, "I worship you. 
 Yes, I, the Inca, worship you. Would that I might take back my oath, but 
 this I cannot do because my god hardens my heart and then would decree 
 destruction on my people. Mayhap he whom you serve will bring things to 
 pass as you foretell, as it would seem he has brought it to pass that 
 I should eat the dust before you. I hope that it may be so who love 
 not the sight of blood, but who like the shot arrow must yet follow my 
 course, driven by the strength that loosed me. Brother, honoured and 
 beloved, fare you well! May happiness be yours in life and death, and 
 there in death may we meet again and once more be brothers where no 
 women come to part us." 
   
   
   
 Then Kari turned and went with bowed head, together with his nobles, who 
 followed him as sadly as those who surround a corpse, but not until they 
 had given to me that royal salute which is only rendered to the Inca in 
 his glory. 
   
   
   
 CHAPTER XIII 
   
 THE KISS OF QUILLA 
   
 Her women bore Quilla swooning from that ill-fated field, and sick and 
 sad she remained until once more we saw the City of the Chancas. Yet all 
 this while strength and sight were returning to her eyes, so that in 
 the end she could see as well as ever she had done, for which I thanked 
 Heaven. 
   
 Messengers had gone before us, so that when we drew near all the people 
 of the Chancas came out to meet us, a mighty multitude, who spread 
 flowers before us and sang songs of joy. On the same evening I was 
 summoned by Huaracha and found him dying. There in the presence of 
 his chief captains Quilla and I told him all our story, to which he 
 listened, answering nothing. When it was finished he said: 
   
 "I thank you, Lord-from-the-Sea, who through great perils have saved my 
 daughter and brought her home to bid farewell to me, untarnished as 
 she went. I understand now that it was an evil policy which led me to 
 promise her in marriage to the prince Urco. Through your valour it has 
 come to naught and I am glad. Great dangers still lie ahead of you and 
 of my people. Deal with them as you will and can, for henceforward, 
 Lord-from-the-Sea, they are your people, yours and my daughter's 
 together, since it is my desire and command that you two should wed so 
 soon as I am laid with my fathers. Perchance it had been better if you 
 had slain the Inca when he was in your hand, but man goes where his 
 spirit leads him. My blessing and the blessing of my gods be on you both 
 and on your children. Leave me, for I can say no more." 
   
 That night King Huaracha died. 
   
 Three days later he was buried with great pomp beneath the floor of the 
 Temple of the Moon, not being preserved and kept above ground after the 
 fashion of the Incas. 
   
 On the last day of the mourning a council was summoned of all the great 
 ones in the country to the number of several hundreds, to which I was 
 bidden. This was done in the name of Quilla, who was now named by a 
 title which meant, "High Lady," or "Queen." I went to it eagerly enough 
 who had seen nothing of her since that night of her father's death, 
 for, according to the custom of this people, she had spent the time of 
 mourning alone with her women. 
   
 To my surprise I was led by an officer, not into the great hall where I 
 knew the notables were assembling, but to that same little chamber where 
 first I had talked with Huaracha, Quilla's father. Here the officer 
 left me wondering. Presently I heard a sound and looking up, saw Quilla 
 herself standing between the curtains, like to a picture in its frame. 
 She was royally arrayed and wore upon her brow and breast the emblem 
 of the moon, so that she seemed to glitter in that dusky place, though 
 nothing about her shone with such a light as did her large and doe-like 
 eyes. 
   
 "Greeting, my Lord," she said in her soft voice, curtseying to me as she 
 spoke. "Has my Lord aught to say to me? If so, it must be quick, since 
 the Great Council waits." 
   
 Now I grew foolish and tongue-tied, but at length stammered out: 
   
 "Nothing, except what I have said before--that I love you." 
   
 She smiled a little in her slow fashion, then asked: 
   
 "Is there naught to add?" 
   
 "What can there be to add to love, Quilla?" 
   
 "I know not," she answered, still smiling. "Yet in what does the love of 
 man and woman end?" 
   
 I shook my head and answered: 
   
 "In many things, all of them different. In hell sometimes, and more 
 rarely in heaven." 
   
 "And on earth which lies between the two, should those who love escape 
 death and separation?" 
   
 "Well, on earth--in marriage." 
   
 She looked at me again and this time a new light shone in her eyes which 
 I could not misinterpret. 
   
 "Do you mean that you will marry me, Quilla?" I muttered. 
   
 "Such was my father's wish, Lord, but what is yours? Oh! have done," she 
 went on in a changed voice. "For what have we suffered all these things 
 and gone through such long partings and dangers so dreadful? Was it not 
 that if Fate should spare us we might come together at last? And has not 
 Fate spared us--for a while? What said the prophecy of me in the Temple 
 of Rimac? Was it not that the Sun should be my refuge and--I forget the 
 rest." 
   
 "I remember it," I said. "That in the beloved arms you should sleep at 
 last." 
   
 "Yes," she went on, the blood mounting to her cheeks, "that in the 
 beloved arms I should sleep at last. So, the first part of the prophecy 
 has come true." 
   
 "As the rest shall come true," I broke in, awaking, and swept her to my 
 breast. 
   
 "Are you sure," she murmured presently, "that you love me, a woman whom 
 you think savage, well enough to wed me?" 
   
 "Aye, more than sure," I answered. 
   
 "Hearken, Lord. I knew it always, but being woman I desired to hear it 
 from your own lips. Of this be certain: that though I am but what I am, 
 a maiden, wild-hearted and untaught, no man shall ever have a truer and 
 more loving wife. It is my hope, even that my love will be such that in 
 it at last you may learn to forget that other lady far away who once was 
 yours, if only for an hour." 
   
 Now I shrank as from a sword prick, since first loves, whatever the tale 
 of them, as Quilla guessed or Nature taught her, are not easily forgot, 
 and even when they are dead their ghosts will rise and haunt us. 
   
 "And my hope, most dear, is that you will be mine, not for an hour but 
 for all our life's days," I answered. 
   
 "Aye," she said, sighing, "but who knows how many these will be? 
 Therefore let us pluck the flowers before they wither. I hear steps. The 
 lords come to summon us. Be pleased to enter the Council at my side and 
 holding me by the hand. There I have somewhat to say to the people. The 
 shadow of the Inca Kari, whom you spared, still lies cold upon us and 
 them." 
   
 Before I could ask her meaning the lords entered, three of them, and 
 glancing at us curiously, said that all were gathered. Then they turned 
 and went before us to the great hall where every place was filled. Hand 
 in hand we mounted the dais, and as we came all the audience rose and 
 greeted us with a roar of welcome. 
   
 Quilla seated herself upon a throne and motioned to me to take my place 
 upon another throne at her side, which I noted stood a little higher 
 than that on which she sat, and this, as I learned afterwards, not 
 by chance. It was planned so to tell the people, of the Chancas that 
 henceforth I was their king while she was but my wife. 
   
 When the shouting had died away Quilla rose from her throne and began to 
 speak, which like many of the higher class of this people she could do 
 well enough. 
   
 "Lords and Captains of the Chanca nation," she said, "my father, the 
 king Huaracha, being dead, leaving no lawful son, I have succeeded to 
 his dignities, and summoned you here to take counsel with me. 
   
 "First, learn this, that I, your Queen and Lady, have been chosen as 
 wife by him who sits at my side." 
   
 Here the company shouted again, thus announcing that this tidings 
 pleased them. For though by now only the common people still believed me 
 to be a god risen from the sea, all held that I was a great general and 
 a great man, one who knew much that they did not know, and who could 
 both lead and fight better than the best of them. Indeed, since I had 
 slain Urco with my hands and overcome Kari, who as Inca was believed to 
 be clothed with the strength of the Sun and therefore unconquerable, 
 I was held to be unmatched throughout Tavantinsuyu. Moreover, the army 
 that had fought under my command loved me as though I were their father 
 as well as their general. Therefore all greeted this tidings well enough 
 without astonishment, for they knew it was their dead king's wish that I 
 should wed his daughter and that to win her I had gone through much. 
   
 In answer to their shoutings I, too, rose from my seat, and drawing the 
 sword Wave-Flame, which I wore girt about my dinted armour, with it I 
 
 
 
 saluted first Quilla and then the gathered nobles, saying: 
   
 "Lords of the Chancas, when on an island in the sea, my eyes fell upon 
 this lady who to-day is your queen, I loved her and swore that I would 
 wed her if I might. Between that day and this much has befallen. She was 
 snatched away to be made the wife of Urco, heir to the Inca throne, and 
 afterwards, to escape him whom she hated, she took refuge in the House 
 of the Inca god. Then, people of the Chancas, came the great war which 
 we shared together, and in the end I rescued her from that house of 
 bondage, and slew Urco while he strove to steal or stab her. This done, 
 I conquered Kari the Inca, who was as my brother, yet because I saved 
 your lady from his god the Sun, became my enemy, and together she and 
 I returned to this, her land. Now it is her will to wed me, as it has 
 always been mine to wed her, and here in front of all of you I take her 
 to wife, as she takes me to husband, hoping that for many years it may 
 be given to us to rule over you, and to our children after us. Yet I 
 warn you that although in the great war that has been, if with much 
 loss, we have held our own against all the hosts of Cuzco and won an 
 honourable peace, by this marriage of ours, which robs the Inca god of 
 one of a thousand brides, that peace is broken. Therefore in the future, 
 as in the past, there will be war between the Quichua and the Chanca 
 peoples." 
   
 "We know it," shouted the nobles. "War is decreed, let war come!" 
   
 "What would you have had me do?" I went on. "Leave your queen to 
 languish in the House of the Sun, wed to nothingness, or suffer her to 
 be dragged away to be one of Urco's women, or hand her back to Kari to 
 be slain as a sacrifice to a god whom you do not accept?" 
   
 "Nay!" they cried. "We would have her wed you, White Lord-from-the-Sea, 
 that she may become a mother of kings." 
   
 "So I thought, Chancas. Yet I warn you that there is trouble near. The 
 storm gathers and soon it will burst, since Kari is not one who breaks 
 his oaths." 
   
 "Why did you not kill him when he was in your hand, and take his 
 throne?" asked one. 
   
 "Because I could not. Because it would not have been pleasing to Heaven 
 that I should slay a man who for years had been as my brother. Because 
 in this way or in that the deed would have fallen back upon my head, 
 upon the head of the lady Quilla, and upon your heads also, O people of 
 the Chancas, because----" 
   
 At this moment there was disturbance at the end of the hall, and a 
 herald cried: 
   
 "An embassy! An embassy from Kari, the Inca." 
   
 "Let it be admitted," said Quilla. 
   
 Presently up the central passage marched the embassy with pomp, great 
 lords and "earmen," every man of them, and bowed before us. 
   
 "Your words?" said Quilla quietly. 
   
 "They are these, Lady," answered the spokesman of the party. "For the 
 last time the Inca demands that you should surrender yourself to be 
 sacrificed as one who has betrayed the Sun. He asks it of you since he 
 has learned that your father Huaracha is no more." 
   
 "And if I refuse to surrender myself, what then, O Ambassador?" 
   
 "Then in the name of the Empire and in his own name the Inca declares 
 war upon you, war to the end, until not one of Chanca blood is left 
 living beneath the sun and not one stone marks where your city stood. It 
 may be that a while will pass before this sword of war falls upon your 
 head, since the Inca must gather his armies and give a breathing space 
 to his peoples after all the troubles that have been. Yet if not this 
 year, then next year, and if not next year, then the year after, that 
 sword shall fall." 
   
 Quilla listened and turned pale, though more, I think, with wrath than 
 fear. Then she said: 
   
 "You have heard, Chancas, and know how stands this case. If I surrender 
 myself to be sacrificed, the Inca in his mercy will spare you; if I do 
 not surrender myself, soon or late he will destroy you--if he can. Say, 
 then, shall I surrender myself?" 
   
 Now every man in that great hall leapt up and from every throat there 
 arose a shout of, 
   
 "Never!" 
   
 When it had died away an aged chief and councillor, an uncle of 
 Huaracha, the dead King, came forward and stared at the envoys with his 
 horny eyes. 
   
 "Go back to the Inca," he said, "and tell him that the threats of the 
 mouth are one thing and the deeds of the hand are another. In the late 
 war that has been he has learned something of our quality, both as foes 
 and friends, and perchance more remains for him to learn. Yonder is 
 one"--and he pointed to myself--"who is about to become our King and the 
 husband of our Queen. By the help of that one and of some of us the Inca 
 won his throne. From the mercy of that one, also, but a little while ago 
 the Inca won his life. Let him be careful lest through the might of 
 that one, behind whom stands every Chanca that breathes, the Inca Kari 
 Upanqui should yet lose both throne and life, and with them the ancient 
 empire of the Sun. Thus say we all." 
   
 "Thus say we all!" repeated the great company with a roar that shook the 
 walls. 
   
 In the silence that followed Quilla asked: 
   
 "Have you aught to add, O Ambassadors?" 
   
 "Ay, this," said the first of them. 
   
 "The Chanca tree is about to be cut down, but the Inca still offers a 
 refuge to the Lion that hides among its branches because he has loved 
 that Lion from of old. Let the White Lord-from-the-Sea over whom you 
 have cast the net of your witcheries return with us and he shall be 
 saved and given place and power, and with them a brother's love." 
   
 Now Quilla looked at me, and I rose to speak but could not, since all 
 that came from my lips was laughter. At length I said: 
   
 "But the other day when I gave him his life, the Inca named me noble. 
 What would he think of me if I said yes to this offer? Would he call me 
 noble then and the Lion that dwells in the Chanca tree? Or, whatever his 
 lips might speak, would not his heart name me the basest of slaves and 
 no lion of the tree, but rather a snake that creeps at its roots? Get 
 you gone, my lords, and say that here I bide happy with her whom I have 
 won, and that the ancient sword Wave-Flame, on which Kari has looked 
 of late, is still sharp and the arm that wields it is still strong, and 
 that he will do well now that it has served his turn, to look on it no 
 more," and again I drew the great blade and flashed it before their eyes 
 there in that dusky hall. 
   
 Then, bowing courteously, for every man of them knew me and some of 
 them loved me well, they turned and went. That was the last that ever I, 
 Hubert of Hastings, saw of nobles of the Inca blood, though perchance, 
 ere long, I shall meet them again in war. 
   
 "Let them be escorted safely from the city," commanded Quilla, and 
 soldiers went to do her bidding. 
   
 When they had gone she issued another order, that the door should be 
 closed and watchmen set about the hall, so that none could approach it 
 unseen. Then after a pause she rose and spoke: 
   
 "My Lord," she said, "who soon, as I trust, will be my husband and 
 my king, and you, the chosen of my people, hearken to me for I have a 
 matter to lay before you. You have heard the Inca's message and you know 
 that his words are not vain. He who is great in many ways, in one is 
 small and narrow. He sets his god before his honour, and to satisfy his 
 god, whom he thinks that I have outraged, is prepared to sacrifice his 
 honour, and even to kill one to whom he owes all," and she touched me 
 with her hand. "Moreover, these things he can do, not at once but in 
 time to come, because for every man of ours he is able to gather ten. 
 Therefore we stand thus; death and destruction stare us in the face." 
   
 She paused, and that old chief of whom I have spoken, asked in the midst 
 of a silence, as I think was planned that he should ask: 
   
 "You have set our teeth in the bitter rind of truth. Is there no sweet 
 fruit within? Can you not show us a way of escape, O Quilla, Daughter of 
 the Moon, whose heart is fed with the wisdom of the Moon?" 
   
 "I believe that I can show you such a way," she answered. "You know the 
 legend of our people--that in the old days, a thousand years ago--we 
 came to this country out of the forests. 
   
 "You know, too, the legend tells that once far away, beyond the forest, 
 there was a mighty empire of which the king sat in a City of Gold hidden 
 within a ring of mountains. That king, it is said, had two sons, and 
 when he died these sons made war upon each other, and one of them, my 
 forefather, was defeated and driven away into the forests by those who 
 clung to him. By boats he descended the river that runs through the 
 forest, and at length with those who remained to him came to this land 
 and there once more grew to be a king. Is it not so?" 
   
 "It is so," answered the aged chief. "The tale has come down to me 
 through ten generations, and with it the prophecy that in a day to come 
 the Chancas would return to that City of Gold whence they came and be 
 welcomed of its people." 
   
 "I have heard that prophecy," said Quilla. "Moreover, of it I have 
 something to tell you. While I sat in despair and blindness in the 
 Convent of the Sun at Cuzco it came into my mind and I brooded upon 
 it much, who was always sure that the war between the Chancas and the 
 armies of the Incas was but begun. In my darkness I prayed to my Mother, 
 the Moon, for light and help. Long and often I prayed, and at length an 
 answer came. One night the Spirit of the Moon appeared to my soul as a 
 beautiful and shining goddess, and spoke to me. 
   
 "'Be brave, Daughter,' she said, 'for all that seems to be lost shall 
 yet be found again, and the light of a certain flashing sword shall 
 pierce the blackness and give back vision to your eyes.' This, indeed, 
 happened, my people, since it was when the sword of my Lord saved me 
 from death at the hands of Urco that the first gleam of light returned 
 to my darkened eyes. 
   
 "'Be not afraid, moreover, for the Children of the Chancas who bow to 
 me,' went on the shining Spirit of the Moon, 'since in the day of their 
 danger I will show them a path towards my place of resting in the west. 
 Yea, I will lead them far from wars and tyrannies back to that ancient 
 city whence they came, and there they shall sleep in peace till all 
 things are accomplished. Moreover, you shall be their ruler during your 
 appointed days, you and another whom I led to you out of the deeps of 
 the sea and showed to you sleeping in my beams.' 
   
 "Thus that Spirit spoke to me, Councillors, though at the time I did not 
 know whether the vision were more than a happy dream. But now I do know 
 that it was no dream, but the truth. 
   
 "For did not my sight begin to return to me in the flashing of the sword 
 that is named Flame-of-the-Wave? And if this were true, why should not 
 the rest be true also? People of the Chancas, I am your Queen to-day and 
 my counsel to you is that we flee from this land before the Inca's net 
 closes round us and the Inca's spears pierce our heart, to seek our 
 ancient home far in the depths of the western forest where, as I trust, 
 his armies cannot come. Is that your will, O my People? If so, by the 
 tongues of your Lords and Captains declare it here and now before it be 
 too late." 
   
 Back thundered the answer: 
   
 "It is our will, O Daughter of the Moon!" 
   
 When its echoes had died away Quilla turned to me, lovely to look on as 
 the evening star and with eyes that shone like stars, and asked: 
   
 "Is it your will also, O Lord-from-the-Sea?" 
   
 "Your will is my will, Quilla," I answered, "and your heart is my home. 
 Lead on; where you go I follow, even to the edge of the world and beyond 
 the world." 
   
 "So be it!" she cried in a triumphant voice. "Now the evil past 
 is finished with its fears and battles and before our feet, lit by 
 moonbeams, stretches the Future's shining road leading us to the mystery 
 in which all roads begin and for an hour are lost again. Now, too, our 
 separations end in a perfect unity that perchance we have known before 
 and shall know again in ages to be born and lands revisited. Now, 
 Lord-from-the-Sea, at whose coming my sleeping heart awoke to love and 
 whose sword saved me from shame and death, giving me back to life and 
 light, here, before this company of our people, I, the Daughter of the 
 Moon, defying the Sun who held me captive, and all his servants, take 
 you to husband with this kiss," and leaning forward Quilla pressed her 
 lips upon my own. . . . 
   
   
      The remaining parchment sheets of the ancient Manuscript are 
      rotted with the damp of the tomb in which it lay for centuries 
      and quite undecipherable. 
      Editor. 
 
 
 Publication Date: April 25th 2014 https://www.bookrix.com/-co4c755f3957535