as, and there is no man in
Pachatupec of equal rank with yourself."

"Once there was not, but now there is."

I breathed again; she surely could not mean me.

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

I said that I had not the slightest idea.

"Yourself, senor; you are the man."

"Impossible, Mamcuna! I am of very inferior rank, indeed--a common
soldier, a mere nobody."

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

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

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

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

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

"But suppose I am married already--that I have left a wife in my own
country?" I urged in desperation.

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

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

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

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

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