s of which were so
cunningly "scarphed", or fitted together, that the joints were invisible
and gripped each other so tightly that neither cement nor bolts were
needed to complete the union. And in the centre of each panel of the
ceiling, and at each crossing of the beams, was a great golden ornament
bearing some resemblance to a full-blown rose. The western wall of the
building was decorated like the two side walls, save that in place of
the bare marble a silver square alternated with a gold one. And,
finally, the great doors in the western wall were of solid silver
wrought to represent timber, the grain and knots of the wood being
imitated with marvellous fidelity, while the nails were represented in
gold.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

THE DAUGHTER OF UMU.

Piloted by Motahuana, Harry presently found himself installed in a
marble throne raised on a dais at the western extremity of the building,
behind the altars--of which there were three--and facing them and the
vast assembly. Immediately on the other side of the altars, and facing
them, were the nobles, also occupying marble seats; and a brave show
they made in their gala attire, Umu, the captain of the royal bodyguard,
in his gorgeous uniform, being a very conspicuous figure among them.
And behind the nobles, seated on wooden benches, was the people ranged
row after row, until, so vast was the building, the features of those
seated near the eastern wall were quite indistinguishable to the young
Inca.

The slight stir in that immense assemblage caused by the entrance of the
monarch and his train of nobles had scarcely subsided when the strains
of distant music were heard, rapidly increasing in power and volume as
the musicians drew near; and presently, through an archway immediately
opposite that by which Escombe had entered, there filed a small army of
priests led by Tiahuana, still in his robes and bearing his wand. Some
sixty of these were performing on a variety of wind and string
instruments more or less remotely suggestive of those known to civilised
nations, while the remainder chanted to their accompaniment a quaint but
by no means unpleasing melody, the air of which was quite distinctly
suggestive of rejoicing. The words of the song--or hymn, rather--were
Quichua, and Escombe was therefore unable to gather the sense of them.
In the midst of the priests walked a band of some twenty youths attired
in richly embroidered white tunics of soft woollen materi