his armies. But to-day I know that the
prophet who foretold this thing was a false prophet, and that the hidden
treasure will never be needed for the accomplishment of the purpose for
which it was gathered; also I am the last of those who knew the secret
of the hiding-place, and if I pass away, taking the secret with me, the
treasure will be lost, wasted, useless, remaining for ever undiscovered.

"Therefore hearken now unto me, O ye who have been to me as sons in
these the last days of mine old age. When my spirit leaves this
withered shell, as it is about to do, ye shall build a funeral pyre, lay
my body thereon, and put fire thereto; for by fire are all things
purified, and on the wings of the flames shall my spirit mount and soar
away to those Happy Isles where is neither sin, nor sorrow, nor
suffering, nor any other evil thing. This shall ye do to-night. And
with the rising of to-morrow's sun ye shall resume your journey down the
river, and so continue for, it may be, twelve days, until this river
flows into a much mightier one. Then ye shall journey up that mightier
stream--which flows to the south and west--and, turning neither to the
right hand nor to the left, shall follow it to its source beyond Cuzco,
until ye sight Sorata's mighty snow-clad crest. And there, under
Sorata's morning shadow shall ye find the Sacred Lake. There are
islands in that lake: that which lies in the centre of the lake is the
island which ye must seek, for on it stands the ruined temple of the
Sun, beneath the great marble floor of which lies--lies--the--Yea, great
Lord and Father, I come!"

And, sinking back among the branches of the bush which supported him,
Vilcamapata, the one-time priest of the Sun, closed his eyes as a
torrent of blood gushed from his mouth, and quietly passed away.

"Internal haemorrhage!" exclaimed Stukely, as he lightly laid his
fingers upon the pulseless wrist. "I feared it. Yes"--as he passed his
hand over the body--"three of his ribs are broken, and the jagged ends
have doubtless lacerated some internal organ--the lung, perhaps. Well,
he is dead, beyond all question; and now, all that remains for us to do,
Dick, is to dispose of his body in accordance with his instructions.
But I do not altogether like the idea of building his pyre just here.
We must see if we cannot find a suitable spot about a quarter of a mile
away."

"I know a perfectly suitable spot about that distance from here,"
answered