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