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THE SUN
GASTON
LEROUX


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ECCLESIE
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Harvard College Library
PRUM
By Exchange








THE BRIDE OF THE SUN





The Bride of the Sun
BY
GASTON LEROUX
Author of “The Mystery of the Yellow Room,” “The
Perfume of the Lady in Black," etc.
NEW YORK
McBRIDE, NAST & COMPANY
1915


4:37,
Betrard College Library
June 28, 1916
By exchange
Copyright, 1915, by
McBRIDE, NAST & Co.
Published January, 1915


CONTENTS
BOOK I
THE GOLDEN SUN BRACELET
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THE LIVING PAST
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BOOK III
THE TRAIL OF THE PONCHOS
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BOOK I
THE GOLDEN SUN BRACELET


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
As the liner steamed into Callao Roads, and long
before it had anchored, it was surrounded by a
flotilla of small boats. A moment later, deck,
saloons and cabins were invaded by a host of
gesticulating and strong-minded boatmen, whose
badges attested that they were duly licensed to
carry off what passengers and luggage they
could. They raged impotently, however, round
Francis Montgomery, F.R.S., who sat enthroned
on a pile of securely locked boxes in which were
stored his cherished manuscripts and books.
It was in vain that they told him it would be
two full hours before the ship came alongside
the Darsena dock. Nothing would part him
from his treasures, nothing induce him to allow
these half-crazed foreigners to hurl his precious
luggage overside into those frail-looking skiffs.
When this was suggested to him by a tall
young man who called him uncle, the irascible
scientist explained with fluency and point that
the idea was an utterly ridiculous one. So Dick


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
Montgomery shrugged his broad shoulders, and
with a “See you presently," that hardly inter-
rupted his uncle's flow of words, beckoned to a
boatman.
A moment later he had left the ship's side and
was nearing the shore - the Eldorado of his
young ambition, the land of gold and legends,
the Peru of Pizarro and the Incas. Then the
thought of a young girl's face blotted out those
dreams to make way for new ones.
The monotonous outline of the waterfront
brought no disappointment. Little did he care
that the city stretched out there before his eyes
was little more than a narrow, unbeautiful blur
along the sea coast, that there were none of
those towers, steeples or minarets with which
our ancient ports beckon out to sea that the trav-
eler is welcome. Even when his boat had
passed the Mole, and they drew level with the
modern works of the Muelle Darsena, well cal-
culated to excite the interest of a younger engi-
neer, he remained indifferent.
He had asked the boatman where the Calle de
Lima lay, and his eyes hardly left the part of
the city which had been pointed out to him in
reply. At the landing stage he threw a hand-
full of centavos to his man, and shouldered his
way through the press of guides, interpreters,
hotel touts and other waterside parasites.


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
3
Soon he was before the Calle de Lima, a thor-
oughfare which seemed to be the boundary line
between the old city and the new. Above, to the
east, was the business section — streets broad
or narrow fronted with big, modern buildings
that were the homes of English, French, Ger-
man, Italian and Spanish firms without number.
Below, to the west, a network of tortuous rows
and alleys, full of color, with colonnades and
verandahs encroaching on every available space.
Dick plunged into this labyrinth, shouldered
by muscular Chinamen carrying huge loads, and
by lazy Indians. Here and there was to be seen a
sailor leaving or entering one of the many cafés
which opened their doors into the cool bustle of
the narrow streets. Though it was his first
visit to Callao, the young man hardly hesitated
in his way. Then he stopped short against a
decrepit old wall close to a verandah from which
came the sound of a fresh young voice, young but
very assured.
“Just as you like, señor," it said in Spanish.
“But at that price your fertilizer can only be of
an inferior quality.”
For a few minutes the argument went on
within. Then there was an exchange of courte-
ous farewells and a door was closed. Dick ap-
proached the balcony and looked into the room.
Seated before an enormous ledger was a young


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
girl, busily engaged in transcribing figures into
a little note-book attached by a gold chain to the
daintiest of waists. Her face, a strikingly beau-
tiful one, was a little set under its crown of
coal-black hair as she bent over her task. It was
not the head of a languorous Southern belle -
rather the curls of Carmen helmeting a blue
eyed Minerva, a little goddess of reason of to-
day and a thorough business-woman. At last
she lifted her head.
“ Maria-Teresa? ..."
“ Dick!"
The heavy green ledger slipped and crashed
to the floor, as she ran toward him both hands
outstretched.
“Well, and how is business?”
“So, so. .. . And how are you? ... But we
did not expect you till to-morrow.”
“We made rather a good passage.?!
“And how is May?"
“ She's a very grown-up person now. I sup-
pose you've heard? Her second baby was born
just before we left.”
" And dear smoky old London?"
“ It was raining hard when last I saw it.”
“But where is your uncle?"
“ Still on board. He won't leave his collec-
tion. . . . Does nothing all day but take notes
for his next book. ... Wait a minute, I'll come


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
5
in. Where's the door? I suppose it would be
bad form to climb in through the window?
Won't I be in the way, though? You seem aw-
fully busy."
“I am, but you may come in. Round the cor-
ner there, and the first door on your right.”
He followed her indications and found an arch-
way leading into a huge courtyard crowded with
Chinese coolies and Quichua Indians. A huge
dray, coming from the direction of the harbor,
rumbled under the archway, and wheeled in the
court to let an empty one pass out. People and
things seemed to unite in making as much dust
and noise as possible.
“So she manages all this,” he reflected as he
made his way toward a door at which she had
appeared.
“ You may kiss me,” she said as she closed the
door behind them.
He took her in his arms and held her to him, by
far the more troubled of the two. Again it was
she who spoke first.
“So you really have not forgotten?”
“ Could you believe it, dear?”
“ Well, you were so long in coming."
“But I wrote, and ..."
“ Well, never mind now. It is not too late.
I have just refused my fourth suitor, Don Alonso
de Cuelar. And father, I think, is furious with


6
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
me for refusing the most eligible young man in
Lima. . . . Well, why don't you say some-
thing?"
“Forgive me, dear. ... How is your father?
and the kiddies? ... I hardly know what I am
saying, I am so glad.”
“Father is very well, and very glad to hear
that you were coming. To tell the truth though,
he is far more interested in your uncle's visit.
He has arranged a meeting at the Geographical
Society for him. And for the past month he has
been thinking and talking of nothing but archæ-
ology. They have been digging up all sorts of
things.”
“And so he has been angry with you?”
“ He seems to think he has every reason to be.
I am twenty-three and he already sees me an old
maid. ... It's awfully funny! Do you know
what they call me in Lima now? The Virgin of
the Sun!”
6 What does that mean?”
“Aunt Agnes and Aunt Irene will explain bet-
ter than I can. It's something like one of the
Vestals — an old Inca legend.”
“H’m, some superstitious rot. ... But look
here, Maria Teresa, I'm an awful coward. Do
you think your father ..."
“Of course! He'll do anything I like if he is
asked at the right moment. We'll be married in


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
7
three months' time from San Domingo. Truly
we will!”
“ You dear! ... But I'm only a poor devil of
an engineer, and he may not think me much of a
son-in-law for the Marquis de la Torre.”
“Nonsense, you're clever, and I make you a
gift of the whole of Peru. There's plenty to do
there for an engineer.”
“I can hardly believe my luck, Maria-Teresa !
That I—I.... But, tell me, how did it all
happen?”
“ The old, old way. First you are neighbors,
or meet by accident. Then you are friends ...
just friends, nothing else. . . . And then ...?"
Their hands joined, and they remained thus for
a moment, in silence.
Suddenly, a burst of noise came from the court-
yard, and a moment later a hurried knock an-
nounced the entrance of an excited employee. At
the sight of the stranger, he stopped short, but
Maria-Teresa told him to speak. Dick, who
both understood and spoke Spanish well, lis-
tened.
“ The Indians are back from the Islands,
señorita. There has been trouble between them
and the Chinamen. One coolie was killed and
three were badly wounded.”
Maria-Teresa showed no outward sign of
emotion. Her voice hardened as she asked :


8
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
“ Where did it happen ... in the Northern
Islands?”
“No, at Chincha."
“ Then Huascar was there?”
“ Yes, señorita. He came back with them,
and is outside."
* Send him in to me.”


II
The man went out, signing as he went to a stal-
wart Indian who walked quietly into the office.
Maria Teresa, back at her desk, hardly raised
her eyes. The newcomer, who took off his
straw sombrero with a sweep worthy of a
hidalgo of Castille, was a Trigullo Indian.
These are perhaps the finest tribe of their race
and claim descent from Manco-Capac, first king
of the Incas. A mass of black hair, falling
nearly to his shoulders, framed a profile which
might have been copied from a bronze medallion.
His eyes, strangely soft as he looked at the
young girl before him, provoked immediate an-
tagonism from Dick. He was wrapped in a
bright-colored poncho, and a heavy sheath-knife
hung from his belt.
“ Tell me how it happened,” ordered Maria-
Teresa without returning the Indian's salute.
Under his rigid demeanor, it was evident that
he resented this tone before a stranger. Then
he began to speak in Quichua, only to be inter-
rupted and told to use Spanish. The Indian
frowned and glanced haughtily at the listening
engineer.


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
11
spoke rapidly in Quichua, his eyes flaming.
Then, throwing his poncho over his shoulder, he
went out..
Maria-Teresa sat silent for a while, toying
with her pencil.
“ What did he say?" asked Dick.
" That he was going, and that I should never
see him again.”
“ He looked furious.”
“Oh, he is not dangerous. It is a way they
hape. He says he did everything he could to
prevent the trouble. . . . He is a good man him-
self, but his gang are hopeless. You have no
idea what a nuisance these Indians are. Proud
as Lucifer, and as lazy as drones. ... I shall
never employ another one.”
“ Wouldn't that make trouble?”
“ It might! But what else can I do? I can't
have all my coolies killed off like that.”
“ And what of Huascar?”
“ He will do as he pleases. . . . He was
brought up in the place, and was devoted to my
mother."
“ It must be hard for him to leave.”
“I suppose so.”
“And you wouldn't do anything to keep
him?"
“No.... Goodness, we are forgetting all
about your uncle!” She rang, and a man came


12
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
in. “ Order the motor. . . . By the way, what
are the Indians doing?”
« They've left with Huascar.”
“ All of them?”
“ Yes, señorita.”
“ Without saying a word?”.
“ Not a word, señorita.”
« Who paid them off?”
“ They refused to take any money. Huascar
ordered them to."
“And what of the Island coolies ? "
“ They have not been near the place."
“ But the dead man ... and the wounded?"
“ The Chinamen take them back to their own
quarters."
“Funny people. ... Tell them to bring the
motor round.”
While speaking she had put on a bonnet, and
now drew on her gloves.
“I shall drive,” she said to the liveried negro
boy who brought round the car.
: As they shot toward the Muelle Darsena,
Dick admired the coolness with which she took
the machine through the twisting streets. The
boy, crouching at their feet, was evidently used
to the speed, and showed no terror as they
grazed walls and corners.
“Do you do a great deal of motoring out
here? »


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
13
“ No, not very much. The roads are too bad.
I always use this to get from Callao to Lima,
and there are one or two runs to the seaside, to
places like Ancon or Carillos — just a minute,
Dick."
She stopped the car, and waved her hand to a
curly gray head which had appeared at a win-
dow, between two flower pots. This head re.
appeared at a low door, on the shoulders of a
gallant old gentleman in sumptuous uniform.
Maria-Teresa jumped out of the motor, ex-
changed a few sentences with him, and then re-
joined Dick again.
“ That was the Chief of Police,” she explained.
“I told him about that affair. There will be
no trouble unless the Chinamen take legal pro-
ceedings, which is not likely.”
They reached the steamers' landing stage in
time. The tugs had only just brought alongside
the Pacific Steam Navigation Company's liner,
on board which Uncle Francis was still taking
notes:- “On entering the port of Callao, one
is struck, etc., etc.” He lost precious material
by not being with Maria-Teresa as she enthusi-
astically described “her harbor" to Dick. ...
Sixty millions spent in improvements ... 50,-
000 square meters of docks. ... How she loved
it all for its commercial bustle, for its constant
coming and going of ships, for its intense life,


14
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
MET
and all it meant - the riches that would flow
through it after the opening of the Panama
Canal ... the renascence of Peru. . . . Chili
conquered and Santiago crushed ... the defeat
of 1878 avenged ... and San Francisco yonder
had best look to itself!
Dick, listening to the girl at his side, was
amazed to hear her give figures with as much
authority as an engineer, estimate profits as
surely as a shipowner. What a splendid little
brain it was, and how much better than that
imaginative, dreaming type which he deplored
both in men and women, a type exemplified by
his uncle with all his chimeric hypotheses.
“It would all be so splendid,” she added,
frowning, “ if we only stopped making fools of
ourselves. But we are always doing it.”
“In what way?"
“ With our revolutions ! ”
They were now standing on the quay, while
the liner gradually swung in.
“Oh, are they at it here as well? We found
one on in Venezuela, and then another at Guay-
aquil. The city was under martial law, and
some general or other who had been in power
for about forty-eight hours was preparing to
march on Quito and wipe out the govern-
ment.”
“ Yes, it is like an epidemic,” went on the


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
15
young girl, “ an epidemic which is sweeping the
Andes just now. The news from Boloisa is
worrying me, too. Things are bad round Lake
Titicaca."
“ Not really! That's a nuisance ... not a
cheerful outlook for my business in the Cuzco."
Dick was evidently put out by the news.
“I had not intended telling you about it until
to-morrow. You must not think of unpleasant
things to-day ... all that district is in the
hands of Garcia's men now.”
“Who is Garcia?”
“Oh, one of my old suitors."
“ Has everybody in the country been in love
with you, Maria-Teresa ?”
“Well, I had the attraction of having been
brought up abroad ... at the first presidential
ball I went to after mother's death there was no
getting rid of them. ... Garcia was there.
And now he has raised the revolt among the
Arequipa and Cuzco Indians. . . . He wants
Vointemilla's place as president."
“I suppose they have sent troops against
them?"
“Oh, yes, the two armies are out there ...
but, of course, they are not fighting."
" Why?"
“ Because of the festival of the Interaymi.”
“And what on earth is that?”


16
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
“ The Festival of the Sun. . . . You see,
three quarters of the troops on both sides are
Indian. ... So, of course, they get drunk to-
gether during the fêtes. . . . In the end, Garcia
will be driven over the Boloisan border, but in
the meantime he is playing the very mischief
with fertilizer rates."
She turned toward the liner again, and, catch-
ing sight of Uncle Francis, raised her hand in
reply to the frantic waving of a notebook.
“ How are you, Mr. Montgomery?" she cried.
“ Did you enjoy the crossing?”
The gangways were run out, and they went
on board.
Mr. Montgomery's first question was the same
as had been his nephew's.
“Well, and how is business? ".
For all those who knew her in Europe had
marveled at the change which had come over the
“ little girl” at her mother's death, and her sud-
den determination to return to Peru and herself
take charge of the family's fertilizer business
and concessions. She had also been influenced
in this decision by the fact that there were her
little brother and sister, Isabella and Christobal,
who needed her care. And finally there was her
father, perhaps the greatest child of the three,
who had always royally spent the money which
his wife's business brought in.


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
17
Maria-Teresa's mother, the daughter of a big
Liverpool shipowner, met the handsome Marquis
de la Torre one summer when he was an attaché
at the Peruvian legation in London. The fol.
lowing winter she went back to Peru with him.
Inheriting a great deal of her father's business
acumen, she made a great success of a guano
concession which her husband had hitherto left
unexploited.
At first the marquis protested vigorously
that the wife of Christobal de la Torre should
not work, but when he found that he could draw
almost to any extent on an ever-replenishing ex-
chequer, he forgave her for making him so
wealthy. Yet on his wife's death did he find it
surprising that Maria-Teresa should have in-
herited her abilities, and allowed the daughter
to take over all the duties which had been the
mother's.
“And where is your father, my dear?” asked
Uncle Francis, still with a wary eye on his lug-
gage.
“He did not expect to see you until to-mor-
row. They are going to give you such a recep-
tion! The whole Geographical Society is turn-
ing out in your honor.”
When his luggage had been taken to the sta-
tion, and he had personally supervised its regis-
tration for Lima, Uncle Francis at last consented


18
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
to take a seat in the motor, and Maria-Teresa
put on full speed, for she wished to reach home
before the early tropical nightfall.
After passing a line of adobe houses and a few
comfortable villas, they came to a long stretch
of marshy ground, overgrown with reeds and
willows, and spotted with clumps of banana
trees and tamarisks, with here and there an
eucalyptus or an araucaria pine. The whole
countryside was burnt yellow by the sun, by a
drought hardly ever relieved by a drop of rain,
and which makes the campo round Lima and
Callao anything but enchanting. A little fur.
ther along they passed some scattered bamboo
and adobe huts.
This parched landscape would have been in-
finitely desolate had it not been relieved at in-
tervals by the luxuriant growth surrounding
some hacienda — sugar-cane, maize and rice
plantations, making a brilliant green oasis round
the white farm buildings. The badly-built clay
roads which crossed the highway were peopled
by droves of cattle, heavy carts, and flocks of
sheep which mounted shepherds were bringing
back to the farms. And all this animation
formed a strange contrast to the arid aspect of
the surrounding country. In spite of the jolt-
ing shaking of the car over a poorly kept road,
Uncle Francis kept taking notes, and even more


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
19
notes. Soon, with the lower spurs of the Cor-
dilleras, they saw on the horizon the spires and
domes which make Lima look almost like a Mus-
sulman city.
They were now running alongside the Rimac,
a stream infested by crayfish. Negro fisher-
men were to be seen every few yards dragging
behind them in the water sacks attached to their
belts, and in which they threw their catch to
keep it alive. Turning to comment on them,
Dick noticed Maria-Teresa's preoccupied air,
and asked her the cause.
“It is very strange,” she said, “ we have not
met a single Indian.”
The motor was almost in Lima now, having
reached the famous Ciudad de los Reyes, the
City of Kings founded by the Conquistador.
Maria-Teresa, who loved her Lima, and wished
to show it off, made a detour, swerying from the
road and running a short distance along the
stony bed of dried-up Rimac, careless of the
risk to her tires.
Certainly the picturesque corner to which she
brought them was worth the detour. The walls
of the houses could hardly be seen, overgrown,
as it were, with wooden galleries and balconies.
Some of them were for all the world like finely
carved boxes, adorned with a hundred ara-
besques — little rooms suspended in mid-air, with


20
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
0
mysterious bars and trellised shutters, and
strongly reminiscent of Peru or Bagdad. Only
here it was not rare to see women's faces half
hidden in the shadows, though in no way hiding.
For the ladies of Lima are famed for their
beauty and coquetry. They were to be seen
here in the streets, wearing the manta, that fine
black shawl which is wrapped round the head
and shoulders and which no woman in South
America uses with so much grace as the girl of
Lima. Like the haik of the Mor, the manta
hides all but two great dark eyes, but its wearer
can, when she wishes, throw it aside just enough
to give a sweet glimpse of harmonious features
and a complexion made even more white by the
provoking shadow of the veil. Dick had this
amply proved to him, and seemed so interested
that Maria-Teresa began to scold.
“They are far too attractive in those man.
tas," she said. “I shall show you some Euro-
peans now.”
She turned the car up an adjoining street,
which brought them to the new city, to broad
roads and avenues opening up splendid vistas
of the distant Andes. They crossed the Paseo
Amancaes, which is the heart of the Mayfair of
Lima, and Maria-Teresa several times exchanged
bows with friends and acquaintances. Here the
black manta was replaced by Paris hats over-


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
21
dressed from the rue de la Paix, for its discreet
shadow is too discreet to be correct at nightfall.
It was the hour at which all fashionable Lima
was driving or walking, or gossiping in the tea-
rooms, where one loiters happily over helados in
an atmosphere of chiffons, flirting and politics.
When they reached the Plaza Mayor, the first
stars had risen on the horizon. The crowd was
dense, and carriages advanced only at a walking
pace. Women dressed as for the ball, with
flowers in their dark curls, passed in open car-
riages. Young men grouped round a fountain
in the center of the square, raised their hats and
smiled into passing victorias.
“It really is strange," murmured Maria-
Teresa, “not an Indian in sight!”
“Do they generally come to this part of the
city, then?"
“ Yes, there are always some who come to
watch the people come past. ..."
Standing in front of a café was a group of
half-breeds, talking politics. One could dis-
tinctly hear the names of Garcia and Vointe-
milla, the president, neither of them treated over
gently. One of the group, evidently a shop-
keeper, was moaning his fears of a return to the
era of pronunciamentos.
The car turned at the corner of the cathedral,
and entered a rather narrow street. Seeing the


22
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
way clear, Maria Teresa put on speed only to
pull up sharply a second later, just in time to
avoid running down a man wrapped in a poncho,
who stood motionless in the middle of the street.
Both young people recognized him.
“Huascar!” exclaimed Maria-Teresa.
“Huascar, señorita, who begs you to take
another road.”
" The road is free to all, Huascar. Stand
aside.”
“Huascar has nothing more to say to the
señorita. To pass, she must pass over Huascar.”
Dick half rose in his seat, as if to intervene,
but Maria Teresa put a hand on his sleeve.
“ You behave very strangely, Huascar," she
said. “Why are there no Indians in the town
to-day?"
“Huascar's brethren do as they please, they
are free men.”
She shrugged her shoulders, thought a mo-
ment, and began to turn the car round.
Before starting again, however, she spoke to.
the Indian, who had not moved.
“ Are you always my friend, Huascar?"
For an answer, the Indian slowly raised his
sombrero, and looked up to the early stars, as
if calling them to witness. With a brief
“ Adios !” Maria-Teresa drove on.
When the motor stopped again, it was before


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
23
a big house, the door-keeper of which rushed out
to help his young mistress to alight. He was
forestalled, however, by the Marquis de la Torre
himself, who had just driven up, and who greeted
the two Montgomerys with delight. “Enter,
señor. This house is yours," he said grandly to
Uncle Francis.
The Marquis was a slim little gentleman of
excessive smartness, dressed almost like a
young man. When he moved and he was hardly
ever still, he seemed to radiate brilliancy: from
his eyes, his clothes, his jewels. But for all
that, he was never undignified, and kept his
grand manner without losing his vivacity in cir.
cumstances when others would have had to arm
themselves with severity. Outside his club and
the study of geographical questions he cared
for nothing so much as romping with his son
Christobal, a sturdy youngster of seven. At
times one might have taken them for playmates
on a holiday from the same school, filling the
house with their noise, while little Isabella, who
was nearly six, and loved ceremony, scolded
them pompously, after the manner of an In-
fanta.


III
The Marquis de la Torre's residence was half
modern, half historical, with here and there
quaint old-fashioned rooms and corners. Don
Christobal was something of a collector, and had
adorned his home with ancient paneling, carved
galleries several centuries old, rude furniture
dating back to before the conquest, faded tap-
estry — all so many relics of the various towns
of old Peru which his ancestors had first sacked
and then peopled. And each object recalled
some anecdote or story which the host detailed
at length to all willing listeners.
It was in one of these historical corners that
Mr. Montgomery and his nephew were presented
to two old ladies - two Velasquez canvases
brought to life, yet striving to retain all their
pictorial dignity. Attired after a fashion long
since forgotten, Aunt Agnes and her duenna
might almost have been taken for antiques of
Don Christobal's collection: they lived alto-
gether in another age, and their happiest mo-
ments were those passed in telling fear-inspiring
legends. All the tales of old Peru had a home
in this ancient room of theirs, and many an
24


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
25
evening had been whiled away there by these
narratives — the two Christobals, father and
son, and little Infanta Isabella listening in one
corner, while Maria-Teresa, at the other end of
the room, went over her accounts and wrote her
letters in a great splash of yellow lamplight.
Uncle Francis was delighted to meet in real
life two such perfect types of the New Spain of
yore, set in the very frame they needed. They
were great friends at once, and the sayant, taken
to his own room, changed his clothes hurriedly
to be able to rejoin them. At dinner, installed
between the two, he begged for more legends,
more stories. Maria-Teresa, thinking it time to
talk of more serious matters, interrupted by tell-
ing her father of the trouble between the In-
dians and coolies.
When they heard that Maria-Teresa had dis-
charged the Indians, Aunt Agnes shook her head
doubtfully, and Irene openly expressed her dis-
approval. Both agreed that the young girl had
acted imprudently, and particularly so on the
eve of the Interaymi festival. This view was
also taken by the Marquis, whose protest took an
even more active form when he learned that
Huascar had also left. Huascar had always
been a very faithful servant, he argued, and his
brusk departure was strange. Maria-Teresa
explained shortly that for some time past Huas-


26
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
car's manner had displeased her, and that she
had let him know it.
“ That is another matter," said the Marquis.
“But I am no more comfortable about it ...
there is something in the air ... the Indians
are not behaving normally. ... The other day,
in the Plaza Mayor, I heard extraordinary re-
marks being made by some half-breeds to a
couple of Quichua chiefs."
“ Yes, we did not meet a single Indian on the
way from Callao, and I have not seen one in the
city,” said Dick. “Why is that, I wonder?”
“ Because of the festival,” interjected Aunt
Agnes. “They have their secret meetings.
They disappear into the mountains, or some war-
ren of theirs — catacombs like the Early Chris-
tians. One day, the order comes from some cor-
ner of the Andes, and they vanish like shadows,
to reappear a few days later like a swarm of
locusts."
“My sister exaggerates a little," said the Mar-
quis, smiling. “ They are not so very dangerous,
after all."
“ But you yourself are worried, Christobal.
You have just said so.”
“ Only because there might be some riot-
ing. ..."
“Have they got it in them?” asked Mr. Mont-
gomery. “They seem so nerveless. ..."


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
27
“ They are not all like that. . .. Yes, we have
had one or two native rebellions, but it was
never anything very serious."
“How many of them are there in the coun-
try? " put in Dick.
“ About two-thirds of the population," an.
swered Maria-Teresa. “But they are no more
capable of really rebelling than they are of work-
ing properly. It is the Garcia business that has
unsettled them, coming after a long period of
quiet.” She turned to her father. “What does
the President think of it all?”
“He does not seem to worry a great deal.
This Indian unrest recurs every ten years.”
“Why every ten years?" demanded Uncle
Francis.
“ Because of the Sun Festival,” said old Irene.
“ The Quichuas hold it every ten years."
“ Where?” Dick took a sudden interest.
“Nobody knows,” replied Aunt Agnes, in a
curiously strangled voice. « There are sacrifices
... and the ashes of the victims are thrown
into rivers and streams ... to carry away the
sins of the nation, the Indians believe.”
“ That is really very interesting!” exclaimed
Uncle Francis.
“ Some of the sacrifices are human," half
groaned the old lady, dropping her head to her
plate.


28
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
“ Human sacrifices!”
“Oh, Auntie!” laughed Maria-Teresa.
“ Curious,” remarked the savant. “And
there may be some truth in it. I know that they
were customary at the Festival of the Sun among
the Incas. And Prescott makes it clear that the
Quichuas have kept not only the language of
their ancestors, but also many of the ancient
customs.”
“ Yes, but they became Christians when the
Spaniards conquered their country,” suggested
Dick.
“Not that that affects them much,” com-
mented the Marquis. “It gives them two re-
ligions instead of one, and they have mixed up
the rites and beliefs of the two in a most amaz-
ing fashion."
“What do they want to do, then? Re-build
the Empire of the Incas?”
“ They don't know what they want,” replied
Maria-Teresa. “In the days of the Incas, every
living being in the Empire had to work, they
were practically the slaves of the Sons of the
Sun. When that iron discipline was removed,
they gradually learned to do nothing but sleep.
Of course, that meant poverty and misery, which
they attribute, not to their laziness, but to the
fact that they are no longer ruled by the descend-
ants of Mono-Capac! From what Huascar told


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
29
me, they still hope for a return of the old kings."
“And they still go in for human sacrifice?"
asked Dick.
“Of course not! What absolute nonsense!”
Aunt Agnes and Irene both turned to Uncle
Francis.
“Maria-Teresa was brought up abroad, and
does not know. . . . She cannot know. . . . But
she is wrong to laugh at what she calls all
these old stories.' . . . There is plenty of proof,
and we are sure of it. . . . Every ten years —
all great events were decennial among the Incas
- every ten years, the Quichua Indians offer a
bride to the Sun.”
“ A bride to the Sun?" exclaimed Uncle Fran-
cis, half horrified, half incredulous.
“Yes . . . they sacrifice a young girl in one.
of those horrible Inca temples of theirs, where
no stranger has ever gone! ... It is terrible,
but it is true.”
“Really ... it is so difficult to believe. ...
Do you mean to say that they kill her?”
“ They do .. , as a sacrifice to the Sun.”
“But how? By fire?”
“ No, it is even more horrible than that.
Death by fire is only for far more unimportant
ceremonies. At the Interaymi, they wall up
their victim alive. . . . And it is always a
Spanish girl. . . . They kidnap one, as beautiful


30
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
and of as good family as possible. . . . It is
vengeance against the race that destroyed
theirs."
Maria-Teresa was frankly laughing at her
aunt's intense seriousness, only equaled by the
gravity with which Uncle Francis listened. The
savant looked at her smiling face half disap-
provingly, and brought his scientific knowledge
to the defense of the old ladies. Everything
they said corresponded perfectly with what well-
known writers and explorers had been able to
discover about the Virgins of the Sun. There
was no doubt that human sacrifice had been
rife among the Incas, both in honor of the Sun
and for the King himself, many of the victims
going to the altar of their own free will. This
was particularly the case when an Inca died -
it was like Suttee of the East.
“Prescott and Wiener, the greatest authori-
ties on the subject, are agreed," said Uncle
Francis. “ Prescott tells us that at one royal
burial, more than a thousand people, wives,
maids and servants of the Inca, were sacrificed
on his tomb."
Aunt Agnes shuddered, while Irene, bending
her head, made the sign of the Cross.
“All this is very true, my dear sir," said Don
Christobal, carrying on the conversation, “and
I see that our Geographical Society here will be


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
31
able to give you very little that is new to you.
Would it interest you to visit our latest excava-
tions at Ancon to-morrow? There is ample
proof there that Suttee was practised among the
Incas.”
“ What exactly were these Virgins of the
Sun?” asked Dick, turning to his uncle, who,
delighted to be able to show his erudition, at
once launched into an explanation.
“The Virgins of the Sun, or the elected ones,
as they were called, were young girls, vowed to
the service of the divinity. They were taken
from their families as children, and put into
convents where they were placed under the care
of women called mammaconas,– girls who had
grown old in these monasteries. Under the
guidance of these venerable matrons, the virgins
were taught their religious duties, weaving and
embroidery were their chief occupations, and it
was they who made the fine vicuna wool for the
hangings of the temples and the Inca's home and
attire."
“ Yes," said gray-haired Irene, “but their
chief duty was to guard the sacred fire acquired
anew by the temple at each Raymi festival."
“ That is so," replied the savant. “They
lived absolutely alone. From the moment they
entered the home, they were entirely cut off from
their families and friends. The Inca alone, and


32
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
his queen, the Coya, were allowed within the
sacred precincts. The most rigid discipline and
supervision were exercised over them.”
“And woe te the girl who transgressed,"
added Aunt Irene. “By Inca law she was
buried alive, while the town or village from
which she came was razed to the ground and
sown with stones, so that all memory of it
should be lost."
“ You are perfectly right, madam," agreed
Uncle Francis.
“ Sweet country!” Dick exclaimed.
“ What an amazing civilization they must
have possessed,” continued Uncle Francis.
“ The ceremonies of their temples are almost
identical with those of ancient Rome. . . . Little
did Christopher Columbus think, when he saw a
few painted savages, that on the other seaboard,
behind this belt of primitive land and tribes,
there was a whole world with its customs, monu-
ments, laws and conquests. Two empires, sir:
that of the Aztecs in Mexico, that of the Incas
in Peru. And with civilizations rivaling that
of the Mediterranean. It is as if an Eastern
prince, reaching the steppes of Scythia, had
claimed the discovery of Europe, returning to
his States without knowing that Rome existed,
and convinced that the rest of the world was a
howling waste!”


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
33
“ He must have been a bit of a fool,” hazarded
Dick. “A true conqueror guesses there are new
lands to conquer even before he sees them.”
“ Like Pizarro and Cortes !” exclaimed the
Marquis.
“Who came to destroy everything ..." be-
gan Uncle Francis. Fortunately, Don Christo-
bal did not hear him, and he stopped in time.
Maria Teresa, seated opposite the savant, had
trodden on his foot, and he bit his lip, remem-
bering that de la Torre, the Marquis' ancestor,
had been one of Pizarro's “ destroyers.”
Both old ladies, however, had heard, and
opened their eyes at this denunciation of a cause
which to them was that of the true faith against
the infidel. Maria Teresa, anxious to smooth
matters over, quickly brought them back to their
Inca legends.
“ All this is very fine," she said, “but there is
nothing to show that the Indians still sacrifice
human beings."
“How can you say that!” they exclaimed in
chorus.
“Well, has anybody ever had definite proof
of it?"
Aunt Agnes was not to be shaken in her con-
victions.
“When I was a little girl," she declared, “I
had an old nurse who belonged to one of the


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
35
“There we are! ... the old story! I ex-
pected it!” exclaimed the Marquis.
“You might speak seriously! You knew
Amelia de Vargas. ..."
“A charming girl . . . the sweetest smile in
the city! ... That was twenty years ago. ...
How time flies! . . . Yes, she disappeared ...
with a poor cousin."
“I heard the other day that it was a torea-
dor," interjected Maria-Teresa. “They revive
that old story every ten years, at the time of the
Interaymi.”
“She disappeared outside the bull-ring,” ex-
plained Aunt Agnes. “There was a fight in the
crowd, and she was separated from her parents.
Nobody ever saw her again. Afterwards, some
people remembered catching sight of her sur-
rounded by a group of Indians. She died at
their hands, walled up alive.”
“ What a gorgeous imagination crowds have!
But the fact remains that that poor cousin of
hers disappeared about the same time.”
“ So you are pleased to say, Christobal. But
what of Maria Cristina de Orellana?”
“Oh, that was another matter ... a very sad
case. She was out for a walk with her father
round the Cuzco, and went into one of the caves,
never to reappear. She lost her way in the old
subterranean passages, of course. The govern.


36 THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
ment had all the entrances blocked up after
that."
“And since then," commented Aunt Agnes,
“her poor father has been a madman. For the
past ten years, he has haunted the Cuzco ruins,
calling in vain to his daughter. He, at all
events, will not believe that she was not carried
off by the Indians."
“But you yourself say he is mad."
“He lost his reason when he acquired the
certitude that she had perished in their temple.
A few days before she vanished, Maria-Cristina
mysteriously received a very old and very heavy
gold bracelet. That bracelet had a center
plaque representing the sun. ..."
“My dear Agnes, you know that in this coun-
try jewelers stick the sun in wherever and when-
ever they can."
“ That bracelet was the real one ... the same
one that was sent to Amelia.”
“Are you not exaggerating, Agnes ? Really,
really!... And with stories like these running
about, they expect poor historians to be accu-
rate! ... I hope you are not taking notes of all
this, Mr. Montgomery.”
. “I am exaggerating nothing,” retorted Aunt
Agnes obstinately. “It was the real Golden
Sun bracelet. ... Every ten years since Ata-
hualpa, the last Inca king, was burned alive by


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
37
Pizarro, the Inca priests have sent it to a Span-
ish girl they had chosen to be the Bride of the
Sun. And every one of them has been walled
up alive. ... I remember that poor Orellana
girl laughing and joking about the Golden Sun
bracelet! The whole town knew about it."
“The whole town always does have a pretty
lively imagination at the time of the Interaymi,"
insisted the Marquis. He turned to Mr. Mont-
gomery. “You have no idea, my dear sir, how
hard it is for our Society to get away from all
these weird legends.”
“Legends are not things to be despised in re-
search work,” disagreed Uncle Francis. “For
my part, I am delighted to have found a country
where they are still so living.”
At this moment a servant came in with a
small parcel on a silver tray.
“A registered package, señorita,” he said.
“ Will the señorita sign here?”
Maria-Teresa, having signed, was turning the
box over in her fingers.
“ It is from Cajamarca,” she remarked.
“Who from, I wonder? I know nobody there.
... Will you excuse me?"
The young girl cut the string, broke the seals
and opened the little wooden box.
“A bracelet !” she exclaimed, and laughed a
little nervously. “What an extraordinary coin.


38
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
cidence! ... Why, it is the Golden Sun brace-
let! It is, really! The bracelet of the Bride of
the Sun!”
Every person in the room had risen, with the
exception of the two old ladies, who sat as if
stunned. All eyes were turned on the heavy
bracelet in darkened old gold, with its sun-
adorned center plaque on which the rays seemed
blurred out by the dust of centuries.
“ Well, that is funny!” laughed Maria-Teresa.
“ Of course!” exclaimed the Marquis, whose
voice had changed a little. “Evidently a joke
by Alonso de Cuelar. You refused him, my
dear, and he has invented rather a pretty re-
venge. His little vengeance on the Bride of the
Sun. ... All the young men of the town call
you that because you refuse to marry. ... Well,
what are we looking so blue about over there?
Surely, Agnes, you are not going to make your-
self ill over a harmless joke like this?”
Maria Teresa was showing the bracelet to
Uncle Francis and Dick.
“Father!” she exclaimed. “I think I shall
keep it! Tell Don Alonso I shall wear it as a
token of friendship. . . . It really is a beauty!
... What do you think of it, Mr. Montgom-
ery? "
“ It seems to me at least three or four hundred
years old.”


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
39
“ Pieces like that are still occasionally found
in excavations round royal tombs, but they are
rare,” said the Marquis. “I am not surprised
Don Alonso had to go to Cajamarca for that
one.”
“ Where is Cajamarca?” asked Dick.
“ Cajamarca," said the savant, horrified at his
nephew's ignorance, “is the Caxamarxa of the
Incas, their second capital in Pizarro's
day. ..."
“And the city where their last king was
burned at the stake!” groaned Aunt Agnes.
They rushed to her side, for she was on the
point of fainting and had to be carried to her
room. The old duenna followed them, as white
as her lace, and crossing herself tremulously.


IV
On the day after his arrival, Uncle Francis was
solemnly and officially received by the Geo-
graphical Society of Lima, the fine archæologi.
cal, statistical and hydrographical work of
which keenly interested him. With so much
scientific enthusiasm did he express himself,
that he conquered all hearts. By far the proud-
est and happiest man present, however, was Don
Christobal, basking in the reflected glory of his
distinguished guest. As they were all leaving
after the ceremony - Maria-Teresa wearing her
bracelet despite the protests of her aunt and the
duenna — the Marquis met Don Alonso de Cue-
lar.
“Why, Cuelar," he exclaimed, “ I thought you
were at Cajamarca!”
Don Alonso opened his eyes in surprise, evi.
dently not understanding
“ Come, come, Cuelar, you may. confess. I
shall not be angry. Both Maria Teresa and I
agree that your little revenge was a very neat
one.”
“My revenge? ..."


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
“Of course! The bracelet!”
“What bracelet?”
At this moment Maria-Teresa and Dick joined
the group. Maria Teresa, seeing her father
laughing as he talked, felt quite sure that the
mystery of the bracelet had already been cleared
up.
“ Thank you ever so much,” she said, holding
out the slim hand adorned by the heavy brace-
let. “You see, I wear it as a token of friend-
ship.”
“But I should never have permitted myself
such a liberty," protested the young man, look-
ing in amazement from one to the other.
“Are you serious? . . . It really was not
you?"
“No!... But what does it all mean? ...
And what a peculiar bracelet.”
“Do you not recognize it?" laughed Maria-
Teresa, still unconvinced. “It is, apparently,
the Golden Sun bracelet which the Indian
priests always send to the Bride of the Sun at
the Interaymi. . . . And as you, I understand,
were the originator of my nickname, I nat-
urally supposed that, in spite of everything you
heard, you bore no malice to the Virgin of the
Sun.”
“What a charming idea! I am only sorry,"
he added, “ that it was not mine. I shall never


42
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
forgive myself for not having thought of it.
You must attribute it, señorita, to one of those
other unfortunates who, like myself, have wor-
shiped in vain. ... There is Pedro Ribera. ...
He looks dark enough to have done it. ...
Ribera!”
But Ribera knew no more of the bracelet than
Don Alonso. He also admired the strange jewel,
and was equally sorry he had not sent it.
Don Christobal was becoming irritated, and
was sorry now that he had mentioned the mat-
ter to them. He could not, without appearing
ridiculous, ask them not to speak of it, and he
knew very well that within two hours every tea-
table in the Plaza Mayor would be discussing
the new topic. Maria-Teresa guessed his
thoughts.
“As our guess was wrong, the whole thing
rather loses point. So we must wait until the
generous donor comes and confesses. In the
meantime, let it be forgotten.” And, slipping
off the bracelet, she put it into her reticule.
“I wonder if it was Huascar," suggested Dick,
as the two young men left them.
“Huascar? Why Huascar?” asked the Mar-
quis.
“Well, it's an old Indian bracelet. ... He's
the only Indian I know of, and I know he is
very devoted to the family. Suppose he found


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
43
the bracelet in some old ruin and didn't know
what to do with it. ..."
“Oh, let us not talk of it any more,” inter-
rupted Maria-Teresa, slightly troubled. “What
does it matter! ... Besides, we are bound to
know, sooner or later. . . . Some day a friend
of father's, back from the Sierra, will ask me
why I am not wearing his present. That is sure
to happen.”
“Of course it is," affirmed Dick.
The Marquis, far from satisfied, and still seek-
ing a possible explanation, suddenly turned on
Dick.
“ You sent it!” he exclaimed, triumphant.
“I? Why, I have only just arrived in the
country. ..."
“But you could very well have bought it
when the liner put in at Guayaquil, and then
sent it to some agent or other at Cajamarca to
have it forwarded here. . . . You must have
read the legend of the bracelet in one of your
uncle's books.”
“Really, Father!” protested Maria-Teresa.
“Mr. Montgomery is an engineer. ..."
“ Yes, yes, I know. Very hard-working. ...
Come here to try experiments with some new
pump to clear the Cuzco gold-mines of water.
... I know all that. . . . But that is no reason
why he should not send you a bracelet.”


44
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
“But why should be, Father?”
“Is there not a reason why he should, my
daughter?”
This time, Maria-Teresa blushed deeply and
Dick tried to look unconcerned, while Don Chris-
tobal smiled at them quizzically.
“ So you thought your old father was blind,
eh? ... You thought he guessed nothing ...
that he did not understand what you had left
behind you in London? ... Well, Dick?”
“Really, sir ...1...1... hardly dared
hope. ..."
“ Didn't you? ... There, there, that's
enough. ... You may put the bracelet on her
arm again. ... Pair of young fools.”
Maria-Teresa slipped her arm through her
father's, and squeezed it.
“ Dear Father!"
Then, turning to Dick and opening her reti-
cule, she whispered rapidly :
“ Say you sent it. What can it matter?”
Dick, completely taken aback, clasped the
bracelet on Maria-Teresa's wrist without pro-
test. He scarcely heard a word said by the Mar-
quis, who was delighted to have solved the mys-
tery.
“Well, young man, you can flatter yourself
that you thoroughly mystified everybody.” And
with that he hurried after Uncle Francis, who


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
45
had been carried off to drink champagne by a
group of admirers.
Dick and Maria-Teresa, left alone, exchanged
looks. A moment later, they were brought to
earth again by the advent of a horde of excited
scientists.
“ But what will your father say when he finds
out who really sent the bracelet?”
“He will forgive you. I only made you tell
the story to reassure him. ... Between you and
me, those old tales told by Aunt Agnes and Irene
were worrying him a little. . . . He is rather a
child in some ways."
Carriages and motors were rapidly filling with
people starting for the excavations outside the
town, and then on by rail to Ancon, where Uncle
Francis was to be shown the latest Inca discov-
eries. The Marquis and Mr. Montgomery
passed them in one motor. Maria-Teresa waved
to them, and walked on towards the town with
Dick.
They were all to meet again that evening to
dine and pass the night at the Marquis' sea-side
villa between Lima and Ancon. Uncle Francis
would thus be able to begin his researches the
very next morning, for Don Christobal's villa,
itself a treasure-house of antiques, stood in the
very center of the excavations.
Meanwhile, the young people, less interested
k.


46
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
in things of death than the members of the Geo-
graphical and Archæological Society, went to
explore Lima. It was only after a long walk in
the Pascos de Amancaes that they in their turn
started by motor over an execrable road.
The approach of night could already be felt,
and the great plain over which they were speed-
ing was made even more desolate by the pres-
ence of the slow-flying gallinazos, or black vul-
tures, overhead. These scavengers, half-starved
in appearance, are the common adjuncts of scen-
ery in Peru, tolerated and even respected, as they
are, by a grateful municipality.
Here and there were haciendas, each with its
group of pastures and grazing horses, kept from
galloping into the surrounding waste by the
four-foot mud walls. Otherwise, it was a sandy
desert, at some points dotted with skeletons of
a long-dead race dug up by curious scientists and
then left to bleach in the sun.
“ Not exactly cheerful,” commented Dick.
Maria-Teresa, intent on her driving, did not
answer, but pointed with one gauntleted hand at
a group of half-breeds playing bowls with hu-
man skulls at the corner of a hacienda.
They were soon in the outskirts of Ancon, and
found the Marquis, Uncle Francis, and their
fellow-scientists busily arguing in the center of
an Inca cemetery. On all sides were opened


48
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
own life. ... Finally, we heard the Indian
workman cry out, 'Aqui esta el muerto.'
(Here is the dead one). .. for to the native
mind, the only body worthy of notice is that of
the master. ... When we cut the thongs and
unrolled the wrappings about him — the man
had evidently been a great chief — we found the
mummy in an extraordinary state of preserva-
tion,– the head was almost intact. . . . Gentle.
men, the ancient Egyptians did no better."
At this moment, excited ones from another
part of the cemetery attracted their attention,
and a workman ran up to tell them that a sen-
sational discovery had been made — the tomb of
three Inca chiefs with strange-shaped skulls.
Dick and Maria-Teresa followed the others to
the spot indicated.
When they reached the newly-discovered tomb,
workmen were passing up to the surface little
sacks full of corn, jars which had once contained
chicha — all the things necessary for a long voy-
age. Then came golden: vases, silver amphora,
goblets, hammered statuettes, jewels:- a veri-
table treasure brought to light by one stroke of
the pick. Finally, the three mummies were
brought to the surface and unrolled with every
precaution. One of the scientists present bent
down to uncover the faces, and there was a mur-
mur of horror from those present.


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
49
To understand what Dick and Maria-Teresa
had been among the first to see, it is necessary
for the reader to know that it was customary
among the Incas to shape living skulls to any
form they wished. This strange custom exists
even in modern days, though in a far lesser de-
gree, among the Basque inhabitants of the
Pyrenees. The skulls of babies, set in vices or
bound into various molds, were gradually de-
formed till they took the shape of a sugar-loaf,
of a squarish box, of an enormous lime, and so
forth. Phrenology was evidently a science
known to the Incas, who, precursors of Gall and
Spezhurn, thus sought to develop abnormally
the intellectual or warlike qualities of a child
by compressing or enlarging such and such a
part of the brain. It has been proved, though,
that this practise was allowed only in the case
of children of the Inca himself, called upon in
afterlife to take high position in the State. The
common people kept their normal skulls and
normal brains.
Of the three heads just brought to light, one
was cuneiform - a monstrous sugar-loaf. It
was horrible to see this nightmare face, like the
head of a beast of the Apocalypse, framed in
locks which seemed to be still living as they
gently moved in the sea breeze. The second
head was flattened out, cap-like, with a huge


50 THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
bump at the back. The third was almost square,
resembling nothing so much as a small va-
lise.
Maria Teresa shrank before this triple hor.
ror and, despite his evident curiosity, drew her
fiancé away from the violated sepulchre. They
strolled down to the beach, where the Pacific
murmured gently as it came to rest on the sands.
So peaceful is the sea at Ancon, so free from
currents and gales, that it has become the great
resort of the inhabitants of Lima. At this sea-
son, however, it was still deserted, so that Dick
and Maria-Teresa met nobody during their walk
to the Marquis' villa.
It was dusk when they reached it, still under
the depressing influence of the three strange
heads, and yainly trying to joke the impression
away. As the sun disappeared on the horizon,
the wind rose and conjured up in the half-light
pale sand-whorls which might have been so many
phantoms dancing up from the huacas to re-
proach them for impiety and sacrilege. Though
they were neither of them over-imaginative, the
young people were glad to see the fat major-
domo who came forward to announce that the
Marquis and Uncle Francis had already arrived.
He, at all events, was solid flesh and blood.
As Maria-Teresa entered the house, a little
Quichua maid, Concha, literally threw herself at


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
51
her mistress' feet, protesting that she had been
dead in the señorita's absence, and had been
brought to life again by her return.
“ See what devotion we get here for eight soles
a month!” she laughed, completely cured of her
fears by the sight of the familiar objects about
her. “Into the bargain, she cooks puchero, our
native stew, to perfection. You must try it
some day.”
“ Señorita," interjected the maid, her broad
lips parting in an enormous smile, “I have pre-
pared locro for to-night.”
Dinner was not a very long meal. Everybody
was tired, and Uncle Francis was anxious to be
up early in the morning. Dick and Maria-
Teresa prosaically enjoyed their locro — a maize
cooked with meat, spiced and served with the
chicha which still further heightens the taste of
all popular dishes in Peru — and, when they
parted at the doors of their rooms on the first
floor, were quite ready to laugh over the inci-
dents of the afternoon. Maria-Teresa's hand
lingered in Dick's.
“ Good night, little Bride of the Sun," he said,
and bending down, kissed the disk on the brace-
let. “But surely you are not going to keep
that thing on? ... A bracelet from the Lord
knows where and the Lord knows whom?”
“ It is dear to me now, Dick. . . . Now that


52
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
you have kissed it, it shall never leave me. ...
Good night.”
She disappeared into her room, and the young
engineer had turned toward his when a shriek
was heard, and Maria-Teresa rushed to the land-
ing, in a panic of fear.
“ They are in there! They are in there!” she
gasped, her teeth chattering.
“What? What? ... what is the matter?"
“ The three living skulls !”
“ Maria-Teresa!”
“I tell you they are! All three of them, star-
ing in through the window!... They looked at
me with such eyes ... horrible, living eyes.
... No, no!... Dick! ... Don't go in!”
Taking the light from her trembling hand,
Dick went into the room. There was nothing
to be seen. He crossed to the balcony, and
threw open the French windows: on one side
was the sea, on the other a panorama over the
flat country and the Inca burial-ground. Every-
thing was perfectly normal.
“ Come, dear. ... You must have imag-
ined. ..."
“ Dick, I tell you I saw them !"
“What did you see?”
“ There, on the balcony, staring through the
panes. ... Those three Inca chiefs with their
hideous heads."


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
53
“ But, Maria Teresa, be reasonable. They are
dead. ... You yourself saw them dug up. ...
Surely you cannot believe in ghosts. ..."
“ Those I saw were not ghosts. They were
living.”
Thinking to reassure her, he began to laugh
heartily.
“Don't, Dick, don't!... I did see them ...
they were exactly like those in the grave ...
the sugar-loaf, the cap, and the valise. ...
Exactly the same! ... But what did they come
here for?”
Don Christobal, drawn from the smoking.
room by the noise, jeered at his daughter's fears.
Uncle Francis, too, appeared in a night-cap,
which started everybody laughing except Maria-
Teresa. To quieten her, the major-domo was
sent round the house and explored the grounds.
He returned to report that he had found noth-
ing.
“You are worried by what you saw this after-
noon, my child,” said the Marquis.
But Maria-Teresa would not reenter the
room, and ordered another on the opposite side
of the villa to be prepared for her. Dick, using
every argument he could think of, finally con-
vinced her that she had been the victim of a
hallucination. Half ashamed of herself, she
made him go out to the first-floor balcony with


54
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
her, trying, in her turn, to efface any unfavor.
able impression she might have made.
The balcony on which they were was almost
directly over the sea, for on this side the beach
reached right up to the walls of the villa. After
a time, the immense peace of the night completed
Dick's work, and the girl was perfectly quiet
when she took off her bracelet.
“I think this is what has been worrying me,”
she said. “I never before imagined that I saw
a ghost. ..." And she threw the bracelet into
the sea.
“A very good place for it," agreed Dick. “A
ring will do ever so much better. You do at all
events know where that comes from.”
Before long the whole house was at rest, and
the remainder of the night passed by quietly.
But at seven o'clock, when people were begin-
ning to stir again, an agonized scream from
Maria-Teresa's room sent the servants rushing
to her aid. When they entered the room, they
found their mistress sitting up in bed, staring
at her wrist with horror-stricken eyes. The
Golden Sun bracelet had returned during the
night!


BOOK II
THE LIVING PAST





DICK was nearly as frightened as Maria-Teresa
when he found what had happened. On the
previous night he himself had seen her throw
the bracelet into the sea, and yet it was there on
her arm again when she woke up. What could
it all mean? He could find nothing to say, and
in spite of himself began to go over the terrible
legend told by the two old ladies. It was pre-
posterous, impossible, but he could not help be.
lieving in it now.
The Marquis and Uncle Francis, brought out
by the noise, joined the others in the young girl's
room. Don Christobal's sharp voice drove the
servants from the room and brought out the
whole story. Dick confessed his duplicity in
the matter of the bracelet, and told how the
jewel had been thrown away.
Maria-Teresa was shaking with fever, and her
father took her in his arms. He was less wor-
ried by the strange story told him than by the
state in which his daughter was. He had al-
ways seen her so calm, so sure of herself, that her
terror shook all his own matter-of-fact convic-
tions.
WOT-
57


60
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
" An excellent idea," agreed Don Christobal.
“ We really must find a solution to that mystery
as well.”
“And whoever the joker is, he will pay for
it,” said Maria-Teresa, who was now toying with
the bracelet. “He laughs best who laughs
last!”
With which she drove them all out of her room
and called for Concha, who, when she came to
dress her mistress, received a masterly box on
the ears to teach her to wake people up next time
she brought back a lost bracelet. Concha, un-
used to such treatment, burst into tears, and
Maria Teresa, ashamed of herself, filled the little
maid's hands with chocolates to make her smile
again. Do what she would, Maria-Teresa could
not regain her calm. Every movement she
made betrayed the inward storm, and she
stamped whenever she thought of the cowardice
she had shown. ...
Broadly speaking, all roads in Peru are little
more than mule-paths. The only exception is
in favor of the great paved highways built by
the Incas, which link the wilds of Bolivia to the
capital of Ecuador, and in comparison with
which the finest monuments of the Gallo-Roman
period are not so very remarkable, after all. It
is for this reason that travelers wishing to reach
the interior must take boat along the coast to


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
61
one of the harbor towns which are the termini
of the railways leading into the ever-delightful
Sierra.
For Peru may be divided into three great par-
allel bands of country. First the Costa, or
coast district, which rises gradually from the
sea-board to an altitude of from 1,500 to 2,000
meters on the western slopes of the Andes. –
Then the Sierra, half mountain and half plateau,
with altitudes varying between 2,000 and 4,000
meters. Finally the Montana, with its forests,
which sweeps down to the east of the Cordil-
leras, stretching toward the Amazon in long
slopes which, from 2,000 meters, gradually drop
to only 500. Landscape, climate and products
are all different in these three zones. The Costa
is rich; the Sierra has smiling valleys and a rela-
tively warm climate; the Montana is a veritable
ocean of verdure.
Perhaps the most curious thing in this curi-
ous country is the variety of its landscape in a
relatively small region, for to reach the Sierra
one is obliged to scale some of the highest moun-
tains in the world, and that in an equatorial
country. In a few hours, one travels through
districts where trees of all latitudes and plants
of all climates grow and are cultivated side by
side. Walnut-trees neighbor with waving
palms; beetroot and sugar-cane grow in adjoin.


62
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
ing plantations; here, an orchard full of splen-
did apples; there a group of banana-trees
spreading their broad leaves to the sun. In this
amazing country, landowners can offer their
guests drinks cooled with ice from the hills just
above and made with sweet limes picked in the
tropical gardens around the house.
Uncle Francis was in raptures, brimful of en-
thusiasm, and so schoolboyish in his delight that
his companions could not help laughing. They
teased the old gentleman constantly, and once
the hiding of his fountain-pen at a moment when
the taking of notes was urgent made him nearly
frantic. All, in short, were in the best of
spirits, and seemed to have completely forgotten
the Golden Sun bracelet. This had been left
in the care of Aunt Agnes and Irene, who imme-
diately took it to the church of San Domingo
and left it as an offering on the altar of the Lady
Chapel.
There was an exciting landing for the trav-
elers at Pacasmayo. They got ashore with the
aid of an enormous raft, rising and falling with
the waves alongside the liner. This raft they
reached by means of a cradle swung out on a
small crane. All one had to do was to wait
until the raft rose to within jumping distance
of the cradle.
· Maria-Teresa led the way, and landed very


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN 63
neatly on her feet; the Marquis, used to such
gymnastics, followed suit; and Dick reached the
raft with his hands still in his pockets. Uncle
Francis, thinking hard of something else, ar-
ranged his own descent so badly that raft and
cradle met with a crash which nearly jerked
him into the sea. The shock was forgotten in
a wave of enthusiasm over the novelty of it all,
and he even retained his equanimity when the
jerk of the grounding raft sent him rolling onto
the wet sand of the beach.
It was not until the following morning that
the party left Pacasmayo, without any untoward
incident to disturb the peace of a journey com-
menced under the most favorable auspices.
Dick was the only one to think twice of the
advent of a coppery-colored gentleman who
seemed to have attached himself to their party.
Had he not worn European dress, the stranger
might well have passed for a typical Trujillo -
that Indian race of which Huascar was certainly
the finest representative. On the other hand,
he wore his lounge suit with ease, and during the
voyage evidenced his civilized upbringing by
rendering to Maria-Teresa several of those little
services which a man may allow himself to do
when traveling, even to a woman he does not
know. The stranger had embarked at Callao,
had landed by the same raft as they, had stopped


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
65
statuesque immobility also had its effect on
them. Then after a moment's silence, he con-
tinued:
“No, we have not forgotten that a Christobal
de la Torre was with Pizarro. We know the
whole story, sir. When Pizarro left the Spanish
colony of Panama, vaguely guessing that before
him was an empire even greater than the one
which Cortes had just given to Charles V.;
when, after a thousand dangers, he saw himself
on the point of being deserted by all, he drew
his sword and with the point drew a line in the
sand, from east to west. Then, turning toward
the south, he said: "Comrades, on this side are
danger, privation, hunger, nakedness, ruin and
death; behind us, comfort and mediocrity. But
to the south are also Peru and its riches, glory
and immortality. Let each one decide for him-
self which is best for a hidalgo of Castille!'
And with those words, he crossed the line. He
was followed by Ruiz, his brave pilot, then by
Pedro de Candia, a knight born, as his name
shows, in one of the Greek islands. Eleven
others crossed that line, ready to follow their
chief to the world's end. And among those
eleven was Juan-Christobal de la Torre. We
know it! Señor, we know it!”
“And, pray, who are you, señor?” demanded
the Marquis brutally, exasperated by the stran.


66
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
ger's manner, though he had in truth remained
studiously polite.
As if not hearing, as if intent on doing hom-
age to the exploits of those dead Conquistadors,
the stranger continued :
“ Is there not, señores, is there not, señorita,
something gigantic in this spectacle? This
little handful of men confidently starting on an
expedition as wild as the wildest deeds of their
knights-errant, a handful of men, señores, with-
out clothes or food, almost without arms, left
by their comrades on a deserted mountain-side
to start on the conquest of one of the most pow-
erful empires ever known.
"And among those men there was a Christo-
bal de la Torre. . . . Señor Don Marques, it is
a glorious descent to claim. ... And allow me
to present myself: your servant Huayna Capac
Runtu, head clerk of the Franco-Belgian Bank
of Lima. . . . But we may fittingly travel in
company, señor, for I am of royal blood.
Huayna Capac, King of the Incas, who succeeded
his father at the age of sixteen, married first
Pillan Huaco, by whom he had no children. He
then took two other wives, Rava-Bello and his
cousin Mama-Runtu. I am the descendant of
that Huayna Capac and that Mama-Runtu!"
“Now on leave from your bank?” queried the
Marquis, almost insolently.


68
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
mentally compared to those of a wild animal,
and added in a slightly lisping voice: “ There
is a lot of nonsense talked. ... Human sacri-
fices, and so forth. . . . Do I look as if I were
going to such a ceremony? ... I and my clothes
by Zarate? . . . No, señorita, just a few little
ceremonies to keep alive the memory of our lost
glories ... a few pious invocations to the God
of Day, a few prayers for poor Atahualpa, our
last King, and that is all. ... At the end of
the month, señorita, I shall be back at my bank
in Lima.”
Reassured by the matter-of-fact level reached
by these words, Dick growled at his own absurd
fears. A smile from Maria-Teresa and a
grumbled comment on kings and bank clerks
from Uncle Francis completely dispelled the
cloud raised by the mention of the Interaymi.
Their train was now traveling along the bed
of a ravine, closed in by dizzying heights. High
up above, in a band of blazing blue sky, giant
condors could be seen winging their way in
heavy circles.
“ To think of Pizarro facing country like
this !” exclaimed Dick. “How on earth was it
that they were not simply wiped out by the
Incas?"
“ They came as friends, señor," answered the
Indian.


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
69
“ That is all very fine, but still does not ex.
plain it. How many men were there with
Pizarro when he marched on Cajamarca?”
“He had received reenforcements," inter-
jected the Marquis, twisting his mustache,
“and there were then a hundred and seventy-
seven of them.”
“ Minus nine,” corrected the Indian.
“ That is, unless I am mistaken, only a hun-
dred and sixty-eight,” put in Uncle Francis, busy
with his note-book.
“Why minus nine?” questioned Maria-
Teresa.
“ Because, señorita,” replied the descendant
of Mama-Runtu, who seemed to know the history
of the conquest of New Spain better than the
descendants of the conquerors themselves, “ be-
cause Pizarro gave his new followers the same
chance to draw back that the others had received.
He had halted in the mountains to rest his band
and make a careful inspection. As you have
said, señor, they were then only a hundred and
seventy-seven, including sixty-seven horse.
There were only three arquebusiers, and a few
crossbowmen - not more than twenty alto.
gether. And with this band Pizarro was march-
ing against an army of 50,000 men and against
a nation of twenty millions! For, under the
Incas, Peru included what are to-day called


70
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
Peru, Ecuador, Bolivia and Chili. At this
point, señores, he decided that his soldiers were
still too many. He had noticed that some faces
were dissatisfied, and, fearing that the discontent
might spread, he decided to cut away the weak
limbs before the gangrene reached the main
body. Marshalling his men, he told them that
they had reached a crisis in their fortunes —
not a man must go on who doubted its ultimate
success. It was still not too late for waverers
to return to San Miguel, where he had already
left some of his companions. He was prepared
to risk all with those who still wished to follow
him. Nine men took advantage of Pizarro's
offer — four infantrymen and five from the cav-
alry. The others stopped with their general."
“And cheered him to the echo at the call of
Christobal de la Torre, who served the Conquis-
tador like a brother!” exclaimed the Marquis.
“We know, we know!” repeated the clerk.
His tone roused the Marquis again.
“And might I ask why you are pleased to re-
call all these things?” demanded Don Christo-
bal haughtily.
“ To prove to you, señor, that the vanquished
know the history of their country even better
than the conquerors," retorted Runtu with an
emphasis not a little ridiculous in a man of his
dress and calling.


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
“ Look! How beautiful!” exclaimed Maria-
Teresa, anxious to divert their attention to the
landscape.
Their train was passing over a bridge from
which a panorama of unparalleled beauty could
be obtained. Before them stretched the giant
chain of the Andes, peak heaped on peak. On
one side, a rent in the ridges opened onto green
forests, broken by little cultivated plateaus,
each with its rustic cottage clinging to the
rugged mountain-side. And there, above, snowy
crests sparkling in the sun — a chaos of savage
magnificence and serene beauty to be found in
no other mountain landscape of the world.
It was almost more terrible than beautiful,
and as the train crossed abyss after abyss over
quivering bridges, Maria-Teresa, clinging to
Dick's arm, could not help murmuring: “And
even this did not daunt Pizarro.”
Unfortunately, she was overheard by the stran-
ger, who took up the broken conversation with
evident hostility:
“ We could have crushed them easily, could
we not?”
The Marquis, turning superciliously, flicked
the questioner's shoulder with his glove:
“ And, pray, why did you not do so, then?”
“ Because we, sir, were not traitors!”
Dick had only just time to stop the Marquis,


72
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
who was on the point of rushing at the insolent
Indian. Maria-Teresa, knowing her father's
pride, calmed him in a moment by urging in an
undertone that it would be ridiculous for a man
of his rank and age to pay more attention to an
Indian bank-clerk.
“ You are quite right,” said Don Christobal
with a gesture of contempt under which the In-
dian stood motionless as a statue. He had not
been without guessing the sense of Maria-Te-
resa's remarks, and might have said more had
not the stopping of the train definitely closed
the incident.
The railway line, then still in course of con-
struction, went no farther. The remaining
thirty miles to Cajamarca had to be covered on
mule-back, for they were still in the heart of the
mountains, and the defiles were steep.
It was too long a journey, however, for the
tired travelers to undertake until the following
morning. Clinging to the flanks of the rocks
were a few rude sheds in which were lodged the
men working on the line. Near by, surrounding
a canteen, stood a dozen fairly comfortable tents,
in which they themselves were to pass the night.
In a meager pasture just beyond, some thirty
mules wandered at liberty, grazing. Above, the
omnipresent galinagas flew in circles against a
purple sky.


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
73
Dinner, served on the brink of a chasm from
which rose the mutter of the racing stream, was
à gay meal. Runtu had vanished, and did not
reappear until after nightfall, when Maria-
Teresa met him near her tent. He was very
apologetic, and, hat in hand, excused himself
for the incident in the train. He had had no
intention of being rude, and knowing that the
Marquis was a great friend of the manager of the
Franco-Belgian bank, he hoped that he would
not carry the matter further.
Maria-Teresa, conquering a strong desire to
laugh, promised the descendant of the Incas
that he would not lose his clerkship through
them. When he had bowed himself out of sight,
she carried the story to her father and Dick,
who were vastly amused. Then they all went
to bed, with the exception of Uncle Francis, who
passed the greater part of the night putting his
notes in order and writing an article for a
reverend monthly in which he re-told the story
of the conquest of Peru, with the aid of the Last
of the Incas. This Indian he sketched as a
gloriously picturesque character, carefully omit-
ting to say that he wore European clothes!
As every night since the appearance of the
three strange heads on her balcony Maria.
Teresa found sleep with difficulty. To-night,
though tired by the journey, she tossed restlessly


74
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
on her narrow camp-bed. Suddenly, in the dead
of night, she sat up, listening. A familiar voice
seemed to be speaking. She slipped noiselessly
to the canvas flap covering the entrance to the
tent, and peeped out.
There were two shadows out there, moving
away in the moonlight. One she recognized im-
mediately for the Indian bank-clerk. Who was
the other? They stopped, and half turned to-
ward the tent. It was Huascar!
What was Huascar doing there, at that time
of night, with that strange Indian? Why were
they pointing at her tent? What did it all
mean? ... The two shadows were walking
again. ... Then the peace of the night was
broken by a neigh, and the young girl saw a
picketed horse stamping in the shadow beyond.
Huascar vaulted into the saddle, while his com-
panion loosed the picket-rope, still talking and
occasionally nodding toward the tent. Then
both disappeared, and silence descended again
on the sleeping camp.
Maria-Teresa could not sleep all night. Huas-
car's unexpected reappearance was in no way
calculated to calm the half-expressed terror
which haunted her, and which she refused to
acknowledge, stifling what she called her cow-
ardice. Had she anything to fear from Huas-
car? She could not believe it. She knew quite


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
75
.
well that the Indian loved her, but as a faithful
dog does, she thought; and she felt certain that
she could count on his devotion were she in any
danger.
And yet! And yet! ... And yet what?
What danger could there be? It was too ab-
surd! She was becoming as ridiculous as those
two old ladies with their crazy legends! With
that, she decided not to say a word to either Dick
or her father. She was not going to be taken
for a child afraid of every shadow it saw at night.
But she would question Huayna Capac Runtu
on the very first occasion.
This occasion presented itself during the first
stage of the next day's journey. Maria Teresa,
the Marquis, Dick and old Montgomery led the
way. Uncle Francis, at first delighted with the
prospect of a mule-ride, soon determined to get
off again. Riding along the very edge of preci.
pices, his mount felt ten times too high, and he
was sure that he would be safer on foot and, at
certain times, on all-fours. He gradually be-
came convinced that his mule would slip, and
determined to dismount, at a point where two
riders could not pass abreast.
The whole cavalcade was thus stopped, while
those behind called on the scientist to go ahead,
and he vowed that he would do nothing of the
kind, twisting in his saddle and trying to dis-


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
I told him you were there, he asked me to keep
watch over you. ... He went on immediately
afterwards.”
“Do I need somebody to keep watch over me,
then? Am I in any danger?”.
“ The ordinary dangers of a journey like this.
A mule may miss its footing, or a saddle may
slip off. In either case, it spells death. That
is what Huascar meant, and that is why I myself
chose your mule and girthed it up this morning."
“You are too kind,” said Maria-Teresa drily.
At this moment, Uncle Francis drew level
with them. He had recovered his equanimity
with the wider path, and spoke casually of moun-
tain dangers.
“All the same,” he added, “I wonder how
Pizarro managed to bring his little army through
here."
Maria-Teresa threw him a look which, had he
seen it, would have toppled the clumsy scientist
into a ravine, mule and all. But he remained
serenely unconscious.
“It is extraordinary," acquiesced Oviedo.
“I have made rather a study of it. At some
points, the road was so steep that the horsemen
had to dismount and almost drag their chargers
after them. A single false step would have
hurled them thousands of feet below. The de-
files were then just practicable for the half-


78
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
naked Indians, and think what it must have been
for armored men, with the menace of an un-
known enemy above them."
“ But what were the Indians doing all this
time?” asked Dick, approaching in his turn.
“Nothing, señor ... they were awaiting a
visitor, not a foe. ... Messages had been ex-
changed which. ..."
“ One question," put in the Marquis' voice.
“Do you suppose that if King Atahualpa had for
one minute imagined his 50,000 men were incap-
able of defending him against a hundred and
fifty Spaniards, that he would have behaved as
he did? No, he merely felt contempt for their
weakness. And he was wrong!”
“Yes, señor, he was wrong.” The bank-clerk
bent his head humbly over his saddle-bow.
Then, straightening himself again, he pointed to
a peak towering above. “He should have ap-
peared in those defiles, like the horseman yon-
der, and all would have been finished. The Sun
our God would still be reigning over the Empire
of the Incas!”
As he said these words, the clerk seemed to
have grown to a giant. His sweeping gesture
took in the whole huge mass of the Andes, mak-
ing of it a pedestal for the Indian above them,
sitting motionless on his horse, and watching
their caravan.


II
AFTER another night in camp, the travelers came
in sight of the beautiful valley of Cajamarca,
smiling below them in striking contrast to the
somber mountains around. Thus did this happy
valley appear to the astonished eyes of Pizarro's
men. It was inhabited in the days of the Con-
quistador by a race far superior to those with
which the Spaniards had met on the other side
of the mountains, as was clearly shown by the
taste of their clothes, the cleanliness and com-
fort of their homes. As far as the eye could
reach was a prosperous plain, watered by a wide
river, abundantly irrigated by canals and sub-
terranean aqueducts, broken up by green hedges
and well-cultivated fields; for the ground was
rich, and the temperate climate favorable to
farming. Immediately below the adventurers
lay the little city of Cajamarca, its white houses
twinkling in the sunlight, like a precious stone
shining in the dark girdle of the Sierra.
About a league beyond, in the valley, Pizarro
could see columns of steam rising to the sky,
and showing the position of the famous hot baths
of the princes of Peru.
80


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
There was also a spectacle far less pleasing to
the Spaniards. The lower mountain slopes dis-
appeared under a cloud of white tents, covering
an area of several miles. “We were amazed,”
wrote one of the conquerors, “ to find the Indians
holding so proud a position, and this sight threw
confusion, and even fear, into the staunchest
hearts. But it was too late to turn, or to show
the slightest weakness, and after carefully ex-
ploring the ground, we put on the best faces that
we could, and prepared to enter Caxamarxa."
Flowing over with such memories, and wild
with excitement at finding himself in a land
which he knew so well by hearsay, Uncle Francis
stood up in his stirrups, and held forth inter.
minably on the Cajamarca of his dreams. In-
structed by Oviedo Runtu, he showed them the
exact spot where Atahualpa and his 50,000 war-
riors had awaited Pizarro. Uncle Francis him-
self felt no fear of this huge army, massed in
the hidden fastnesses of a continent discovered
by Christopher Columbus just forty years before
Pizarro's wild venture. He felt like a hero of
antiquity, and was quite ready to give the order
to charge.
There was nobody there to tell them, though,
what were the feelings of the Peruvian monarch
when he saw the warlike band of Christians,
banners flying, corselets and morions gleaming,


82
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
debouch from the dark defile and advance into
the rolling domains which until then no white
man had ever seen.
Suddenly, Uncle Francis' mule bolted, and a
burst of laughter went up from the whole party.
Excited by the shouts and cries, the other mules
followed their leader, helter-skelter down the
incline. The obvious dénouement was not long
in coming. Uncle Francis' mount, in a des-
perate effort to get away from the noise behind,
rolled over, and the unfortunate scientist de-
scribed a neat somersault. He was on his
feet again almost at once, and soon set his anx-
ious companions at rest.
“ Thus it was," he laughed, “ that Pizarro won
his first battle.”
Maria-Teresa and Dick appearing disposed to
listen, he explained that in the Conquistador's
first fight with Incas, before he crossed the
Andes, the little band of Spaniards, hard
pressed, was saved by one hidalgo being un-
horsed. The Incas, knowing nothing of horses
or horsemanship, were so frightened that they
fled, not daring to face this extraordinary animal
which became two and still went on fighting.
Naturally, nobody believed him, though he was
in no way drawing on his imagination. The
whole story of the conquest of Peru is so extra-
ordinary that one must forgive incredulity.


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
83
These facts, however, are vouched for by well-
authenticated documents in the Royal Archives
at Madrid, which Uncle Francis had taken care
to study before starting for the Americas with
his nephew. They were still laughing at his ad-
venture and his story when their cavalcade
reached the walls of Cajamarca.
It was nightfall as they entered the city. The
first thing to arrest their attention was the enor-
mous number of Indians in the streets, and their
silence. Cajamarca, with a normal population
of between twelve and thirteen thousand, cer-
tainly sheltered twice as many souls that night.
And still more people were coming.
On the highroad, the Marquis' party had suc-
cessively passed file after file of Indians, plod.
ding in the direction of their Sacred City. For
Cajamarca may be called the necropolis of the
Incas, and one can hardly take a step in its
streets or avenues without meeting with some re-
minder of the splendor of a vanished empire.
It was easy to see, by the manner of the
Quichuas crowding the historic roadways, that a
religious pilgrimage had brought together this
mass.
The amazement of the travelers, however, was
as nothing to that of the inhabitants themselves,
who had never before witnessed such an invasion.
In the memory of living man, the Interaymi had


84
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
never visibly moved the multitude in this man.
ner. Even the great decennial fête had been
rather the occasion for a general disappearance
of Indians than for their appearance.
What did it all mean? The authorities were
distinctly ill at ease, and the few troops massed
at Cajamarca when the news came in of Garcia's
Indian revolt at the other end of the country
had been put under arms. The doors of the
city's eight churches were militarily guarded,
for each one of these buildings might have made
a fortress. The rest of the troops had been
gathered in the main square, not far from the
ruined palace in which stands the stone on which
Atahualpa, last King of the Incas, was burned
alive.
These ruins were the goal of the Indians' long
pilgrimage over the mountains, the visit to that
stone being the religious and outward pretext.
for this mute manifestation by a conquered race.
Don Christobal, amazed at what he saw, nery-
ously remembered that the great Indian revolt
of 1818 had been preceded by just such happen-
ings. Were the Interaymi festivals which began
next day really to be the signal for one of those
revolts which the governments of Peru had long
decided were no more to be feared ?
As he was putting this question to himself,
the Marquis caught sight of the post-office, and


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
85
immediately dismounted. Dick and Maria-
Teresa exchanged a smile. They were at last to
know the name of the facetious sender of the
Golden Sun bracelet.
They pulled up their mules, and waited with
an indifferent air that was perhaps a little af-
fected. Ten minutes later the Marquis came
out.
“I have the name and address," he said in a
puzzled voice.
“And what is the name?” questioned Maria-
Teresa.
“Atahualpa," replied her father, mounting.
“ So the jest continues.” — Maria-Teresa's
voice had changed a little.
“Apparently so. The clerk who received the
parcel says it was brought in by an Indian, who
said his name really was Atahualpa. That,
after all, is possible.”
“Well, as you have the address, we might pay
him a little call," suggested Dick.
“ Exactly what I was going to say.” And
Don Christobal turned his mule. Uncle Francis
brought up the rear, vigorously taking notes,
with his book resting on the pommel of the
saddle.
They crossed a rivulet racing towards an af-
fluent of the upper Maranon, passed San Fran.
cisco, the first Christian church built in Peru,


86
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
and, after the Marquis had asked his way sev-
eral times, finally reached a square teeming with
Indians.
On one side of this square still stood ancient
palace walls. There had been the last home of
the last Inca King. There he had lived in
splendor, and there he died a martyr. There
had been the home of Atahualpa, and there had
the post-office clerk directed Don Christobal de
la Torre!


III
TAKEN in the swirl of the crowd, the little cav-
alcade was gradually headed toward the ruined
palace, and forced through its huge gates almost
before the Marquis' party knew what had hap-
pened.
They were now in a vast courtyard packed
with Indians. Some of them, standing erect,
showed the proud foreheads of chiefs, but the
great majority were prostrate round a stone in
the center — the stone of the martyrdom of Ata-
hualpa.
On the far side of this stone, standing on a
rude bench, was a man draped in a poncho of
vivid red. . . . He was speaking in Quichua,
while the crowd listened in reverent silence.
As the party of strangers rode into the court-
yard, a sharp voice behind them interrupted the
psalm-like recitation of the man in the red pon-
cho.
“Speak Spanish, and everybody will under-
stand," it said.
The Marquis and Maria-Teresa turned. Be-
hind them was their bank-clerk traveling com.
87


88
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
panion, bowing as if to make them understand
that he had intervened to do them a favor.
Extraordinarily enough, this interruption, al-
most sacrilegious as it was, did not stir a man.
The Indian in the red poncho paused for a mo-
ment, and continued in Spanish.
“ In those days,” he said, “ the Inca was all-
powerful, and a vast army bowed to his will.
The city was surrounded by a triple wall of
stone, in the heart of which stood the citadel and
the home of the Virgins of the Sun. The Inca,
knowing no fear, and ignorant of all treason, al-
lowed the white men to enter the city and re-
ceived them as friends, as envoys from that
other great emperor beyond the seas.
“But the leader of the Strangers, doubting the
generous heart of the Inca, had divided his army
into three bands, marching toward the city in
battle array. Then the Inca said, “Since they
fear our hospitality, let us all leave the city, so
that peace may enter their hearts. Thus it was
that when the Conquistador rode through our
streets, he met not a living soul, and heard no
sound but the stamp of his own warriors' feet.”
Here the speaker stopped, as if to gather his
thoughts, and continued :
“ This was at a late hour in the afternoon.
The Stranger then sent an ambassador to the
Inca's camp. He sent his brother, Fernando,


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
89
and twenty horsemen. The Inca received Fer-
nando on his throne, his forehead adorned with
the royal borla. He was surrounded by his of-
ficers and wives.
“ The Strangers came with words of honey,
and the Inca replied: "Tell your leader that I
am fasting until to-morrow. Then will I and
my chiefs visit him. Until then, I allow him to
occupy the public buildings on the square, but
no others. I will decide to-morrow what is
meet.'
“Now it happened that after these good words,
a Spaniard, to thank the Inca, put his horse
through its paces, for the prince who had never
seen such an animal. And several of those pres-
ent having shown fear, while the Inca himself
remained impassible, the Inca ordered them to
be put to death, as was just. Then the ambas-
sadors drank chicha in golden vases brought to
them by the Virgins of the Sun, and returned to
Cajamarca.
“When they told their leader of what they
had seen, the splendor of the Inca’s camp, the
number of his troops, despair entered the sol.
diers' hearts. At night they saw the Inca's
camp-fires lighting up the mountain-sides, and
blazing in the darkness like a multitude of
stars."
The Indian paused again, then went on:


90.
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
“ But the Stranger, intent on evil, went among
his men spreading the shameful words which
gave them new courage. The next day, at noon,
the Inca's bodyguard advanced toward the city.
The King could be seen above the multitude, car.
ried on the shoulders of his princes. Behind
him, the ranks of his own soldiers stretched
as far as the eye could reach. The city was
silent, save for the cry of the sentinels on the
citadel walls, reporting the movements of the
Inca's army.
“First there entered into the city three hun.
dred servitors, chanting songs of triumph to the
glory of the Inca. Then came warriors, guards,
lords adorned with silver, copper, and gold.
Our Atahualpa, Son of the Sun, was borne above
all on a throne of massive gold. Now, when
Atahualpa, with six thousand men, had reached
the great square without seeing a single white
man, he asked: "Where are the strangers?'
And a monk, whom none had seen until then,
approached the Inca, a cross in his hand. With
the monk was an interpreter of our race. The
Inca listened while the priest told him of his
religion and urged him to abandon the faith of
his fathers for that of the Christian. Atahualpa
replied: "Your God was put to death by the
men to whom he gave life. But mine lives still
in the Heavens, and shines upon his children.”


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
91
At these words, the Indians surrounding the
little band of Europeans turned toward the sun,
just about to vanish behind the Andes, uttering
a strange cry, a cry of mingled farewell and hope
handed down by generations as the salutation of
their faith to the God of Day. Above the rev-
erently bowed throng, a purple sky awaited the
coming of night.
The scene was so grandiose that Dick and
Maria-Teresa could not restrain a movement of
admiration. There could be no doubt of it: the
Sun god still had his true worshipers, as in the
tragic days of Atahualpa. To know it, one had
only to look at this trembling mass of men, who
had kept their language and their traditions
through so many centuries. They had been van-
quished, but not conquered. Perhaps it was
true after all that back there in the mountains,
in some city unknown to all but themselves,
guarded by the rampart of the Andes and the
eternal snows, there lived priests who passed
their lives feeding the sacred fires.
After their salutation to the Sun, the Indians
resumed their kneeling posture, many, strangely
enough, making the sign of the cross as they
bent to the ground. Where did that sign come
from? Was it only another instance of the ex-
traordinary mingling of cults and creeds so often
seen, or did it go even further back? Historians


92
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
there are who say that the conquerors found it
already used by the Incas. Did some early
Christian adventurers, then, found the twin em
pires of the Americas ? While Uncle Francis
dreamed on, lost in such conjectures, the priest
in the red poncho, took up the broken thread
of his narration:
“Pizarro and his men, armed for battle, were
hiding in the halls of the vast palace surround-
ing the square. There the monk who had spoken
to Atahualpa rejoined the Stranger, and said
to him: “Do you not see that we wrestle in vain
with this dog's pride? His troops are coming
up by the thousand. Strike while it is not too
late!'"
The silence became, if possible, more intense.
The man in red, about to tell of what he called
the Crime of the Stranger, straightened himself
on his pedestal till he dominated the whole as-
sembly.
".St. James and at them!' With that ac-
cursed battle-cry, Pizarro's men hurled them-
selves on the Inca and his guard. Horse and
foot charged out of the palace in which they had
been hidden, smashing in the Indian ranks. A
terrible panic seized Atahualpa’s followers, who
fled in all directions. Nobles and servants,
princes and guards, fled before the terrible horse-
men, who trampled down all before them.


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
93
“ They made no resistance. They could not,
for they were unarmed. Nor could they flee,
for all the doors and streets were barred by the
corpses of those trampled to death in a vain
effort to escape. So terrible was the press, the
whirling swords driving our people ever further
back, that one wall of the square fell. Hun-
dreds fled through this opening and scattered
in all directions, the Spanish horse in pursuit.
“Atahualpa's throne, borne hither and thither
in the crowd, was finally reached by the Span-
iards. He would have been killed there and
then had not Pizarro intervened. In doing so, he
was wounded in the hand by one of his own men.
The nobles carrying the royal litter were cut
down, and the Inca was seized by Pizarro. A
soldier named Estete tore the borla from his
forehead, and the captured monarch was con-
ducted to a hall near by.
“ With the capture of the Inca, all resistance
ceased. The news spread through the country
like wildfire, and all thought of real resistance
was gone. Even the thousands of soldiers en-
camped round the city took fright, and scattered.
The only bond which might have kept the In-
dians united had been cut.
“ That night, the Inca supped with Pizarro.
He showed surprising courage, and remained im-
passible throughout the meal.


94
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
“ The next day, the sack of the city began.
Never had the Spaniards seen so much gold and
silver. Atahualpa, quick to see their greed, of-
fered Pizarro to buy his liberty by covering with
gold the floor of the room in which they were.
Finally, he declared that he would not only
cover the floor, but also fill the room as high as
he could reach.
“With that, he made a mark on the wall with
his fingertip; and Pizarro, accepting, ordered a
red line to be drawn round the room at that
height. The room was seventeen feet by twenty-
two long, and the line was drawn nine feet from
the ground.”
At this point, the red priest stopped and
walked slowly to a ruined wall. “Here," he
said, pointing to a still faintly visible line, “was
the mark of the ransom.
“Atahualpa, moreover, promised to fill a
neighboring room with silver, and asked for two
months in which to fulfil the task. His mes-
sengers, chosen among the Spaniards' prisoners,
were despatched into all the provinces of the
Empire.
“ Meanwhile, the Inca was closely watched, for
his captivity meant not only Pizarro's security,
but also fabulous riches for the Conquistadors.
The room filled gradually, Indians arriving
daily with golden goblets, platters, vases and


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
95
bar gold to lay at the feet of their prisoned
ruler. On some days, we are told, as much as
60,000 pesos of booty was brought in.
“ To hasten the gathering of the ransom,
Pizarro sent his brother Fernando to Cuzco, the
greatest city of the Incas. With them went a
messenger from Atahualpa, at whose orders the
priests stripped the Temple of the Sun, and the
inhabitants gave up every scrap of precious
metal in their possession. Fernando brought
back with him, besides a mass of silver, 200 full
loads of gold.
“Now faced with the problem of taking his
plunder from the country, Pizarro ordered the
melting-down of the hundreds of objects massed
in the treasure-room. The finest pieces sent
from temples and palaces were set aside for
Charles V., to show the Emperor what a won-
derful land had been added to his possession —
all the rest was to be reduced to ingots.
“ The native jewelers, obeying Atahualpa,
worked night and day for a month to carry out
this task. When the ingots were weighed, the
Spaniards found that they had gold to the value
of 1,326,539 pesos de oro. This would mean, in
modern currency, and taking into consideration
the altered value of money, more than three and
a half millions sterling, or close on fifteen and
a half million dollars.


96
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
“But now that the ransom had been paid,
Atahualpa was not set at liberty. His captors
accused him of fomenting a rebellion against
Charles V., and threatened him with death.
Atahualpa replied:
“Am I not a poor prisoner in your hands?
Why should I do so, knowing that I should be
the first to suffer if my people rose? And unless
I give the order, none will raise a hand against
you. Even the birds in my states hardly dare
fly against my will.
“ But his protestations of innocence had little
effect. Pizarro's men were convinced that a
general rising was being prepared. Patrols
were doubled, and every man of the little army
slept under arms.
“Pizarro did all he could, or pretended to do
all he could, to save the Inca's life, but in vain.
His followers demanded it, and Atahualpa,
brought to trial, was found guilty and sentenced
to be burned alive. On the 29th of August, 1533,
his fate was proclaimed in the great square of
the city to the sound of bugles, and two hours
after sunset he was taken to the stake.
“Atahualpa left this hall loaded with chains !
He passed through this door on his way to mar-
tyrdom !”
Once again the red priest left his rude ros-
trum, walking here and there through the crowd,


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
97
evoking by deed as well as word the last hours
of the last Inca. The silence was intense, and
his voice, alternately grave and impassioned,
rang out like a clarion note.
In the sad story, the Indian orator had omit-
ted all that showed the immense courage of the
Conquistadors and the cowardice of the Inca's
followers. Everything was attributed to the
treachery of the Spaniards.
“So Atahualpa died at the stake!”
Menacing and prophetic, the priest turned to-
ward the spot where Christobal de la Torre and
his companions, hemmed in by the crowd, had
listened, as motionless as any of the faithful
present.
“And I say unto you, cursed be all the sons
of those who came to us with a lie in their hearts !
They shall die like dogs, and never know the
blessed palaces of the Sun. They shall die un-
blessed, the liars who say that Atahualpa ab-
jured his faith! The Son of the Sun remained
true to the God of Day!”
There was a threatening murmur in the crowd.
Round the Sacred Stone, it grew to a roar.
How dared those strangers come there at such a
time? Centuries of slavery can never bend
backs so low that they will not straighten at
certain hours. The descendant of Christobal de
la Torre had met one of those hours.


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
99
“Let the strangers pass,” ordered Huascar,
and himself escorted them to the ancient palace
gates.
Outside, on the plaza, they met a police patrol.
The sergeant, in undertaking to escort them to
the inn, was eloquent on their imprudence in
coming into a quarter peopled by fanatical In-
dians on the eve of the Interaymi.
The Marquis wished to thank Huascar, but
the Indian had vanished. Maria-Teresa and
Dick, both very white, had not a word to say.
Uncle Francis was also dumb, and did not take
a single note.
At the inn they found only one vacant room,
in which they all gathered. Dick was the first
to utter the thought which was worrying them
all.
“ Suppose it was true!”
“Yes, suppose it was true!” repeated Maria-
Teresa.
“What? Suppose what was true?” de-
manded the Marquis, refusing to understand.
« The Virgin of the Sun!”
They were all silent for a moment, bent under
the weight of one amazing, absurd, monstrous
thought. And they exchanged anxious, fright-
ened looks, like children who are being told some
terrifying fairy-tale. Dick broke the spell:
“ You heard what Huascar said. “Who


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
101
time, it announced the arrival of the Chief of
Police, who was anxious to know what had hap-
pened. He had heard of the incident at Ata-
hualpa’s palace, and had moreover been warned
by an Indian, an employee at the Franco-Belgian
bank at Lima, that it might be dangerous for
the Marquis and his companions to show them-
selves in the streets on the following day.
It was obvious that the man feared trouble,
and would have given anything to see the party
a hundred miles away. When he learned that
they were ready to leave at once, he busied him-
self about finding them fresh mules and a guide,
and furthermore detailed four troopers to escort
the party as far as the railway.
Cajamarca was left at eleven o'clock that
night, and the return journey was made at
double the speed at which they had come. Dick
would let nobody rest, and forced the pace
throughout. It was not until the following
night, safe in the train for Pascamayo, that they
realized the ridicule that attached to their hasty
flight. “Just like a pack of children frightened
out of their lives by Agnes' stories," said the
Marquis.
Back in civilized life again, they were all sur-
prised at their panic. After all, the whole thing
could be so naturally explained - fanatics re-
senting the presence of strangers at a religious


102
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
festival, and nothing more. The best thing they
could do was to forget it as soon as possible.
Uncle Francis restored the party's gaiety by
going through the same performance which he
had rehearsed on landing.
Forty-eight hours in Lima completely dis-
pelled the cobwebs. Maria-Teresa found a great
deal of work awaiting her, and forgot her fears
in a maze of figures which took her to Callao
early, and kept her busy at the offices until late
in the afternoon, when Dick came to fetch her.
One afternoon, about eight days after the ad-
venture at Cajamarca, the tap at her window
which announced Dick's arrival came earlier
than usual. Maria-Teresa got up, and threw,
open the shutters. Dick was not there. ...
Then she retreated with a half-strangled scream.
Was it possible? In the rapidly gathering dark-
ness, she could not be sure, and leaned out of
the window to see better. ... That thing, sway-
ing in the darkness, looked just like the sugar.
loaf skull. . . . She retreated into the room,
trembling in every limb, and turned round.
From the dark corners of the chamber two other
shadows, the valise and cap skulls, were advanc-
ing slowly, swaying as they came.
For a moment, Maria-Teresa thought she had
lost her reason. Then she made a violent effort
to regain control of herself. Dead skulls could


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
103
not come to life like this. And yet, they were
coming toward her, swaying horribly, above
shadowy bodies! A desperate scream for help
was choked in her throat. “Dick! . .," and
nothing more. The three living skulls had
hurled themselves upon her, gagged her, and
now, throwing the inanimate girl over their
shoulders, hurried through the black hole of the
open window. Maria-Teresa's own motor was
waiting there, her negro boy at the wheel, smil-
ing strangely.
Their mummy hands, horribly living, lifted
the girl into the tonneau, and the three mon.
sters, like three larvae, climbed in after her.
Then the car shot down the street.


BOOK III
THE TRAIL OF THE PONCHOS





T
MEANWHILE, Dick, wandering through Callao
until the time came to call for Maria-Teresa, was
strolling up the Calle de Lima. He had just
come from the Darsena docks, where the harbor
engineers had been giving him news the reverse
of cheerful. In the present condition of the
country, they said, any venture in the deserted
gold-mines of the Cuzco was hopeless.
The last two days had brought news of fight-
ing from the other end of the country. Or, at
all events, cartridges were being used up, even
if there was no attendant damage. Everybody
had thought Garcia feasting at Arequipa, but
the pretender had evaded his enemies and at-
tacked the Republican forces between Sicuani
and the Cuzco. It was even rumored that Cuzco
itself had fallen into his hands.
Were all this true, the outlook for Dick's af-
fairs was bad. His company, thanks to the in-
fluence of the Marquis de la Torre, had obtained
a concession from President Veintemilla. This
would not be worth the paper it was written on
if Garcia proved victorious. Super-active by
nature, the young engineer could not endure the
107


108
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
thought of the long months of enforced idleness
before him until the revolution had been settled
in one way or another.
As he came into the Calle de Lima, Dick pulled
out his watch. He found that he still had a few
minutes to spare. Much as she loved him,
Maria-Teresa did not like being interrupted at
her work, so he turned into the Circulo de los
Amigos de las Artes for a drink. This establish-
ment, though baptized a club, was in reality a
huge café and reading-room. The ground floor
was packed with people discussing the latest
events. Cuzco was in every mouth, and it was
noticeable that Veintemilla's warmest partizans
now had a good word to say for Garcia.
A stampede of shock-headed newsboys, shout-
ing the latest edition of an official paper, tore
past the café, scattering still wet sheets and col-
lecting coppers. One of the customers climbed
onto a table and read out a proclamation by the
President, urging calm and giving a categorical
denial to the report of the capture of Cuzco.
General Garcia and his troops, the President an-
nounced, were bottled up in Arequipa, all the
sierra defiles were in the hands of Government
troops, and the traitors would be hurled into the
sea or chased into the great sand deserts. The
proclamation concluded with a reference to In-
dian troubles in the suburbs, attributing them


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
109
to the usual Interaymi effervescence, and dis-
missing them as negligible. Cheers for the
President ended the reading of his manifesto.
Wavering allegiances were at once restored, and
it was generally agreed that his statement was
superb.
Dick left the café a little happier, though he
did not really place a great deal of faith in the
official denial. Night had fallen and he walked
briskly, now fearing that he might be late. As
he went, he remembered his first day's walk
through this same labyrinth of narrow streets.
Then he caught sight of his fiancée's verandah in
the distance, and noticed that the window was
open, as on the first day.
There she sat, the little business-woman, with
her brass-covered green registers. What a
manly little brain it was! And to think that the
pair of them had been such fools over that
Golden Sun bracelet. . . . Something to laugh
about in after years, that!
“ Hello, Maria Teresa!”
There was no answer, and Dick walked up to
the window.
“ Maria-Teresa!”
Still no answer. He peered into the room,
trying to see where she was hiding. Nobody
there.
“Good God! Maria-Teresa !”


110
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
He walked into the room. There could be no
doubt of it. That table knocked down, those
books on the floor, that curtain torn from its
rings, this broken pane in the window told the
story. Silence greeted his shout for help. Not
a seryant, not a soul in the place, and all the
doors open!“ Maria-Teresa! Maria-Teresa !”
Hardly knowing what he did, Dick ran
into the deserted courtyard, and then back into
the office. There could be no doubt of it.
Huascar and his Indians had carried her off.
That dog Huascar, whom she trusted, and who
loved her, not as a dog should, but as if he were
a man. Horror-stricken, furious, Dick searched
the room for some clue.
The scoundrels! He swore aloud as he pic-
tured Maria-Teresa struggling in Huascar's
arms and calling for help in vain. That was
where he should have been, instead of listening
to all those fools in the café. He could have
laid his hands on Huascar then! That was the
man they should have watched instead of being
thrown off the scent by all those wild-cat legends
about the Bride of the Sun.
An Indian in love with a white girl and thirst-
ing for revenge! Of course! He saw it all now,
and remembered how Huascar had last left that
same room, driven out by Maria-Teresa. The
insolent dog, with his fist raised in menace!


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
111
As idea after idea swept across his brain, Dick
stared helplessly at the blank walls about him.
What could he do? He jumped back into the
street and hesitated. No clue here — only the
doors of closed stores and sightless walls — a
pit of gloom.
Suddenly he heard voices, and leaped into ac-
tion. At the corner of the street there, under
that lantern, was a: wine-shop, the only living
thing in this dead street. He ran toward it,
kicked the door open, and almost fell on top of
Domingo, the night watchman.
“ Where is your mistress ? "
Domingo, taken aback, mumbled indistinctly.
He thought that the señorita had returned to
Lima as usual with the señor. The motor had
gone by just a little while ago.
“ What motor?"
Domingo shrugged his shoulders. There were
not so many motors as all that in Callao and
Lima.
“ Who was driving?"
“ The boy.”
“ Libertad?"
“ Si, señor, Libertad.”
“ Did he say anything to you as he went
past?"
“ No, señor, he did not see me.”
“ Did you see your mistress? ”


112
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
“ The hood was up, señor, and the motor was
traveling fast. ... Nay, señor! ... That is
the truth. I swear it!”
Dick seized the man by the collar, and shook
him like a rat.
“What were you doing here? Why were you
not with your mistress, at your post?”
“I meant no harm, señor. A Quichua offered
me a drink here . . . real pisco, señor."
Dick, without listening, dragged the protest-
ing man through the streets and into the empty
office. When he realized what had happened,
Domingo would have torn his hair out with grief,
but Dick, seizing him by the throat, drove him
to the wall and looked into his eyes. A fool or
a traitor, which was he?
Told to speak, and speak quickly, Domingo
answered Dick's volley of questions without a
minute's hesitation. The señorita could not
have been carried off without the aid of Liber-
tad, a rascally half-breed to whom the señorita
had given work out of pity. The day and hour
had been chosen by some one who knew the place
well, for on Saturday afternoons there were no
workmen or clerks on the premises.
“ When you went out to drink, was the motor
already waiting?"
“ Yes, señor. It had been there half an hour.”
“ Was the hood up?"


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
113
“ No, señor. Libertad was sitting in it alone.”
Releasing his grip, Dick dashed into the street
again and started running toward the main ave-
nue. If Maria Teresa had been carried off in
her own motor, it would be easy to trace her
part of the way. As Domingo had said, there
were not so many cars about.
As he dashed round a corner, Dick came into
sharp collision with a man emerging from a door-
way, who swore vigorously. Dick recognized
him at once, and gave such a shout that the
chief of police, for it was he, fell into a posture
of defense.
“Forgive me, señor. ... I am Dick Mont-
gomery ... the fiancé of Señorita de la Torre.
... She has been carried off by the Indi-
ans! ..."
“ Doña Maria Teresa ? That is not possible!”
In a few words, Dick told the little old gentle-
man what had happened, and gave him his sus-
picions. He found ready sympathy and belief.
“I was on my way to dine with a friend just
opposite. A minute while I tell them that I
cannot come, and I am with you."
He hurried across the street while Dick, with
an indignant snort, moved on toward the harbor,
questioning shopkeepers and pedestrians as he
went. So far as he could gather, the motor had
about half-an-hour's start of them.


114
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
Dick was convinced that he had seen the last
of the Chief of Police. In this he did the little
man an injustice, for he had hardly gone two
hundred yards before he heard footsteps behind
him.
“ You did not wait, señor? Well, here I am.
Natividad is always to be counted upon.”
Though his real name was Perez, the Chief of
Police was known throughout the city as Nativi-
dad, a nickname earned him by his cherubic face,
and of which he was rather proud. Dick found
the little man hot enough against the Indians
even for his taste. Natividad hated the Qui-
chuas, and believed them capable of anything.
Just before they reached the harbor, at the
corner of the narrow Calle de San Lorenzo,
Natividad seized Dick by the arm and drew him
to the wall. The street was deserted, and
lighted only by feeble rays from a low glass-
paned door a few steps ahead. This door had
just been opened, and a man peered out cau.
tiously. Dick stifled a desire to shout. He had
recognized Huascar!
The Indian whistled, and two shadows, wear.
ing wide-brimmed Indian sombreros, detached
themselves from the wall at the other end of the
street. They rejoined Huascar, who had closed
the door behind him, and exchanged a few rapid
words. Then the two walked off in the direction


116 THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
Huascar knows where Maria-Teresa is. We
must not lose sight of him.”
“We shall not have to wait long,” replied
Natividad, stiffening at a fresh noise from the
other end of the calle. “ Here are those Indians
coming back with horses. ... What does it
mean? ... Madre de Dios!... Is it possible?
... The Interaymi! ... Silence!”
The clatter of hoofs on the cobbled roadway
showed that quite a strong cavalcade was ap-
proaching, and the watchers drew back farther
to the shelter of an alley nearly opposite the low
door, and from which they could still see all that
was happening round it. As the cavalcade rode
up, the door opened again, showing all the In-
dians standing up, and apparently waiting for
somebody.
Huascar appeared first; after him an Indian
whom Dick recognized at once for the Red
Preacher of Cajamarca; lastly a man in a lounge-
suit of impeccable cut:— Oviedo Huayna Runtu
himself. Then an incredible thing happened.
All these men who had remained motionless be-
fore Huascar and the priest bent on their knees,
humbled their heads to the ground before the
bank-clerk.
The troop of horses and mules had halted
before the low door, and men with lanterns came
out of the house. The bank-clerk was the first


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
117
to vault into the saddle, Huascar holding his
stirrup. Then Huascar and the Cajamarca
priest mounted, ranging themselves on each side
of the leader, but just behind him.
Huascar turned in his saddle and made a sign.
Every Indian in the party threw open his pon-
cho, showing beneath it, in the light of the lan-
terns, another cloak of brilliant red.
" The Red Ponchos!” gasped Natividad,
grasping Dick's arm..
There was a whistle at the end of the street,
answered by another a long way off, at the other
end of the Darsena quay, ... and the cavalcade
started.
Dick made as if to follow, but Natividad held
him back.
“ Wait, and listen! We must know which
way they are going!”


HUNCHED forward, he listened, then turned to
his companion.
« The Chorillos road. Unless I am much mis-
taken, they are following the motor.”
“ Come on; we must get after them! Where
can we get horses?"
“Follow me. We can do better than that.
We have the telephone and the railway.” And
once again he took up his litany :-" The Red
Ponchos! The Red Ponchos ! ”
“What do you mean by that? ... Red or
gray, it's all one. ... Those men belong to
Huascar's band, and helped him. ... That
seems pretty clear to me.”
“Quite right, quite right. I agree with you
now, young sir," replied Natividad, puffing by
Dick's side as they hurried toward the railway
station. “Yes, indeed. They are all in it. ...
The Red Ponchos. ... The Priests of the Sun."
Dick stopped dead. Natividad's last words at
last made him understand. He remembered, in
a flash, all the legends told by Aunt Agnes and
old Irene. And they had seen fit to laugh.
118


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
119
“ Good God!” he groaned, and began running
again. As he ran, he shouted to his companion:
_“But we'll catch them yet, and you'll arrest
them all!”
“I shall do what I can. But there are at
least thirty of them, and there are not enough
troops in Callao to send a squadron in pursuit.
... Every soldier the city could spare has been
sent into the sierra against Garcia."
“ You can telephone to Lima."
“And they'll take me for a madman, as they
did ten years ago," replied Natividad enigmatic-
ally.
.“ Will we get to Chorillos before them?"
“ Yes, there's a train in ten minutes' time."
“ It seems to me we would have done better to
follow on horseback. Then we could have found
out where they were going. Thirty of them, are
there? Only damned Indians, though. I
wouldn't mind tackling the lot myself.”
“ This way is the best. ..." And Natividad
added in an undertone: “ They wouldn't believe
me ten years ago. Well, it's beginning again.”
Dick, intent on reaching the railway station,
did not hear him. He could only think of those
mysterious Indians on the highroad out there.
“ We shall lose their track," he groaned.
“ You need not fear that,” replied the Chief of
Police. “Their road runs alongside the railway


120
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
line. If we see a motor waiting on it, we stop
the train. If we overhaul the Red Ponchos
alone, we go on to Chorillos, and wait for them
there. I'll see that the police expect them.
Nothing is lost yet, Señor Montgomery.”
At the railway station, Natividad found he
had just time to telephone his instructions to
the Chorillos police. No motor coming from the
direction of Callao was to be allowed to pass.
They were talking to the guard of the express
when a Lima train steamed into the station, and
they saw the Marquis, Uncle Francis and little
Christobal appear.
“Where is Maria-Teresa ?” shouted the Mar-
quis as he caught sight of Dick, and ran toward
him. “Why are you alone? Where is she?
What has happened? Speak, boy!”
Little Christobal, clinging to Dick's legs, re-
iterated his father's questions, while Uncle Fran-
cis' long shanks took him wandering aimlessly
round the little group. The guard blew his
whistle, and Natividad pushed them all into a
carriage just as the train started.
“Yes, she has been carried off by the Indians,
but we know where she is. She is at Chorillos."
Dick's attempt to reduce the force of the blow
to the Marquis partly succeeded. Then he ex-
plained what he knew while Don Christobal, rag.
ing in his corner, swore to kill with his own


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
121
hands every Quichua in the country. Little
Christobal, understanding only that his sister
was lost, sobbed bitterly.
But what had given the others 'the alarm?
The Marquis explained that Aunt Agnes and
Irene, going to church for the evening angelus,
found that the Golden Sun bracelet had been
stolen from the shrine of the Virgin of San Do-
mingo. They had returned home in a panic, to
find the Marquis nearly distracted with fear.
Going to his club for the first time in a week, he
had there found an anonymous letter warning
him to watch over his daughter day and night
throughout the Interaymi. This letter, a twin
of the one received at Cajamarca, had been wait-
ing some days. It particularly warned him not
to allow his daughter to go to Callao on Satur-
day. It was then seven o'clock, and going home
to find that neither Maria-Teresa nor Dick were
back, he had at once rushed to Callao. Little
Christobal, refusing to listen to orders, had fol.
lowed his father and Uncle Francis.
Dick listened like one demented. He was
silent, but his mind was in a turmoil. To think
of such a thing! In a country where people used
telephones and traveled by rail! It was too hor.
rible, too incredible, yet horribly credible.
There was no doubt in his mind now as to the
reasons for the abduction.


122
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
Natividad, closely questioned by the Marquis,
finished by telling all he knew, and left them
little hope. While loth to cause pain, he could
not disguise certain facts. In a sense, too, he
was triumphant. A conscientious official, he
had once almost ruined his administrative career
by certain reports on Quichua customs, dealing
notably with the ritual murder of women and
children. He had been laughed at, and called a
lunatic — now the Red Ponchos were at work
again.
The silence of despair greeted his words.
Then, anxious to reassure them, the little old
gentleman insisted that the Indians could not go
far with their precious burden. All the defiles
of the sierra were held by Veintemilla's troops.
They would always give assistance to the police,
and the Indians were bound to run into them as
soon as they left the costa. The chief thing was
not to lose the trail.
They had now reached the point where the
railway line joined the highroad running par-
allel to the sea, and all eyes were fixed on the
great white band stretching out there in the
moonlight. At first, it was bordered by a few
tumble-down cabins and bamboo cottages, but
soon there was only the nakedness of a huge
sandy plain before them. Dick, the Marquis
and Natividad, grouped at the windows, searched


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
123
the night, while Uncle Francis took little Chris-
tobal in his arms and strove to console him.
But the boy insisted on being held up, that he
also might see out, moaning the while: “ Maria-
Teresa, Maria-Teresa! ... Why have they
taken my big sister? ... Maria Teresa!"
Suddenly, the same cry broke from them all:
“ The motor!” There it was, standing before
the gates of a lonely hacienda. Natividad al-
most tore out the emergency cord, and the train,
with a grinding of brakes, slowed down and then
stopped. They tumbled to the line, Natividad
shouting to the guard to go on, and send back
police, troops and horses as soon as they could.
Dick raced across the plain, while Natividad,
panting in the rear, called out to him to be care-
ful, and not to give the alarm. The young en-
gineer drew a revolver as he reached the motor,
ready to shoot down the first man he saw. But
there was nobody there. The car was empty,
and the courtyard of the hacienda showed de-
serted, peopled only by the blue shadows of
moonlight.
The gates were wide open, and he entered cau-
tiously. Some of the buildings round the court-
yard were in ruins; all were manifestly deserted.
On his right, the bodega, or store-house; on his
left, the proprietor's casa. Here again the doors
were open.


III
THE first two rooms were empty, but bore unmis-
takable signs of a desperate flight and struggle.
Then a landing, a door and a dark cupboard,
from which a loud cry for help now resounded
throughout the deserted hacienda. Dick, sign-
ing to the Marquis to turn the light into the cor-
ner, bent down, and dragged a body from the
cupboard. It was Libertad !
Covered with knife-wounds, the negro boy was
on the point of death, struggling for air. They
took him into the next room, and threw open the
windows, while Dick questioned him brutally.
“ Where is your mistress?” A feeble hand
pointed toward the sierra, and Dick stood away
from the dying man. That was all he wanted to
know. The Red Ponchos were already on the
road to the mountains with his fiancée.
He dashed down into the road to find Uncle
Francis with little Christobal. The boy, climb.
ing into the motor, had discovered his sister's
cloak there, and was crying over it. He threw.
himself into Dick's arms, but was roughly pushed
aside while the young engineer raged impotently.
125


126
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
What could he do? Anything for a horse, a
mule, something to carry on the pursuit! The
irony of it! That motor there, which had served
for the crime, was useless now on the narrow
rocky mountain pathway which they must fol-
low.
Then little Christobal, listening with wide-
open eyes, started. He had heard a noise at the
far end of the court. Could there be horses in
that deserted bodega? It sounded just like
hoofs stamping on a plank flooring. Then the
child heard a faint neigh.
Dick had vanished, and Christobal, running
toward the farm buildings, slipped through a
half-open door. Yes, there was something there
... llamas ... three llamas ... but thin, mis-
erable creatures, worn out by the heavy loads of
years, and incapable of carrying even a child.
But llamas do not neigh. The boy slipped round
the corner of the building, and stopped short in
the shadow. Sitting motionless a few yards
away was a horseman, watching the house. At
his stirrup, attentively immobile as the horse-
man, was a llama — one of those light, fine-
limbed, long-necked beasts which carry a man's
belongings and follow him like a dog.
As Christobal caught sight of them, the horse
shied. The rider reined it in, and swore, but his
oath was cut short by a shot. A shadow had


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
127
risen in the night, only a few feet away, and had
fired; the rider rolled from his saddle, while the
shadow, seizing the horse's bridle, swung itself
into his place. Little Christobal ran toward it.
“ Tell your father I've bagged one of them,"
shouted Dick, turning his mount and riding for
the sierra.
The child, without answering, ran after the
llama, which in its turn was following the horse.
His little fingers caught in its wool, he checked
it with the words one uses to llamas, scrambled
up and dashed after Dick. Uncle Francis, on
the roadway, was passed by two black streaks,
and left alone there, speechless.
Meanwhile, in the room on the first floor, Lib-
ertad was making his confession. Natividad
had realized, and had made the Marquis realize,
the great value to them which this might have.
Nor, to tell the truth, did he forget the value of
the Marquis as a witness to this confession,
which he regarded in the light of a valuable piece
of fresh evidence in his case against the Indians
generally. For this twofold reason, Natividad
was merciless, and forced the negro to speak till
his last breath.
This confession, made in gasps and groans,
built up by question and answer, and cut short
by death, showed clearly that the abduction had
been long planned, and that the daughter of the


128
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
Marquis de la Torre had been chosen as the vic-
tim of the Interaymi at least two months before
the festival. That was as clear as the wonderful
tropical night without.
Two months before, Libertad had first been
sounded, and he had not long resisted the temp-
tation of the money offered him. All he was
asked to do was to drive the motor to a certain
spot on a certain day, without looking to see
what was happening behind him. For this, he
was to receive two hundred silver soles, of which
fifty were paid to him in advance.
“And who did you make the bargain with ? "
demanded Natividad.
“ With a clerk from the Franco-Belgian bank ·
who sometimes came to see the señorita. His
name was Oviedo.”
Don Christobal started. Oviedo Huayna
Runtu, the intruder of the Cajamarca trip! If
he had planned to kidnap Maria-Teresa at Cal-
lao, that voyage must have been particularly dis-
agreeable to him. That would explain his close
watch over them, and perhaps also the hint to
the police at Cajamarca, wbich resulted in their
hasty return to Lima.
“When did you first know the date chosen ? "
questioned Natividad, holding up the negro, who
was choking.
“ This morning. Oviedo came to see me. He


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
129
told me that a man would say to me, " Dios anki
tiourata' ('good-day,' in Aſmara), and that I
was to obey that man. I was to take the wheel,
not turn my head, and drive where I was told to
go."
Libertad's story, told in jerky sentences,
showed that he did not really know until the
evening what had been plotted. Though he did
not move or look, the sound of the struggle at the
open window told him what was happening. It
was then too late to draw back, and, when the
order came, he drove the car to the calle San
Lorenzo, where they stopped for a minute before
a low door. Huascar came out, exchanged a few
words with the occupants of the machine, and
ordered him to take the Chorillos road, and not
to stop until he had reached Ondegarda's haci-
enda. There was not a sound behind him
throughout the journey.
At the hacienda, when his passengers got out,
he had instinctively glanced sideways, and had
seen the señorita, unconscious, being lifted out
by three dwarfs with horribly-shaped heads.
They took her into the casa, while he, more dead
than alive, waited where he was, anxious only
to be paid and to get away.
Then they were overtaken by a troop of
mounted Indians, all wearing red ponchos, and
led by Oviedo Huascar was also with them,


130
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
and ordered Libertad to come into the house.
To his surprise, he found there half a dozen
women, veiled in black, and guarding the door
to another room.
“ The mammaconas,” gasped Natividad. “We
can have no doubts now. ... Speak, Libertad.
... Speak, and God may forgive you.”
“Yes, the mammaconas," said the negro lad,
feverishly. ... “But I did not know. ... God
will forgive me. ... The señorita, too, will for-
give me. ... You must save her. ... She was
so good to me. . . . And I betrayed her ... be-
trayed her for two hundred silver soles. ...
They did not know I understood Aimara ...
they said that Atahualpa would have a beautiful
bride. . . . And they fell on their faces before
her when she passed.”
“You saw her, then?" demanded the Mar-
quis, bending low over the prostrate figure at his
feet to catch the faint words.
“ Yes, I saw her. . . . She was so good. ...
And I sold her for two hundred silver soles.”
“ Tell us how it happened,” interrupted Nati-
vidad. “Was she no longer unconscious?"
“She came out of the room, held up by women
in black veils ... the three dwarfs were danc-
ing around her. ... She seemed to be in a
dream ... they have terrible poisons and per-
fumes. ... My sweet señorita ... wrapped in


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
131
a gold veil ... her face was hidden . . . only
her eyes, staring sightlessly before her. ... The
mammaconas were all round her ... and the
dwarfs were dancing. I saw it all, because they
had left me alone, and I looked out of the win-
dow ... they put her on a mule ... in front
of one of the mammaconas ... and the others
followed. ... Yes, señor, it is true ... all
these stories you hear in the ranchos. ...
Quite true ... the dwarfs followed, señor. ...
Oviedo was there ... they had prepared every-
thing in this hacienda. . . . I believe they mur-
dered the owner and all his people. . i.
“Yes, I saw it all. . . . I did not care then
that I had not been paid. ... I watched. : ..
And the Red Ponchos carried off my mistress
... they are taking her to the Temple of the
Sun. . . . It is the Interaymi. . . . But you
will find them first. . . . You must. . . . And
God will forgive me.”
Libertad closed his eyes and fell back, but
seemed to recover his forces with the last flicker
of life, and opened them again.
“What happened to you?” asked Natividad.
“ Was it in trying to save your mistress? ..."
Libertad smiled bitterly, and tried to cross
himself, but his arm fell nerveless by his side.
“Huascar," he said. “He came into the
room, and when I asked him to pay me, pointed


132
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
to the two hundred silver soles ... they were
on the table there. ... Not one over. . . . It
was not much for betraying my mistress. ... I
did not know that was what they wanted. ...
When I told him so, he asked me what I would
have done if I had known. ... I answered I
would have asked double the amount. ..."
“ What then?”
“ Then he drew a knife and came at me. ...
I ran, but he followed. . . . He stabbed me once,
and I escaped, but he followed. ... I ran up-
stairs. . . . He stabbed me again and again.
... When I fell, he thought I was dead ...
and I am ... I am ... dying ... oh!...
Have mercy!”
Libertad's last moment had come. The Mar-
quis and Natividad, bending over him, were
startled by the shot outside, and rushed down-
stairs. They found Uncle Francis by the motor,
staring down the road. When they asked him
where Dick and little Christobal were, he gazed
back as if not understanding, and vaguely an-
swered that he was looking for them.
Don Christobal and Natividad, turning to
look in the direction the old scientist was star-
ing, suddenly saw two shadows dash across a
moonlit stretch of road and vanish in the dark-
ness of a ravine leading into the mountains, and
spanned above by the railway bridge. Dick on


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN 133
his horse, little Christobal on his llama, did not
even check for an instant at their hail.
Hardly had the hoof-beats died out in the
depths of the ravine than the sound of gallop-
ing horses came from the right, on the Chorillos
road. A moment later, a knot of riders ap-
peared.


IV
“ HORSES !” exclaimed Natividad. “Then we
have them. They are probably making for the
Cuzco, or some place round Titicaca. But they
are bound to pass through Veintemilla's lines,
and we shall catch them at Canete or Pisco.”
As Natividad had surmised, the riders were
cavalrymen sent out from Chorillos at his order.
They ran toward them, Uncle Francis question-
ing the Marquis, who did not answer. Indeed,
Don Christobal, doubly anxious now that his
son had left his side, could not contain himself.
Hardly had the troopers dismounted than he
swung himself into the nearest saddle, and rode
off after Dick.
“Sheer madness," growled Natividad. “If
they ever overhaul the Indians, they are lost.”
“ What are we going to do now?" demanded
Uncle Francis. Maria-Teresa's fate moved him
deeply, particularly from a literary point of
view, but under the circumstances he asked no
better than to keep a little in the background.
“We can only follow at a distance," replied
Natividad.
134


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
135
“Excellent ... excellent ... find out where
they are making for, and all that sort of thing."
“ There are still laws, a police force and troops
in Peru, señor. We are not afraid of the In-
dians.”
With which he turned to the four soldiers who
had joined them, and who represented what re-
mained of the military force on the costa. Uncle
Francis, already delighted with Natividad's plan
of following at a distance, approved of it even
more warmly when he found that this little es-
cort was to accompany them.
Three policemen mounted on mules, coming
from the direction of Callao, now appeared on
the road. Natividad at once requisitioned the
mules for his expedition. Before starting, how-
ever, he went back into the casa to write a hur-
ried letter to President Veintemilla, explaining
what had happened. He did so with a certain
malice, remembering that ten years ago this
same president had been Chief of Police, and had
threatened to suspend him for his “mad re-
ports.”
One of the policemen, entrusted with the let-
ter, started back toward Callao at once. The
two others were ordered to take charge at the
hacienda and begin a preliminary enquiry.
Then Natividad and Uncle Francis mounted two
of the commandeered mules, the third being


136
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
taken by the soldier whose horse had been car-
ried off by Don Christobal. When the soldiers
saw that they were heading for the sierra in-
stead of Chorillos, there was a grumble, but
Natividad silenced them. “Forward," he or-
dered, and they, in their turn, entered the ravine.
“We can, at all events, travel as fast as the
mammaconas," said the Chief of Police to Uncle
Francis.
" The mammaconas? Were they here then?”
The scientist, intensely interested, urged his
mount alongside Natividad's.
“Yes, señor ... the mammaconas . . . and
three head priests of the temple ... only they
may touch the Virgin of the Sun. ... Señor,
for the past fifteen years I have known all this,
but they called me a lunatic. Why should we
suppose that the Indians have changed? Do
they not eat, drink, and get married just as they
did five centuries ago? If their outward cus-
toms have not changed, why should their secret
rites have done so? Why, señor, why? ...
But nobody will believe me. It all began when
I was a young man. I had to investigate a mys-
terious crime, the only possible explanation for
which was a religious one. You must not forget
that you are dealing with Incas to this day. ...
And I got my knuckles rapped. ... Five years
later, when the Orellana girl disappeared, they


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
137
treated me in the same way. So I let them give
what explanation they liked, and worked on my
own. I speak Quichua like a native now, señor.
I also learned Aimara, which is their sacred
language in the Cuzco and round Titicaca. ...
That's where they are making for now; some
hidden temple, where their priests have been
working since the days of the conquest.”
Uncle Francis looked at his companion sus-
piciously. Were they all engaged in a huge
practical joke at his expense? This Chief of
Police was singularly calm under the circum-
stances; off-handed, almost gay.
“ We are sure to catch them, are we not?”
“Of a surety, señor. Dios mio, be content!
We will catch them. ... How can they possibly
escape? We are on their heels; if they stick to
the mountains, they run into our troops; if they
go down into the costa, every corregidor (mayor)
is at my orders.”
There was a moment's silence, and he went
on: -
“ Will you not put on that cloak at your sad-
dle-bow, señor? The nights are chilly, and we
are nearing the cordilleras. ... The only road,
you see. They must have passed here. At
dawn, we shall be able to see their trail dis-
tinctly. ... If only those crazy people who
dashed on ahead do not make fools of themselves.


138
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
... A plucky youngster, little Christobal. ...
We shall soon overhaul them. ... One does not
climb these mountains as a bull jumps over the
barrier at the ring. ..."
Natividad's garrulous flow of words was in.
terrupted by a chuckle from Uncle Francis.
Not a little astonished, he asked him what he
meant, but Mr. Montgomery contented himself
with replying:_“I understand, I understand.”
Natividad, who did not understand, eyed him
doubtfully.
Just before day-break they reached the first
masses of the true Andes. Their mounts did not
appear over-tired, and after a two-hours' halt at
a wayside guebrada, where beasts and men ob-
tained food, they continued the journey. Over
them towered the giant mountain chain, blazing
in the molten light of dawn. ·
The half-breeds at the guebrada could not, or
would not, give them any information as to those
they followed. That the Indian cavalcade had
not stopped there, however, was certain, or
larder and loft would have been empty. Nati-
vidad, convinced he would get nothing else out
of the men, forced them, in the name of “the
supreme government,” to exchange two strong
mules for two of the horses.
Shortly after they had started again, they
came on unmistakable traces of a strong party


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
141
dad's growing amazement:-“But why insist on
their coming with us? We can find those other
Indians just as well without their aid.”
Natividad jumped. What kind of a man was
this? Then his attention was suddenly drawn
to the road again.
“ There, over there! They camped there.”
At this point, the mountain path widened to
a kind of little plateau, on which were unmis-
takable traces of a recently-pitched camp. The
ashes of the fire had not yet been swept away by
the wind, and remains of food littered one cor-
ner. Natividad, convinced that he had found
the first resting-place of the escort or the Virgin
of the Sun, urged on his party.
“ It is strange,” he said, “ that we should have
seen nothing yet of the Marquis, little Christo-
bal, or your nephew."
“Why worry? We'll find them all, sooner or
later."
“ What?"
“ Sooner or later - some day. ... Hello,
what's the matter? This beast of mine won't
move. Gee up."
Calm and collected, quite different from the
frightened Mr. Montgomery of the flight from
Cajamarca, he urged on his mount, but the mule
refused to answer to his heel. Then Natividad,
pressing forward to see what was the matter, saw


142 THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
the body of a llama stretched across the narrow
path. Dismounting, he lifted its head, exam-
ined the nostrils, and then pushed the body over
the edge of the ravine.
« Little Christobal's llama,” he pronounced.
“ The animal has been ridden to death. ...
Poor child! I wonder where he is.”
Uncle Francis, busy with his note-book, re.
fused to get excited.
“With my nephew, probably. Even if Dick
had left him behind, his father must have come
upon him."
“That is possible, of course,” said Natividad,
doubtfully.
“ Is this llama-riding common over here?”
questioned the scientist, intent on acquiring
knowledge.
“No. Children sometimes amuse themselves
with it if the llama is willing. Rich people give
them to their sons occasionally. Christobal
probably had his."
“I would never have believed a llama capable
of going so far, and so fast.”
“No pack-llama could. But that was a good
one, trained to carry light weights and travel
fast. Probably used to being ridden by chil-
dren. ... I wonder where they found it. ...
Your nephew's horse, too ... in the hacienda


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
143
stables, I suppose. ... A tragedy might have
been avoided had they not.”
The little party had ridden on, and now, tak-
ing a sharp corner, came suddenly upon Dick
and the Marquis, the former on foot, and the
latter mounted. Little Christobal was not
there.


DICK was pale, but the Marquis was livid. So
they appeared to Natividad; as to Uncle Fran-
cis, he had not his glasses on, and noticed noth-
ing disquieting in their appearance.
“Those scoundrels have both my children
now," groaned Don Christobal in answer to
Natividad's eager questions, and told what had
happened.
Badly mounted for mountain roads, the Mar-
quis had found great difficulty in following
Several times he had been on the point of aban-
doning his horse, but, thinking it might be valu-
able later on, had kept to it. Once or twice he
had been obliged to dismount and drag the un-
willing beast behind him. At dawn, he reached
the Indians' camp, which he searched in vain for
some personal sign of his daughter. She was
evidently too well guarded. Finally he found the
llama's body, but being convinced that Dick was
with little Christobal, had not worried over-
much. Then, a little further on, he found Dick,
but alone.
Dick, powerless to interfere, had seen little
Christobal carried off by the same Indians who
144


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
145
already held Maria-Teresa. When they started
on their wild ride, and as soon as the road be.
came steeper, the llama had rapidly outpaced
Dick's horse. Little Christobal, riding it hard,
would not stop, and soon vanished ahead. Two
hours later, Dick had lost his horse in a ravine,
throwing himself from the saddle only just in
time, and narrowly saying his own life by cling-
ing to a projecting rock. He continued his pur-
suit on foot, and finally came in sight of the boy,
just as the llama, exhausted, burst a blood-vessel
and fell. He had called to little Christobal, but
the boy, unheeding, had run on, crying, “ Maria-
Teresa! Maria-Teresa !”
They were right on the Indians then, and Dick
could see them far above him on the zig-zagging
mountain-path. They had checked their horses,
waiting for the boy to catch up to them. Then
one of the Red Ponchos bent down, lifted him
up to his saddle-bow, and hurried on with his
new captive. Dick was too far away to open
fire, and the Indians had at once spurred on,
soon leaving him far behind. The Marquis had
come up a short time after. .
“ You must not despair, Don Christobal,"
urged Natividad. “ Your news is not all bad.
They are only just ahead, and cannot escape us.
They must pass through Huancavelica, and there
we have troops to help us."


146
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
Natividad ordered one of the soldiers to dis-
mount and give his mule to Dick. The man was
indignant, and continued protesting in a weird
jargon as he trotted afoot behind the cavalcade.
In this manner they reached a point where the
road forked, one branch going on up into the
hills, the other stretching down toward the coast.
They had all turned up the former when the dis-
mounted soldier turned — he would go no fur-
ther, but would descend to the coast; and once
there he would report to the powers the manner
in which he had been treated by a mere civilian.
Natividad wished him an ironical good-by, and
he started, but only to reappear a moment later,
waving a soft felt hat in his hand.
“ That belongs to Christobal !” exclaimed the
Marquis.
They turned their mounts, grateful for the
chance-found sign which had saved them from a
grievous mistake. Natividad alone hesitated,
wondering whether this was not an Indian ruse.
They advanced slowly therefore, until the mud
and sand on the banks of a torrent just below
showed beyond doubt that a large number of
mounted men had passed that way and restored
Natividad's serene belief in the ultimate success
of their search.
“ So they're doubling back to the costa. They
must have been warned that the passes were


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
147
guarded ... all they have gained by the detour
is avoiding Chorillos. . . . Perhaps they are
making for Canete. ... Well, they must stop
somewhere, and then we have them!”
After an hour's rest, they hurried on again at
top speed, one of the soldiers giving his dis-
mounted comrade a lift behind.
“ Did you, then, ever think that we might not
catch them?” asked Uncle Francis of Natividad,
with an enigmatical smile.
“Why not, señor? ... Between you and me,
it is about time we did catch them. ... I for
one shall not feel happy if Señorita de la Torre
and the boy are still in their hands on the last
day of the Interaymi.”
“Do you mean that the boy is in danger?”
“Speak lower, señor, speak lower. ... Noth-
ing is too young, too beautiful or too innocent
for the Sun. Do you understand?"
“ More or less. More or less."
“ You people do not know what horrors they
are capable of. ... They still have their priests.
... You might blink at facts if it were only the
ordinary Red Ponchos, but there are also those
three monsters. . . . You always find them to-
gether in the old burial-grounds. . , . When one
dies, the other two are put to death. ..Or
when a king died, they sacrificed themselves on
his tomb, ... They still exist, those monsters,


148
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
those high-priests of the sacred slaughters. ...
They exist, señor."
“Do they?”
“ You, señor, are a savant, and know about
the Temple of Death. But do you know how
many dead were found buried with the mummy
of Huayna Capac? Four thousand, señor!
Four thousand human lives sacrificed to honor
the dead — some by suicide, others strangled,
knifed or suffocated. ... And the House of the
Serpent. . . . But I prefer not to tell you what
happened there."
“ Tell me some other day. . . . You make an
admirable guide. When we return, I will tell
the supremo gobernio how grateful I am to them
for having made the most erudite of police of-
ficers my cicerone.”
“I beg your pardon, señor?”
Natividad, completely taken aback, could only
stare at his interlocutor.
“ Nothing, nothing! I am only joking!"
Scandalized at such levity, Natividad turned
away with an indignant snort, while Uncle Fran-
cis chuckled. That worthy gentleman had now
quite made up his mind that there was a plot
afoot against him, and sternly refused to be
“ taken in.” The joke was rather tiring physic-
ally, but he would not cry for mercy. As to all
these hair-raising stories, he would take them


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN 149
for what they were worth. Let them play their
pranks till they tired of them.
The more he thought of it, the more he be-
came convinced of the truth of his deductions.
His antiquarian's eye rested lovingly on the
traces of that long-dead Inca civilization which
they met. Here, aqueducts that would have
made the Romans wonder; there, remains of the
great road which ran from end to end of South
America. They were all dead, those Incas.
Yet these people wished to make him believe that
those vanished warriors and priests had carried
off a boy and girl of to-day to offer them as a sac-
rifice to equally-forgotten gods!
They had now left the arid ranges and dusty
wind behind them, and reached a little village
nestling in green fields at the foot of the moun-
tain. A babbling stream, tumbling down from
the Cordilleras, had transformed this corner into
an oasis of verdure, in which Uncle Francis
would willingly have passed a few hours. But
now that they were in flat country again, Dick,
the Marquis and Natividad increased the pace
feverishly. Uncle Francis, still determined not
to show that he had fathomed their plot, was
careful not to protest.
Once or twice, they stopped to ask questions,
but it was difficult to obtain information. Ham-
lets were rare, and the Interaymi festivals had


150
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
drawn away nearly the whole population. The
few Indians they met received their questions
with evident suspicion, and even hostility. Nor
would money loosen their tongues.
Fortunately, there were half-breeds more
ready to talk, and they learned that Huascar and
his companions were riding hard. Nobody had
seen Red Ponchos; presumably the priests had
concealed the ceremonial raiment imposed by
their ritual for the reception of the Bride of the
Sun. They were traveling so fast that nobody
had had time to notice whether they had a cap-
tive boy or young woman with them. At the
questions on this score all their informants
began to grow uneasy, and turned away with
evasive sentences.
Huascar and his men had about two hours'
start, but it soon became evident that they were
gaining ground steadily. Natividad could not
fathom the meaning of the Indians' sudden turn
toward the sea, this riding into a town where,
normally, everything must be against them if the
alarm was given.
They reached Canete at nightfall, Dick still
leading. There was a big fête on, with torch-
light processions and the deafening noise of fire-
works set off by delirious roisterers. Half the
native population was under the influence of
drink, and Natividad, trained to understand the


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
151
populace, at once saw that the town was in a
state of dangerous effervescence.
Of all the towns in Peru, Canete is perhaps the
one which shows most markedly that strange ad-
mixture of the new and old. Factory chimneys
tower to the sky side by side with Inca aque-
ducts which to this day bring the water of the
Rio Canete to the surrounding plantations.
Just above the town are still the remains of the
huge native fortress demolished some two hun-
dred years ago by the then viceroy of Mandelova
when he needed materials for the defenses of
Callao.
Natividad's first visit was to the corregidor,
who told him that the town was celebrating
Garcia's victories. It was now certain that the
rebels had captured Cuzco, and routed the Fed-
eral forces. Natividad then told him of the
plight of the Marquis de la Torre's children.
The Mayor was skeptical, and showed it. In-
dians committing such a crime, he said, would
never have dared pass through a town.
“ They could not stop in the Sierra,” said Nati-
vidad, “and had to make for somewhere. Per-
haps they intend taking boat, and reaching Are-
quipa by sea. They could get up into the Cuzco
that way."
“That is more than possible," replied the cor-
regidor, anxious to rid himself of the trouble-


152
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
some visitor. “A troop of strange Indians has,
in fact, passed through the town. They bought
provisions, and then hurried on to Pisco. They
might have a boat ready there. ... Personally,
I can do nothing for you. I haven't a single sol.
dier or policeman to dispose of. They have all
gone to fight Garcia.”
At this moment, an extraordinary procession
passed under the corregidor's windows. A danc-
ing, singing procession, at the head of which
Natividad recognized his four troopers. He
opened the window and shouted menaces, but
they passed unheeding.
In a sad mood Natividad rejoined his compan-
ions. Without any explanation, he told them
they must follow to Pisco, and they started
again. Natividad, in a brown study meanwhile,
would answer no questions.
Don Christobal, hearing that the Indians
were making for Pisco, grew hopeful. He was
known in the town, having a branch business
there, with big guano depôts, stores in the har-
bor, and a considerable coolie station on the
Chincha Islands, which are just off the town.
There he could speak with authority, and make
the corregidor listen.
They reached Pisco dog-tired, on mounts that
could hardly stand. Uncle Francis alone dis-


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
153
played a calm and unconcern which would have
convinced the others he was mad, had they had
time to notice him. The news of Garcia's vic-
tory had just reached Pisco, and the mob was
even more delirious than that of Canete.
The Marquis, taking the leadership, led the
way to his depôt and stores, only to find them
completely deserted. There was not a single
employee there to answer his questions.
“ To the corregidor's, then," he ordered.
The four travelers had entered the main and
only street of the town, and were riding toward
the sandy central square when a thundering
feu de joie made them pull up. The Indians
were burning the sacred maize-leaf in honor of
Garcia, to the grave danger of the little blue-
and-white houses around. The inhabitants of
these, well-to-do half-breeds, had locked them-
selves in, or taken to flight.
The madness of alcohol and the madness of
fire crackers had taken firm hold of all that was
visible of the population. The mob had pillaged
a pisco distillery, and was enjoying itself thor-
oughly with that virulent spirit, which is made
from a kind of Malaga grape, and takes its name
from the town.
Natividad, casting round for a guide, found a
half-breed sadly huddled under a doorway. He


154
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
doubtless was one of those who had something
to lose by the rioting; a house to be burned, or
a cellar to be plundered.
“ Follow me,” he said, when asked where the
corregidor could be found.
He led them along a plank pavement which
was just beginning to burn, until they reached
the corner of the arena, opposite the church.
Four skinny palms adorned the center of the
square, and at the foot of one of these a mob was
dancing round a fire. Above, something was
hanging from a branch. The half-breed pointed
to that thing.
“ There is the corregidor,” he said.
Natividad, Dick and the Marquis stopped
short, mute with horror. The half-breed whis-
pered a few rapid words to Natividad, who
turned to run.
“ Come on! Come on!” he almost screamed.
“ Why this hurry?" demanded Uncle Francis,
phlegmatically.
“Why? Why? ... Because they are going
to eat him!”
“Not really? ” drawled the scientist with
mediocre interest. “Right away?".
But Natividad did not notice his tone. He
was really running away, for he had not forgot-
ten a scene in Lima, when the Guttierg brothers
were torn from the presidency they had usurped





AREQUIPA was en fête; the entire population of
the city and its campina (suburbs) was packed
in the main square and the adjacent streets to
witness the triumphal return of the victor of the
Cuzco — brave General Garcia, who had already
been christened “the good Dictator" and who
had promised his partizans that within a fort-
night he would sweep out of the country Presi.
dent Veintemilla, the two Chambers, and the
whole parliamentary system which, he declared,
had ruined Peru.
This was language the Arequipinos loved and
understood. Politics had always flourished in
that part of the country, and all revolutions
began there. And the turbulent inhabitants of
Arequipa felt that it was a terribly long time
since they had had a “savior" to cheer.
Now they had one; a particularly pictur-
esque one, who was to appear on horseback. So
they had all donned their Sunday clothes, and
the women had flowers in their hair and more
flowers in their arms to scatter before the hero.
The Indian population, having sold its hens and
ed the to, and annourished
159


160 THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
wa
vegetables in the market-place, joined the
throng.
The square, for the occasion, seemed to have
straightened out its tumble-down arcades, badly
shaken by the last earthquake. The illusion
was aided by brilliant-hued carpets, flags, ban-
ners and festoons which blazed in all directions
and gave new life to the dilapidated walls. The
cracked old towers of the church, the carved
wooden balconies, flower-adorned galleries, and
decorated windows were black with people.
Above the city rose the Misti, one of the world's
highest volcanoes, wearing a fresh cap, glisten-
ing with the snows of the night.
Bells chimed and cannons roared out. Then
came silence, broken again by the sound of
bugles and the roar of a thousand voices. The
procession of the troops had begun. Contrary
to European custom, it commenced with all the
impedimenta of the camp. It was like a rout:-
Indians leading mules loaded down with bag.
gage, provisions, and kitchen utensils; then a
regiment of women bent under the weight of
knapsacks, babies, and sacks of food.
The crowd cheered everything wildly, from the
llamas loaded with captured Federal arms to the
women, the rabonas, as they are called out there.
These rabonas are a precious institution from
the point of view of the Peruvian soldier; each


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
161
man has his own, and she carries his baggage,
buys all his food, and prepares his meals.
Then came the troops, Garcia, leading.
Mounted on a splendid horse, wearing a brilliant
uniform, he appeared like a star of the first mag-
nitude in the constellation of his staff. A tall
man, he showed head and shoulders above
the generals and colonels prancing around him.
His tri-color plumes waved splendidly in the
wind, and the deafening rant of bugles accom-
panied him. Handsome, radiant, happy was he,
nonchalantly curling his black mustache and
smiling on all with brilliant white teeth.
Garcia smiled to the ladies as he passed under
their balconies, and the ladies, showering down
rose-leaves over horse and rider, called him by
his Christian name, Pedro. In this triumphal
fashion, he slowly rode round the square twice,
and then came to a halt in the middle of it, be-
tween two guns, his staff behind him and, before
him, two Indians bearing a standard, a quaint
patch-work quilt of a flag, which was the token of
submission of all the tribes to the new govern-
ment. These men wore hats covered with varie-
gated plumes, and had over their shoulders sur-
plice-like tunics.
Five hundred infantrymen and two hundred
horse had formed round the square. Young girls,
clad in floating tunics and wearing Garcia's


162
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
colors, advanced toward the general, their hands
heavy with floral crowns. One of them made a
little speech, while Garcia continued curling
his mustache and showing his teeth. The
speech over, he gallantly bent down and took all
the crowns, passing them over his arm. Then
he lifted a hand to command silence.
“ Long live Liberty!” he shouted. A hurri-
cane of cheers arose. Again he lifted up the
crown-charged arm, and again there was silence.
He told them the program of the new Govern-
ment. “Liberty for all, except for evil-doers!
With such a program, is there any need for par-
liaments ?” “No! No! No!” roared the
crowd deliriously. “ Long live Garcia! Death
to Veintemilla! Muera! Muera! Muera el
lagron de salitre! (Death to the saltpetre
thief!),” for Veintemilla was popularly supposed
to have largely profited by some recent conces-
sions.
Garcia was an orator, and, wishing to show it
once again, told in a few words the history of
the campaign that had ended in the rout of the
“saltpetre thieves” on the Cuzco plains. To be
seen and heard by all, he stood erect in his stir-
rups.
Then an incredible thing happened. The pow-
ers above actually dared spoil this splendid fête
- it began to rain! There was a general rush for


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
163
shelter in the crowd. Even the infantrymen lin-
ing the square broke their ranks, while the cav-
alrymen dismounted, took off their saddles and
loaded them on their heads in guise of umbrellas.
As to those soldierly ladies, the rabonas, they
calmly threw their bell-shaped petticoats over
their heads.
Garcia alone did not move. Furious at this
spoiling of his triumph, he threatened his officers
with immediate death if they dared leave his
side. He did not even fall back into his saddle,
but stood erect there, his crown-charged arm
menacing the heavens.
Then the Chief of Staff approached the Dic-
tator, saluted thrice, and said:
“Excellency, it is not the fault of the sky.
The sky would not have dared! The roar of
your guns compelled the clouds, Excellency.”
“ You are right,” replied Garcia. “And since
the guns did the harm, let them repair it.”
With which, a battery was rolled out into the
square, and opened fire on the clouds. They
thundered on until the short tropical storm had
passed. Then Garcia, triumphant, shouted:
“ I have had the last word with the heavens!”
The review was over.
-
*--.
maa -
min.


II
WATCHING the proceedings from a window at
the “ Jockey Club Hotel ” were the Marquis de
la Torre and Natividad, both wild with impa-
tience, for their only hope now lay in Garcia.
At Pisco, they had ended by discovering that
the Bride of the Sun's escort had embarked in
the very steam-tug used to tow the Marquis' own
barges from the Chincha Islands to Callao.
This once again proved that the scheme had
been well thought out and prepared long in ad-
vance, the Indians about Maria-Teresa being in
the plot.
Securing a boat in their turn, the pursuers
followed to Mollendo. There they took the
train, and reached Arequipa only a few hours
after the Red Ponchos — Uncle Francis still
supernaturally calm, and Natividad beginning to
despair of everything.
Chance favored them when they landed in this
city of mad people, who would not even trouble
to answer questions. Dick recognized Huascar
strolling through the streets, and tracked him to
the house where Maria-Teresa and her brother
were kept prisoners. This was a low adobe
164


166
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
nessed Garcia's triumph alone. Uncle Francis
had been lost, or rather, had been left alone in
the middle of the street, staring up at the Misti.
He was now doubtless in the crowd somewhere,
taking notes.
Garcia in all his glory was a sight which did
not please the Marquis.
“I never thought he was that kind of man,"
he commented, “ though I always suspected he
had negro blood in his veins."
“Drunk with success," replied Natividad
drily.
After the review, they followed the Dictator
and his staff only to find their way barred by
troops at the road leading down to the head-
quarters. Here the Marquis ordered the men
out of the way with such insolence, and spoke
with such assurance of “his friend Garcia,” that
he was allowed to pass, Natividad clinging to
his sleeve.
The subaltern in command at the guard-room
took the Marquis' card, and a moment later they
were ushered upstairs. There were soldiers
everywhere, some of them fast asleep on the
staircase, their guns between their knees, so that
the visitors had to pick their way upstairs over
prostrate bodies.
Finally, their guide pushed open a door and
ushered them into a bedroom, where Garcia was


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
167
presiding over a meeting of the Cabinet he had
appointed the previous day. Some of these high
functionaries were seated on the Dictator's bed,
others on the table, and one on a bundle of soiled
linen.
They were received more than courteously.
Garcia, who was in his shirt-sleeves, and shav-
ing, ran toward the Marquis with both hands
outstretched, scattering white flakes from his
shaving-brush as he came.
“Forgive me, señor," he said. “Antique sim-
plicity! Antique simplicity! ... I receive you
as I would a friend ... for I trust you come as
a friend, as a friend of the new Government.
Let me introduce you.”
He began with the Minister of War, who was
astride the bolster, and finished up with the Min-
ister for Posts and Telegraphs, a hideous half-
breed chewing cocoa-nut leaves.
“ No fuss, you see,” babbled on Garcia. “An-
tique simplicity. Cato, and all that sort of
thing. . . . Nothing like antiquity, sir, to make
men. ... The good padres taught us that, and
I took the lesson to heart." He laughed. “ All
that show is for outside ... the crowds like it.
You must amuse the crowd! ... Did you see
my review? Splendid, wasn't it? . . . Magnifi-
cent soldiers. . . . And the rain. Did you see
what I did? Effective, eh?”


168
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
During all this verbiage, Garcia was thinking
hard, and watching the new-comers' faces. He
was far from being a fool. Were they, or were
they not, ambassadors from Veintemilla?
Would he accept a compromise, if they came to
offer it? In a moment his mind was made up;
he would refuse, and risk everything on the re-
sult of this rising, his large fortune and his life
included.
At last the Marquis was able to speak.
“I have come to ask the assistance of the
master of Peru.”
At these words the Dictator, who was washing
the soap from his face, looked up in surprise
over a towel. He knew that the Marquis was a
personal friend of Veintemilla Natividad
looked away uneasily, for he was compromising
himself horribly.
“ The master of Peru,” repeated the Marquis,
“whose motto is Liberty for all. I want him
to restore to me my two children, who have been
stolen.”
“ Stolen! What do you mean, señor? Those
who have done this thing shall be punished. I
swear it by my ancestor, Pedro de la Vega, who
gave his life for the True Faith, and was killed
by the infidels in the year of grace 1537 at the
Battle of Xauxa, in which he received seventeen


170
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
Wn
this happened in Callao. Veintemilla is still
master there, and you must go to him.”
“ They are now in this very city, imprisoned
in a house which is guarded by your own troops."
“ That is not possible. I should have known
it. But if by some extraordinary fact this is so,
you have not done wrong in coming to me.”
“I knew I would not appeal to you in vain.
As long as I live, I shall not forget this service.
I have friends in Lima, señor! And this gentle-
man also," he pointed to Natividad. “ The po-
lice of Callao is yours. ... Only accompany us
to the gates of the city, and set my children free,
and my life and my fortune are yours."
“I am afraid I cannot come myself, for I am
expecting the British Consul. But I will send
my Minister for War with you. You will find
him just as useful.” Garcia turned and
whistled for the dignitary in question, who
seemed in no hurry to move. “Go and see what
is happening,” he ordered, “and let me know.
... I believe you are in error, gentlemen, but I
will do what I can for you.”
Don Christobal and Natividad went out, fol.
lowed by the Minister, whose enormous spurs
made the hall and staircase echo. Garcia closed
the door.
“I wonder what it all means,” he mused aloud,
evidently much put out. “ Ten to one, Oviedo


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN 171
Runtu is in it. If he really has carried off
Señorita de la Torre, the outlook for us at Lima
is bad.”
The door opened, and an officer announced the
British Consul. This official was a big trades-
man of the town, who had secured the commis-
sariat contracts to Garcia's army by promising
him the support of Great Britain.
Garcia began to speak of his soldiers, and the
consul put in that the worth of an army resided
more in the general who commanded it than in
the men themselves. His compliment provoked
a self-satisfied bow from Garcia, but he made the
mistake of trying to improve it, and added :
“ For, between you and me, Excellency, those
troops of yours are not worth much, and if you
had not been there to ..."
“Not worth much! What the devil do you
mean! Do you know what kind of fighting they
have been doing in the mountains? Not worth
much, indeed! Did you see a single lag-
gard ..."
“No, but the guard are all sound asleep now.”
“Asleep!” Garcia swore, and ran to the
door.


III
GARCIA opened the door, and looked down the
staircase, where he both heard and saw his
guards sleeping. Pale with anger, the Dictator
woke them, and ordered the officer to muster his
men on the landing.
“My soldiers never sleep!” he declared to the
consul. “Look at them. Do they look as if
they wanted sleep? . . . Come, my lads, a little
exercise to keep you fit. Out of that window
with you all!”
His outstretched arm pointed to the bedroom
window, nearly five yards above the ground.
The poor hussars looked at him, hesitated, and
jumped. Remained only the officer.
“Well, and what are you waiting for, major?
You should be with your men.”
Then, as the officer did not move, he seized him
round the waist, and threw him out of the win-
dow. The watching ministers and the consul,
anxious not to take the same route, laughed
heartily at the jest, and went to look into the
courtyard. Those of the soldiers who had
landed more or less safely were picking up three
172


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN 173
comrades with broken legs. The officer was be-
ing carried off, his skull fractured.
Just as this interlude ended, the Minister for
War returned, still followed by the Marquis and
Natividad.
“Well?" asked Garcia, closing the window.
“ The Red Ponchos," replied the Minister,
looking meaningly at his illustrious chief.
“ Oviedo Runtu quartered them there, and added
a few soldiers to the guard. They leave to-mor-
row night for the Cuzco."
“What else?” Garcia was nervously twist-
ing his mustache.
“They know nothing of the young lady and
the little boy."
“Excellency,” burst in the Marquis, who could
contain himself no longer, “ you must have that
house searched. I know they are in it. You
cannot allow those scoundrels to go free! Your
name would be tarnished for ever if you did such
a thing! It would make you the accomplice of
murderers! ... On you depend the life of my
son, the only heir of a great name which in the
past has always fought for civilization, side by
side with yours, and of my daughter, whom you
once loved.”
The latter consideration might have had little
effect on the Dictator, who did not believe in
confusing love and politics, but the sentence be-


174
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
fore, appealing to his sentiments as the repre-
sentative of “ a great name" moyed him power-
fully. He turned bruskly to his Minister for
War.
“ But you must have seen something. I pre-
sume you searched the house?”
“If I forced that house, Excellency, every one
of our Quichua soldiers would rise. Runtu has
only to make a sign, and they cut all our throats.
That house is sacred, for the Red Ponchos and
the mammaconas are escorting the sacred im-
prints' from Cajamarca to the Cuzco for the In-
teraymi fêtes. It is impossible, Excellency."
One look from the Dictator drove all his min-
isters from the room. When the door had closed
on the last one, he turned to the Marquis.
“If your children are in that house, señor, it
is terrible . .. but I can do nothing for you."
Don Christobal staggered under the blow, and
leaned against the wall.
“ Listen, Garcia,” he said in a strangled voice,
“ if this horrible crime is allowed, I shall make
you personally responsible for it before the civ-
ilized world.”
He reeled, almost on the point of fainting.
Garcia ran to his side, and held him up, but Don
Christobal seemed to regain his forces at once.
“ Hands off, you general of murderers!” he
shouted.


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
175
Garcia went white, while the Marquis walked
toward the door, turning his back on the Dic-
tator though he expected to be stabbed at any
moment. But Garcia controlled himself, and
his lisping voice checked Don Christobal in sur.
prise.
“Do not go yet, señor. I can do nothing for
you, but I can at all events give you some ad-
vice.”
Don Christobal turned, but ignored the hand
which waved to a chair, and waited. He had
already wasted too much time here.
“ Speak, sir," he said ; " time passes.”
“Have you any money? " asked Garcia
bruskly.
“ Money? What for? To ..." He was on
the point of saying “ to bribe you,” but stopped
at a suppliant look from Natividad, who was
signing desperately to him from behind the Dic-
tator's back.
Garcia, remembering there was somebody else
in the room, took Natividad by the arm, and put
him out of the room without a word. Then he
sat down at a little table loaded with papers,
rested his head in his hands, and began to speak
in an undertone, without looking at the Mar-
quis, still standing and suspicious..
“I can do nothing for you against the Red
Ponchos and the mammaconas. Their house, or


176
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
their temporary quarters, must be sacred, for
they have the relics of Atahualpa with them.
You say your children are in that house as well.
That may be, but I am helpless to prove or dis-
prove it. It is horrible, I agree, but I am power-
less. You say that my soldiers are guarding the
house? That is not true. I am nobody in all this.
Who put them there? Oviedo Runtu. They are
Oviedo Runtu's soldiers."
He paused for a moment.
“ Who is Oviedo Runtu? A bank-clerk whom
you may have had dealings with at Lima? Yes,
and no. He is a bank clerk, but he is also the
master of every Quichua in the country. Yes,
he dresses like a European, and earns a humble
living among us, but meanwhile he is studying
all our institutions, our financial methods, all
our secrets. He earns two hundred soles a
month behind a counter, and he is perhaps a
king. I don't know.
“ King or not, all the Quichua and Aimara
chiefs are his slaves. Huascar, your former
servant, is his right hand. ... If you ask me, a
man who has dreamed the regeneration of his
race! That's what he is. ... When I was pre-
paring this revolt at Arequipa, Huascar came
and offered me Oviedo Runtu's aid, and I ac-
cepted the alliance because I could not do other-
wise. Do you understand now? It is not I, but


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
177.
Oviedo Runtu. ... He is in your way, as he is
in mine. . . . And, believe me, I am as sorry
for you as for myself.”
“ That's the man. I can see his hand in it
all."
nan
“As I said before, force is out of the question.
But though I cannot fight the Red Ponchos, you
can bribe them. They are Quichuas, and any
Indian can be bought. That is why I asked if
you had any money."
“No, I have none,” replied the Marquis, who
had been listening to the Dictator eagerly.
“ We left in a hurry, and I had not time to think
of it.”
“Fortunately, though, I have."
Garcia whistled in a certain manner, and the
Minister for Finance came in.
“ Where is the war chest?”
“ Under the bed, Excellency.” The Minister
went down on his knees, and dragged an iron-
bound box to Garcia's side.
“ You may go now.”
When they were alone again, Garcia took a
little key from his pocket, opened the box, and
took out a bundle of bank-notes, which he threw
on the table. Locking the box, he pushed it
under the bed again, picked up the notes, and
handed them to the Marquis.
“ Count them afterwards, and pay me back in


178
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
Lima, when I am President. There is enough
there to bleach every Red Poncho in existence.
They are gentlemen who know the value of those
little pieces of paper. Oviedo Runtu himself
probably taught them. Good-by, señor, and
good luck."
“ Excellency,” said the Marquis, forgetting
that a moment before he had called this man a
murderer, “I do not thank you ... but if I
succeed ..."
“Yes, yes, I know . . . your life and fortune
are mine."
“ One word more. I shall try to bribe your
troopers with the rest."
“By all means! By all means ! ”
“And if we fail, Excellency, I warn you that
weak as we are, desperate as the venture may be,
we shall attack those priests and their escort.
Can we count on your neutrality ? "
“ Most certainly. And if by chance you injure
Oviedo, I shall not have you hauled up before a
court-martial!”
They shook hands, and the Marquis ran out.
As he crossed the threshold, Garcia shrugged
his shoulders.
“ His daughter is lost, but he, the fool, has
been bought by me. All this would not have
happened if she had married me.”
At the bottom of the staircase, the Marquis


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
179
found Natividad waiting anxiously. In the
street, they met Dick, who had come to look for
them. He was pale and agitated, and it was evi-
dent that some extraordinary event had made
him leave his post.
“What has happened?” asked the Marquis.
“ Back to the inn, quick! We must decide on
some course of action. What did Garcia say?"
“ That he could do nothing for us. But he
gave me money and a piece of advice that may
save them. But what made you leave your post?
Are they still there?”
“ Yes. Only one person has left the house.
Huascar. I followed, determined to corner him,
and kill him like a dog, if need be. He went
straight to our inn, and asked for you. They
told him you had gone out, but were returning.
He then said he would wait, so I came to fetch
you.”
“ They are saved !” exclaimed Don Christobal.
“ Why else should Huascar come to see me?"
“I don't like the man, and don't believe in
him. You must not forget that you have to do
with a fanatic, and one who owes Maria-Teresa
a grudge.”
“My wife found him starving in the street,
and gave him shelter. I cannot believe he has
altogether forgotten that. . .. I have always
thought he was in the whole business against his


180
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
as
P
.
will, and determined to save Maria-Teresa sooner
or later. Hurry!”
“I hope you're right, but I don't believe it,"
replied Dick. “We'll have him cornered in a
minute, and if he doesn't answer my questions
properly, he'll be sorry."
“ You must not forget, Dick, that they have
hostages."
“Hostages which they will massacre even if
we let Huascar go free, sir! I would give any.
thing to wring his neck!”
“And I, boy, would give anything to save my
children."
The Marquis' tone was so icy that Dick re-
frained from further comment.
Just before they reached the inn, Natividad
noticed on the opposite pavement a tall old man
leaning on a shepherd's crook, and watching the
door through which Huascar had entered. A
ragged cloak hung over his thin shoulders, and
a straggling white beard framed a face so white
that it was deathlike. Natividad stopped, and
looked at him hard.
.“I know that face,” he muttered. “Who is
it? Who is it?"
Don Christobal, entering the inn, told Dick
that he was going to their room, and asked him
to bring Huascar there. The stairs leading up
to the first floor were just inside the archway,


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
181
and the Marquis, putting his foot on the first
step, noticed Natividad staring across the road.
His eye followed, and he also was struck by a
sudden vague memory.
“Who on earth is that?” he wondered. “I
have seen that man before.”


IV
HARDLY had the Marquis entered the room than
Huascar made his appearance, followed by Dick
and Natividad, like a prisoner with his two
guards. The Indian swept off his hat, with a
grave “ Dios anki tiourata.” To wish a white
man good-day thus, in the sacred Aïmara lan-
guage, was a sign of great respect. Then, seeing
that the Marquis did not respond to the greet-
ing, Huascar began to speak in Spanish.
“ Señor, I bring you news of the señorita and
your son. If the God of the Christians, whom
the benefactress worshiped, aids me, they will
both be restored to you."
Don Christobal, though seething within,
forced himself to the same calm as the Indian.
“ Why have you and yours committed this
crime?” he questioned, crossing his arms.
“Why did you and yours commit the crime of
not watching over them? Had you not been
warned? Huascar, for your sake, twice be-
trayed his brethren, his god, and his country.
He remembered that the mother of the señorita
once befriended a naked child in Callao. That
182


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
183
is why he has sworn to save her daughter from
the terrible honor of entering the Enchanted
Realms of the Sun."
Don Christobal half held out his hand, but the
Indian did not take it, smiling sadly,
“Gracias, señor.”
" And my son, Huascar?”
“ Your son is in no danger. Huascar watches
over him."
“ You say you watch over them! But to-mor-
row I may have neither son nor daughter."
“ Neither son nor daughter will you have if
you do not obey Huascar.” The man's tone had
become somber and menacing. “But if you
obey, I swear by the head of Atahualpa, who
awaits your daughter should I betray her, I
swear by my eternal soul, that the señorita will
be saved!".
“What must we do?”.
“Nothing. You must abstain from all action.
Do not pursue the Red Ponchos and put them
on their guard. I will do everything if you and
yours promise not to come near that house again.
They know you, and when you appear, the mam-
maconas form the black chain round the Bride
of the Sun. If a stranger appeared, they would
offer her up to Atahualpa dead, rather than see
her escape. Be warned, and do not leave this
inn. If you promise me that, I swear that I will


184
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
bring your son here, unharmed, at midnight.
For your daughter, you must wait.”
Don Christobal took down a little crucifix
from a nail over the bed, and came toward Huas-
car.
“ The señora brought you up in our holy
faith,” he said. “Swear upon this that you will
do as you say."
Huascar held out his hand and took the oath.
“I have sworn,” he said proudly, “but for me,
your word is enough.”
“ You have it,” replied Don Christobal. “We
await you here at midnight. Gentlemen," he
added, as Huascar's steps rang on the staircase
without, “I have given my word, and you must
help me keep it. I believe in Huascar."
“So do I,” added Natividad.
Dick was silent. He had been watching the
Indian, and was unconvinced.
6 What do you think, Dick?"
“I don't like it. Perhaps I am mistaken,
though. I feel that Huascar hates me, and I
do not love him particularly. We are not in a
position to judge one another. Midnight will
show."
Natividad, going to the window, had opened it,
and was leaning out into the street.
“I tell you I have seen that face somewhere
before," he reiterated.


186
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
terious old man at the corner of the square, and
put a hand on his shoulder. The stranger
turned, looking at the young man fixedly.
“ What do you desire, señor?” he asked in a
toneless voice.
“I want to know why you are following that
man.” Dick pointed to Huascar, just disappear.
ing at another corner.
“Do you not know, then? The great day of
the Interaymi is near. I am following that man
because he commands the Red Ponchos, who are
taking my daughter to the Cuzco. She is the
Bride of the Sun, you know. But this time I
shall not let her die. I shall save her, and we
will return together to Lima, where her fiancée
is waiting. Adios, señor!”
He stalked away on his long legs, leaning on
the crook.
“Mad!” said Dick aloud. Then he clenched
his fists, as if to hold his own reason. This in-
action would drive him insane! To think that
in the very heart of a supposedly civilized city
there was nothing to do but to wait. And wait
for what? Huascar's good pleasure; his good
pleasure to keep his word or break it. Could he
force that house alone? He could at all events
try, and fight his way to Maria-Teresa's feet, even
if he was killed the minute afterwards.
He stopped, and pulled himself together.


THE BRİDE OF THE SUN
187
What good purpose would that serve? No, he
must wait; wait until midnight, when Huascar
would return. That was the only thing to do;
ruse for ruse, and the golden voice of money to
talk to those Indians. But midnight was a long
way off. Ten times the young man paced round
the square, wondering and raging. Surely there
were behind all these beflagged and festooned
windows a legion of Christian men who would
rise like a hurricane if they knew the abominable
truth!
Dick's thoughts were interrupted by the ap-
pearance of a dancing, singing, howling mob at
the end of the neighboring calle. This, then,
was the populace which he would have raised
against Garcia, and which obeyed Garcia, while
the Dictator, like Pilate, washed his hands of
it. The mob approached, to the thunder of
drums and bugles, while flaming torches and
swaying paper lanterns lit up the scene, for
night had now fallen. Overhead fluttered ban-
ners adorned with crosses and strange symbols
perhaps two thousand years old. Christians,
this crowd? Perhaps !
Not a man of the upper classes was to be seen,
not even a high-caste Indian. Here were only
the dregs of the city; a mass of howling maniacs,
whirling and whooping round a huge bonfire
which had flared up in the center of the square,


190
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
Huascar did not answer at once. He was evi-
dently taken by surprise.
“I shall save her," he said at last. “Return
to the inn, señor. I shall be there at midnight.”
He turned and walked toward the river with-
out another look at Dick, who made his way
back to the plaza mayor, his ears buzzing, con-
vinced that he had delivered Maria-Teresa.


ABSORBED by his thoughts, shaken by the mental
storm through which he had just passed, Dick
did not notice what was happening about him,
and was nearly ridden down by a detachment of
hussars clearing a way to the theater. The hus-
sars were escorting an open carriage drawn by
four splendidly-caparisoned horses, and seated
in the carriage were two men: General Garcia,
in all the glory of the fullest of full uniforms,
and beside him, in immaculate evening-dress,
Oviedo Runtu.
When he saw the Indian, Dick made as if to
rush after the carriage, but he was swept away
in a swirl of the crowd and, hardly knowing how,
carried right into the theater on that human
flood. He at once tried to escape, but could not
battle his way back to the door. Garcia, sur-
rounded by a glittering staff, was bowing to the
cheering crowd from the front of the presidential
box. Dick was so placed that he could not see
Oviedo Ruintu. The Indian, modestly hidden
behind a column, left Garcia to wrestle with his
glory alone.
A French actress, “ of the Comédie Française,”
191


192
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
if the bills were to be believed, came before the
footlights and recited Spanish verse, in which
Garcia was hailed as “the Savior of the coun-
try.” Then the curtain rose, revealing a pedes-
tal, on which was the bust of a general. It had
served several times before for a like purpose,
but this time it was supposed to represent Gar-
cia. Round it was grouped the whole company,
which intoned a triumphal chorus. Then, one
by one, the actors filed past the bust, each with
his little speech and a wreath.
The bust was almost buried in flowers when
an Indian girl appeared. She was wearing the
Quichua costume:- a little tunic open at the
neck, and a dozen skirts of various colors worn
one on the other; over her shoulders, a woolen
mantlet, secured at the throat by a spoon-shaped
brooch.
She was greeted with a roar of delight by the
Indian part of the audience. And she, in her
turn, that nothing might be lacking in Garcia's
triumph, sang something in Indian, something by
which the Indians also put all their hope and
trust in the Savior of the Country. At the last
verse she shouted, as was only meet, “ Long live
Garcia!” the crowd taking up the echo. There
were other voices, however, shouting, “Huayna
Capac Runtu!”
A gorgeous din followed. Every Indian in the


194
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
was as anxious as his two companions. He was
a kind-hearted man, and had gone so far into the
adventure that he could no longer withdraw
without loss of self-esteem. Moreover, he was so
compromised, administratively speaking, that,
all things taken into consideration, he could not
do better than stand by the Marquis to the end.
Whatever the result, he was sure that Don Chris-
tobal would not let him starve.
Midnight came, and the twelve strokes rang
out from the church tower.
The theater had long since given up its last
enthusiasts, and the square was now more or less
deserted. All the paper lanterns had gone out,
but the night was a clear one, and they could
easily distinguish the shadows moving home-
wards under the arcades. None of them,
though, came toward the inn. A quarter past
twelve. Not one of the three men in the room
dared say a word !
At half-past twelve, still nothing! The Mar-
quis heaved a strangled sigh. At a quarter to
one, Dick went over to the little lamp smoking
on the table, took out his revolver, and opened
it to see that it was loaded and working prop-
erly.
“Huascar has fooled us like children," he said,
vainly striving to control his voice. “He came
here in broad daylight, with the knowledge of


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
195
his accomplices, and threw sand in our eyes.
He has kept us quiet for hours that were price-
less to them, and might have been to us. I have
no hope left. Maria Teresa is lost, but I shall
see her again if I die for it.”
He left the room. Don Christobal, catching
up his cloak and arming himself as well, fol.
lowed, Natividad in his wake. They crossed the
square in silence. At the top of the alley lead-
ing down to the adobe house, Natividad asked
the Marquis what he intended to do against fifty
armed men.
“ The first man we see will be offered a thou-
sand soles to speak. If he refuses, a knife in
the ribs. Then we shall see.”
When they reached the point where they had
been stopped by Civil Guards earlier in the day,
they were astonished to find the sentry gone.
For a moment, there was a flicker of hope in
their hearts, but when they had advanced an-
other twenty yards and saw the house un-
guarded, they realized the truth. They ran for-
ward and entered the open door. All the rooms
were deserted. In one of them they found the
same pungent odor as at the hacienda on the
Chorillos road. “They are lost," muttered
Natividad, while the Marquis, breaking down at
last, called his children's names aloud through
the deserted house.


196
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
Dick, exploring the place, fell over a crouch-
ing figure, and put all his pent-up rage into
throwing the man. Half strangled and trem-
bling with fear, the captured half-breed ex-
plained that he was the owner of the house. He
had been roistering in the city, but the threat of
death sobered him and loosened his tongue.
Just after eleven o'clock, a closed carriage had
driven up to the door. He did not know who
had entered it, but it had been escorted to the
station by all the women and the Red Ponchos.
This he knew for certain, because he had fol.
lowed them out of curiosity. At the station, the
man they called Huascar had given him some
money, telling him to go away and not to return
to the house before daylight.
“ The blackguard!” growled Dick. “He
knew we would come here when he didn't turn
up! Come on! To the station, quick!”
When they reached it, it was with the greatest
difficulty that they finally unearthed an employee
asleep on a bench. He made no secret of the
fact that a large number of Indians had left at a
quarter past eleven, in a special train ordered by
Oviedo Runtu“ for his servants.” No, they
could not get another special train that night
for all the money in the world. If they wanted
to get to Sicuaņi as well, they would have to


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN 197
wait until the morning. This said, he returned
to his interrupted nap.
That night was a terrible one for the three
men. They made another vain attempt to reach
Garcia, and then wandered through the streets
until dawn. Don Christobal was beginning to
talk incoherently, and showed all the signs of
approaching dementia. Again and again Dick
led them back to the adobe house and wandered
through the empty rooms. The half-breed had
taken to his heels.
Natividad was not in a much better condition
than his companions, and when the first morning
train started, it carried three specters in one
compartment. Other travelers, hesitating at the
door, literally bolted when they saw their wild
eyes.
The train went as far as Sicuani, but they did
not reach it the same day, being obliged to pass
a night at Juliaca, nearly ten thousand feet
above sea-level, where they again found the trace
of the Red Ponchos. It was intensely cold, and
all three were taken with mountain sickness,
which made them so weak that they were forced
to take some rest. They only partially recov-
ered next day, at Sicuani. There was a motor
service between Sicuani and Cuzco, which was
working despite the revolution, but the Marquis,


198
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
unwilling to trust anybody or anything, bought
a car for himself at a fabulous price. He was
also moved by the thought that it might prove
useful later on.
Just as they were leaving the station road in
their motor, they met Uncle Francis, cool, un-
perturbed, and fresh as a daisy. An avalanche
of questions did not ruffle his calm.
“Well, I lost you at Arequipa and did not
know what to do. Then I said to myself:
• They are sure to be somewhere near the Red
Ponchos. We are following them, are we not?
So when I saw one, I stuck to him like a leech.
I followed him to a little house near the river,
which was guarded by soldiers. That, said I to
myself, must be where those dear children are
being kept prisoners. You did not appear, and
I thought you had gone ahead. Everybody
knows where these ceremonies take place, I sup-
pose. But I did not, so I stuck to my Red
Poncho. When they went to the station, I fol-
lowed. Somebody told me it was a special train
and I couldn't get in, but I gave the guard two
soles and slept in his van. When we arrived,
I couldn't see you anywhere. I went on to
Cuzco, but you were not there either. So I came
back to meet this morning's train. And here I
am!”
Uncle Francis does not realize to this day


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
199
how near he came to being strangled by his duti-
ful nephew, or stabbed by the Marquis. His
superb calm nearly drove them frantic.
“Where did they take Maria-Teresa ?” de-
manded Dick, roughly, though he owed the un-
conscious tracker more thanks than blame.
“You know well enough! To the House of
the Serpent."
“The House of the Serpent!” Dick turned
to Natividad, gripping his sleeve. “I have
heard you say something about that place.
What does it mean?”
“It means that they are in the Antechamber
of Death.”


BOOK V
THE HOUSE OF THE SERPENT





MARIA TERESA opened her eyes. What was this
dream from which she had awakened, or into
which she had fallen? Little Christobal's
plaintive voice brought her keen realization of
the brutal truth. She held out her arms to the
child, but felt neither his kisses nor his tears on
her face. Her eyes were still heavy with magic
sleep, and she opened them with difficulty. .
When, gradually, she came out of the abyss of
darkness and dreams into which she could be
plunged almost instantly by the sacred sachets
always ready in the hideous fists of the three
living mummies; the mammaconas, too, had ter-
rible perfumes which they burned round her in
precious vases, sandia more pungent than in-
cense, more hallucinating than opium, which
transformed the Bride of the Sun into a beauti-
ful living statue. Then they could sing their
songs uninterruptedly, for Maria-Teresa: had
gone to another world, and heard nothing of
what happened about her.
Curiously enough, her spirit then carried her
back to the hour when the knock had come at
203


206
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
of them signed to a mammacona, who carried
the sleeping boy to his sister; she burst into
tears, for the first time since her captivity. The
child opened his eyes and clung to her, sobbing,
“ Maria-Teresa! Maria-Teresa!”
“ How did he come here? You would not hurt
him!”
“ We shall do as he wishes. He came to us,
not we to him. He himself shall decide his fate.
Let him beware of his words. That is all I can
say to you, all I can do for you. Is that not so,
ye Guardians of the Temple?”
Maria-Teresa, clutching the child to her,
looked at them with fresh terror painted on her
features; at Huascar, calm and motionless; at
the three living mummies, gently swaying.
" What do you mean? How can a child be-
ware of his words? ”
Huascar, without moving, then spoke to little
Christobal.
“ Child, will you come with me? I will take
you to your father.”
“No! I will stop with Maria-Teresa ! ”
“The child has spoken,” said Huascar. “So
it is ordered. Is it not so, Guardians of the
Temple?”
The three horrible skulls swayed gently.
Then Huascar, before leaving, had chanted
the words of an Aïmara psalm: “ Blessed are


208
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
giving her a title she had not heard before; they
called her Coya, which, in Inca, means queen.
The mammaconas took her in their powerful
arms, lifting her like a child, and took off the
sulphur-hued robes with which she had been
adorned in the deserted hacienda. Again they
anointed her with sweet oils and perfumed
creams, chanting the while a slow and restful
lullaby, stilling to the senses. They were tall
women from the province of Puno, born on the
shores of Titicaca, strong and beautiful; their
walk was almost rhythmic, supple and harmoni.
ous, while their rounded arms showed golden
against the black of their veils. They had splen-
did eyes, all that could be seen of their faces.
Maria-Teresa and little Christobal were afraid
of them, but they were not cruel. Two of their
number were to die with Maria-Teresa, to pre-
pare the nuptial chamber in the Palace of the
Sun, and they were the most lively, the happiest,
the most consoling and understanding. They
were wholly happy, and were sad that the Bride
did not share that happiness, doing all they
could to make her understand the joy of being
chosen among all as the Coya. On their ankles
they wore great golden bracelets, and in their
ears heavy circlets.
The child was no longer crying. They had
promised him that if he was good he would re-


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
209
turn to Maria-Teresa's arms. She also obeyed
the mammaconas docilely. The chant with
which they filled her ears lulled her spirit, still
heavy with the magic sleep.
There was a thought, too, which gave her cour-
age. Those who were dearest to her knew where
she was, what had happened to her, who had car-
ried her off, and why. If little Christobal had
been able to find her, surely her father and Dick
could do so. They would both be saved. If
Dick had not appeared before, it was because he
delayed until he was sure of success. At any
moment they might appear with the police and
soldiers, all these savages would vanish in the
mountains, and the horrible dream would be
ended. She felt as weak as a child face to face
with Destiny.


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
211
realized that her last hours had begun, and
thought sadly of the happy yet terrible day when
this bracelet first appeared in her existence; she
remembered the horror-stricken face of Aunt
Agnes, the old duenna crossing herself, her
father's skepticism and Dick's loving laugh.
Where were they all now? Why - why did
they not come to her rescue?
Maria-Teresa stretched out her arms to the
Providence that seemed to have deserted her, and
closed them again on little Christobal, placed in
her lap by one of the attendants. When she saw
him, clad like herself in the robes of night, she
was seized with revolt. This could not be! She
turned to the Guardians of the Temple, who
came forward in answer to her look, gently sway-
ing. There was no doubt of it! There were the
same horrible skulls which Dick and she had
seen taken out of the earth, come from their
tombs to take her back with them. But she
would speak, and test their mercy. She turned
away her eyes, mortally afraid that the steady
swaying would overpower her will, and told
them she was ready to die quietly, as befitted a
Bride of the Sun, if only they would spare the
little boy and send him safely back to Lima.
“I will not leave you, Maria-Teresa! I will
not leave you!”
“ The child has spoken. So it is ordained.”


212
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
The Guardians of the Temple exchanged glances
and moved away again, gently swaying.
Maria-Teresa burst into tears, the ring of mad-
ness in her high sobs, while the little boy clung
desperately, striving to console her.
“Do not cry, Maria-Teresa! They will come
to save us. Papa and Dick will come. ... Oh!
What was that?"
From behind the walls come the strains of
music. A curtain is raised, and the players
enter - tall, sad-faced men who take their places
in a ring around them. They are the sacred
players of the quenia, the flute which is made of
human bones. Their song is sadder than a De
Profundis, and Maria-Teresa shivers, her be-
seeching eye exploring in vain every corner of
the great bare room which is the antechamber of
her tomb. .
Monstrous, Cyclopean masses of stone, hex-
agonal in shape and placed one upon the other
without mortar, held in place by their mighty
weight alone, from the walls of the House of the
Serpent. She knows where she is, for the mam-
maconas have told her. There are two Houses
of the Serpent, one at Cajamarca, the other at
Cuzco. They are called thus because of the
stone serpent carved over the main entrances.
The serpent is there to guard the sacred pre-
cincts, and never allows the victims of the Sun


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
213
to escape. Aunt Agnes and old Irene have often
told her this, and until now she has always
laughed.
Maria Teresa, then, is in Cuzco, in a palace
well known to travelers, historians, and archæ-
ologists; a place which all may enter, which all
may leave in freedom; a place to which guides
bring the curious stranger. Then what does it
all mean? Why should she fear? They are
sure to come to her rescue. But why are they
still not here?
Which way will they come? Listen! Yes,
above the sad piping of the quenias rise other
sounds: murmurs, footsteps, and the dull rum-
ble of a gathering throng. It comes from over
there, from behind that vast curtain, that vast
golden-yellow curtain which stretches right
across the room and prevents her from seeing.
What does it hide, and what is that crowd await-
ing?
Maria-Teresa questions the two mammaconas
who are to die with her. They are stretched at
her feet in their long black veils, and rise with
respect to answer. The faithful are waiting to
adore King Huayna Capac, who will come to
lead her back to Atahualpa. Maria-Teresa, un-
comprehending, asks more questions. He will
come from the bowels of the earth to claim them,
and they will pass through the realms of night


214
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
in their robes of mourning, till they reach the
Enchanted Realms of the Sun. Then they will
be clad all in gold, with golden dresses and
jewels of gold, for all time.
“And the little boy?” asked Maria-Teresa.
To her horror, they turned their heads away
and did not answer. She caught Christobal
more closely to her, covering his face with kisses,
as if she wished to smother him with caresses to
save him from a more terrible fate. The child
strove to console her. “Do not be afraid,” he
whispered. “ Papa and Dick will come, not the
wicked King. They will soon be here."
On one of the giant stones are mysterious
signs to which the whispering mammaconas
draw each other's attention — strange sculptured
figures with the head of man and the body of the
coraquenque. In all time and on all the earth,
so say the Incas, there has been only one couple
of coraquenques, two of the mystic birds which
appeared in the mountains at the coronation of
each new king and gave him two of their feathers
to adorn his head-dress.
Behind the curtain, the noise has ceased, and
the song of the quenias suddenly grows so pierc-
ing that Maria-Teresa cries out in terror.
Christobal, clutching at her bosom, nestles closer.
Then the curtains are parted, and the whole hall
is revealed.


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
215
Below, a long way below her, is a prostrate
and silent crowd. On the porphyry steps which
stretch down to this crowd stand the three Guar-
dians of the Temple. A step below them, Huas-
car, his arms crossed under his red poncho.
Lower still, four prostrate Red Ponchos, who
are the Guards of the Sacrifice. Their heads,
completely hidden by the sacred bonnet and ear-
caps, are bent so low that none can see their
faces.
Surely there is somebody in that huge crowd
who will free her! Maria-Teresa, filled with a
wild hope, rises with the child in her arms, and
cries for mercy. But the booming answer takes
away all hope. “Muera la Coya! Muera la
Coya! To death with the Queen!” They give
her the title in Aïmara, but clamor for her death
in Spanish, that she may understand.
The four mammaconas on her right, the four
others on her left and the two who were to die
with her surrounded the young girl, forced her
back to her seat. But she still struggled, hold-
ing up the boy, and begging that he at least
might be spared.
“He is the sacrifice of Pacahuamac," came
the answer. And the mammaconas, taking up
the echo, chanted: “ The sacrifice of Paca-
huamac! Before all things began, before the
Sun and before the Moon, his sister, was the


216
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
Great Spirit, Pacahuamac. Pacahuamac, the
Great Spirit!”
Down below there, the surging crowd took up
the cry. Huascar, turning, commanded silence
with a gesture.
They were all standing now, except the four
Red Ponchos on the last step, still prostrate and
silent. The cry of the quenias rose again, stri-
dent and shrill; soon they alone were to be heard.
Maria-Teresa, crushed, conquered, had ceased
struggling. Not a voice, not a sign, had an-
swered the appeal. In a groan, she begged the
mammaconas for their perfumes. “Haye mercy.
Bring your perfumes. Then we shall not suf-
fer.” The two who were to die with her shook
their heads. “We must go to Atahualpa wak-
ing, with all our hearts and all our senses, that
heart and senses may live hereafter.”
The quenia players ceased their music, and a
terrible, gripping silence descended on the hall.
The faithful fell to their knees, and Huascar's
sonorous voice commanded silence.
“Silence! Silence in the House of the Ser-
pent! The dead King is coming! Listen!”
It was as if an earthquake had shaken the
walls. The place was filled with thunder. But
instead of coming from the heavens, it rose from
the very bowels of the earth.
Little Christobal trembled in his sister's arms,


III
That part of the wall on which were sculptured
the strange signs and the two human-headed
birds had opened, as if on a pivot. Maria-
Teresa cowered and covered her face with her
hands, for the dead king was emerging from the
gulf of shadow beyond. The wall swung back
into position, and the young girl, opening her
eyes again, saw before her a two-seated throne
of massive gold. The seat on the right of the
dead majesty was unoccupied. The great crowd
of Indians was bent to the dust in adoration,
while the dirge of the quenia-players rose to the
roof in ever-increasing volume.
The two mammaconas who were to accompany
Maria Teresa to the Enchanted Realms of the
Sun stood on each side of her, while the ten
other priestesses, formed in two lines, passed
and re-passed before her, in the intricate steps
of a sacred dance. When they came before the
Dead One's throne, they fell to their knees, then
rose again, chanting: “This is Huayna Capac,
King of kings, son of the great Tapac Inca Yup-
anqui. He has come by the Corridors of Night
to claim the new Coya offered by the Inca people
218


220
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
Guardians of the Temple. Maria-Teresa kept
her eyes fixed on the dead king, not only because
he was just opposite her and, half fascinated,
she could not do otherwise, but also because she
did not wish to look at the Red Ponchos. She
felt that if her eyes were allowed to wander for
an instant, they would fatally betray the four.
Maria-Teresa was now as if half buried in the
idea of death; she felt as if the earth had al-
ready claimed her, only leaving her head free for
a little longer. She was becoming gradually
hypnotized by the motionless monarch, while the
fanatical crowd about her wondered, awestruck.
Huascar raised his arm, two fingers of his
right hand imposing immediate and absolute
silence. The Guardians of the Temple drew
near, pointing towards the vacant seat on the
golden throne. Two mammaconas lifted up
Maria Teresa, carried her to it, and placed her
beside Huayna Capac, son of the great Tapac
Inca Yupanqui. Then the double throne was
turned until it faced the assembly and the Red
Ponchos.
Maria-Teresa closed her eyes, shivering at the
thought of the corpse beside her. She dared not
open them, realizing with horrible distinctness
that if she did she must try to run down to Dick,
or call out something that would betray them.
Though her eyes were closed, and she outwardly


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
221
seemed as dead as the mummy beside her, Maria-
Teresa knew what was happening. Little
Christobal, peeping over the curve of his sister's
arms, was watching everything, and a whisper,
so low that she hardly felt the breath rising
along her bare neck, said: “ Dick has lifted his
head. ... Papa is looking at us ... we must
not moye.” Maria-Teresa pressed her trembling
fingers on the child's lips, and he was silent.
So they were there. Her tired brain, work-
ing, working, wondered what they were going to
do. It was horrible to know them there, hidden
and helpless. For if they had not been helpless,
they would not be hidden, they would have come
with police and soldiers. Could it be that the
Indians were masters of the country now?
Then she thought of the revolution, of Garcia,
who had once loved her. Why had they not gone
to him? At a word, he would have come with
his whole army. And they, hidden under their
red ponchos, what could they do? What was
their plan?
The mammaconas were chanting:-
“ Earthquakes shook the world. The moon
was girt with rings of many colors. Thunder
fell on the royal palace, and reduced it to ashes.
An eagle, hard pursued by falcons, circled over
the great square of the city, filling the heavens
with his cries. Pierced by the talons of his foes,


224
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
her father
that
a one of the
She half screamed. ... They also had risen,
pacing slowly toward the doors.
It could not be! They could not be deserting
her! But they were going away like the others,
without looking in her direction. No, she must
not scream ... she must wait patiently ...
wait for a sign. Still walking slowly, three of
them had gone to the three doors, but the fourth,
Dick, turned suddenly, his finger on his lips.
Forgetting Huascar's words, Maria Teresa
half rose in her seat. There was a revolver in
Dick's fist now, and her father had vanished
through one of the doors, looking to make sure
that the courtyard was deserted. Then his
voice gave the signal:-“ Recuerda!” (Remem-
ber!) Dick dashed up the porphyry steps, Don
Christobal following, while the two others re-
mained at the doors.
“ Come, Maria Teresa! Quick!”
Dick stretched out his hands to take little
Christobal, and Maria-Teresa had risen, when a
terrible whistling sound filled the hall, and the
two prisoners, shrieking, were hurled back into
the seat by the monstrous folds of a huge ser-
pent which seemed to spring into life about them,
binding them down to the throne of Death. The
serpent of the House of the Serpent had come to
claim his prey.
Raising his repolver, Dick thundered at the


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
225
hideous head towering above them, whistling
with wide-open jaws, and tore at the coils which
imprisoned his fiancée. His hands fell, not on
living flesh, but on hard, cold metal; copper
rings which ground one against the other, over-
lapped, and drew tighter. It was in vain that
he and Don Christobal tore at them with furious
hands.
“Look out! They are coming!" shouted
Natividad from the doorway, and the hall was
invaded by Indians, while the Serpent shrieked
stridently, and a thousand rattles seemed to
sound the alarm. The Marquis still tore at the
coils that were choking his children, but Dick,
hesitating a moment, dashed down the stairs.
In a twinkling, the hall was full of Indians,
priests, caciques, mammaconas, scores of Quichua
soldiers from the train of Oviedo Runtu, who
alone remained invisible.
Huascar appeared, still calm and immovable,
as if this scene did not surprise him, as if noth-
ing could surprise him. Had he known before-
hand what was to have happened, he could not
have given his orders more deliberately. Don
Christobal, Natividad, and Uncle Francis were
tied up in a trice, the latter at last alarmed by
the brutality of his captors. Dick had disap-
peared.
“ Take them away," ordered Huascar.


226
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
Don Christobal struggled, turned and looked
once again. “Maria-Teresa! Christobal!”
Then he too was hurried away.
Meanwhile Huascar, more and more somber,
directed the search for Dick. They hunted in
vain; he had disappeared like a drop of water
in the sea. Finally, Huascar gave the order to
clear the hall again.
Left alone with the Guardians of the Temple,
who stood caressing the serpent's folds with
their hideous little hands, the high-priest went
behind the throne. In a moment, the brazen
monster was silent, loosened its grip, and shrank
link by link, until it vanished whence it had come.
Going to the wall, Huascar placed his hand on
the coraquenque, and the massive stones rolled
back; the throne shook, slipped backwards, and
vanished down the Corridors of Night, taking
with it the dead King, Maria-Teresa and little
Christobal, both unconscious. The wall closed
upon them, hiding again the secrets which only
those who are ready to die may know.
The Guardians of the Temple bent their mon-
strous heads in obeisance before Huascar, and in
their turn went out. Huascar, last High-Priest
of the Incas, was alone in the House of the Ser-
pent. Slowly going to the top of the porphyry
steps, he sat down. His head dropped between
his hands, and there he remained till dawn.


IV
DICK, clear of the House of the Serpent by what
was little short of a miracle, crouched down in a
niche of the palace wall, hewn out by some dead
Inca hand, and there waited for Huascar
throughout the night, watching the door at which
he must appear. He was careless of the danger
he ran, and his very boldness saved him. Not
one of the passing Quichuas, dignitaries of the
Interaymi, dreamed for an instant that the poor
Indian wrapped in his poncho, and apparently
asleep, was the sacrilegious stranger who had
slipped from their clutches. The darkness, too,
favored him, as it had favored his daring escape;
he had merely turned his red poncho inside out,
so that it looked like any other poncho, and had
joined the howling crowd, stopping in it until
Huascar's order had cleared the hall.
Argue the matter as he would, the young man
saw no hope. Garcia's victory over the Federal
troops at Cuzco had given the district into the
hands of the Indians. The Spanish population,
only an eighth of the 50,000 souls in the ancient
city, had fled. Never since the Spanish Con-
227


228
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
quest had the Quichuas so completely been the
masters. Garcia himself had prudently left the
town, waiting for the end of the Interaymi; and
the few troops he had left behind him were heart
and soul with the native population, from which
they had been levied, and with which they shared
customs, faith and fetichism. In a word, the
Cuzco was as much the home of the Incas as it
had been in the heyday of their despotic rulers.
When Dick and his companions had reached
the outskirts of the city they had hidden their
motor in a half-deserted country inn, bribing the
landlord. They had at once realized that force
was out of the question. Happily, there re-
mained Garcia's money. The landlord, a poor
half-breed who asked no better than to become
rich, had listened readily, and the offer of a
small fortune had set him off looking for Red
Ponchos willing to betray Huascar.
He found four, the very men who were to be
the Guards of the Sacrifice, in the House of the
Serpent. When these men had explained their
functions, the four Europeans could hardly be-
lieve their good fortune. Dick and Don Chris-
tobal were so absorbed by the idea of getting
through to the prisoners somehow, that they did
not stop to think how suspiciously easy their
task had been. Uncle Francis, a witness of the
bargain, was for once not altogether wrong when


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
229
he shrugged his shoulders at their childish
scheme to “ take him in.”
The Red Ponchos agreed to everything, and
the price was fixed, and they received half-pay-
ment. The remainder was to be handed over
when the Marquis' children were free. The
traitors promised to help them escape from the
sacred precincts, and moreover brought them
their disguises.
Uncle Francis, chuckling covertly, accepted
the part assigned to him with such readiness,
showed such quiet courage in his attitude, that
he reconquered at one stroke the lost esteem of
both the Marquis and his nephew. Natividad,
eyer ready to believe anything to the discredit
of an Indian, and knowing from experience how
easily they were to be bought, was quite confi-
dent in the success of the expedition.
Thoroughly fooled by Huascar, they had
walked into the trap, and only amazing luck
had saved one of them. Where were the others
now? Where was the dungeon that held them,
and what was to be their fate?
Dick was waiting in the dark street before
the palace, determined to shoot Huascar when
he saw him. All night through, nobody came
out of the House of the Serpent. At dawn, the
young engineer suddenly felt a hand on his arm,
and, looking up, recognized the old man to whom


230
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
he had spoken at Arequipa, the father of Maria
Cristina de Orellana.
“Why do you stop here?” asked the stranger.
“ You won't see the procession if you do. Fol-
low me, and I'll show you my daughter coming
out of the Corridor of Night.”
Dick stared at him. Groups of Indians were
passing, all heading in the same direction. The
old man spoke again.
“You may as well go with them. They are all
off to see the procession of the Bride of the Sun.”
Dick followed him mechanically. Why not,
after all? He was nearly mad himself. Why
should a madman not be his guide? As they
walked, Orellana babbled on tonelessly.
“I know you well. You want to see the Bride
of the Sun. I see you have even disguised yourself
as an Indian to do so. Not in the least neces-
sary, I assure you. You'll see her, right enough,
if you come with me. I know Cuzco, below
ground and above ground, better than any living
man. I have lived in their secret passages for
ten years. When I am not under ground, I
guide strangers through the city, and show them
where the Bride of the Sun used to pass on her
way to the Temple of Death. You know that, of
course? It's the same as the Temple of the Sun,
only underneath. I'll show it you, for it's worth
seeing


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
231
“Fine fêtes this year, señor. Last time, they
had to hide themselves in the Corridors of Night,
but to-day they are masters both above and be-
low, and that dead king of theirs, Huayna Capac,
will see daylight again. They'll take him all
through the city, as they used to do. If you
don't know that, you haven't been keeping your
ears open.
“Where are your friends? I could have
shown it to them as well. And I don't charge
much; a few centavos keep me going for weeks.
All the innkeepers know me, and send for Orel.
lana when they have visitors. I know you all
quite well. I saw you at Mollendo, then at Are-
quipa, and now here you are again outside the
House of the Serpent. That's where they al-
ways go first. Yes, that's the way they brought
Maria Cristina ten years ago. She was the pret-
tiest girl in Lima, so they chose her for their
god. I didn't know then, but this time they
won't have their way quite so easily. When I
saw the Interaymi come round again, I said to
myself: 'Orellana, you must get ready for
them.' And I'm ready for them, never fear!”
Thus they crossed the whole city. Dick, walk-
ing like a man in a dream, following to the next
station in the martyrdom of his sweetheart, paid
no heed to the wonderful ruins on all sides of
him, the mighty buildings piled rock on rock by


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
233
stand? The Corridors of Night run right under
the city, from the House of the Serpent to Sac-
say-Huaynam. When my daughter comes out,
they will take her round the hill, and round the
Intihuatana. Then, when the Sun has been
freed by the High-Priest, the procession will
come down to the gates of the city.”
Dick could now clearly see the procession
forming up on the walls, and even distinguished
Huascar at its head, giving orders. Leaving
Orellana, he hurried toward Sacsay-Huaynam,
getting as near as the press of Indians would
allow. He could now see that the solstice pillar,
placed in the center of a circle, was loaded with
festoons of flowers and fruit, while on its sum-
mit stood a golden throne. The throne of the
Sun, vanished centuries before, had been brought
out from the Corridors of Night and replaced
there before the dawn.
There was silence on Sacsay-Huaynam; a few
priests were grouped round the Pillar, waiting
for the hour of noon. Then Huascar appeared,
clad in golden vestments. Facing the throne of
the Sun, the High-Priest waited a few seconds,
turned and cried aloud in Aſmara a phrase
which was taken up on all sides in Quichua and
Spanish:-" The god is seated on the Column
in all his light!” Then he struck his hands to-
gether, giving the signal for all to march; the


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
235
heeding, little Christobal still in her arms. In-
stead of the bat-skin robes, they now wore vicuna
tunics, sheer as silk. Behind them walked the
two mammaconas who were to die, their faces
veiled with black; the other women and the three
Guardians of the Temple had disappeared. The
cortège was brought up by a company of Quichua
soldiers in modern uniform, rifle on shoulder,
tramping to the lilt of the quenia-players, who
closed the march.
The contrast between this antique procession
and that fragment of a modern army was more
than curious. Uncle Francis, the only one who
could have really appreciated it under the cir-
cumstances, was not there. As to Dick, he was
watching Maria-Teresa with the fixed gaze of a
madman. Strive as he would, he could get no
nearer, and so backed out of the press to run to-
ward the gates of the city, where he hoped to
fight his way to the front ranks.
On the last steps of the Hill of the Dancing
Monkey he was immobilized by the press of peo-
ple and forced to look with them to the summit
of Sacsay-Huaynam, where, on the top of the
highest tower, had appeared the scarlet figure of
a priest, sharp-cut against the azure of the sky.
Dick at once recognized the Preacher of Caja-
marca, and voices around him further explained
that this was the chief officer of the quipucam-


236 THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
yas, or Keepers of the Historical Word. His
voice, sweeping down from Sacsay-Huaynam,
checked the advance of the procession, chanted
the glory of by-gone days.
Ringing clear and impassioned, it recalled the
day when the Stranger and his diabolical train
had first entered those plains after the death of
Atahualpa. As to-day, the Sun blazed over the
Imperial City, then full of altars sacred to his
cult. Then, innumerable buildings, which the
conqueror was to leave in ruins, traced white
streets in the heart of the valley, and clustered
on the lower slopes of the hills. In the con-
queror's train was Manco, descendant of kings,
in whose name he gave orders and was obeyed.
On that day, when the sun went down behind the
Cordilleras, it might well have been thought that
the Empire of the Incas had ceased to exist.
“ But it still lives!” thundered the voice.
“ The Sun still shines on his children; the Andes,
cradle of our race, still tower to the skies; Cuzco,
navel of the earth, still quivers at the voice of
his priests; Sacsay-Huaynam and the Intihuat-
ana are still standing; the procession of the
Interaymi still starts from these sacred
walls !”
At these words, the procession moved on again,
and had it not been for the anachronism of the
riflemen bringing up the rear, one could almost


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
237
have believed that five hundred years had brought
no change in the plains of the Cuzco.
Dick, finally free to move on, was despairing
of ever getting nearer to Maria Teresa when he
met Orellana again.
“What are you looking for?” asked the old
man. “A place to see from? Then come with
me, and I'll show you my daughter. I know
Cuzco better than the Incas themselves. Come
with me."
Once again Dick allowed the madman to be his
guide. They reentered the city by way of the
Huatanay ravine, spanned to this day by the Con-
quistadors' bridges, and entered a maze of side-
streets free from the crowd. Skirting the pro-
digious Hatun Rumioc, or wall-which-is-of-one-
rock, they passed Calcaurpata, which tradition
makes the palace of Manco Capac himself, first
King of the Incas and founder of Cuzco; then
they turned toward the Plaza Principale, called
Huacaypata by the Quichuas of to-day as by the
Incas of yore. To reach it, Orellana took Dick
through the ruined palace of the Virgins of the
Sun, detailing, as he went, the uses and names of
the various rooms. The young man's impatient
interruptions left him quite unmoved.
“We have plenty of time. You shall see my
daughter from so near that you could speak to
her. Stop a minute, and listen to the quenias.
Quich it, the


238
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
The head of the procession has no more than
reached San Domingo. That church, curiously
enough, was built on the very foundations of the
Temple of the Sun. ... I have never met a vis-
itor less curious than you are. ... This is the
cloister of the Virgins of the Sun. . . . It has
always been the home of virtue and piety, for
the Christians turned it into a convent under
the auspices of Santa Catarina.”
Dick, unable to stand the guide's jargon any
longer, began to run toward the noise of the ad-
vancing procession.
“You might pay me!” shouted Orellana in
his wake. “Pay me what you owe me!” and
stooped to pick up the centavos which the young
engineer threw on the ground.
Nearing the plaza principale, Dick again
found his way blocked by the crowd, and forgot
his anger in the relief of finding a friend when
Orellana tugged at his poncho again.
“ You might as well stop with me,” urged the
old man. “Hurrying won't help you. I know
a little tiny Corridor of Night that will lead us
to the Sun, right to the top stone of one of those
temples. . . . It's a temple dedicated to Venus.
... They call her Chasca, or the young man
with the long and curly locks, and he's supposed
to be the page of the Sun. Come with me."
Orellana had taken Dick by the hand, and led


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
239
him to a cellar, in which they found the foot of
a narrow staircase. Once at the top of it, they
were, as the old man had promised, on the sum-
mit of a ruined temple, dominating the crowded
square below and the streets radiating to it like
the spokes of a wheel to the hub. Around them
were other ruins; temples sacred to the moon,
to the “armies of the heavens,” which are the
stars, to the rainbow, lightning and thunder ...
walls which still defied the elements, though the
temples were now shops, work-rooms or stables.
The head of the procession had appeared, the
hundred servitors of the god pressing back the
crowd, and slowly wound its way round the
square. Then the golden litter came into sight
and Huayna Capac, for the first time in centuries,
came to the center of the world, the Umbilicus
of which he had been lord and master. All
heads were bowed before this sovereign shadow
and the memory of ancient glories once again
brought to life. The crowd even forgot for the
moment its hatred of the stranger woman, the
motionless Coya with the stranger child in her
arms.
The double throne was brought to the center
of the square, and the crowd rose with clamor-
ing voices. Around the litter, the caciques and
the chiefs, the nobles and the amautas, who are
the sages, joined hands and began to circle, danc-


240
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
ing as they danced of yore, when each man held
a link of the golden chain and danced the Dance
of the Chain. Hands made the links to-day, for
when the Strangers slew Atahualpa, the nobles
of the Cuzco threw that chain, which otherwise
would have gone to the King's ransom, into the
deepest water of Lake Titicaca.
“ Recuerda !”
Suddenly, as if from the heavens, this cry
checked the rhythm of the Dance of the Chain.
Maria-Teresa started on her throne, remember-
ing the signal in the House of the Serpent. The
child in her arms also lifted its head, and their
eyes questioned the blue vault above from which
this word of hope had fallen.
« That was Dick's voice, Maria-Teresa! I told
you he would come to save us!”
The girl's eyes explored the towering walls
about her, black with Indians. How could she
recognize him in that crowd? Where was he?
Again the voice rang out over their heads, so
loud that it could be heard by the most distant
unit of the crowd.
“ Recuerda !”
Every head was turned upwards, and a threat-
ening murmur rose from that human mass, torn
from its dream of renascence and liberty by a
single Spanish word. Recuerda! What must
they remember? That they were slaves ? That


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
241
these fêtes, striving to recall an abolished past,
could only last the space of a day? That the
sun of to-morrow, forgetting that of to-day,
would only shine anew on their servitude?
Maria-Teresa started up from the golden
throne with the child in her arms, brought to life
and action again by the beloved voice.
Looking higher, they at last saw, on the high-
est stone in the azure, a pigmy figure holding out
its arms to the Coya, and crying, “ Maria-
Teresa! Maria-Teresa !”
“ Dick!”
Then all understood that on high there was a
stranger, one of the hated race, come to rob them
of the soul of their Coya.


244
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
lana, asked nobody's permission, and since his
daughter was to be wedded to the Sun, it was the
least of things that he should be present at the
marriage, and particularly as he had planned it
all so carefully! It had taken him years to find
the Temple of Death, but with patience all
things could be done. There was not one dried-
up river-bed underground, not a deserted gold-
mine which he did not know so well that he could
find his way about it with his eyes shut.
And what fortunes he had discovered under
the earth; a fortune equal to all the fortunes on
earth! It was obvious that the Incas must have
got their gold somewhere. Well, he had discov-
ered where! There was plenty of it left, plenty
of it left! ... One day, some clever young en-
gineer would find out, and he would only have
to stoop to be as rich as Crosus. (A bitter smile
from the young engineer, whose thoughts were
far from such things.)... But he, Orellana,
did not give a fig for all the gold in creation.
He loved only his daughter, whom the Indians
had taken to the Temple of Death, and it was
only the Temple of Death which he had sought.
It had taken him years, but now everything was
ready and he was going to save her. He had
waited long enough to kiss her again! Ten
whole years!
So the old man wandered on, while Dick lis-


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
245
tened eagerly, striving to guess how much was
truth, and how much madness.
“ But how do they get from Cuzco to the Tem-
ple of Death ? "
“Don't you worry about that. . . . By the
Corridors of Night, by the Corridors of the Moun-
tains of Night, by the Corridors of the Lake of
Night. . . . By the way, do you know anything
about fishing?"
Dick did not have time to answer this extraor-
dinary question, for the guard had come
through to their carriage, and was inviting them
to the luggage-van to see the samacuena danced.
Everybody else seemed to be going there, and
they accepted so as not to draw attention to
themselves. They found the van peopled with
Indians, dancing, playing the guitar, and drink-
ing hard. At each step, the guard, to celebrate
Garcia's victories, fired a volley of cohetes, the
mountains throwing back the echo of the ex-
plosions.
Then some of the Quichua soldiers in the train
gave themselves up to the pleasures of the chase.
Spying flocks of vicuñas in the hills, they went
to the observation-car and tried their luck. One
of them, something of a marksman, brought
down a vicuña, the train stopped with a grinding
of brakes, and the guard himself went off to
retrieve the bag.


246
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
Dick, wild with impatience, would have liked
to club the engine driver and take charge of the
locomotive himself, but Orellana calmed him
down.
“We're sure to get there before them. You'll
see! Why, we shall even have time to do some
fishing!”.
Leaving their fellow-travelers to cut up the
vicuña, they returned to their carriage, where the
stove had been lighted. It had become intensely
cold, for they were now in the snow regions, more
than fourteen thousand feet above sea-level.
Soroche, or mountain fever, threw the young en-
gineer, and after bleeding violently at the nose,
he fell into a semi-comatose condition. He did
not recover until Punho, when he again remem-
bered the horrible nightmare through which he
was living, and savagely demanded to be shown
the way to the Temple of Death.
“We're going there,” replied his strange guide,
but first took him to the main square, where
about a hundred Indian girls, wearing skirts of a
dark material and the low-cut bodices of their
race, squatted in orderly rows, selling fruits and
vegetables dried in the cold.
“ There are usually two hundred of them,” ex-
plained Orellana, “but the Red Ponchos have
been this way and chosen the best-looking half


248
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
Just before dawn, Dick awoke to find Orel-
lana reminiscent.
“ This place has always brought me luck since
I started to look for my daughter, but I cannot
make out who to thank for it. Do you know
who this god is?”
He pointed to the bas-reliefs which covered
the stone. They represented a human being,
the head adorned with allegorical rays, and each
hand holding a different scepter. Around this
being were symmetrically ranged other figures,
some with human faces, others with the heads
of condors, all holding scepters and all facing
toward the center.
“ There's no doubt about it,” mused Orellana
aloud. “This is nothing like the Incas' work.
It is much more sculptural, and much older.
There must have been worlds on these shores
before the advent of the Incas. They're only
savages who steal children. ... Well, come on.
We may as well go out in my boat and meet the
sun."
In a little creek, half hidden by rushes, they
found a cane pirogue, in which Orellana had
soon hoisted a mast and a mat sail.
“ Come on,” he said, “ we'll do some fishing.
It's all on the way to the Temple of Death.”
Dick followed him into the fragile craft, and
they started for the islands. These came into


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
249
sight late in the afternoon, a blue blur on the
horizon. To Dick's fevered imagination, they
seemed like threatening shadows on the face of
the waters, ghostly guardians of the Temple of
Death.
Orellana refused to go any nearer that night,
hauled down the sail, and threw overboard a
heavy stone to anchor his boat. Then he handed
Dick a fishing-rod. At his astonished look, the
madman replied:
“People come to the islands to fish, because
these waters are blessed by the gods and the
catches are better than anywhere else. Can't
you do what everybody else does?”
He pointed across the waters to little lights
flaring up at the bows of other pirogues, in which
sat motionless fishermen.
“ All those Indians are fishing," he said.
“ You may as well join them. If you can't, go
to sleep, and don't worry us. You'll see some-
thing worth while when you wake up."
Orellana woke Dick just before dawn. The
last stars were paling in the heavens at the ap-
proach of their King. The deep waters of the
lake showed uniformly gray, not a light and not
a shadow upon them. Not a sound to break
stillness, not a breath of wind in the air. Sud-
denly, in the Orient, the mountain peaks were
touched with fire, a giant furnace sprang into


250
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
being behind the torn curtain of the Cordilleras,
and the sun painted scarlet splashes into the
shadows of the sacred islands.
When they pass before the largest of them,
which is Titicaca, the Indian fishermen in their
fragile pirogues never fail to chant the Aïmara
Hymn of the Ancestors, for it was from this
island, untold years ago, that sprang the founders
of the Inca race in the persons of Manco Capac
and Mama Cello, husband and wife, brother and
sister, both children of the Sun. Coming in
sight of the island, the traveler perceives giant
ruins and great masses of rock piled up in an in-
explicable manner, so strange that science has
not yet been able to give them a date. These
are the baths, the palaces and temples of the first
Incas.
Dick, staring landwards from the pirogue,
hardly knew whether he was awake or dreaming.
Was this a hallucination born of the terrors of
the week, or did his eyes really reveal what other
eyes had first adored centuries before, at the
dawn of the Inca world? As the shadows of
night drew away and the island stood out above
the waters in all its terrestrial grandeur, he did
not merely see dead stones, lifeless temples, and
deserted palaces; the Cyclopean whole was peo-
pled by a vast throng, motionless and silent, its
myriad faces turned to the flaming Orient. This


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
Sun, behold thy Empire! After so many cen.
turies, the faithful, the men who labor in valley
and mountain, are still here, and still do thee
obeisance. The golden-armed virgins have
poured libations from the sacred vases, and the
hymns of the priests, after having risen to the
heavens, now seem to plunge into the earth.
What is this miracle? The dream has van.
ished; vanished as do the light mists of morning
before the first rays of the sun.


BOOK VI
THE TEMPLE OF DEATH


256
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
The grotto was a deep one. After walking
for a few seconds over sand and shells, the old
man lit a resinous torch, and the spluttering
flame showed the dark entrance of a passage.
Before entering it, however, he bent down in a
corner and picked something up. Dick saw that
it was a pick.
“ What are you going to do with that?”
“ Save my daughter, of course! Just come
with me, and I'll show you. I shan't let those
devils choke her as they did ten years ago. They
wall them up alive, you see. All we need do is
to wait until they have gone, and then take her
out again. Clear enough, isn't it? ... When I
discovered the Temple of Death and saw all the
slabs on the wall, I said to myself: “It would
have been easy enough to save her if I had been
there. It was too late then. And of course, I
didn't know which stone she was behind. This
time, though, I shall watch them. . . . We'll get
the best of them yet. See if we don't!”
There was hope, then! Dick took a long
breath, and steadied himself. Madmen with
their set ideas are sometimes nearer the truth
than sane men with their set reason. Dick took
the pick, and followed Orellana down the wind-
ing passage, the torch in the old man's trembling
hand throwing weird lights and shadows on
their path. There was not a foreign sound to be


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN 257
heard. The earth had choked all noise as it
might yet choke them.
Hacked through the stone, their corridor
opened at intervals onto little square rooms,
probably the burial-places of long-forgotten
priests and dignitaries, slumbering there as their
brethren of ancient Egypt slumber in the Pyra-
mids. In the last of these rooms, Orellana put
out the torch, and fell on his knees, for the nar-
row gut which they now entered was far too low
for a man to stand upright in. A few yards
further on, they came to a spacious niche, and
stood up again.
“ We are there,” said the old man, stopping
Dick.
It was far less dark here, and Dick, his eyes
growing used to the obscurity, realized that a
diffused light was reaching them from some-
where. The shadowy outline of columns and
cornices gradually took shape, and he realized
that he was looking down from a height of sev:
eral feet into a vast hall.
“ That is the Temple of Death,” said Orellana.
“ Listen!”
From the distance came the sound of rhythmic
chanting, and suddenly a blinding stream of
light descended into the chamber before them.
Instinctively, they threw themselves back into
the darkest corner of their niche. Above them,


258 THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
at the summit of the vast subterranean hall, a
stone had been removed, letting in the golden
sunlight. In the heart of the vault was a kind
of truncated cone, so fashioned that the sun-
beams, sliding along its surface, were thrown
into the farthest corner of the mysterious tem-
ple.
Altars, altar-steps, and niches were heavy
with gold, the plaques of the precious metal
being bound together by a wonderful cement, to
make which liquid gold had been used. This
hidden temple was, in a word, a veritable gold-
mine.
On the eastern wall was an image of the divin-
ity, wrought in massive gold, and representing
a human head surrounded by shafts of light. So
the old world has also represented the sun. The
heavy plaque was studded with emeralds and
other precious stones. The rays of the rising
sun fell full upon it, filling the whole temple
with a light that seemed almost supernatural,
and flashing back from the gold ornaments with
which walls and vault were incrusted. Gold, in
the poetic language of the country, is “ the tears
shed by the Sun,” and the Temple blazed with
the precious metal. The cornices crowning the
sanctuary walls were also of gold, and a frieze
of gold, hammered into the stone, ran right round
the hall.


260
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
ing above it, was a kind of golden pyramid,
crowned with a golden throne. “That is for the
King,” said Orellana. On each side of the altar,
and before it, were three other pyramids. But
they were not so high, and were not of gold.
They were of wood. “The pyres,” explained
Orellana.
“ The pyres! What do you mean, man?"
“Steady, steady! They're not going to burn
her. She's the Bride of the Sun, and they wall
her up. Burn her, indeed! It's not done, I tell
you. Every Aïmara child knows that. Little
children don't see the Temple of Death unless
they are to die in it, but they know that much.
Burn my daughter, indeed! As if I would allow
it! What do you think I brought this pick for?
You do just as well not to answer. Much better
remain silent than talk nonsense like that. If
you look at the walls out there you'll see a big
porphyry slab between each gold panel. There
are just a hundred of them, and behind each one
is one of the Sun's brides. If I only knew which
tomb my daughter was in, I would have had her
out a long time ago. But the slabs are all just
alike, and there is nothing to help a poor father
in his search. This time, though, I'm watching,
and as soon as they've gone, I shall save her.”
“ She may be dead, smothered alive, when you
get her out.” Dick, thinking hard while the old


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
261
man babbled on in whispers, was hoping against
hope.
“ That just shows how little you know about
it. They are deep tombs, like cupboards, and
you can sit in them. Don't you know the In-
dians always bury people sitting? There's air
enough in there to keep her alive for an hour, or
even two. And I shall have her out in ten min-
utes!”
Dick stared blindly at the porphyry slabs be-
fore him.
“But if there are a hundred of them in there
already, there isn't room for another. Are you
sure? ..."
“Of course I am. You needn't worry, boy.
The pyres are for the two mammaconas who go
before the Bride to prepare her chamber in the
Enchanted Realms of the Sun."
“ There are three pyres, though."
“ Naturally. They have to take out the old-
est bride to make room for my daughter. Then
they burn her. What else should they do?"
“ Burn her? Then they do burn her!”
Dick had almost lost control of his mind.
6. The old one, you fool!” retorted Orellana
testily. “Didn't I tell you there were a hun-
dred there? The Sun is given a new bride every
ten years. Can you count, or can't you? That
makes one of them a thousand years old. ...


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
263
mic throbbing of canticles. Then a terrible
scream tore the air. Dick gripped Orellana's
arm.
“ What was that?” he asked hoarsely.
“ Nothing to do with us. They're sacrificing
a child in the Black Chapel of Pacahuamac, the
Pure Spirit.”


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN :
265
barbaric emblem with wide-open jaws, destined
to frighten away all evil spirits.
Dick thought that Maria-Teresa was entering,
but then saw that the litter borne on the shoul.
ders of nobles was occupied by a figure which he
did not at first recognize. His robe and sandals
seemed of solid gold, and his ears were weighted
down with enormous ear-rings, reaching almost
to the shoulders. About his head was the royal
llantu, a multi-colored turban of delicate tissue,
and his forehead was further adorned by the
kingly borla, the heavy scarlet and gold fringe
of which partly hid his eyes. Two coraquenque
plumes towered above the crown.
As he descended from his litter, aided by two
pages, and slowly mounted the steps of the
golden pyramid, the assembly bent to its knees.
At the summit of the pyramid, he paused gravely,
took his seat on the golden throne, and gave the
Aïmara greeting :-“ Dios anki tiourata.”
Then all rose to their feet, while he sat motion.
less, like a graven image.
“ The bank-clerk!” exclaimed Dick, as he
faced toward the hidden watchers.
They had before them Huayna Capac Runtu,
King of the Incas.
“ The god is seated in all his light!” chanted
the assembly in unison, repeating the words
three times. Then the wail of the quenias filled


266
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
the air, and the religious cortège entered the
temple, led by the four Guards of the Sacrifice,
their heads erect now, for the sacred bonnets hid
no secret. Behind them walked another Red
Poncho, bearing in his hands a mass of knotted
cords. Dick recognized the Preacher of Caja-
marca, head of the quipucamyas, or Keepers of
the Historic Word. Then came Huascar, in the
saffron-colored vestments of the high-priest, pre-
ceded by lesser dignitaries of the church, while
four curacas held over him a canopy of brilliant-
hued plumes. All bowed before Huascar; the
Inca alone was above him.
From the high-priest's stern face and somber
eyes, Dick looked to his hands, to see if they
were red with the blood of sacrifice. He felt a
wild desire to shoot him down there, to kill him
like a mad dog among his priests and servitors.
The mammaconas advanced, chanting. He
could not at first see Maria-Teresa, hidden from
view by black veils, rhythmically waved about
her. The movement ceased and the women
parted, leaving the way clear for the two among
them who were to die and who advanced with
uncovered faces, smiling like happy children.
The quenias ceased their song, and the second
litter was brought forward in solemn silence.
Dick shivered. Was Maria-Teresa dead or


270
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
Huascar, taking evergreen branches from a
golden vase held by two virgins, bound them in
their hair as a sign that the virtues they had
acquired must last for all time. Then, one by
one, he called their names to the King, who, as
each young man knelt before him, pierced his
ears with a golden awl. They descended, their
white robes smeared with blood, while Huascar,
from another vase, took heavy ear-rings, with
which he adorned them. Nothing in the young
faces betrayed their suffering. Then all raised
their hands and took the oath of bravery and of
fealty to the Inca.
“ That is well,” said the King. “Let them
now put on their sandals."
This part of the ceremony was performed by
the quipucamyas, the most venerable among
them strapping on the young men's feet the san.
dals of the Order of the Incas.
" That is well,” repeated the King. “ Let
them be given their girdles.” Again the old men
passed down the ranks, buckling on the heavy
war-belts.
“ That is well,” said the King for the third
time. “And I say unto you before the dead
King and the Coya who is to die, that they may
repeat it to your ancestors, that our race is
still the first of all living races, for you are the
pure Children of the Sun, without earthly


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
271
leaven, the brother having always drunk the
blood of the sister!”
The virgins advanced, taking the places of the
young men on the steps of the throne, while
fathers and brothers intoned the Aïmara Song of
Triumph.
“ The savages! The savages !” raged Dick,
thinking only of vengeance now that he thought
Maria-Teresa was dead. He balanced the re-
volver in his palm, hesitating. There were at
all events Huascar and the King he could bring
down; that would be some satisfaction. But
suppose Maria-Teresa was not dead after all?
He might still save her. For a moment he
thought she had moved. He questioned Orel.
lana in a whisper. “My daughter is very tired,
and must be sleeping," replied the madman.
Meanwhile the cap-skulled Guardian of the
Temple had made a little incision on the throat
of each virgin, gathering their blood in a gold
ewer. When the cup was full, he touched it with
his lips and handed it to the young men, among
whom it passed from hand to hand, while the
girls, proud of their light wounds, cried, “ Glory
to the Children of the Sun!”
“ The cup is empty,” announced Huascar.
At his words the King rose, and holding up
both arms to the heavens, implored the Sun to
give the signal for the sacrifice.


272
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
Clouds of pungent incense rose from the burn-
ers, and gradually hid from view the azure disc
overhead. The mammaconas who were to die,
obeying the ritual, ran forward to the King's
feet.
“We implore you, O King, to stop all the
smokes of the earth. They hide his face, and the
Sun cannot give the signal for the sacrifice.”
At a sign from the figure on the golden pyra-
mid, the burners were extinguished, and the
spot of blue gradually reappeared. The Guar-
dians of the Temple, by the pyres, held in their
hands metal mirrors, drawing the sun to a little
heap of cotton in the center of each resinous
pile. Thus did the god, of his own will, give the
signal for the sacrifice! There were no stakes
on the pyres, no chains; the victims must die
willingly.
While the throng about them chanted prayers,
the two mammaconas watched the pyres. They
feared that the god might reject them; then they
would live, shunned by all, until they disap-
peared. Their eyes, large with hope in the
mercy of the divinity, anxiously awaited the first
flicker of flame.
If the pyre destined to the thousand-year-old
Coya did not take fire, it did not mean that the
new one was distasteful to the god. It meant
merely that the old one had not known how to


III
DICK's head swam. There, before him, was the
narrow tomb into which Maria Teresa would be
plunged living. But was she still living? She
must have died when the child was torn from
her arms, or when she had heard his terrible cry.
The priests had lifted the dead Coya from her
tomb, and carried her to the pyre. She sat
severely erect, as Coyas should sit, even when
slowly done to death in a living tomb. So she
must sit, and that is why the tomb is made so
narrow that she can only remain motionless on
her throne.
Erect and calm, she vanished in the flames of
the pyre, while the two living mammaconas
watched her enviously.
Dick did not even glance at the pyres. His
eyes were fixed on the hole in the wall. She
could not live long in there, and they must lose
no time if she was to be saved. One hand
gripped Orellana's pick, while the other, armed
with a revolver, still hesitated. Perhaps Maria-
Teresa was not dead yet! But, if so, why did
she not open her eyes?
274


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
277
sheath as well, Maria-Teresa appeared swathed
in bands of soft material. Her eyes were closed,
and externally at all events, she was already a
mummy. Her arms were bound to her sides, and
all that remained to be done was to lift her into
her tomb. Dick's eyes did not leave what could
still be seen of the beloved face under the bands
of perfumed linen which bound her chin and
forehead. Her lips were parted, but motionless,
as if she had just breathed her last sigh.
Again he told himself that she must be dead.
It was better so, for then she could not feel the
hands of the horrible Guardians of the Temple
lift her to the death-throne and then slide her
into the hole where she was to wait a thousand
years before being burned in her turn.
At that moment the rays of the Sun, as if to
make a golden ladder for the woman whom the
Incas, in their cruel piety, were sending to his
realms, fell on Maria Teresa, and lit up the nar.
row tomb, so that Dick saw every detail of the
atrocious ceremony.
The three porphyry slabs, fitting perfectly one
into the other, had now to be adjusted, and the
tomb would be closed. It was done in terrible
silence, and all eyes were fixed on workers and
victim.
Bending under its weight, the Guardians of
the Temple slipped the first into position, hiding


IV
HUASCAR raised his hand, and the temple began
to empty in silence. There was not a song, not
a murmur, only the slip of innumerable sandals
on the stone slabs of the floor. Huascar and
his priests, the nobles, young men, virgins, cur.
acas and mammaconas crossed the threshold of
the golden doors.
Huayna Capac Runtu had descended from his
throne and taken his seat beside the dead King,
on the seat left vacant by Maria-Teresa; the
Red Ponchos lifted the two monarchs, the dead
and the living, to their shoulders, and in their
turn vanished into the Corridor of Night.
There remained in the hall only the Guardians
of the Temple and the ashes of the first victims.
Hardly had the three gnomes closed the doors
to carry out their horrible duties in peace than
a shadow rose up before them. Squeaking with
terror, they fled into the Chapel of the Moon,
but vengeance followed them there, and it was
at the foot of its altar that they were shot down
like loathsome beasts. White as Maria-Teresa
had been, but icy-cool in the moment of action,
Dick fired only one shot into each hideous skull.
279


280
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
Then he turned and ran into the temple, where
Orellana was already raining blows on the tomb
with his pick. Dick wrenched the tool from his
hands, and set to work. But the stones did not
move. His forehead covered with icy perspira-
tion, he forced himself to think, to reason, try-
ing to forget Maria-Teresa in her tomb and bring
his engineer's knowledge to bear on the problem.
Those stones could not be very heavy. Orellana
and he could lift them easily if the three dwarfs
could. They were evidently made light so that
they could be readily removed by the priests at
certain ceremonies. But what was their secret?
What was their secret?
Quelling the moral storm that would have sent
him raging impotently against this rampart, he
compelled himself to look for the jointing of the
stones. His hands were trembling, so he stopped
for a minute to control himself, and then tried
again. Again he failed. How were they moved?
He had seen them put back into position before
his eyes, so there must be a way. But where
was he to press, where strike? And meanwhile
Maria-Teresa was dying behind those stones!
Dying!
Again he raised the pick, whirled it over his
head, and struck at random, on the left side of
the stone. Every ounce of his strength, doubled
by despair, had been put into that blow, and the


TURNING from the century-dead Coya with an
inarticulate cry of rage, Dick seized Orellana by
the throat as if he would have strangled the poor
madman, who had started work on the wrong
tomb. And he, thrice accursed fool that he was,
had followed the madman's lead, made a mistake
when every minute might mean Maria-Teresa's
life!
And now, which was it? The tomb on the
right or that on the left? Or neither?
Loosing the old man, he controlled himself
again by a superhuman effort and looked round
the temple. No, there could be no mistake this
time. It must be the one on the right. He
looked for the angle from their hiding-place to
the altar. Yes, this was the one!
The pick thundered on another slab, while
Orellana, a raving maniac now, danced and gib-
bered behind him, grunting with every blow as
if he himself had delivered it.
At last the stone turned. . . . It moved ...
slid into their arms ... fell to the ground.
“ Maria-Teresa! It is I, Dick! For God's
sake, speak!"
282


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN 283
Again he bent over the rigid face of a long-
forgotten Coya.
Dick fell to the ground as if stunned. But
Orellana was already at work again, setting him
the example, and the young engineer was on his
feet in a moment. It must be that other one on
the left, then! Once again he wrenched the pick
from the old man's feeble hands and hammered
on the granite. ... The minutes are flying ...
flying. And She may be dying behind that slab,
struggling for breath! ... The thunder of blows
echoed through the hall ... the stone moved
... slipped . . . fell. . . . At last. . . . No!
... Another dead woman. ... Another, an-
other! ... Not Maria-Teresa!
“ Maria Cristina! My daughter! Dearest, I.
am coming! Your father is here!”
While Dick staggered to the wall, staring be-
fore him with blind eyes, the old man, peering
into the tomb, had recognized his child.
“ Maria Cristina! Dearest! Wait, wait!
Only one more stone, and you will be out of your
prison!”
Sobbing and laughing in turn, Orellana
worked desperately, finding the strength of his
youth anew.
Then Dick fell on him.
“Give me that pick. You're wasting time on
a dead woman. Give it to me, I say!”


284
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
There was a terrible struggle between the two,
and Dick, triumphant, whirled the tool over his
head at another tomb, while Orellana, by the last
effort of his life, tore the second stone from its
socket, drew the dead body of his daughter to
him and covered it with kisses and tears. Old
madman and dead girl fell to the floor together.
Orellana was dead, but he had found his
daughter.
Dick saw and heard nothing. Another tomb
open ... and another dead Coya of long ago.
... The gods of the Temple of Death were ready
to give up their dead, but not the living
bride. ...
Crying, calling, driving his nails into his
bleeding palms; ready to offer himself up to the
ferocious spirit that guarded those tombs, Dick
staggered, fell, and got up again, dragging be-
hind him the pick, which he no longer knew
where to use, striving to reason and understand.
There was nothing here to help him! His
eyes wandered hopelessly round the circular
temple, trying to find a guiding point. Noth-
ing! Perhaps chance would give him what his
reasoning had failed to secure. . . . Yes, that
was it ... why not try here? ... It might be
this tomb as well as any other. ... He set to
work again, but heavily ... oh, so heavily ...
and the pick weighed down his hands terribly.


VI
In which it is seen that lovers should never
despair of Providence
One morning, as the little steamboat which runs
between the Island of Titicaca and the mainland,
was plowing its way through the waters of the
lake, it was hailed by a tall Quichua Indian,
standing upright in his pirogue. In the bottom
of the frail craft lay a white man, and the cap.
tain, seeing the prostrate figure, hove to for a
moment to pick it up. Thus did Dick Mont-
gomery return to civilization.
Among the passengers of the Yavari was a
good-hearted alpaca merchant of Punho who took
pity on the fever-stricken stranger and had him
removed to his own home, where the whole house-
hold devoted itself to nursing the young man
back to life. The Indian who brought him to the
steamer explained that he had found the stran-
ger, probably some tourist, unconscious among
the ruins of the sacred island. He had therefore
dosed him with pink water for the fever, and
had brought him back to people of his own race.
The Indian refused all reward, and the captain
286


288
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
in the homely surroundings of the office at Cal-
lao, among the big green registers, where they
had met again after so long an absence and
where they had exchanged words of love. He
would go there to rejoin her.
Once this decision was taken, he grew rapidly
better, and one day, after warmly thanking his
host and showering presents on the whole fam-
ily, he took the train to Mollendo, where he
would join some ship for Callao. The voyage
seemed an interminable one. At Arequipa, he
visited the little adobe house by the rio de Chili,
and thought of the vain appeal they had made
to that scoundrel Garcia. There also, for the
first time since his illness, he thought of his
traveling companions.
What had happened to Uncle Francis, Don
Christobal and Natividad? Perhaps their bones
were then bleaching in some inaccessible corner
of the Corridors of Night. The Marquis, at all
events, had not endured the torture of impotently
witnessing the murder of his two children.
When Dick reached Mollendo there was a
howling gale on, but he at once went down to
the harbor. It was deserted save for two shad-
ows, which rushed toward him with cries of joy.
Yes, they were alive and breathing:- Uncle
Francis and Natividad! Though white and
sad-looking, they did not seem to have suffered


290
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
ploit on those same plains of Xauxa, while the
same ancient walls, with the impassability of
immortal things, again stared down on the strug-
gle of the races.
Garcia had escaped over the Bolivian fron-
tier, and was on the point of blowing out his
brains when he heard of a revolution in Para-
guay which made life worth living again. So
he crossed into Paraguay with his lawless “cab-
inet,” to the great satisfaction of the President
of Bolivia.
From Sicuani, Uncle Francis and Natividad
had gone straight to Mollendo, hoping to find
the Marquis there, if the new fortunes of the
republic had also opened the doors of his prison.
As to Dick, they had not expected to see him
until Lima, “after he had done everything to
save Maria-Teresa.”
It was the first time that they had pronounced
her name before him, and Dick saw a very real
and very great sympathy in their faces.
“ She is dead," he said, gripping his uncle's
shoulder.
“ Poor boy!"
They paced up and down again, silently, be-
fore the raging breakers of the Pacific, which
had already kept two of them prisoners in Mol.
lendo for the past ten days. Dick would not
say another word, and his companions, ignorant


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
293
He hardly dared breathe, fearing that the vision
would vanish at the sound of his voice.... He
advanced cautiously, stealthily, like a child
stalking a butterfly.
“ Dick!”
“ Maria-Teresa!”
They are in each other's arms. The cry which
has come from those pale lips is a living one.
They clung to each other, trembling, laughing,
crying, and would have fallen in their weakness
had not other shadows come to their aid.
Aunt Agnes and her duenna, Irene, held up
Maria-Teresa, while Don Christobal, running out
into the street, caught the young engineer under
the arm, and led him slowly in.
Little Christobal, dancing at the door of the
office, shouted with glee and clapped his hands
together.
“I told you so, Maria-Teresa! I told you he
wasn't dead! ... Now you'll get better, Maria-
Teresa!”
Maria-Teresa, in Dick's arms again, was sob-
bing.
“I knew you would come back here if you were
still alive. . . . But is it really you, Dick? ...
Really you?”
“ Maria-Teresa has been awfully ill,” ex-
plained the child, while the two old ladies cried.
“But we cured her by telling her you were not


294
THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
dead. Of course I knew Huascar had saved you
too. ... Huascar saved us all, you know. ...
He took us away from all those nasty Indians.
... And father said that we should all be
dead but for him. Didn't you, Father? ...
But now you mustn't die any more, must
you?”
“I was there, Maria-Teresa. I saw them put
you into the tomb."
“ You were there, then! I knew it. I felt
your eyes on mine, and that's why I looked. I
knew you were watching . . . somewhere. ...
When they took Christobal away from me I
thought I should die. ... Huascar had told me
he would be quite safe, but I couldn't believe it.
... Then that horrible cry!... I didn't open
my eyes again until I felt yours on them. ... I
knew you were there, dear.”
The two old ladies and the Marquis were mak-
ing desperate signs to him, and Dick tried to
stop her, but she went on:-
“I knew you wouldn't leave me there to die,
and so I waited, waited. . . . It was terribly
long. . . . And then I began to choke. ...I
couldn't move; only sit there and wait. ...
What does it matter, Father, now that we're all
alive and happy? ... Then I heard somebody
thundering blows on the wall, and thought you
were coming. ... Only just in time, for I was


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
297
interview at Arequipa, and gave me a message
for you. Here it is :
“Tell that young man, whom I do not know,
that the señorita will be as free as her heart,
which is mine neither to take, to buy nor to sell.
He must know that. I have done him no harm,
and he has insulted me. I forgive him.'
“ Then, as he was about to go, he turned
again :-
“Do not thank me, señor. Thank the one
who is now in heaven, and who was the Señora
de la Torre. I ask for only one thing in ex-
change for my services, and that is for you never
to speak of them. The memory of the High
Priest of the Incas must not be dishonored.'
“ That is Huascar's message, Dick. There is
no reason why you should not marry Maria-
Teresa.”
At this moment Uncle Francis and Natividad
dashed into the room. On their way from the
harbor, they had learned of the Marquis' mirac-
ulous return to Lima with his two children, and
hearing that the whole family had come to Cal-
lao that day — Maria-Teresa to see her dear old
office for the last time! they had come there
running. Aunt Agnes and Irene, anxious for
their charge's health, would have taken her
away, but the young girl insisted that this


THE BRIDE OF THE SUN
299
everything. He was so comical that they all
burst into laughter, while the little old gentle-
man, purple with fury, strode toward the door.
“ Not so quick, Natividad, not so quick!”
called the Marquis after him. “There is also
some good news for you. You have been ap-
pointed inspector superior at Lima."
Again Natividad fell into a chair, but beam-
ing, stuttering with joy and gratitude.
“ It's a dream ... the dream of my life. ...
I might have been dead though!”
“ The appointment, which I saw President
Veintemilla sign, is, of course, only valid in the
event of your being living," smiled the Marquis.
" As those Indians of yours haven't eaten you
alive, you can keep an eye on them again.”
“Hush! We must not talk about it,” replied
Natividad, the magistrate's toga weighing on his
shoulders again.
“ And neither shall we,” whispered Dick, bend-
ing over Maria-Teresa's pale face.
She nodded slowly. “Do you know, Dick,
looking round me and seeing the same old chairs
and books again, the same dear faces, and when
I think of the Temple of Death, it really does
only seem like an ugly dream.”
Natividad, having said good-by to all, was
talking to the Marquis by the door. He opened
it and fell back with a muffled exclamation.




















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