the causeway from the Peruvian camp half way to Caxamalca. Surely the projected seizure in the midst of such a host were madness, and without a miracle it would seem that the Christians must abandon their pious purpose. The miracle, however, is not wanting. Just before reaching the entrance in the city, Atahualpa pitches his tents with the intention of passing there the night and entering Caxamalca the next morning. This, the death-blow to the high hopes of the day, Pizarro determines if possible to prevent. Despatching a messenger to the inca, he beseeches him to change his purpose, and to sup with him that night. The inca assents, saying that in view of the lateness of the hour he will bring only a few unarmed attendants. And to his subjects he remarks, "Arms are unnecessary in our intercourse with those engaged in so holy a mission." Hence the miracle. [Sidenote: VISIT OF ATAHUALPA.] Though few in comparison with his entire army, the attendants of Atahualpa numbered several thousands, as just before sunset, slowly and with measured tread, they march up the main avenue toward the plaza keeping step to the sonorous music of the singers and with the dancers who amble before the royal litter. Nearest the person of the monarch are the _orejones_, as the Spaniards styled the Peruvian noblemen, richly attired with armor and crowns of gold and silver, some walking, others in litters, according to their several ranks. Around his neck over a sleeveless waistcoat, the inca wears a band of large emeralds; under the magic borla, the dull, cold, listless look of the preceding evening had given place to an expression of enkindled majesty. Entering the plaza the royal procession deploy to right and left, Atahualpa and his nobles taking their station in the centre, and the Peruvian soldiery filling the remaining space. Profound quiet fills the place, and so hidden behind the forms of his own swarthy warriors are the few Spaniards appearing that Atahualpa, without descending from the litter, casts about him an inquiring glance and asks an attendant, "Have the strangers fled?"[I‑8] At this moment a priest, Vicente de Valverde, accompanied by the interpreter, emerges from one of the halls. In one hand he bears a bible and in the other a crucifix.[I‑9] Approaching the royal litter, the ecclesiastic harangues the inca, beginning with the doctrines of the trinity, creation, redemption, and delegation of authority,[I‑10] and ending with faith, hope, and charity, as manifest in the person of the pirate Pizarro.