Once more the bugles sounded, but this time it was the royal fanfare of twelve loud blasts; it announced the coming of the one to be crowned king. At last the great moment had arrived. The assembled thousands uncovered their heads and reverently awaited the appearance of their white ruler. A single figure walked out upon the stage, clad in a simple white tunic and scarlet sandals. Not a jewel, not an ornament of gold, adorned the newcomer, and this fact alone was unexpected and startling to the multitude. But the thing that caused them to gasp in even greater astonishment was that the lone figure was not Stanley--but Quizquiz. They were speechless with amazement. Where a thunderous roar should have greeted the appearance of the sovereign, there was the silence of death. Quizquiz, pale but unafraid, stood in the centre of the dais and faced the people. He said nothing, but in his eyes there shone a new light that bespoke courage, firmness of purpose, and at the same time repentance. After standing quietly for a few minutes he spoke in a clear, steady voice: “The past cannot be recalled. You know what my conduct was. I have no excuses to make. I was a fool. Judge me as you will, do with me as you will. I am ready to abide by your decision.” The surprise had been so overwhelming that for a short time no one was able to utter a word. They simply stared, unable to believe their eyes. But finally Huascar, he who had been condemned to be boiled in oil, assumed the rôle of spokesman: “It is Quizquiz,” he cried hoarsely, “who wanted to kill us. Where is the white man who saved all of us and who was chosen to be king? Has this evil one done away with our benefactor, who came from the sky and whose commands even the sun obeys? Is he usurping the power given to another and which he so shamefully gave up?” “The white king!” other voices took up the cry. “We want the white king who saved us from the darkness and the demons, and----” At this juncture Stanley, who had been waiting on the rear of the stage, thought it best to show himself. His appearance was the signal for a demonstration of welcome that sounded like the rumble of thunder. “Hail! Hail the king!” and “Let him be crowned at once!” the multitude shouted until Stanley raised his hand to command silence. “I am not unappreciative of this, the greatest of all honors, which you offer me,” he said with feeling, “and I thank you. My companion and I did not come here to rule you.” “You saved the nation from destruction,” Huascar shouted. “Do not desert us now.” “Our work is finished. Therefore we shall return again to our own people.” “And leave us to the mercy of Quizquiz the Tyrant? Never!” “Wait! Quizquiz is the son of Huayna Capac, whom you all loved and venerated for his many noble qualities. Does it seem possible that the son of the Inca so justly beloved for his kindness, justice, and understanding should have inherited none of his father’s greatness?”