Lifting her limp body tenderly, I carried her into the house of the Virgins of the Sun, and when presently her senses returned, she found herself in my arms and looked into my eyes which, like her own, were dim with tears of happiness. Almost as happy as myself, the prince smiled down at her, while all about us the Virgins of the Sun hovered half-timidly and murmured soft words of sympathy and delight, for having been told of Kinchi Haman’s death and assured that the sacrifices to the Sun God were at an end, they had forgotten their fears and had ministered to Itza, chafing her hands and bathing her forehead. For a space we were oblivious to everything but our own great joy. We were in a world of our own, a world unknown to all but reunited lovers, until Itza noticed my bleeding, lacerated arm--which I had quite forgotten myself--and instantly she was all pity and solicitude. By the time the wounds had been washed and bandaged, Itza declared herself as strong and well as ever, and accompanied by the freed girls--who now would never become brides of Kinich Ahau--we retraced our way through the hidden passages of the temple. As we passed once more through that circular room with its monstrous image of the Sun God, I delayed a moment and having swung the massive idol into place, I turned the gift of Nohul Voh upon the golden disc on the statue’s chest. Before the amazed and wondering eyes of all, the metal fused and melted and forever closed the only way that led to the dismal well that formed the grave of Kinchi Haman. Out from the temple and into the waning sunlight of the afternoon we came at last, to find our men, cowering, shamefaced, surrounded by the awed, half-curious, half-terrified crowd awaiting they knew not what. From the lips of our wild-eyed men they had heard of what had transpired, of our having entered the holy of holies, of my desecration of the sacred image, and had Kinich Ahau appeared in the flesh to wreak vengeance upon us, had the sun itself descended in righteous wrath, had the temple crumpled to bits to bury us beneath its ruins, the people would not have been surprised. But surprise and inexpressible wonder was theirs when they saw us emerge, unharmed, with Itza, and accompanied by the Virgins of the Sun. For a moment every sound, every voice was hushed, and then from thousands of throats a mighty cheer arose and with one accord the people prostrated themselves before us. And as the released maidens sought relatives and loved ones, and spread the news of the high priest’s end, shouts of joy, cries of delight mingled in a bedlam of sound. It was as if a terrible incubus had been lifted from the city, and as the joyful people pressed about us, we were compelled to call upon our guards to force a way through which we could pass to the palace.