The cavalier thanked him and looked about. The building was of the customary massiveness and severity of style, modified somewhat by numerous windows and niches, and by the sculptured border surrounding each doorway. This decoration struck Cristoval forcibly as being identical with the simpler forms of Grecian frets seen in European architecture. Among the trees on either side were smaller buildings for the accommodation of the Palla’s servants. The site had been chosen with the fine appreciation of natural beauty of surroundings characteristic of the ancient Peruvians. From the foot of the hill the lake spread out like a mirror, reflecting in perfect detail every rugged feature of the opposite mountains, with here and there a streak of silver where its surface was ruffled by the morning breeze. To the right was the village of Xilcala, and ten miles or more beyond, the narrow gorge through which the waters of the lake found exit on their way to the distant sierra. On his left, toward the canyon he had descended the day before, was a stretch of rolling fields with groups of men at work, and he caught the plaintive melody of a ploughing-song. He listened, impressed by the sense of peace which pervaded the valley, and descended the steps to the avenue. The bank was terraced to the water’s edge, each terrace with its trees, shrubbery, winding paths, and nooks with benches inviting idleness. At the margin of the lake was a sunny space, or hemicycle, from which opened a charming panorama of the lake; and surrounding it were broad, high-backed stone seats, shaded by overhanging foliage. One bench was covered with rugs and cushions, and bits of half-finished embroidery indicated the recent presence of the ladies. The cavalier turned into the path along the shore. He had not gone far before he heard voices, and another step brought him face to face with his hostess. She was advancing slowly, her arms encircling a maiden on each side. They walked with hands resting affectionately on her shoulders, bending forward and listening, the attention of all so engaged in conversation that Cristoval had been unheard. The Palla started slightly when she perceived her guest, but disengaged herself and came to greet him. "May the Sun shine kindly upon you this morning, Viracocha Cristoval," she said, offering her hand. "I rejoice to see that your recent hardships have left few traces." Her cordiality and freedom from constraint, due in part to his altered appearance, but in a great degree also to Rava’s influence, placed the cavalier at ease, and he forgot his knees. "The traces must be deep indeed," he replied, "not to be banished by the gracious hospitality of the Palla Maytalca. The hardships are no longer remembered."