The Inca had started partly to his feet, his dark eyes ablaze. He sat again. "Where is the girl?" he demanded, hoarsely. "Cowering in the darkest corner of the darkest chamber of her home, Sapa Inca—half mad—a blighted bud—a blemished pearl!" He turned abruptly upon Almagro, who, unacquainted with the Quichua, had given him little heed, lolling wearily in his chair. "O, thou Viracocha, offspring of Supay!" cried the old Indio, shaking his clenched hands toward the Spaniard, "dost yawn at my sorrow, monster? Hast the heart of a wolf—thou who wearest the aspect of a man? May the great Inti strike thee with thrice my grief, thrice mine infirmities!" Almagro, listening with some surprise to the violent apostrophe, looked toward the younger Pizarro: "What saith he, Juan?" "By God, he hath told a tale of bitter wrong, Diego!" responded the other, vehemently. "One of our men hath stolen his girl. It calleth for the garrote, or I’m an Ethiopian!" Almagro sat up and glanced quickly at the Inca, who raised his hand to silence the complainant, and was now regarding the commandant with stern eyes and burning cheeks. "Viracocha Almagro," said Manco, "before thy general went from Cuzco he engaged that neither house nor person of my subjects should suffer violation. Thy soldier hath committed a crime which is punished in Tavantinsuyu with death. I look to thee for vindication." "Why, blood and wounds!" exclaimed the cavalier, when Manco’s words had been translated. "Tell him, Juan, that we will indemnify with—Fiends! but these people set no store by money. Say, then, that we will punish with any just severity—short of death. That is out of reason." The Inca’s eyes were fixed steadily upon Almagro while the answer was being made known to him. "Viracocha," he said coldly, "this outrage is not the first of its kind. Now, I demand the penalty of death." Almagro’s scarred face flushed as his single eye met the Inca’s frown, and he replied bluntly: "I refuse! Tell him I refuse, Juan. We’ll make what reparation lieth within our power, but curse me if we’ll waste a soldier at any man’s behest!" and Almagro glanced defiantly from the Inca to the stern faces of his nobles. Manco rose abruptly, dismissed his court with a few quick words, and left the dais. As he passed the old man he spoke to him in an undertone, and touching his white head lightly as he sank upon his knees, moved toward the door, followed by his suite. Almagro sprang to his feet. "How now, my puppet king! Dost turn us an angry back? For the price of a breath of air I’d trim the fringe from thy toy of a diadem!" "Not so loud, Diego!" remonstrated Juan Pizarro. "He hath good offence. I tell thee, we are not wise to make light of this soldier’s trespass, _amigo_. One such outrage unpunished will breed a thousand, and before we are aware the country will be about our ears. ’T is a cut at their tenderest sensibility. I say, hang the knave and keep the peace."