*CHAPTER XXVIII* _*Two Comrades Reunited*_ Never a knight rode forth with more of chivalry than dwelt beneath sturdy Pedro’s breastplate when he set out in quest of Cristoval. He went with little hope of doing more than saying a few prayers at the grave of the cavalier and marking it with a cross; but for these offices he would have traversed a continent. Cristoval lay beneath an awning at the villa of the Curaca Huallampo, well bolstered and pillowed, and bandaged to a condition of almost total rigidity. He was looking moodily over the sparkling lake when his reverie was disturbed by the approach of his host, accompanied, unmistakably accompanied, by the familiar sound of a peg. The cavalier was startled half erect, but sank back weakly as Pedro appeared with Huallampo. The cook was breathless from a climb of the hill at his utmost speed. At sight of his friend he increased his pace across the terrace, grasped the extended hand, but instead of speaking, compressed his lips as a spasm crossed his face. Roaring his words to conceal his unsteadiness of voice, he exclaimed:— "_Hola_, Cristoval! Do I see thee in the flesh? Blessed Virgin, it is so! Why, man, I came to weep over thy grave! But ’t is thou, in very truth!" "God bless thee, Pedro," said Cristoval, with moistened eyes, pressing the cook’s hand. "So He hath done, old friend, in letting me see thee again. But, _Santa Maria_! thou ’lt wrapped, and swathed, and beragged, and swaddled, like a sore finger! Canst wiggle thy toes? Ah! ’T is a comfort. Any broken bones? No? _Bueno_! Just full of holes—pricked, punctured, pinked, and perforated! Hum! It might be worse. The _curaca_ saith thou ’rt mending fast." Cristoval nodded. "Pedro," he began anxiously, then stopped. "Well, say on, _amigo_," said the cook, seating himself. "Dost know—aught of Rava?" "That I do! She is safe in the care of Father Tendilla." Cristoval closed his eyes and turned away, his lips moving. Pedro eyed him curiously, and shook his head. Both were silent. "Tell me about it, Pedro," at last. "Nay," said Pedro. "It is too long a story for the present. The _curaca_ warneth me against much talking. Thou must be content to know that she is unharmed. Shortly I’ll tell thee, and much history besides. But the Ñusta Rava is in good hands." Permitting no further conversation, he sat long, surveying the cavalier with great satisfaction while Huallampo gave him an inventory of the various hurts.