"What aileth thee! Thou ’rt a fool—a madcap," replied the Morisco, bluntly. "What hare-brained motive hath possessed thee, Cristoval? For two nights and a day I’ve seen thee in the city, careering like a santon pursued of devils." "_Por Dios!_" growled Cristoval; "thou wast not far from putting an estoppel upon it, Abul Hassan." "When I split an arrow on thy casque? I did not know thee, Cristoval, save as a Spaniard—and thou hadst followed me. For what purpose?" "I was not in purpose to follow thee. It was a chance." "Then it might have been a costly chance, for I had it in mind to kill thee, until I found thee killing pikemen. What dost seek in Cuzco?" "The Ñusta Rava." "Ah!" Abul Hassan studied him narrowly, then asked, "Hast friends outside, among the Indios?" Cristoval nodded. "As soon as thou canst move we’ll seek them," said the other. The cavalier shook his head. "I must find the Ñusta Rava," he answered, with resolution. "_Galimatias_! Bosh! Thou’lt find the garrote. Dost know how long thou hast lain thus among these cinders? This is the second day. I found thee yester morning. But, canst eat?" The Morisco had a pouch well supplied, and the cavalier broke his long fast. He wasted no time in words while a morsel remained of his prudent allowance; but finished and refreshed, he asked, "And thou, Abul Hassan, why art thou in Cuzco?" "I am here to be near mine enemies." "Thine enemies!" "The enemies of my race," said Abul Hassan, with a quick flash in his eyes; then, regarding the cavalier steadily, he added, with increasing energy, "and of my faith! For, hear me, Cristoval, I am no more a Christian! I am a follower of Mahomet—an unworthy Mussulman whom Allah hath punished for his apostasy!" Cristoval stared at him, horrified, and crossed himself. At the gesture the old man spat upon the ground in sudden rage. "Ah! The Cross!" he cried, his face drawn in repugnance. "The Cross! The sign accursed! The sign which hath been stamped upon every atrocity the minds of fiends—of Christians—can invent! The sign under which murder, torture of body and soul, wreck of hearts and minds, have been works of piety! I scorn it, spurn it, and hate it with a living hatred!" He spat again and turned away, his gaunt form trembling with passion. Cristoval had gained his feet, suspecting a madman. Abul Hassan controlled himself, and faced the cavalier. "Forget the words, Cristoval—if thou canst. I would not offend thee, but—I have suffered much. Behold me, an old and broken man, but hunted, hunted! Once I had loved ones— O, Allah, thy wrath is hard to bear!" He bowed his head, and Cristoval said hastily: "Say no more, old friend! I owe thee much, and thy words shall not stand between us—nor thy faith, for, by Heaven! I’ve known other gallant men who were not Christians. Let it pass, Abul Hassan." Cristoval changed the subject, and presently the Morisco resumed his usual composure.