As the Inca drew near she would have knelt, but he stayed her quickly, and taking her hand, reverently carried it to his lips. "May the sun shine brightly upon thee this day, my sister," said he. "Thou ’rt abroad early. I thought to find the garden deserted." "I have been walking, my lord," she replied, with eyes still lowered, and drew almost imperceptibly away. "I was about to return." "Nay: let me walk with thee. Perhaps I can tell thee something to lighten thy heart. Come." "Ah, my lord," she sighed, raising her eyes to his with a swift glance, and turning them away filled with tears. "I know—I know! Thou grievest for our unfortunate brother Huascar," he said kindly. "It was partly on his account that I had thee come to Caxamalca. I would not have thee mourn needlessly, nor think me a monster in holding him in brief imprisonment. It is against my wish, believe me, and only to prevent renewal of the late unhappy war." "Oh, most unhappy, most dreadful, my lord!—and between my brothers!" she answered with a sob. "Most dreadful!" repeated Atahualpa, gravely. "Yet thou knowest how it was forced upon me." "Forced upon thee, my lord? They told me different." "They told thee falsely!" he exclaimed. "Dost thou not know how it was brought about?—I fear not, in its truth. Then let us walk whilst I tell thee." He passed his arm about her fondly, and led her down the avenue. "Thou knowest, Rava," he began after they had taken a few steps, "the will of our father, given at Cuzco some months before his death, by which the kingdom of Quito was bequeathed to me, and Cuzco to Huascar. Thou knowest that for several years we reigned in peace, each in his own domain. So it might have continued had Huascar been content. But, chafing under the loss of Quito, which but for me would have been one of his provinces, he sent an ambassador demanding that I acknowledge myself vassal and feudatory. It was a challenge, and what reply could there be but war? Huascar’s misfortunes flow from his misguided ambition and impious disregard of our father’s will." "Oh, pardon him, pardon him, my brother!" implored the princess, turning to him and pressing her clasped hands to her breast. "He was ill-advised. He was hounded to his fault, I know, by wicked ministers. Most bitterly hath Cuzco repented it!" "Cuzco!—it may be," replied Atahualpa, slowly; "but Huascar—However, it is my purpose to pardon him, Rava; so banish thine unhappiness. For the present, for the sake of the tranquillity of the empire, we must hold him. But when that is assured he shall be free. Weep no more." "Oh, Atahualpa, what words will tell thee my heart’s gratitude!" sobbed the young girl, taking his hand in both her own. "Thou knowest not what my grief hath been!"