And now, behind the great doors giving upon the square the companies waited in grim readiness: in one of the buildings, the infantry; in another, De Soto’s troop; in a third, that of Hernando Pizarro. The hours had lengthened through the morning, and still they waited in suspense. Under prolonged tension their enthusiasm had waned, and now many a villanous face, recently alight with devotion, grew anxious or lowering. Some time after midday a _chasqui_, or runner, had arrived from the Inca with the announcement that he would come with warriors fully armed, like the Spanish emissaries the day before. Replied Pizarro, "Say to your Señor that in whatever manner he cometh he shall be received as a friend and brother." Then he turned to Hernando with a black scowl: "Let the infidel come as he will!—only Heaven grant that he may not come tardily! Delay is more to be dreaded than an onslaught. A few more hours of this waiting, and the blood of our men will turn to water." Hernando shrugged gloomily, and turned his eyes upon the advancing lines. It was late afternoon before the movement of the Inca’s troops was completed. For any sign of perturbation Pizarro might have been observing a parade; though his thin lips were more than usually compressed, his face a bit more pallid, his taciturnity increased. De Soto was conversing in a low tone with Candia as they surveyed the field. Hernando Pizarro was standing beside his brother on the parapet, muttering occasional oaths. "_Caramba!_" he exclaimed, as the wings of the approaching army began to close in. "It appeareth that the Inca accepteth thine invitation with some emphasis, Francisco! Had we better not change our plans and prepare to defend the town whilst there is yet time? That is a pretty formation for attack, if I ever saw one, and more promising of a fight than of a neighborly visit, I’ll be bound!" "Wait!" replied the commander, shortly. "By the saints, we have little time for waiting! They will be upon us in half an hour; and not even a barricade! Let me take my troop and show them our metal, at least." "Wait!" repeated Pizarro, sternly. Hernando sprang down with a curse, and strode away. At this instant an exclamation broke from De Soto. "Look!—The causeway!"