"For such as that, my Lord Inca," replied Cristoval, ignoring the precious ornaments. Atahualpa gazed at him for a moment in silence, the look of astonishment in his eyes rapidly yielding to one of anger. "Dost mean to say," he demanded, in a voice grown suddenly harsh, "that this measureless calamity hath been brought upon me and mine by the childish desire of thy people for these trumperies? Great God! Are you madmen, that you count human lives paltry beside this dross which we dig from the earth? Are the murder of my people and the base treachery to me but trifles?" "My lord, even greater wrongs have been committed for the love of gold. Few crimes in the fiend’s category but have sprung from it. It hath reddened the earth with blood, and made hell populous." Cristoval encountered a look of mingled wonder and abhorrence. It was some seconds before Atahualpa spoke. Then he said slowly: "Strange beings! Do you consider that it hath some magic virtue, this gold, or doth it not possess some hidden power to give madness?" "Both, my Lord Inca! It hath a magic that can bring all things to its possessor—save only happiness, love, and salvation; and it can cause madness." "It is a riddle!" exclaimed the Inca, with impatience. "But enough! Thou tellest me you have come for gold. Dost thou want gold, Viracocha Cristoval? Hear me!" He drew near and lowered his voice, speaking rapidly and with intensity: "I would be free! I want thine aid and friendship. I can give thee more gold than thou couldst carry the length of this garden—more than thou and the strongest of thy companions could raise from the ground!" Cristoval raised his hand: "My Lord Inca, I pray you, do not offer it. My friendship cannot be purchased. You have it now; and when my aid availeth you shall have that also, though not for gold, my lord. I will do all in my power in your behalf and to procure your freedom. I know not my commander’s design, but should a greater evil threaten you than hath already befallen, reckon my sword, if need be, in your defence." Atahualpa studied him intently. The sincerity of Peralta’s tone was in his eyes, and not to be mistaken. "Viracocha Cristoval," said the monarch after a pause, giving his hand, "I know not whether an Inca ever before asked forgiveness of any man, but I ask thine now! I believe I know thy friendship’s worth."