When the Inca saw that the price of his ransom had been seized and divided among his captors he very naturally demanded his freedom. But Pizarro placed expediency far above justice, and he had no intention of releasing the captive. On the other hand, he was anxious to get on to Cuzco. He did not want to be burdened with the care of the royal prisoner, if it could be avoided. What was to be done? To one of Pizarro’s character, the end in view was of so much greater importance than the means by which he gained it, that it is not likely he would have found difficulty in securing a pretext for the execution of Atahuallpa, if necessary. But, again good fortune brought to his hand the weapon for his destructive purpose, in the form of rumors to the effect that the friends of Atahuallpa were planning an attack on the Spaniards, and that a large force was encamped only a hundred miles from the city, ready to march on them, seize their gold and carry off the Inca. The unfortunate prisoner was at once charged with being the author of the plot, which probably originated in Pizarro’s own fertile brain. There was a vehement demand for his execution. Pizarro appeared unwilling to take such extreme measures and sent Hernando de Soto—Atahuallpa’s best friend in the camp—at the head of an expedition to find out the truth about the rumored uprising. While De Soto was absent, Pizarro “consented to listen to the importunities of his soldiers,” held a trial in which the Inca was proved guilty of having usurped the throne; of assassinating his brother; of fraud, idolatry, polygamy, and, finally, of attempting to excite an insurrection against the Spaniards. He was condemned to be burnt to death that very night in the plaza; but, in case that he embraced the Christian religion and was baptized, his sentence would be commuted to death by strangulation. The annals of crime furnish no more odious example of heartless cruelty than is shown in Pizarro’s treatment of the Inca sovereign. Not in a single instance did the Conqueror keep faith with the Indian emperor, whom he seized by fraud, persecuted on the flimsiest pretexts, and murdered without a shred of evidence against the condemned. Is it any wonder that when the news of the verdict was conveyed to Atahuallpa he was overwhelmed by the horror of it, and exclaimed: “What have I done that I should meet with such a fate?” It is said that Pizarro was visibly affected when the doomed prince turned to him, and said: “And from your hands, too—you, who have met with friendship and kindness from my people, with whom I have shared my treasures, who have received nothing but benefits from my hands!” But however Pizarro may have been affected, he did not allow any softer impulse to sway him from inflicting death by the _garrote_ on the innocent victim of his ambition.