Few half-truths had ever been more skilfully told, and the words went straight to Atahuallpa’s heart, and carried with them the conviction that their meaning, if they were true, could only be greater degradation and after that hopeless ruin for the land and its people, since none could believe that the invaders, having thus learnt its wealth, would go away contented till they had stripped it bare. He kept silence for some moments, for it was a weighty matter that had to be decided quickly. His decision was soon arrived at. Whether Filipillo’s news was true or false, the more quickly Huascar was removed from Andamarca to some place of safe keeping unknown to the Spaniards the better. He turned to the youth, and said more gently and with a faint note of pleading in his voice-- “Boy, can I trust thee to get me a message swiftly and faithfully conveyed to Challcuchima in the hills yonder above the hot springs? If I can, then thou mayst ask me for any reward that I can give thee.” Filipillo’s small dark eyes twinkled as the Inca said this, and he looked up and answered meekly-- “Yes, Lord. So slight a service for thee is its own reward. There are several of thy runners in the city. I have but to make some excuse to walk with one of them beyond the sentries, tell him the message, and within an hour or so he will be telling it in the ears of Challcuchima.” “This, then, is the message, and let it go quickly,” said Atahuallpa. “Let the runner take my greeting to Challcuchima, and tell him that my will is that he shall instantly send an escort to Andamarca with such speed that it shall arrive there before the Spaniards; that in my name he shall take over the charge of my brother Huascar from the Curaca, and convey him with all speed that he may to such a safe and secret retreat as his judgment shall select, and let his hiding-place on no account come to the knowledge of the invaders, and in token of my authority and command let him take this. Now, begone, and come for thy reward when Challcuchima has done my bidding.” As he said this the Inca plucked a thread of crimson intertwisted with gold from the borla that he still wore in his fallen state, and gave it to Filipillo. The interpreter received it with great show of reverence and with a thrill of delight in his heart, for he knew that the bearer of such a token was the very mouthpiece of the Son of the Sun, and could give orders as sacred as the command of his own lips. He pressed it to his forehead and bowed almost to the ground, saying-- “The word of my Lord is the law of his slave. Within a few moments the runner’s feet shall be casting the leagues behind him.”