And then de Soto dismissed the Indian escort, and the four cavaliers, entering the city, turned their horses’ heads in the direction of the palace which Hernando Pizarro had taken for his headquarters. CHAPTER VI. “WE HAVE SWORN!” The news that they had returned without the Inca had apparently preceded them by some means, for they met Carvahal at the door of the palace, and in answer to their greeting he looked up and said with one of his deep, growling laughs-- “So you have seen his Majesty safely home, Señores! By my faith, a right worthy Christian escort for a heathen king who was yesterday a captive! Did I not say that it would have been better to try the tight collar on him as we did on Atahuallpa? If I mistake not the lad is worth a score of Atahuallpas. I fear me it will go hard now with the lad’s mother and sweetheart. Don Hernando is in a towering rage, and I believe the punishment is to be a flogging first, and then shooting to death with arrows. It would have been greater mercy to have strangled the lad himself.” While the old ruffian was running on in this way de Soto and his companions had flung themselves from their horses and mounted the steps. “Is Don Hernando within?” said de Soto roughly, and seeming to take no heed of what he had said. “He is, Señores,” replied Carvahal, bowing with a clumsy attempt at mock politeness, “and he is awaiting you in a humour that seems to have more of brimstone in it than of the milk of human kindness. You will find him in the banqueting-hall--and methinks you will find the feast already spread for you.” Without noticing the sally the four cavaliers strode past him hands on sword-hilts, and looking more like men going to battle than soldiers about to account for a grave failure to their commander. De Soto went first, and as he entered the room Hernando Pizarro, who was sitting at a table with three or four of his officers, looked round and then started to his feet. He was a big, heavily-built man with a low, narrow brow, large and fleshy nose and mouth, and a pallid skin which the most ardent sun had been unable to tinge with bronze. His black eyes were small but very bright, and as he looked at de Soto they flashed with unmistakable anger. His voice, always unpleasing, seemed to grate roughly over his yellow uneven teeth as he said with the air of a judge addressing culprits brought up for judgment-- “How now, Señores? Where is he who was entrusted to your keeping? A tale brought by an Indian reached me to-day telling me that you had permitted his escape. I trust you come to tell me that that is false. If not, it will be my duty to show you how we deal with traitors.”