culpated themselves and upbraided Pizarro to his face, charging him with the entire responsibility for the deed. The dispute ran high, and they were soon heard giving one another the lie. This vulgar squabble among the leaders, so soon after the event, is sufficient proof of the iniquity of their proceedings.

CHAPTER XX.

A BANQUET OF DEATH.

THROUGHOUT all the stirring events we have described there was ever uppermost in the mind of Christopher Estevan the memory of one sweet face in far-off Spain. What can banish the faces of loved ones? Perchance not even death can do it. By day and by night, through sunlight and gloom, he saw the sweet, thoughtful face of Inez. name he never breathed aloud, and those who were his constant companions little dreamed that her face was the guiding star and beacon light which cheered his footsteps across the rugged Andes.

Her

Others had taken up the quarrel with Pizarro, and he did not again refer to the murder of the Inca, though it became painfully evident that Pizarro's dislike for Estevan was increasing every day.

"He hates you," Nicosia said one day. "He would kill you if he could."

"He dares not do that, Nicosia."

"He dares do anything to gain his selfish ends,” Nicosia answered.

Estevan consulted De Soto on the growing antipathy of Pizarro toward themselves.

“He dares not harm us," De Soto asserted; "but he will grow so reckless and bloodthirsty with power that we will either have to forsake him or our honor.'

"Who will be the next ruling Inca?"

'Toparca is the choice of Pizarro, and his choice will fix the matter," answered De Soto. "Pizarro is a shrewd knave, and knows that he who crowns the king owns him; consequently Toparca is selected."

"Do you know anything of this fellow Toparca?" Estevan asked.

66 'Nothing whatever, though probably he has resigned himself without reluctance to a destiny which, however humiliating in some points of view, is more exalted than he could have hoped to obtain in the regular course of events."

"When is the coronation to take place?"

"At once."

Within the very week of the above conversation, Toparca was crowned according to the Peruvian custom, the imperial borla being placed on his head by Pizarro.

De Soto was correct in his surmises; for the new

Inca was no sooner crowned than the Spanish invaders and their allies turned their attention toward Cuzco. The soldiers were all in good spirits at the prospect of doubling their riches. Almagro had joined them with reinforcements, and they entertained little doubt as to success. Their numbers had grown to be formidable, and by the disheartened natives they were thought to be invincible. The young Inca and the old chief Challcuchima accompanied the march in their litters, attended by a numerous retinue of vassals, and moving in as much state and ceremony as if they were the possessors of real power instead of puppets in the hands of their conquerors.

They journeyed along the great road of the Incas, the like of which has never been known in the world. They beheld the wonderful swinging bridges, and all the beautiful ingenuity of a race which had begun to fade from the earth. They passed temples erected to gods unknown to them, and which, in wonder, magnificence, and richness of jewels, have never been surpassed. These the ruthless invaders hesitated not to despoil of their treasures. The road is to this day a thing of wonder. Sometimes it crosses a smooth valley, at others it follows the course of a mountain stream, flowing round the base of some beetling cliff, leaving small space for foothold.

It was a formidable passage for cavalry. The mountain was hewn into steps, and the rocky ledges cut the hoofs of the horses; and, although the troopers dismounted and led them by the bridle, they suffered severely in their efforts to keep their footing.

"Señor Estevan, have a care,” cried Nicosia, as the young cavalier's horse nearly stumbled over into the awful depths below. "Dismount, I pray you, dismount as others have done, and lead your horse."

Estevan was forced to do so. They had not proceeded far before they came to where a deep torrent rushed down in fury from the Andes. This was crossed by one of those hanging bridges of osier, whose frail materials were after a time broken up by the heavy tread of the cavalry, and the holes made in them added materially to the dangers of the passage. Then the Spaniards were forced to make their way across on rafts, swimming their horses by the bridle.

"Do you suffer much from the cold?" Nicosia asked Estevan as they wended their way up the mountain.

"Not much, Nicosia; how is it with you?"

"My teeth are chattering again," he answered, as he drew his cloak closer about his shoulders. "If these bleak winds penetrate our harness, how much more must the Peruvians suffer!"