time, it announced the arrival of the Chief of Police, who was anxious to know what had happened. He had heard of the incident at Atahualpa's palace, and had moreover been warned by an Indian, an employee at the Franco-Belgian bank at Lima, that it might be dangerous for the Marquis and his companions to show themselves in the streets on the following day.
It was obvious that the man feared trouble, and would have given anything to see the party a hundred miles away. When he learned that they were ready to leave at once, he busied himself about finding them fresh mules and a guide, and furthermore detailed four troopers to escort the party as far as the railway.
Cajamarca was left at eleven o'clock that night, and the return journey was made at double the speed at which they had come. Dick would let nobody rest, and forced the pace throughout. It was not until the following night, safe in the train for Pascamayo, that they realized the ridicule that attached to their hasty flight. "Just like a pack of children frightened out of their lives by Agnes' stories," said the Marquis.
Back in civilized life again, they were all surprised at their panic. After all, the whole thing could be so naturally explained—fanatics resenting the presence of strangers at a religious
