the air, and the religious cortège entered the temple, led by the four Guards of the Sacrifice, their heads erect now, for the sacred bonnets hid no secret. Behind them walked another Red Poncho, bearing in his hands a mass of knotted cords. Dick recognized the Preacher of Cajamarca, head of the quipucamyas, or Keepers of the Historic Word. Then came Huascar, in the saffron-colored vestments of the high-priest, preceded by lesser dignitaries of the church, while four curacas held over him a canopy of brilliant-hued plumes. All bowed before Huascar; the Inca alone was above him.
From the high-priest's stern face and somber eyes, Dick looked to his hands, to see if they were red with the blood of sacrifice. He felt a wild desire to shoot him down there, to kill him like a mad dog among his priests and servitors.
The mammaconas advanced, chanting. He could not at first see Maria-Teresa, hidden from view by black veils, rhythmically waved about her. The movement ceased and the women parted, leaving the way clear for the two among them who were to die and who advanced with uncovered faces, smiling like happy children.
The quenias ceased their song, and the second litter was brought forward in solemn silence. Dick shivered. Was Maria-Teresa dead or
