Great Spirit, Pacahuamac. Pacahuamac, the Great Spirit!"
Down below there, the surging crowd took up the cry. Huascar, turning, commanded silence with a gesture.
They were all standing now, except the four Red Ponchos on the last step; still prostrate and silent. The cry of the quenias rose again, strident and shrill; soon they alone were to be heard. Maria-Teresa, crushed, conquered, had ceased struggling. Not a voice, not a sign, had answered the appeal. In a groan, she begged the mammaconas for their perfumes. "Have mercy. Bring your perfumes. Then we shall not suffer." The two who were to die with her shook their heads. "We must go to Atahualpa waking, with all our hearts and all our senses, that heart and senses may live hereafter."
The quenia players ceased their music, and a terrible, gripping silence descended on the hall. The faithful fell to their knees, and Huascar's sonorous voice commanded silence.
"Silence! Silence in the House of the Serpent! The dead King is coming! Listen!"
It was as if an earthquake had shaken the walls. The place was filled with thunder. But instead of coming from the heavens, it rose from the very bowels at the earth.
Little Christobal trembled in his sister's arms,
