“By your prayer of the moon this night, which the moon answered so well and quickly, one might think not.  Also this daughter of hers is fair, and perchance when she gave her hand she kept her heart.  Listen again, Master.  Of me and of whom I am, say nothing, save that you found me on this island where I dwelt a hermit when you rose from the sea.  As for my name, why, it is Zapana.  Remember that if you breathe my rank and history, however much sweet lips may try to cozen them out of you, you bring me to my death, who now do not wish to die, having a vengeance to accomplish and a throne to win.  Therefore treat me as a dog, as one of no account, and be silent even in your sleep.”

“I will remember, Kari.”

“That is not enough—­swear it.”

“Good.  I swear it—­by the moon.”

“Nay, not by the moon, for the moon is woman and changes.  Swear it by this,” and from beneath his skin robe he drew out the golden image of Pachacamac.  “Swear it by the Spirit of the Universe, of whom Sun and Moon and Stars are but servants, the Spirit whom all men worship in this shape or in that.”

So to please him I laid my hand upon the golden symbol and swore.  Then, very hurriedly, we made up a tale of how, clad in my armour, I had risen from the sea and found him on the island, and how knowing me for a white god who once in ages past had visited that land and who, as prophecy foretold, should return to it in days to come, he had worshipped me and become my slave.

This done we went down to the rock, Kari walking after me and bearing all our small possessions and with them Deleroy’s sword.  Passing round the rock we saw the balsa drawn up to the sand, and by it the lady Quilla, who now had put off her fine robes and again was attired as a fishing-girl as I had seen her in my dream, and with her two tall girls in the same scanty garments.  When these saw me in the glittering armour, which in our long idle hours we had polished till it shone like silver, with the shield upon my arm and the casque upon my head and the great sword girded about my middle and the black bow in my hand, they screamed with fear and fell upon their faces, while even Quilla started back and glanced towards the boat.

“Fear not,” I said.  “The gods are kind to those who do them service, though to those who would harm them they are terrible.”

Kari also went to them and whispered in their ears what tale I know not.  In the end they rose trembling, and having motioned to me to be seated in it, with the help of Kari pushed the balsa, which I noted with joy was large and well made, down into the sea.  Then one by one they climbed in, Quilla taking the steering-oar, while Kari and the two maidens hoisted the little sail and paddled till we were clear of the island, where the gentle wind caught the balsa.  Then they shipped the paddles, and although full laden, we sailed quietly towards the mainland.