Meanwhile, everything practicable was done to mitigate the hardship of his captivity. The blue-uniformed guard in the anteroom had given place to a detail of steel-accoutred Spaniards, and sentinels were in evidence outside the palace walls, but the monarch saw little of them. Even the officers did not intrude upon his privacy; though later he found pleasure, or at least interest, in the society of certain of them and invited them often. He gave daily audience to his people, who were admitted freely to his presence. They found him still wearing the _llautu_ and possessing the semblance—to all immediate intents and purposes the actuality—of his imperial power. They were commanded by him to be acquiescent to the strangers, by whom they were treated with due consideration, and went away reassured.
The soldiers were now removed from the temporary barracks and assigned to quarters in the houses, largely left vacant by townspeople who availed themselves of the privilege of leaving Caxamalca. Cristoval, with De Soto, took a dwelling not far from the palace. He dismissed most of the Indies placed at his service, and assigned a suitable number to the wounded Toparca, whom he left in his old quarters on the square.
The prince was mending rapidly under José’s skill, but was still unable to rise. Cristoval visited him daily, thereby improving his knowledge of Quichua and acquiring information about the country. As their acquaintance ripened he found the noble to be very much a man, and beneath his reserve he discovered a genuine urbanity. Toparca, on his part influenced by gratitude, increased by Cristoval’s unfailing thoughtfulness, had become strongly attached to his rescuer, whose friendship he regarded as the condescension of a being somewhat more than human.
Returning late one afternoon from a reconnaissance to the southward, Cristoval stopped to inquire for the prince. He entered the patio, rapped upon the half-open door, and, without waiting for an answer, pushed aside the hangings and entered,—to find himself confronted by half-a-dozen young women. He recognized them at once by their costume as attendants at the palace. The sudden apparition of his mailed figure threw consternation among the damsels, nearly equalled by his own at their half-suppressed scream. Stammering an apology, part Spanish, part Quichua, he bowed and was hastily retiring when Toparca called from his couch:—