Spaniards had allowed to share his
captivity. Atahualpa, furiously affronted, desired to have him {90}
put to death, but Felippo was too important to the Spaniards, and he
was spared. How Atahualpa's defense suffered from Felippo's
interpretations under such circumstances may easily be imagined. In
spite of the courageous opposition of a few of the self-appointed
judges, the Inca was convicted and sentenced to death, Father Valverde
concurring, in writing, with the sentence.

When the verdict of the court was communicated to Atahualpa, he did not
receive it with any remarkable degree of fortitude. He is a pitiful
rather than a heroic figure.

"What have I done," he cried, weeping, "what have my children done,
that I should meet with such a fate?" Turning to Pizarro, he added,
"And from your hands, too, who have met with friendship and kindness
from my people, to whom I have given my treasure, who have received
nothing but benefit from my hands!"

He besought the conqueror to spare his life, promising anything, even
to double the enormous ransom he had already paid, and offering to
guarantee in any appointed way the safety of every Spaniard in the
army. Pedro Pizarro, a cousin of the conqueror, who has left an
account of the interview, says that Pizarro was greatly affected by the
touching appeal of the unfortunate monarch, and that he wept in turn
also. However that may be, he refused to interfere. A man may weep
and weep, to paraphrase Shakespeare, "and be a villain!" There was no
help for it; Atahualpa had to die.

It was on the 29th of August, 1533. The trial and deliberations had
occupied the whole day. It was two hours after sunset before they were
ready to execute him in the great square of Caxamarca. {91} The
Spanish soldiers, fully armed, arranged themselves about a huge stake
which had been planted in the square. Back of them were groups of
terrified, awe-struck Peruvians, helplessly weeping and lamenting the
fate of their monarch which they were powerless to prevent. Flickering
torches held by the troops cast an uncertain light over the tragic
scene. Atahualpa was led forth in fetters and chained to the stake.
He showed little of the firmness and fortitude of a proud monarch or a
brave man. How feebly he appears when contrasted with the great Aztec
Guatemotzin, calmly enduring the tortures of the red-hot gridiron and
resolutely refusing to gratify either his captors' lust for treasure or
d