'Yes,' she said; 'I'll meet him at prison gates. But I mun be young.
Give me a drink o' Licksy.'

He drew the red draught in silence, and after it had effervesced offered
it to her.

''Tis raight?' she questioned, taking the glass.

The Inca nodded, and, lifting the vessel, she opened her eager lips and
became immortal. It was the first time in her life that she had drunk
out of a glass, and it would be the last.

Struck dumb by the trusting joy in those profound eyes, the Inca took
the empty glass from her trembling hand. Frail organism and prey of
love! Passion had surprised her too young. Noon had come before the
flower could open. She went out of the tent.

'Wench!' the Inca called after her, 'thy groat!'

She paid him and stood aimless for a second, and then started to cross
the roadway. Simultaneously there was a rush and a roar from the Cock
yard close by. The raging bull, dragging its ropes, and followed by a
crowd of alarmed pursuers, dashed out. The girl was plain in the
moonlight. Many others were abroad, but the bull seemed to see nothing
but her, and, lowering his huge head, he charged with shut eyes and
flung her over the Inca's booth.

'Thou's gotten thy wish: thou'rt young for ever!' the Inca of Peru, made
a poet for an instant by this disaster, murmured to himself as he bent
with the curious crowd over the corpse.