My heart was too heavy for me to answer Rayburn save by a nod; for while he spoke the thought came home to me very bitterly that upon me rested the responsibility of the black misfortune in which he and Young were involved; and with this came also a great burst of sorrow as I thought how still more closely at my door lay Pablo's death—for Rayburn and Young at least had come into my plans with a reasonable understanding of the danger to which they exposed themselves; but Pablo, having no such knowledge, had followed me unquestioningly because of his loving trust that I would hold him safe from harm. My sorrow concerning Fray Antonio was keen enough, Heaven knows; but in his case I had the solace of knowing surely that he had come to his death not because of my urging, but in pursuance of his own strong desire. There was a little comfort in the thought that even one of these four lost lives could not be charged to my account; and yet this reflection seemed only to make my sorrow heavier as I thought of the woful weight of my responsibility for the other three.
For nearly two hours we lay there in the bay while the embarkation of the prisoners and the troops went on—our boat moving farther out from the pier from time to time as the double line of boats behind it lengthened. In that sheltered place there was little wind blowing, and the blazing heat of the sun beating down upon my wounded head gave me so sharp a pain that I gladly would have died to be rid of it; and I could see, from the drawn look of their faces, that Young and Rayburn were suffering not less keenly. We were thankful enough, therefore, when at last the embarkation was completed—more than half of the army remaining in Huitzilan to restore order there—and we pulled out from the bay into the open waters of the lake and were comforted by the light breeze, which yet brought with it a delicious refreshment, that was blowing there.
All the bright beauty of that lovely lake was around us, having for its background the green meadows and the darker green of the forests hanging above them on the upward slopes, and beyond all the towering height of the cliffs, which shaded in their colorings from delicate gray to dark brown, and were touched here and there by patches of black shadow where some great cleft opened; and yet all that we then thought of was that across those blue waters, which gleamed golden in the sunlight, we were going swiftly to a cruel death, and that the cliffs, whereof the beauty was hateful to us, irrevocably shut us in. Which gloomy feelings pressed upon us throughout that dismal passage, while all our oarsmen pulled stoutly together, and we went gliding onward over the sunlit waters towards the evil fate that we knew was waiting for us within the dark walls whereby was encircled the city of Culhuacan.
While yet we were a long way off from the city, we heard faintly the yells of triumph with which the watchers above the water-gate gave notice to those within the walls of the return of the victorious army; and from all the boats of our flotilla there went up a shrill chorus of answering yells. Our barge was the first to pass through the water-gate, out from which we had come so gallantly so short a time before, and thence went onward across the basin to the very pier that we had started from with such high hopes to gather the forces for the rebellion that had come to so sorry an end.
All the water-side was black with the crowd that had gathered to watch our landing; but, considering that these people were there to welcome a victorious army, it seemed to me that they were strangely still and dull. There was, to be sure, no lack of yelling, but it came for the most part from a company of priests clustered on the pier where we landed, and from the soldiers and oarsmen in the boats—not from the townsfolk at large. And when we were marched upward through the city—following the same street that we had fought our way along when last we traversed it—I saw in the crowd so many sullen and dejected faces that it seemed to me there still was in that city a good deal of material for the making of another mutiny.
This time we were not taken to the house in which we had met the Priest Captain, and whence we had been delivered from imprisonment by Tizoc's gallant rescue of us; but, passing a little beyond this house, we were led up a broad stair-way to the plateau which crowned the city, and on which stood the great Treasure-house that also was the temple in which the Aztlanecas housed their most venerated gods. And I confess that my delight at seeing closely this building, that until then I had beheld only from afar off, for a time completely overcame the dread and sorrow that had oppressed me; and the very strongest desire that stirred within me just then was for a tape-measure and a pair of compasses and a steel square, together with the opportunity to fall to work with these several instruments upon those mighty walls. Indeed, I almost had forgotten that I was a prisoner, and was like to die soon a very dreadful death, when a groan that poor Rayburn gave—wrung from him by the pain that he suffered in being carried up the stairs—recalled me suddenly to a realizing sense of our situation, and so pressed home upon me the sad conviction that the science of archæology would gain nothing of all that I might see or learn during the little while that I should remain alive.
The outer facing of the plateau, like that of the terraces below it, was a prodigiously heavy wall of squared stones set in cement; and for a coping this wall had great stones carved in the similitude of serpents' heads, with mouths wide open, that instantly recalled to my mind the like enclosure that the Spaniards found surrounding the principal temple in the city of Tenochtitlan—and I had a sudden strong longing that my friend Bandelier might be with me at that moment to see how precisely his very ingenious speculations concerning the snake-wall about the great Teocalli were here confirmed.
Through a portal formed of two huge blocks of stone carved to represent two serpents coiled upon themselves, the heads meeting above in a sort of arch (not a true arch, for each of these serpents was a monolith, and was supported wholly on its own base), we entered the large enclosure before the temple. I was surprised to find—for of such a thing among the ancient Aztecs there is no record—that in the centre of the enclosure the rock had been hewn away in such a fashion as to create a vast amphitheatre; and that this was the place where sacrifice was offered by the priests was shown by the blood-stained altar in the centre of it, to which fragments of flesh also adhered, whence was wafted up to us a dreadful stench that instantly racked us with queasy qualms. Save directly in front of the entrance to the temple, where was a great stone balcony with a smaller balcony below it, all the sides of the amphitheatre were cut in steps, which made, also, benches where the multitude could sit at their ease and behold the bloody work going on in the pit below them; and so enormous was this rock-hewn cavity that fully forty thousand people could at once be seated there. Under the balcony there was visible the entrance to a dark tunnel-like passage, that evidently communicated with the temple, and a smaller passage, not large enough for a man to pass through, slanted downward to where it opened on the terrace below; which last was to drain the blood away, and also to free the amphitheatre from water in the season of rains.
We held our noses as we skirted this shocking place, and we were glad enough when we got beyond it and came to the entrance to the temple—a very noble portal, severely simple, and because of its simplicity the more majestic, in which, as in the whole of the façade, was manifest the grave and sombre Egyptian feeling that I had before observed. Through this we passed into the shadowy interior, lighted by only a few narrow slits cut in the enormously thick walls, where the lofty roof was upheld by a wilderness of columns which opened before us seemingly endless vistas where an eternal twilight reigned. Of interior decoration there was nothing save a broad and simple panelling upon the walls, and the great pillars were mere round monoliths without either bases or capitals.
As we entered this, to them, most sacred place a hush fell upon our escort, and even I felt something of that reverent awe that is inspired by any building which has been sanctified by the worship of multitudes within it through countless years. But that Young did not at all share this feeling with me was made manifest by his observing, after taking a long look around him: "Well, this wouldn't answer for a Congregational church, anyway. There ain't a pew in th' whole place, an' here in broad daylight you couldn't see a hymn-book if you tried. I wonder what they'd say, Professor, to a bid for puttin' in a dynamo for 'em an' lightin' this dark old hole with electricity? An' it 'u'd take off a lot o' this chill an' dampness if they'd have a steam-heater put in at th' same time. It's enough t' give all hands rheumatism th' way cold creeps strike up your legs." But at this point Young's observations were cut short peremptorily by the hand that one of the guards laid across his mouth; which hint that it was desirable for him to keep silence was quite unmistakable.
This decided repression of Young's chattering, no doubt, was the more vigorous because we now were approaching the farther end of the temple, where loomed before us amid the shadows a great idol, set upon an altar-like throne. This figure, fully ten feet high, was a strange medley of grotesque and hideous carvings that yet in its entirety was like a man; and so cruel and so ferocious was the general air of it that it well might inspire a very lively terror in simple souls. The most striking feature of the figure was a dismal skull, that was outheld from the region of the waist by two great hands placed there arbitrarily and without any relation to the figure's arms; and for a crest—repeating the motive of the gate-way—it had two serpents' heads, the bodies pertaining to which were twisted and involved about the whole mass. For eyes this evil thing had large and gleaming green stones—being, in truth, emeralds, though I did not at that time recognize them as such—and golden serpents, very beautifully wrought, were twisted about it, and a collar of golden hearts was hung around its neck over a sort of apron of shining green feathers; and feathers of a like sort rose above the heads of the serpents in a thick plume; and over every part of the figure were scattered glittering objects—emeralds, and disks of gold, and scraps of mother-o'-pearl, and fragments of obsidian—whence shone through the heavy shadows faint, shimmering points of light. In one of its out-stretched hands the figure held a bow, and in the other a bunch of arrows; but even without these unmistakable attributes I should have known from the skull and from the serpents' heads that this fierce and hideous idol represented the god Huitzilopochtli: the first divinity, and throughout the whole time that their bloody religion endured, the principal divinity, that the ancient Mexicans adored. Young did not venture to speak aloud again, but he turned to me with a long sigh and whispered, earnestly, "That certainly is, Professor, the very d——dest thing I ever saw!"
As I knew, it was in keeping with the Aztec customs that prisoners taken in war thus should be brought first of all before the god Huitzilopochtli, that they and their captors together might do him reverence; therefore, I was not surprised when a priest came forth from behind the altar and bade us prostrate ourselves in adoration of the idol. As this order was given, all the Aztlanecas with us bowed themselves to the floor; but Young, who did not understand the order, and I, who felt my gorge rising at the thought of thus humbling myself, remained erect. However, we did not continue through many seconds in that position; for a couple of soldiers instantly laid hands upon each of us, and by shoving our shoulders sharply forward, and at the same moment kicking our legs from under us, they summarily laid us face downward at full length upon the floor. As for Rayburn, they seemed to be satisfied with his recumbent position upon the stretcher; at any rate, they suffered him to remain as he was.
While I lay prone, quivering with rage at the double indignity of being thus roughly handled, and of being compelled even in form to worship a disgusting idol, I heard an odd little pattering upon the stone floor, and then something cold and clammy was thrust against my hand, and at the same instant I heard close beside me a curious snuffling noise; and while a glad doubt, that I scarce ventured to give way to, was rising within me, the clammy thing was taken away from my hand, and there straightway rang out through the gloomy silence of the temple a thunderous braying that seemed fairly to shake the walls. There was no mistaking the voice of the friend who with this triumphant blast welcomed me; and as I heard it there came into my heart a sudden glow of hope that Pablo, and that even Fray Antonio also, might still be alive. And this hope was destined to be immediately and most joyfully realized, for as we rose to our feet again I saw the lad standing, with El Sabio beside him, not a dozen feet away from me; and a little beyond them was the monk, his face all lighted up with a bright look of happiness and love. And seeing these three once more standing alive and well before me was the most amazing and also the very gladdest sight that ever met my eyes.
It was a sore trial to me that I could not immediately hold converse with Pablo and with Fray Antonio, and so come to know through what adventures they had passed, and by what miracles their lives had been saved; but the ceremony in which our captors were engaged was but half completed, and the better to assure our orderly conduct during its continuance we were kept asunder in the procession that then was formed—the object of which procession, as my knowledge of the Aztec customs led me rightly to infer, was that the ceremonial of triumph might be ended by leading us thrice around the sacrificial stone. And in truth I dreaded less the fate which this leading us about the altar of sacrifice implied was in store for us than I did the close association, made necessary by the ceremony, with the direful stench which that vile altar exhaled.
At the edge of the amphitheatre, where already the evil odor was almost overpowering, the soldiers who had charge of us relinquished us—as it seemed to me, most thankfully—to a company of the temple priests; whereof the chief was a round, fat little man, whose shortness of legs very obviously was accompanied by a corresponding shortness of wind. He was, in truth, a most hopelessly undignified little personage; yet he did his best to assume a look of dignity as he waddled down the steps in advance of us, and he manfully endeavored to conceal the difficulties encountered by his short fat legs in the course of this descent. And I was glad enough that we had his absurd performances to distract our minds a little from the dismalness of our surroundings, and especially from the queasiness that again beset our stomachs as our noses were assailed more and more violently by that most evil smell. The priests, I observed, had cotton stuffed in their nostrils; but for us there was nothing for it but to hold our noses tightly with our hands.
El Sabio, who had a most generous and broadly open nose, and who was not blest with hands to hold it fast with, grew restive as the first whiff struck him; which resulted less, I suppose, from the intrinsic vileness of the smell than from the fact that he, in common with all peace-loving animals, had aroused in him an instinctive terror by the odor of blood. Pablo's voice, and Pablo's touch, possibly might have soothed and quieted him; but the efforts which the priests who were leading him made to restrain him only served the more to terrify him, and so to increase his violence. And the priests, who now for a considerable time had seen him daily, and had known him only as the most gentle and biddable of creatures, were mightily astonished, and evidently were terrified, by this sudden outbreak of a fierce temper that most reasonably took them entirely by surprise. Partly by pulling at the rope that they had about his neck, and partly by such pushes as they dared to give him while he was momentarily at rest, they succeeded in forcing him down the steps; and so at last into the large circular space at the bottom of the amphitheatre, in the midst of which stood the stone of sacrifice and where the smell of blood was overpoweringly strong. But by the time that this victory was won El Sabio had ceased to be a quiet orderly donkey, accustomed to conform to the usages of human society, and had become a veritable crazy creature, inflamed by the madness of fear and rage.
By some miracle—a very happy miracle for those whom the poor ass most naturally regarded as his tormentors—El Sabio's nimble heels had until this moment lashed the air harmlessly; but just as the last step downward was accomplished he let out both of his hind-legs together, and with such precision that both of his hoofs struck a remarkably tall priest who had taken a very active part in persecuting him. The blow was landed fairly on the tall priest's stomach, and instantly the two long halves of that priest shut together like a jack-knife, and he fell to the ground with a gasp that told how thoroughly the wind was knocked out of him. Doubtless this outburst of violence served but to increase El Sabio's terror, for he straightway gave so strong a plunge that he fairly broke away from the men who were holding him; and then he bent all his energies to working such destruction as never was worked by one single ass since the very beginning of the world!
Fortunately for our own safety—for El Sabio was in no condition to discriminate between friends and foes—we still were at some distance from the bottom of the amphitheatre when this outbreak occurred; the greater part of the priests having preceded us, and El Sabio having been led in the van of the prisoners. It was wholly upon the priests, therefore, that his mad rage was expended, and the way that he "got in his work," as Young expressed it, on these enemies of his and ours was a joyful wonder to behold. Being closely penned in—for the way whence they had entered the amphitheatre was barred by the crowd of which we were a part, and the entrance to the subterranean passage leading to the temple was closed—the priests had no chance to escape from the furious creature save by clambering up the smooth wall, fully eight feet high, by which was enclosed the circular space that immediately surrounded the altar. Even an agile man, going at it quietly, would have found a little difficulty in executing this gymnastic feat, that required for its accomplishment sheer lifting of the body until a leg could be thrown over the top of the wall; and as these priests, for the most part, had grown fat and sluggish in their sacred calling, they were wellnigh incapacitated from performing it. Furthermore, El Sabio manifested what had the appearance of being a most diabolical ingenuity—yet that, no doubt, was no more than chance—in delivering flying kicks against the legs of these dangling creatures; wherefrom such keen pain resulted that they instantly let loose their hold, and came tumbling to the ground.
So far as we were concerned—our sympathies being wholly on the side of the ass—this astonishing spectacle remained a broad farce until the very end; but it presently became to the men engaged in it a very serious tragedy. As he made his wild charges, El Sabio galloped backward and forward again and again over the bodies of his prostrate enemies; in the course of which gallopings his sharp little hoofs cut their naked flesh savagely, and now and then, when he happened to land a kick fairly against a man's body, we could see, from the sinking in of the fellow's ribs and the gush of blood that burst from his nostrils, that the ass had delivered a death-blow.
As for the noise that attended this most extraordinary performance, words can but faintly describe it. From the men directly engaged with El Sabio came yells of fear and shouts for assistance and cries of anger, beneath all of which was a dull undertone of groans; the crowd around us and higher up behind us gave vent to a shrill roar of shouts and yells that seemed to be partly in the nature of advice, and partly the result of that instinct which prompts all barbarians to yell whenever anybody else yells, on general principles. Pablo interpolated a most despairing note in the way of beseeching cries of "B-u-r-r-r-o! B-u-r-r-r-o!" whereby he sought to allay El Sabio's frenzy, and so to save him from the direful fate that well might be expected to overtake him in recompense of his direful deeds; and Young fairly tossed his battered Derby hat up into the air as he shouted: "Go it, El Sabio! Give it to 'em, my boy! Ten t' one against th' fat priest! Three cheers for th' jackass! Hip-hip-hurrah!" In short, it seemed as though Bedlam had broken loose among us, and as though all of us together were going mad.
What with dodging behind his fellows, and keeping clear of El Sabio's frantic charges by the display of an agility that I would not have given him credit for, the little fat priest managed to preserve his small round body unharmed until all of his companions had either escaped over the wall or had been, as Young put it, knocked out by El Sabio's heels. Once or twice he had made a dash for the passage-way in which we were standing, but the lower end of this was choked with the dozen or more badly wounded wretches who had crawled thither in their efforts to escape; and these the priests in front of us, being but cowardly creatures, had made no effort to succor or to lift away, for the reason that so long as this barrier remained they themselves were safe from El Sabio's fury.
Having, therefore, no longer any one to hide behind, the fat little priest evidently realized that his only hope of salvation lay in making an effort, truly heroic in one of his height and girth and woful shortness of wind, to clamber up the face of the wall; and to this wellnigh impossible task he most resolutely set himself. It was only by jumping that he was able to get a grip over the top of the wall; yet when this grip was gained he could get no farther on his way to deliverance, and so he hung dangling there, his face to the wall, jerking his short fat legs about spasmodically, and wasting in most piercing yells what little there was in him of wind.
It did really seem as though El Sabio's action in these premises was dictated by reason, for when he saw the priest in this wholly unprotected position he deliberately took his stand at precisely the point behind the little man where all of his kicking power could be most effectively used. There was a momentary hush as El Sabio thus placed himself, for every one perceived how very open was the priest to assault; and at the same time it was apparent that while El Sabio's kicks assuredly would be exceedingly painful, they were not likely to inflict upon the priest, while he remained in that attitude, a deadly wound. In an instant the two small heels flashed through the air, and there was heard a dull, soft sound—such as might come from the striking of an over-ripe melon with a heavy club—and with this burst forth a most piercing shriek of pain. Yet the little priest, knowing that his life depended upon it, most gallantly retained his hold. Again El Sabio kicked, and again a piercing shriek sounded; and one hand loosened for a moment and then clutched fast again. But when El Sabio kicked for the third time human nature was too weak to resist further against brute violence. With a yell that fairly cracked our ears the priest let go his hold and fell downward and backward; and at that same instant El Sabio delivered a final kick that struck fairly on the head of the falling man and battered in his skull.
As for El Sabio, it seemed as though he himself were like to die in the very moment of his victory; for with a sort of groan that, coming from a brute beast, was most pitiful to listen to, the poor terrified creature, utterly exhausted by his fright and his outlay of energy in furious violence, sank down panting by the side of the man whom he had slain.
Even with El Sabio reduced to this condition of complete quiescence, the Aztlanecas, soldiers as well as priests, still were terribly afraid of him; being firmly convinced, as was not at all unnatural, that for the time being there was embodied in him a devil of a most dangerous sort. Therefore they were but too glad to yield to Pablo's burning eagerness to get to the poor ass; and when he called for aid to carry the exhausted creature out from the amphitheatre, and so away from among the dead and wounded and from the dreadful smell of blood, Young and I promptly were pushed forward and ordered to perform this piece of work that even the bravest of them shrunk from undertaking.
However, there was no real peril in it, for El Sabio was so weak that he could not even stand, and still less was he strong enough to kick anybody. Lifting him in this dull, limp state, and carrying him up the steep steps, was heavy work for us, wounded and weary as we were; but with Pablo's help we managed it, and so got him up from the depths of the amphitheatre to its windward side—where a fresh sweet breeze that was blowing, and some water that a soldier brought when Pablo called for it, in a little while put new life into him. Why the ass was not made to pay the penalty of his sins, by being there and then killed, at first was a good deal of a puzzle to me; but presently, from the talk that went on about us while Pablo ministered to him, and while the wounded lying around the altar were being cared for, and the dead borne away, I gathered that no one dared to kill him for fear of being himself possessed by the devil that needs must enter another body upon being thus set free. And as this seemed to be a view of the case that was worth encouraging, I very gravely told one of the priests that I myself had seen a man all in an instant go raving mad upon slaying one of these creatures and so letting the devil loose from him. As this story was circulated among the crowd I was glad to perceive that the dread of El Sabio obviously greatly increased.
As a result of the untoward outbreak that had occurred, no attempt was made to complete the ceremonial of triumph. Indeed, the victory now lay so decidedly with El Sabio that there was but little to triumph over. Therefore we presently were herded together by a party of soldiers—who took good care that Pablo should lead the ass, and that Young and I should walk directly behind him as a protection against any further uplifting of his heels—and so we all were marched once more into the temple. This time we did not stop in front of the great idol, but went on beyond it towards a portal in the rear of the building that opened on an inner court; on the farther side of which court, as we knew from the description of the place that Tizoc had given us, was the Treasure-house, in which was stored not only the treasure placed there in long past ages by King Chaltzantzin, but also the treasure belonging to the State and to the temple that had been accumulated in later times.
At the entrance to the court-yard, where the way was closed by a metal grating over which a heavy curtain hung, the soldiers formally relinquished us into the charge of a company of priests; and then the curtain was drawn aside and the grating was raised, and we passed out into the bright sunlight—and saw close before us the place which for so long a time had so largely filled our thoughts. It was a building of no great size, being but a single story high, and was dwarfed by the vastly stupendous cliffs which so far overtopped it that they seemed to extend upward to the very sky; but it was most massively constructed, and the actual available space within it was far greater than was indicated by the relatively small dimensions of its exterior walls. When we entered the building, through a narrow opening protected by a metal grating, the chamber into which we came was of so considerable a size that a part of it, we perceived, must extend actually into the cliff; and that the work of quarrying out the living rock had been carried still farther was shown by an opening at its rear end that evidently gave access to some hollow depth beyond.
It was towards this inner recess that our guards led us. Here another grating was raised that we might pass, and we went onward through a narrow passage cut in the rock, along the sides of which were many openings giving access to small cell-like rooms. Nor was this place, as we had expected to find it, wholly dark; for narrow slits had been cut through the rock out to the face of the cliff, through which came so much light that we could see about us very well. And but for that blessed light, faint though it was, I doubt not that we should have gone mad there; and even with the light to cheer and to comfort us I felt a black despair settling down upon me at the thought of being thus imprisoned within the very bowels of the mountain, with no possibility of other release than being taken thence to die.
At the extreme end of the passage the rock had been hollowed away smoothly and carefully so as to form a chamber nearly thirty feet square and at least twenty feet high, whereof all the walls were covered with plates of gold which overlapped each other in the manner of fishes' scales; and advantage had been taken of some wide crevice or deep depression in the cliff above to open in the roof of this chamber a small aperture, whence a pale light entered in long fine rays which gleamed through the shadows, and gleamed again more faintly in reflections from the golden walls. In this oratory—for such it evidently was—stood a statue, smaller than that in the temple yet still more magnificently arrayed, of the god Huitzilopochtli; before which odious image we were thrown upon our faces by our guards. When this ceremony was ended we were led forth once more into the passage, and so into two of the little cells which had been meagrely prepared for us by tossing into each of them a bundle of mats; and there our guards left us to shift for ourselves—shutting the grating behind them with a sharp ringing of metal on stone that echoed dismally through the rock-hewn chambers wherein we were held fast.
For a while we stood in melancholy silence about the stretcher on which poor Rayburn lay; and very pale and worn he looked after his great loss of blood and heavy fatigue and the pain and excitement of the last few hours. Pablo had taken up his quarters with El Sabio in a cell on the opposite side of the passage—for within the limits of our prison we were left to arrange ourselves as we pleased—and we could hear him talking to the ass in a fashion that at any other time we should have laughed at; for by turns he upbraided him for his rash acts, and complimented him upon his bravery, and expressed dread of the punishment that might be visited upon him, and told him of his very tender love—all of which, so far as we could judge, El Sabio took in equally good part.
"There ain't no good in standin' 'round here doin' nothin'," Young said, at last. "This don't look like much of a place t' break out of, but we may as well see how things are, anyway. Th' Padre'd better take a squint at Rayburn's busted leg an' set th' bandages straight; an' while he's attendin' t' that, me an' you, Professor, can do a little prospectin'. This is th' Treasure-house, for sure, an' it'll be some satisfaction t' see what it amounts to. I'll bet a hat there ain't anything worth havin' in th' whole place, after all."
I was glad enough to have any occupation that would change even a little the sad current of my thoughts, and I therefore very willingly acted on Young's suggestion—after first making sure that Fray Antonio had no need of help in his work of dressing Rayburn's wound—and together we set about this curious exploration; that had in it a strong charm for me, notwithstanding my heavy sorrow, because of the possibility that it opened of finding curious traces of a new community so far advanced in civilization as was that which the King Chaltzantzin had brought with him into this valley a thousand years ago. Here, unquestionably, was the oldest deposit of the belongings of any of the primitive dwellers upon the American continent; and I trembled a little with excitement at the thought of what archæological treasures I here might find—and then I heaved suddenly a long sigh as I remembered how useless in my present case would be even the most brilliant of discoveries.
As for Young's bet of a hat that there was no treasure here worth having, he would have lost it, had it been accepted, at the very first of the rooms which we examined; for the whole of this room, a cube of about ten feet, was packed full of bars of hardened gold from the mine at Huitzilan. And so was the next room, and the next, until we had found five rooms thus filled. But all the remaining rooms were entirely empty, and of the treasure set aside in long past ages by King Chaltzantzin there was no sign. Yet here, truly, was stored wealth the like of which the richest monarch in the world could not match for greatness; and as Young beheld before him such enormous riches his face grew ruddy, an eager light came into his eyes, the muscles of his throat worked convulsively, and his breathing was labored and short—until I demolished all his fine fancies at a blow by saying: "Much good this treasure is to us, when there isn't a ghost of a chance that either of us ever will get out of this valley alive!" As I uttered these bitter words his look of animation left him, and for some moments he was silent; and when at last he spoke, it was in a tone of calm though melancholy conviction, and with a most dispassionate air.
"I shall be obliged t' you, Professor, really obliged t' you," he said, "if you'll just kick me for a blasted fool. Ever since that night in Morelia when you told me an' Rayburn about this treasure I've regularly had it on my brain. Through all these months I've been thinkin' about it when I was awake an' dreamin' about it when I was asleep. An' it's true for a fact, Professor, that never until this blessed minute, when we've really struck it, has th' notion come into my fool head that when we did ketch up with it the folks it rightly b'longed to might want t' keep it for theirselves! Yes, just kick me, please. Just kick me for a forlorn, mis'rable, blasted fool!"
I was not disposed to laugh at Young's words; rather was I disposed to weep over them. For they brought freshly and strongly to my mind the fact that I was responsible for alluring him, by the hope of acquiring great riches quickly, into this accursed valley, where in a little while he would be most barbarously done to death. And I knew too that I was responsible for the like fate that must overtake Rayburn, and that in regard to Pablo my guilt was greatest of all. It was a comfort to me, truly, that not one of these ever by look or word reproached me for thus so wofully misleading them; and yet, in a certain way, their very forbearance but added to my pain.
Therefore was I a little gladdened, when we returned again to the others, to find that Fray Antonio was speaking to Rayburn, with a grave, calm hopefulness, of those spiritual realities which are higher and better than material realities, and without steadfast trust in which, most of us, in the course of this sorrowful thing that we call life, assuredly would go mad in sheer despair. And listening to this comforting discourse, which was not checked by our return, did much to strengthen me to bear my heavy load of vain regret. Presently Fray Antonio shifted his ground—for he had the wisdom to speak but shortly on these grave topics, yet using always pregnant words which sank down into men's hearts and germinated there—and told us of what had befallen him since he had stolen away from us that night in Huitzilan.
In truth, he had but little to tell, for his adventures had been of a very simple kind. Upon his arrival in the canoe at the water-gate he had been at once recognized and admitted, and had been carried directly to the building in which, on our first coming into the city, we all had been confined. And there he had been imprisoned until he was led up to the temple to take part in the triumph that El Sabio's violence so seriously had marred, and so once more was in our company. Of the Priest Captain he had seen nothing at all; nor had any answer come back to him from that dignitary to his urgent plea that, inasmuch as he had thus surrendered himself, his companions—that is, ourselves—should be suffered to leave the valley in peace; which silence on the part of the Priest Captain was not surprising, however, in view of the brave defiance in words sent by the Tlahuicos, who afterwards were such cowards in deeds.
In fact, during the brief time of his imprisonment Fray Antonio had not spoken to a soul save the man who brought him drink and food. Yet his talk with this man, scant though it had been, had filled him with the hope that, could he only hold free converse with the people at large, even as he had done at Huitzilan, the purpose that he had in mind in coming into the valley would be fulfilled. Although a priest of the temple, his jailer had listened with a most earnest and hearty attention to the expounding of Christian doctrine that was opened to him, and had shown a very cheering willingness to recognize the shortcomings of his own idolatrous belief as compared with the principles of this purer and nobler faith. And he had told Fray Antonio that many of his companions in the service of the temple, having heard somewhat of the new creed from those who had tome up from Huitzilan, were eager to know more concerning it; so that it would seem, Fray Antonio declared, as though there were a harvest there ready to be reaped to Christianity by his hand. The case was such, he thought, that could he but speak publicly to the multitude, and especially could there but be vouchsafed from Heaven some sign by which the verity of his words might be established, he yet would win to the glorious Christian faith this whole community, that, through no fault of its own, until that time had remained lost in heathen sin.
Rayburn and I exchanged glances as Fray Antonio spoke of aid being given him in his work by a sign from Heaven, for to our notions the time of miracles was a long while past. But Fray Antonio, as we knew (for once or twice we three had spoken together of this matter), did not at all hold with us in believing that miracle-working had come to an end; and indeed his faith was entirely logical; for, as he himself put it, those who believed that miracles ever had been wrought for the advancement of Christianity could not reasonably draw a line at any year since the Christian Church was founded, and say that in that year miracles ceased to be. In this matter, as in many others, the resemblance between Fray Antonio and the founder of his Order, Saint Francis of Assisi, was very strong.
Pablo's experience as a prisoner had been of a far more trying sort; for the priests had sought earnestly, he said, by most stringent means, to pervert him from Christianity to their own faith. When we had been so rudely separated that day, after our interview with the Priest Captain, he, and El Sabio with him, had been hurried up the stairs to the temple, and thence to the Treasure-house; and there, though not in the part of it in which we then were, he had been ever since confined. Strong measures certainly had been taken to make a heathen of him. He had been starved for a while, and he had been deprived of water, and he had been cruelly scourged, and very harrowing presentments had been made to him of the death that he must die should he much longer refuse to yield. That the lad had remained firm in his faith, he told us, sobbing a little at memory of his hardships, was because of the sorrow that he knew his yielding would bring upon Fray Antonio and upon me; which certainly was not the reason that Fray Antonio most would have approved, but it did not in the least detract from the steady courage that he had shown in holding out firmly under pressure that would have made many a man succumb. In all the time that so many cruelties had been practised upon him, only one man had shown him kindness—an old man, who seemed to be in charge of the archives that the Treasure-house contained, who twice had risked his own life by secretly giving him water and food. But he never had been separated from El Sabio, Pablo said joyfully, in conclusion, nor had his mouth-organ been taken away from him; and these blessings had done much to lessen the misery that he was compelled to bear.
When, in our turn, Rayburn and Young and I had told of the far more stirring adventures that we had passed through, and of our high hopes seemingly so well founded that had suffered so dismal a downfall, we all of us wisely refrained from speculating at all upon the future; instead of which profitless and painful topic we strove to speak cheerfully of indifferent matters; and this we did not only that we might the better keep our hearts up, but that we might not excite Rayburn, who already was in a dangerously feverish condition by reason of his wound. But, though we spoke not of it, we none of us doubted what our fate would be; nor did we imagine that the death that surely awaited us would be long delayed.
It was a source of wonder to us, therefore, that day after day went by without bringing the end that we so confidently expected. From the man who brought us our food we could learn nothing; but this was not from ill-will on his part, but because he himself knew nothing of the Priest Captain's plans. This man, though a priest, was not unkindly disposed towards us, and he even listened to the words which Fray Antonio addressed to him touching Christian doctrine; but while he listened—being made of a sterner stuff than the priest who previously had been Fray Antonio's jailer—he gave no sign of assent. The only other person whom we had a chance to speak with, and this but rarely, was the old man who had shown kindness to Pablo, the guardian of the archives—who, by right of his official position, had free access to that portion of the Treasure-house from which the second grating cut us off. At the grating he and I had some very interesting conversations together upon archæological matters; but Fray Antonio took but little interest in him when he found how slight was the impression made upon him by the most serious of doctrinal talk. In truth, this old fellow—wherefore my own heart warmed to him—was wholly given to the study of antiquities; and so full was his mind of this delightful subject that there was no room left in it for thoughts about religions of any sort. He was entirely catholic in this matter, for his unconcern respecting Christianity was neither more marked nor less marked than was his unconcern toward his own avowed faith.
Many curious things this old man told me touching the history of his people; and he showed me, also, the manner in which their annals were kept—an obvious evolution from the picture-writing of the Aztecs that had advanced to a stage closely resembling the cross between ideaographs and an alphabet that the Coreans use—all of which I have dealt with exhaustively in my larger work. And he told me also, with a wonder that did not seem uncalled for, that several times in each year the Priest Captain retired to the very place in which we then were imprisoned, and remained there sometimes for as much as a whole month cut off from his people, without food or drink, while he communed with the gods.
But what seemed strange to me, and also bitterly disheartening, was that this old man, notwithstanding the office that he held and his hungry love for ancient things, could tell me nothing of the treasure that King Chaltzantzin had stored away. He knew of this treasure, he said, only as a vague tradition; and although, at one time or another, he had explored every chamber in the Treasure-house, he never had found of this ancient deposit the smallest trace; for which excellent reason he had concluded that if ever there had been such a treasure it long since had been dispersed. No doubt—considering how useless to me, beyond the mere gratification of my own curiosity, would have been its discovery—my regret at this abrupt ending of my hopes was most unreasonable; but I confess that, so far as I myself was concerned, the very keenest pang of sorrow that I suffered through all that sorrowful time was when I thus learned that the archæological search that I had entered upon so hopefully, and that I had so laboriously prosecuted, had been but a fool's errand from first to last.
Heavily and wearily the days dragged on as we lay in that dismal prison hewn from the mountain's heart; and as they slowly vanished there stole upon us a new sorrow, that was deeper and more searching than the doubting dread by which we were beset touching the cruel ending of our lives.
Rayburn's wound—a very savage cut in the thigh, made by the jagged edge of a maccahuitl—from the first had been a dangerous one; and the danger had been aggravated by inflammation that had followed that long, hot journey across the lake, and by the rough handling that his bearers had given him, and by the excitement that had attended El Sabio's fiery outburst beside the sacrificial stone. Even Fray Antonio's skill in surgery, without which he assuredly would have quickly died, only barely sufficed to keep him alive while the fever was upon him; and when at last the fever left him, the little strength remaining to him grew less with every passing day. It was pathetic to see this man, who until then had been the very embodiment of rugged vigor, so worn with suffering that without Fray Antonio's tender assistance he scarce could move; and still more pathetic was it to hear him moaning in his pain, and uttering heart-sick longings for sunlight and fresh air, for need of which, Fray Antonio affirmed, he was dying there quite as much as because of his wound. Indeed, the chill chamber in the rock where he was lying was no fit place even for a well man at that time to dwell in; for the season of rains had come, and all the nights were cold and damp, while through the afternoons and in the night-time, during which portions of the day the rain fell in torrents, the whole mountain was shaken by the tremendous peals of thunder which roared and crashed about its crest.
It was after one of poor Rayburn's pitiable outbreaks of weak moaning that Young led me away into the oratory, with the evident intention of delivering himself of some matter that pressed heavily upon his mind.
"See here, Professor, I justcan'tstand this any longer," he said, when we were alone. "I'm goin' t' send word t' th' Priest Captain t' ask him if finishin' me off in short order won't make him willin' t' let Rayburn out o' this damp hole into some place where he can be comfortable, an' where in th' mornin's he can get some sun an' air. Rayburn won't mind bein' squarely killed after he's healthy again. He ain't th' kind t' be afraid of anything when he's feelin' all right. But it's just infernal cruelty t' kill him this way—it wouldn't be fair to a dog. So I'm goin' t' try what I can do. It's nothin' much t' do, any way—only runnin' a little ahead o' th' schedule, that's all."
Oddly enough, something of a like purpose had been for some time past slowly forming in my own mind—though what I intended to do would have, I hoped, still better consequences; for my notion was to urge that for the pleasure that could be had from killing me, my companions should be given such freedom as was to be found in that rock-bound region beyond the Barred Pass. Therefore, when Young thus brought up the matter openly between us, I told him of my own intention; and with some emphasis I advised him that inasmuch as I first had thought of it, to me belonged the right to carry this project into execution; and especially was this right mine, I urged, because but for me neither he nor any of the rest of us—saving only, possibly, Fray Antonio—ever would have come into that valley at all. Thereupon we fell to wrangling somewhat hotly; for Young was a most pig-headed man when his mind was set upon anything, and his notions of argument even at the best of times were of the loosest kind.
How our talk might have ended I cannot tell, for each of us most resolutely was determined to have his own way; but it actually did end because of an interruption by which we presently learned that a will finer and stronger than either of ours had been acting, while we had been only thinking, in a fashion that cut the ground completely from under us both. And all that followed within the next hour or two came upon us with so startling a suddenness that it seemed less like reality than like a terrible dream.
The first intimation that we had that anything was upon us out of the common run of our drearily dull prison life was hearing a creaking noise that we knew must be caused by the raising of the grating that shut us in; and as we hurried out from the oratory into the long passage-way we saw a company of soldiers coming towards us, at the head of which was a priest. Fray Antonio and Pablo, startled as we had been by the sound caused by the opening of the grating and the tramp of feet, also had come out into the passage; but while Pablo evidently was wondering, even as we were wondering, what might be the purpose that these men had come to execute, the look upon the monk's face was of expectation rather than of surprise. And without waiting for the others to speak, he asked, eagerly: "Is it to be?"
"It is to be," the priest answered; and it seemed to me that there was sorrow in the look that went with his words, and sorrow also in the tone of his voice; and that this man truly was sorrowful because of the message that he brought I doubt not, for he was the priest who had been jailer to Fray Antonio, and whose mind had seemed so open to receive the doctrine that Fray Antonio taught.
But there was only joy in the bearing of the monk as his question thus was answered; and there was a ringing gladness in his voice as he replied—being most careful first to draw us away from the room in which Rayburn was lying—to our looks of wondering inquiry. "The Priest Captain has granted my request," he said, and added quickly: "Do not sorrow for me, my friends. Dying for the Faith is the most glorious ending that life can have; and happier still is he to whom, with this rare privilege, is given also that of dying that those whom he loves may yet be saved alive. The Priest Captain has promised that when I have paid this little debt of life you whom I love so greatly shall go free—"
"Don't you believe him! He's a blasted liar from the word go!" Young struck in, clean forgetting, in the passionate sorrow that was rising in his breast, that what Fray Antonio so plainly had in mind to do he himself had been most strongly bent upon doing but a moment before. But Young spoke in English, and without heeding him Fray Antonio went on: "You two, and the boy, surely will live; and perhaps life may be given also to our friend. He is in God's hands. And then, until——"
But further speech was not permitted to him. Two soldiers stepped forward and grasped his arms, yet first suffering him for a moment to clasp hands with us, and so led him towards the open grating; and behind him Young and I and Pablo were conducted in a like fashion by the guards. As we passed the room in which Rayburn lay we heard him moaning faintly; and so weak was he that it seemed to me a very likely thing for us to find him dead there upon our return—if, indeed, we ever returned at all.
As we passed out into the inner court of the temple, where the sum shone joyously—for the day still was young, and the rain-clouds had but begun to gather about the mountain peaks—we heard a murmur in the air like the distant sound of bees buzzing; and as we entered the rear portal of the temple this sound grew louder, yet still was soft and blurred. In the temple, Fray Antonio was separated from us, being led towards the inner entrance of that subterranean passage which opened into the pit of the amphitheatre; and as we went onward to the great portal in the temple's front we cast towards him sorrowful looks, in which all the bitter pain that was in our hearts was concentrated, but had in answer from him, as he walked with elate bearing between his guards, only looks of most joyful hope in which was also a very tender love.
The noise that at first had seemed to us like bees buzzing grew louder as we advanced, until, when we came out upon the open space before the temple, it swelled into a mighty roar. And there the cause of it was plain to us; for before us lay the great amphitheatre crowded with a seething multitude, and all the thousands gathered there were uttering savage cries of delight at thought of the savage spectacle that now in a few moments would gladden their fierce hearts. In the midst of this tumult we were hurried into a sort of balcony, heavily built of stone, that hung upon the slope of the amphitheatre; just behind and above which was a much larger balcony of richly wrought stone-work that was covered by a canopy of colored stuffs, and that had in its midst a sort of throne. And at sight of us a great shout went up, that in a moment died away into a hush of silence as the Priest Captain, with a company of priests about him, entered the balcony behind us and took his seat upon the throne.
But in another instant the shouting burst forth again as Fray Antonio came out from the passage that opened beneath us, and in a moment was lifted bodily by his guards and placed upon the Stone of Sacrifice in plain view of all. I wondered as I saw that only soldiers accompanied him, and that there was no sign of the coming of the priests by whom the sacrifice would be made. But my wonder ceased, and the burning pain that then consumed me was a little lessened, as there came forth from the underground passage, guarded by four soldiers, a very tall, strong Indian, whose muscles stood out in great knots upon his lithe body and legs and arms, and immediately following him six others no less powerful—for then I knew that Fray Antonio was not to die the cruel and bloody death of a sacrificial victim, but was to have, in accordance with the Aztec custom, such chance of life as was to be found in fighting these seven men in turn and receiving his freedom when he had slain them all. Yet as I looked at the slim figure of the monk, and then at these burly giants ready to be pitted against him, I knew that but one result could issue from that unequal combat; and a sudden dizziness came upon me, and for a moment all around me was dark. Nor was this momentary darkness wholly imaginary; for just then—with a low growl of distant thunder—a fragment broke away from the great mass of black cloud that hung upon the crest of the cliff above us and drifted sluggishly across the face of the sun.
When my dizziness had passed, and I could again see clearly, the warrior was standing upon the Stone of Sacrifice—naked save for his breech-clout, and armed with a round shield and a maccahuitl of hardened gold. The monk still wore his flowing habit, whence the hood had fallen back, so that his head was bare; in one hand he held his crucifix, and with the other he was motioning away the sword and shield that a soldier held out to him: at sight of which refusal on his part to be armed there was a shrill outcry among the multitude that the fight would not be fair; and to this sharp noise of strident voices there was added a solemn undertone that came in a low roll of thunder from the overhanging cloud.