A City by the Water
For many weeks Roger de Luce had longed to see the city of Mexico,
though it was a much shorter time since he had learned that that was the
name of the place depicted upon the golden disc which had come into
Peter Tamworth's hands. He had looked forward to beholding this quaint
place, erected in the middle of a lake, surrounded, in fact, by water,
and approached by one or more causeways. He had never dreamed that his
ambition would so soon be gratified, nor was he so vastly pleased now
that he had come to this spot, reputed to hold a store of treasure.
Indeed, there are few who could look upon the prospects which now faced
him with a cheerful face, for it was not long before he learned that the
solid wooden bars of his cage were wont to hold captives--captives kept
for the day of sacrifice. The thought was horrible, but the fact was
true, for daily men were extracted from the other cage, and taken to the
summit of the temple.
Let us leave our friend Roger in this predicament for a little while,
discussing the position with his faithful Tamba, while we ascertain the
movements of that gallant and astute leader known as Fernando Cortes,
and the reasons and objects which had brought him to this Terra Firma.
The reader will recollect that mention has been made of the voyages of
discovery made by the Portuguese, mostly to Africa, voyages which taught
the Regent of the country that there were islands such as Madeira and
the Canaries, and which, if they did nothing else, brought a few slaves
back to the shores of Portugal. Indeed, the first success of these
expeditions led to a ghastly human traffic which accounted in later
years for an importation of some thousand slaves per annum. But the
Portuguese were not the first to display some curiosity in outside
conditions, to investigate other parts, for the voyages accomplished by
them, and those of Columbus, were merely links in a long chain of
adventurous enterprises by sea which commenced centuries before, and
have not ceased even at this date. Indeed, the East, the Far East, had
been known of for very many years, while the Phoenicians, the Greeks,
and the Carthaginians had sent their vessels out till the coasts of
Southern Europe and Asia were known, as well as the northern coast of
Africa. After these heroes came the Roman Empire, and we have little, if
any, more information of discoveries till the beginning of the twelfth
century, when there was renewed activity amongst the maritime peoples.
In fact, the twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries
constitute what is known as the "age of discovery," and of these the
fifteenth century, with the earlier portion of the following one, was
certainly the most productive of discoveries. And it is a curious
coincidence that while men's minds were turned to foreign parts, to the
effort to obtain knowledge of foreign peoples and affairs, there should
have been a revival in other matters. The arts and sciences made headway
during these centuries, while religious feeling revived, and enormous
exertions were made to Christianize the heathen. In fact, Christianity
was widely spread by the end of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries,
while a bitter war was being waged against the Saracens, who dominated
Africa and the Mediterranean, keeping Genoa and Venice in check, while
their armies conquered Spain, and even invaded France. But the energies
of these intrepid warriors were not confined to war alone, for they
sought for commerce, and there is little doubt but that they were
acquainted with the Red Sea, with the east coast of Africa as far as
Madagascar, and with much of the west coast of the same continent. But
their knowledge was obtained for the most part not by voyages, but by
overland routes, so that the interior, perhaps, rather than the
coast-line was known.
In course of time these Saracens were beaten back by the tide of
Christian chivalry, and then we find the Genoese prospecting voyages, in
which they explored the Atlantic border of Africa, and wondered whether
a passage existed to the due west by means of which they could reach
India, the Far East.
And now we come to that period, extending over some sixty years, during
which the Portuguese sent expeditions south along the west coast of
Africa. These voyages, at first productive of only a few slaves, and
later of a huge traffic in these unhappy victims of their raids, finally
ended in the wonderful achievement of Bartolomeo Diaz, who rounded the
Cape of Good Hope in 1485. Ten years later the intrepid Vasco de Gama
doubled this cape, and sailed along the eastern coast of Africa to
Durban, and from there to India itself, thus proving the existence of
the huge continent of Africa, and the possibility of a passage to the
Far East by way of the Cape of Good Hope.
However, this was not that due westerly route which philosophers and
wise men spoke of, which tradition almost laid down as a fact, and the
adventurous nations still pondered, still wondered whether it existed.
Even in England the subject was as much in the minds of our sailors as
in those of Portugal and Spain, and many a ship put out from Bristol
intent on its discovery. But the attempt always ended in failure, for,
after steering to the west for two weeks, perhaps, the mariners would
fancy that they were on the wrong track, and would make some other
course, finally returning disappointed to Bristol.
But the Spaniards succeeded in discovering land to the west, if none
others had done so, for in 1494 Vicente Pinzon, with Americo Vespucci,
put out for the west, and came upon Brazil, the River Amazon, and the
coast of South America. It was thought that the East Indies had been
found, that the western passage had been hit upon, for no one dreamed
that the huge continent of America intervened. And it was not till
later, till after Columbus's later voyages, and the discovery of the
Pacific Ocean, and the rounding of Cape Horn by Magalhaes, that the full
significance of the new land was understood. Then, owing to an error, by
which Americo Vespucci was thought to be the commander of the
expedition which fell in with Brazil, the whole continent was given the
title which it now bears.
The description of these voyages brings us at length to that first one
of Columbus, a doughty sailor who had often taken part in the Portuguese
trips along the west coast of Africa. He was, in fact, in the service of
Portugal, and this theory of a western passage must often have been
pondered on during the voyages he made in that service. At length it
grew into a firm belief, and he went to Henry of Portugal with the
desire that he might be offered the command of an expedition. But this
was not the wish of the Portuguese, for were they to discover this
western passage they could not keep it to themselves, while the coast of
Africa, which they had found, and had commenced to colonize, was theirs
by right, and could not so easily be usurped. Columbus therefore
received no encouragement, and in despair sent his appeal to the court
of Spain, and to Henry the Seventh of England. Accident alone placed him
in the service of Spain, for when at length the message reached him from
England, ordering him to attend the court, an arrangement had been come
to with Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain. Thereafter preparations were
made for the voyage, and on August 3, 1492, he set sail. It is needless
to tell of his progress, to relate how, after sailing for some three
weeks, he still saw nothing but sea about him, and how his men desired
him to return, believing that were they to sail over the horizon there
would be no escape, and no power of getting back to their native land.
Then they found themselves surrounded by a mass of seaweed, extending
as far as the eye could reach, and through which they slowly cleaved
their way. At length, after a voyage of thirty-six days, land was
sighted, and after three months the bold mariners returned with the
information that they had discovered an island, and a continent near at
hand. This island, now known as Hayti, or San Domingo, was called
Hispaniola, while the adjacent country, thought by Columbus, to the day
of his death, to be part of a continent, proved to be an island, and was
called Cuba.
Thereafter this fine sailor made three voyages, discovering the northern
coast of South America in the neighbourhood of Trinidad. He had come to
the Indies, he thought--to Earthly Paradise, as he called the
land--never suspecting that this was a new and undiscovered world, and
that Vicente Pinzon's voyage, together with that of Magalhaes's rounding
of the southern cape, would prove it to be part of a mighty continent,
then peopled by a dusky race, but hereafter to form a home for new
nations of white and coloured men.
The reader can imagine how the tale of this discovery fired the people
of Spain, and engrafted in the minds of all, in that of old and young
alike, a longing for new fields, for adventure in these foreign parts.
For Columbus told of a friendly people, of gorgeous scenery and herbage,
and of pearls in abundance. What wonder if thousands clamoured to
follow! Spain was at peace, and there was no other outlet for the spirit
of chivalry with which her young men were filled. So an expedition was
arranged, and Ojeda commanded it. But he fell out with the natives and
fought with them, so that when other voyagers came they met too often
with the reverse of a welcome.
It would be tedious to detail the names of all the adventurous dons who
followed, to tell how Cristobal Guerra and Alonso Nino came directly on
Ojeda's heels, and how, with more discretion and perception, they took
pains to do as Columbus had done, making friends with the natives. From
the latter they obtained for paltry wares an abundance of pearls, all of
which had come from the pearl fisheries close at hand, these lying at an
island which was so sterile that the natives did not inhabit it. By name
Cabagua, it, of course, formed a great attraction to the Spaniards, and
when the tale of their success came with them to Spain, and these
adventurers carried their stores of pearls ashore, as if they were so
many pebbles, the fame of their undertaking went through the breadth of
the land. Thousands clamoured to follow, so that ere very long this
island was colonized, a town being built there, and named "New Cadiz."
Thus we find Spaniards on the mainland, or within a very little distance
of it. Nor was it long before La Casas and others followed, all with the
one thought of making a fortune.
Some were content to accomplish this purpose by hard work at the
fisheries, but others soon took to another trade, and commenced to hunt
for slaves. It cannot be a matter of wonder to the reader to hear that
these fiends in the end provoked a peaceful group of natives, for along
the thousands of leagues of the pearl coast there were numerous races
and tribes, many of them of sufficient numbers to be designated nations.
They turned and many a Spanish soldier and monk paid the penalty.
[Illustration: MAP OF PART OF MEXICO.]
But this portion of the northern coast of South America hardly concerns
us, though its discovery directly led up to farther wanderings, to more
voyages of discovery, and to the finding of Yucatan, of the Isthmus of
Panama, and finally to the discovery by the intrepid Vasco Nunez de
Bilbao of the Southern Sea, the wide Pacific; for this man actually
accomplished the journey across the Isthmus of Panama, and reached the
farther coast, where he learned vaguely of the wonders of Peru, of a
country where natives lived in stone houses, and in cities; where there
was a well-ordered government with a king, and where, as was afterwards
discovered during the conquest of these Peruvians, a system of roads
existed than which there has never been anything finer. Indeed, an
inspection of what remains of these coast roads to-day shows that they
were excellently engineered, that they were composed of tough concrete
which still holds together, while bridges connected the road across the
rivers. More than that, by a system of couriers, stationed at close
intervals of some forty yards, it was possible to send a verbal message
over the road at a swift rate, the couriers running their forty yards
and handing on the message. And that same message could thus be
transmitted for a distance of a thousand miles.
However, Peru even does not concern us, for it is to Mexico that we
turn, to the northern portion of the long isthmus which connects North
to South America, and is spoken of in these days as Central America.
The great Fernando Cortes set sail from Santiago, in Cuba, on November
18, 1518, his banner bearing a coloured cross on a black background,
with flames showing here and there, and an inscription in Latin beneath,
which read, "Let us follow the Cross, and in that sign we shall
conquer."
He sailed with an armament of five hundred and fifty Spaniards, two or
three hundred Indians, a few negroes, twelve or fifteen horses, ten
brass guns, and some falconets. Touching at Trinidad, he then went to
the island of Cosumel, near the north-eastern point of Yucatan, where he
was so fortunate to come upon the survivor of a crew of Spaniards who
had been wrecked, and who, having lived with the natives for very long,
spoke their language fluently. In this manner an excellent interpreter
was obtained.
Fernando then set his prow for the west, and came to Tabasco, where he
landed, and encountering resistance from the natives, fought a great
battle, defeating his enemy. But Tabasco was not the country for which
he aimed, and it was the ambition of this leader to go farther north, to
discover new lands, and to find wealth. Nor was he destined to be
disappointed, for the Tabascans could tell tales of other countries,
tales which had come to their ears, and there was one amongst them who
had lived in the provinces of a country which paid tribute to Mexico.
This person was a female slave, by name Marina, and she was given,
together with others, to the Spaniards after their victory. Thus Cortes,
almost at the very commencement of his voyage, found himself in
possession of a Spaniard able to converse with the Mexicans, and of a
woman slave of rare intelligence, and, as was to be afterwards proved,
of the utmost loyalty to her new masters, who could make up for any
deficiencies of the Spaniard.
With this success to encourage him, Cortes embarked again, and set sail
for the north, arriving at a portion of the coast opposite to Mexico,
which lay some little distance inland, hidden by its encircling
mountains, and to which he gave the name of St. Juan de Ulua. Here he
met with a friendly reception from the natives, and very shortly
received in audience two gorgeous officers who had been sent by the
great king Montezuma, the lord of Mexico.
To all the expressed wishes of the Spaniards for a permit to go to the
city of Mexico this Montezuma returned evasive replies, and finally
forbade them to come. And on every occasion on which he sent his envoys
they came to Cortes laden with gold and jewels, and with feathered
cloaks, all gifts to the Spaniards, a mark of the king's high favour.
Had he sent anything else, or words alone, he would have done much
better, and perhaps the history of Mexico would be vastly different
to-day; for Cortes and his company had a quicker eye and a readier ear
for riches and tales of riches, of gold and jewels, than they had for
lands, for peoples as yet undiscovered. They were tempted, and this
refusal to allow them to proceed acted rather as a spur than as a
deterrent. Cortes was not the man to be baulked by any one, and
certainly not by a native, even if he were a king. He was ambitious, as
has been said, decisive and bold, and, in addition, was of a dogged
disposition. He had come to discover, to gain new lands for the king,
his master, and he would not be deterred by a native. Had he known the
warlike disposition of the Mexicans, and the armies which they and their
allies were able to put into the field, it is possible that he would
have hastily embarked again, and sailed for Hispaniola or Cuba, with a
view to gathering fresh forces. But there was more than doggedness and
sheer contrariness as a cause for his determination to go to the city of
Mexico; for it happened that Cortes had many enemies--so many, in fact,
that though the command had been given to him, Velazques would have
taken it from him within a day or two, and, indeed, sent a messenger
with instructions that Cortes was to be recalled. However, this was not
what this gallant leader wanted, and he evaded the summons and proceeded
to the coast of New Spain. To return now unsuccessful would mean not
alone the loss of command, but much more. Indeed, Cortes had disobeyed
the orders of those in authority, so that to gain his own pardon it was
necessary for him to make some conquest, and to establish his right to
lead. Therefore, in spite of the numbers opposed to him, numbers which
he learned were big, but the proportions of which he never even guessed
at, he decided to push on for Mexico, and conquer the country if that
were possible. We shall see how he fared in this adventure, and how the
very fact of his being a white man aided him; also how circumstances
played into his hands, so as to render him the utmost help. But Roger de
Luce is still in his cage, and we will return to him.
"I have been speaking with one of the prisoners," said Tamba, some
little while after Roger had awakened, and had looked about him with
curious eyes. "Our tongue is somewhat like his, but he also speaks
Spanish. He is one of the allies of these men who came to Cuba, and he
was captured in a battle which took place a little while ago."
"Then the Spanish under Fernando Cortes are here!" exclaimed Roger, in
some astonishment, for this was the first intimation he had had of that
fact. "Did you ask how long they had been in Mexico, and what success
they had had?"
"They were here some months, and have been gone a little while, my
lord," was the answer. "The Mexicans rose, and drove them out. Now they
are awaiting their return."
"And will they submit?" demanded Roger, anxiously. "For then we shall
become captives of the Spaniards, and that would be worse even than
this."
There was a doubting look in Tamba's eyes, and for a little while he
hesitated whether to tell his young master of the critical position in
which they were. At length he summoned courage, and spoke.
"To be a Spanish captive again could hardly be worse than our fate now,"
he said softly. "My lord is now a prisoner in the hands of the Mexicans,
and he knows nothing of these people, save that they live in the centre
of a lake. He does not know of their cruelty, and of their wicked
practices."
Roger was entirely ignorant, to speak the truth, and, more than that,
was amazed at the size of Mexico, and the huge numbers of people he saw
about when he looked down from the pass, and the fine houses in which
they lived. Till then he had hardly expected the natives in this new
part to be much different from those to be seen in Cuba. But he was to
learn much in the next few hours, and before he departed from Mexico was
to know that these Aztecs were in many ways highly civilized, practising
many of the higher arts and crafts, learned in picture writing, and able
engineers. Alongside these attainments, Roger learned that they had
certain practices which were strangely incongruous in a people so
advanced in civilization, and that the nation, from the highest
downwards, was swayed by the cruellest superstitions and religious
rites. He was now to hear of one of the latter.
"Their wicked practices!" he gasped. "What do you mean? They looked
peaceful enough, and rather melancholy, I thought. What are these
practices?"
"The sacrifice, master," said Tamba, mournfully. "These Mexicans have
many gods to whom they look, and whom they seek to appease, some with
gifts of meat and cereals, others with the sacrifice of animals, while
there is one in particular, the mighty war god, named Huitzilopochtli,
to whom they offer men."
"Men! They sacrifice human beings!" exclaimed Roger, in disgust and
dismay. "Then we----"
"Are reserved for that fate; and all these others, master. They will
kill us so that we may bring fortune to them in their wars, and aid them
against the Spaniards."
"Then they take us for enemies instead of friends," said Roger, quickly.
"They think, perhaps, that we are Spaniards in Cortes's band, and
therefore will be more than ever inclined to kill us."
"They say that we are a portion of these invaders, and that we must die.
The man with whom I spoke told me that. He says that we may be summoned
at any time, and that they will drag us to this war god. It is a
horrible thought!"
Roger looked about him as if in a dream. He was stupefied and stunned by
the awful news which Tamba had given him; for though he had by now met
danger boldly and without flinching, and had risked his life in the
encounters with the Spaniards, yet this cruel fate undermined his
courage. He was ready to die when the time came, but to be held down,
perhaps, and then slaughtered like a sheep, was too horrible. The
thought unmanned him, and for a little while he sank on his knees, his
face buried in his hands. Then he gradually recovered his composure and
looked about him, his eye turning to the prisoners in the second cage.
There were at least two hundred of them, and he was astounded to find
that they were chatting contentedly together, some even laughing and
joking. Was the same fate reserved for them? He turned and asked Tamba
the question.
"The same, my lord," was the calm answer. "But these men look upon it in
a different way. Thousands die here every year for the sake of the gods,
and death in that manner is an honour. I have asked this man, and he
said that their religion teaches them that to be sacrificed gives
instant admission to the region of the sun, where they live happily
afterwards. As to the death, it is swift and sure, and the deed is soon
done. Fear not, master, for it may not come to that. Perhaps they will
believe that you are no Spaniard."
It was poor consolation, but Roger had to make the most of it. He sat
for a long while thinking the matter over, and when a few hours had
gone, was himself again, prepared to face the executioners, should it
come to that. But the native prisoners amazed him. True, all these
Aztecs had a melancholy cast of countenance, but a glance at their faces
showed that the doom awaiting them made little impression, and did not
weigh on their minds. They were resigned and happy. Later on he learned
that throughout the land of Mexico these sacrifices were carried on, and
that at the lowest computation twenty thousand men died on the
sacrificial altars during the year. The people were held fast in the
chains of a cruel religious despotism, and bowed themselves in abject
resignation. They saw their finest children, their sons and their
firstborn torn from them, and acquiesced because their superstitions
bade them do so. It was a horrible condition of affairs, and cruel
though the Spaniards were, their coming was a boon to the country,
though it broke up the Aztec races. However, we are anticipating, and
will return to Roger.
Late in the afternoon there was a stir in the huge quadrangle in which
the cages were built, and attendants came with food for the captives.
Then a mass of people began to filter into the square, and amongst them
some who were dressed in black robes, and wore their hair in long
tangled wreaths about their necks and faces. They were ugly-looking
fellows, and Roger shuddered as he looked at them.
"The priests," whispered Tamba, "and that"--pointing to one clad in
scarlet--"is the head of all, the one who performs the sacrifice. They
are coming towards us."
"Then we will fight till we are killed! Sooner that than be butchered.
Let us look for a weapon, Tamba, and then we will set these fellows at
defiance."
He sprang to his feet and searched the cage, but there was nothing to
help him. He and Tamba had long since been deprived of their weapons,
while the floor of the cage was bare, and it would have required an axe
to sever one of the stout bars. Opposition was out of the question, and
Roger promptly realized it. He faced round and watched the priests as
they advanced, looking them unflinchingly in the face. Then his eye
turned to some half-dozen other men who walked behind the men in black
and scarlet, gorgeously dressed in feathered cloaks and light golden
armour, while their heads were covered, some with carved wooden helmets,
made to represent the heads of birds, while others had plumes in their
hair. But all displayed many golden bangles and neck-chains, and their
head-dress and many parts of their armour and their weapons were
encrusted with jewels. Then the tale was true. Mexico was filled with
riches! But Roger had no time to give a thought to that now, for the
procession had reached the cage. It halted outside, and two of the
priests entered and said something in soft tones.
"We don't understand," said Roger, in English. "We are not Spaniards,
and we want to know why you have placed us in this cage. We are not wild
beasts, and are ready to be friendly."
It was hopeless. The priest merely shook his head and beckoned to them.
"Try him with your tongue, Tamba," said Roger, in desperation. "Ah, I
remember that you said you could not make them understand. I will try
Spanish."
"We have nothing to do with your enemies," he said sternly, standing to
his full height. "We wish you no harm. Let us have an interpreter, and
we will explain."
Again he met with failure, while the priest still beckoned politely, and
answered in soft tones. Roger looked about him desperately, and noticed
that the other priests had now entered the cage, and had taken up their
places near at hand. He measured them with his eye, and wondered whether
he could kill them all if he fell upon them. Then he recollected the
crowd outside, and pondered.
"Shall we go or stay?" he demanded of Tamba. "We could clear these
fellows out of this and bar the door. Then they would be unable to get
at us. Anything rather than be sacrificed."
"Perhaps that is not their wish, master," answered Tamba. "They speak
softly to us, and there is no harshness. Supposing we went, deciding to
resist only when they attempt to lay hands on us or to lash us. For to
drive them from the cage and hold it would merely mean that they would
shoot clouds of arrows at us. You can see their bows."
Roger looked, and saw that every man in the assembled throng carried a
small bow and a quiver of arrows, while many also had a long club-shaped
weapon thrust into belts about their waists. This was their sword,
called the "maquahuitl," and consisted of a stick some three and a half
feet long, about four inches thick at the biggest end, and was armed on
either side with small blades of obsidian, a stone of extreme hardness,
and capable of taking a razor edge. Indeed, these weapons could give a
terrible wound, though the first stroke, if it met Spanish armour, was
apt to break the stone, when the weapon became an ordinary club. In
addition, others of the crowd carried lances, and a few slings, with a
bag of stones about their shoulders. All were dressed in linen garments,
which were clean and well made. It was obvious that resistance at this
point was out of the question, and therefore Roger decided to put the
best face on the matter.
"We will go with them," he said at length; "and do you keep a sharp eye
on me, Tamba. I don't mean to be slaughtered without a struggle, and if
I see that it is coming to that, I will make a rush at the nearest man
with arms and seize them. One of those swords of theirs would suit me,
though I would rather it were heavier and bigger. Now then; we will
move. We are ready," he said, turning to the priests. "Keep close,
Tamba. I don't like the look of these fellows."
With a bow he intimated that they would follow, and a minute later found
them outside the cage. Then the procession reformed. The priests lined
up on either side of their prisoners, the one in scarlet taking his
place in front. A horn was blown, and they set off for the far side of
the square, the warriors in their gorgeous trappings falling in behind,
while the crowd followed in any order, their eyes fixed on the tall
figure of the white man. Presently the procession passed out of the
square, and Roger noted with a qualm that their steps were trending
towards a gigantic tower which stood some little way in front. Was it
the sacrificial tower, where men were slain to appease the god of
war--the Mexican Mars? Roger looked askance at Tamba, and noted that he
too was ill at ease. Then he turned his attention to his surroundings,
marvelling at the beauty of the scene and at the thousands of
well-dressed and prosperous people who surrounded them. Indeed, Mexico
was _en fête_. The surroundings of the square were thronged with the
people, and all had their eyes fixed upon the white prisoner. They
greeted his coming with shouts of joy and admiration, while mothers held
their children up above their heads that they might see. On every side
the flat roofs bore their human load, while numerous adjacent towers
were black along that side which faced the larger one, the nodding of
plumes and the gay colour of the clothing showing that people were also
crowded there.
"We cause some attention to be shown," said Roger, beneath his breath.
"It would seem as though these Mexicans wish to do honour to us, for
watch how some throw themselves on their knees as we pass, while others
wave their hands to us. Perhaps, after all, our fears are groundless."
Tamba shook his head disconsolately, for his conversation with the Aztec
captive had told him another tale. However, he would not cause his
master unnecessary alarm, and refrained, therefore, from answering.
"He will find out in good time," he murmured to himself. "Happier for
him if I keep silent. For me, this death is nothing. A few weeks ago I
would have welcomed any fate which took me from the Spaniards, and now
all that I live for is this white man, my master. If he dies, then so
will I also."
By now the procession had passed across a wide courtyard sprinkled
thickly with scented blossoms, and was at the foot of the tower. The
latter measured at least a hundred feet on each face, and rose for many
yards till the first terrace was reached. There were three or four more
above that, so that the summit overtopped the city. Leading the way to
one corner, the priest in scarlet began to ascend by way of a flight of
steps which passed round the sides of the tower, reaching the first
terrace after encircling it once. There another flight commenced, and so
on till the summit was reached. Not till then did Roger realize the
significance of all this display, of the assembled crowds, and of their
shouts of joy. Arrived on the summit, his eye lit upon a huge figure in
the shape of a serpent, coloured and jewelled with numerous stones.
Directly in front of this, and occupying such a position that all in the
streets of Mexico could observe it, was an enormous green stone, with
smoothed faces, and with convex top. But worse than all was the presence
of blood on this stone, and upon the hideous image of the war god. Roger
then knew that he had been brought to the sacrifice, and in an instant
his resolve was taken.
"They shall cut me to pieces first before I submit," he said to Tamba.
"Watch me now, and prepare to act. If one of those hideous priests
approaches me, I will break away from the crowd and seize one of those
corners. Look, Tamba there is a chapel or room of some sort over there.
We will make it a fort."
There was no time for more. The black-robed priests advanced to the
green stone altar and politely beckoned to Roger, while the crowds below
became strangely silent, their eagerness stilling their tongues.
"Come," said the priest in the scarlet cloak, beckoning again, "we will
not delay, or keep the war god waiting. Let the white stranger advance
first and lie upon the altar."
The time had come. A priest closed in on either side of Roger, while
others fell in behind. He was surrounded, and the moment for action had
arrived.