The continued good fortune of the prince in evading capture was a
source of great annoyance and aggravation to the evil disposed Maxtla.
He was daily becoming more violent and overt in his conduct, ruling
with an arbitrary hand. He had terrorized his household, and the sound
of his voice was sufficient to cause a flurry of trepidation to agitate
its members. His subjects regarded him with fear and trembling, and his
comportment toward his weaker neighbors was a growing menace. His
soldiers seemed to partake largely of his evil tendencies, for, in
their search after Hualcoyotl, they became a dread to the inhabitants
of the valley and surrounding country in consequence of their flagrant
and atrocious acts.
After weeks of determined but unsuccessful efforts to secure the person
of the prince, Maxtla decided on a council with his advisers over the
matter, and they were accordingly ordered to assemble in the council
chamber. The subject was duly considered, but without any definite
conclusion. As was customary, when a question of so much importance
proved unsolvable by the council, the oracles (high priests) were
called upon for a solution of the matter, which resulted in their
declaring that the gods were favoring the fugitive prince as against
the king, and must be propitiated. Agreeably to this decision, an early
day was fixed for the sacrificial ceremony which was to mollify the
wrath of the particularly offended deities, and the priests were
instructed to have ready the necessary number of victims for the
occasion.
* * * * *
The temples (_teocallis_) of the ancient Mexicans, which were numerous,
were peculiar structures, usually rising in pyramidal form to various
heights, depending, doubtless, on the importance attached to the
presiding deities which they represented and to whom they were
dedicated. They were constructed solidly of earth, incased around with
stone, or blocks of clay, which were hardened by some peculiar process
of their own. The structure usually consisted of several stories--as
many as four or five--each of which rose twenty or more feet,
terminating at a terrace of accommodating width, which extended clear
around the temple. Four or five of these terraces carried the structure
up as much as a hundred feet, culminating in a broad, flat, paved area,
on which were situated the sanctuaries of the gods, and in which a
great sculptured image of each was placed. In front of each sanctuary
was an altar, whereon the sacred fire was kept constantly burning, and
which, not infrequently, was stained with human blood.
Near the altars stood the sacrificial block on which the victim was
immolated in the horrible and sickening act of tearing the heart from
the breast and laying it on the altar as a conciliatory offering to the
offended deity, while the organ was still pulsating.
The terraces were gained by steps on the outside, leaning at an angle
with the wall, which inclined toward the center.
The ceremonies were always public, and from the situation at the summit
were to be viewed from any part of the city.
The processions engaged in by the priests--a multitude in themselves,
winding their way as many times as there were terraces around the great
_teocalli_, from base to summit--were impressive spectacles, at which
the people were expected to be present as witnesses; and, as one author
has said, since a ceremony of some sort occurred almost every day, it
is difficult to understand how the ordinary business of life could,
under such conditions, go on.
The day appointed by Maxtla for the propitiating of the gods was
ushered in by the sound of the doleful drum. The people, who were
assembled by thousands, arrayed in their most gorgeous attire--when
arrayed at all--filled the city's public places. A religious chant,
accompanied with dancing and contortions of the body, and a
representation of minstrelsy, in a multiplication of weird noises, was
begun and continued throughout the procession and ceremony.
One by one the victims were led or borne to the sacrificial block, and
if, perchance, they paused upon the area of the temple's summit, their
anointed bodies, which were shielded only by a girdle about the loins,
glistened in the sun's intense light--a mollifying spectacle for Aztec
gods.
When the ceremony had progressed to that point when all the
bloodthirstiness which such sights must surely beget in the savage mind
had taken possession of the witnesses, a thought seemed to occur
suddenly to Maxtla, who was a delighted spectator of the bloody
carnival, and he exclaimed:
"Bring hither Itzalmo, the traitorous friend and counselor of
Hualcoyotl, and prepare him for the sacrifice. Let him die for the
appeasing of the gods."
The prison-keeper, who had charge of Itzalmo's dungeon, took the
necessary assistance and proceeded to execute the order of the king.
When the dungeon to which Itzalmo had been consigned was reached by the
prison-keeper and his assistants, the door was thrown open, and they
entered to secure the prisoner, but a surprise awaited them which they
were not anticipating--the cell was empty; Itzalmo was not there.
The prison-keeper was speechless with amazement at the discovery, and,
on contemplating the consequences to himself of the prisoner's escape,
became horrified at the thought of the fate which certainly awaited
him. He returned to the presence of the king, fully realizing the awful
strait in which the situation put him. Prostrating himself at Maxtla's
feet, he cried out, in accents of despair:
"Woe is come to thy servant, O King, and he is undone; for Itzalmo, the
prisoner, is gone! He has fled his prison cell."
Maxtla looked for a moment, in menacing silence, on the prostrate man
before him, his face becoming, as he did so, livid with rage. When he
spoke, his accents were inhuman--demoniacal.
"Miserable dotard!" he exclaimed. "Thy cowardly, cringing body is fit
only for sacerdotal hands. A heart for a heart it shall be--not
Itzalmo's, but thine, shall fall to-day, to assuage the offended gods.
Take him hence to the block, and let his blood condone his offense."
Thus did the keeper of Itzalmo's dungeon become, innocently, the victim
of Maxtla's ferocity.
The sacrificial ceremony was at last concluded. The sanguinary rites,
in compliance with the demands of the offended deities, had been
formally observed, and Maxtla, according to the declarations of the
oracles, was thereby restored to favor. The assembled multitude
dispersed, self-satisfied with its part in the bloody festival, and
quiet once more prevailed in Azcapozalco.
Maxtla was not a man to be thwarted in his designs without a supreme
effort to accomplish them. Itzalmo had escaped, but the whole Tepanec
empire should be called to the support of the king, that his purposes
might be made good. Pursuant to this end an edict was issued, to the
effect that Itzalmo was outlawed, and, furthermore, his delivery to the
Tepanec authorities, dead or alive, would be amply rewarded.
Unfortunately for Maxtla, in his purpose to not only retake Itzalmo,
but to discover his abettors, who, if taken, would suffer equally with
the escaped prisoner, he had, in sacrificing his prison-keeper, removed
the only person who might have found a clue to the party concerned in
the liberation. By his destruction the security of the liberators, if
not Itzalmo's, was assured.
* * * * *
When it was learned by the friends of Itzalmo, who were members of the
king's retinue, and who, during his imprisonment, had looked well to
his comforts, that a sacrifice to the gods was contemplated, they
became alarmed for his safety, and at once set about arranging for his
escape. The necessary preparations were effected, and the night prior
to the day on which the sacrifice was to take place was fixed upon as
the time to deliver him from his imprisonment.
Agreeably to arrangements, about the hour of midnight two men entered
the passage which led to the stairway down which they had to go to be
on the same ground as was Itzalmo's dungeon. They were not unacquainted
with the locality, and quickly gained the avenue leading to the cell.
One of the party carried a lighted taper, which greatly facilitated
their movements. When the cell was reached, the fastenings were removed
and the door thrown open. As it swung back on its hinges, one of the
party inquired:
"Are you ready, Itzalmo?"
"Yes, I am ready. Lead on," he answered, and walked forth a free man
once more.
When he was outside of the dungeon the fastenings were replaced, and
the party moved silently and cautiously to the stairway, and up. Here
the taper was extinguished, making their progress from this point
necessarily very slow. They finally emerged upon the narrow court at
the rear of the palace, and from there into the great inclosed court,
where one of the conductors turned aside, leaving the other to
accompany Itzalmo alone.
Leaving the great court, Itzalmo and his conductor came out onto a wide
street, feeling somewhat apprehensive as to the outcome of their
undertaking. The city was thoroughly policed by the soldiers of the
king, who were supposed to be, without exception, his adherents.
However, Itzalmo was a stranger to all of them, whether friends or
foes, which was greatly in his favor.
The old Tezcucan's friends had taken the precaution to furnish him with
a suit of priestly attire, making it an easy matter to offer a pretense
for being on the street at so unseasonable an hour. Under such
conditions the liability of detection was greatly lessened.
The avenues of the royal city being broad and extensive, Itzalmo and
his conductor could hardly expect to travel them, even at the late hour
of midnight, without being discovered, and, in all probability,
stopped. So the bold plan of moving nonchalantly through the streets
was adopted.
An exhibition of nonchalance does not always indicate unflinching
bravery, and is never assumed by a brave man, except as a means to an
end.
Though men of the dare-devil stamp, who are nonchalant, and appear to
be careless of consequences, may not, under such circumstances as
surrounded the old Tezcucan and his escort, feel in any degree
apprehensive, it is not always the result of true courage, but more
often lack of consideration. Such men are not to be classed in any
sense with the conscientious, considerate man, who, anxious and
expectant, steps into the unexplored and doubtful breach, uncertain as
to what awaits him there--the man who, realizing that danger, and
perhaps death, may be just ahead, sets hard his teeth, and, with paling
cheek, goes bravely forward to meet it. The latter is the man who wins
battles, and, if needs be, dies a hero, while the former far too often
proves himself a blustering braggart, who, when death stalks forth,
forgets all else save his own safety, and ignominiously becomes a
turn-tail.
We have seen Itzalmo, with dauntless courage, face the tyrant Maxtla,
the most cruel and heartless man in all the Anahuac; still, he was not
a dare-devil, but a conscientious, unswerving friend, who could die in
the performance of a duty, as only such men can. His courage, however,
was not a feelingless one. His heart, no doubt, beat quicker, while his
face grew less florid; yet, in the consciousness of well-doing, and the
strength of an unyielding faithfulness, he was capable of heroic
action.
When the distance of about two squares had been gone over, they were
challenged by the demand:
"Who goes there at this late hour?"
"A priest and escort, on their way to visit the sick," was the quick
reply.
"Ah, Melca, is that you?" questioned the guard, who recognized an
acquaintance in the voice of Itzalmo's companion.
"Yes, it is me," he answered. "I am seldom out at this hour,"
apologetically, "but the call of a friend in distress must needs be
answered, even though it be at midnight."
The escort was not a little disturbed at his sudden recognition by the
guard, though, on second thought, saw security in Itzalmo's perfect
disguise. The old man made a venerable representative of the character
he had assumed, which the soldier could easily discern in the
semi-darkness; and as great reverence for that class of citizens was
generally entertained, there was hardly a possibility of detection.
After a brief scrutiny of the priestly appearing Itzalmo, the guard
said:
"It is well, Melca. Pass on; and may your friend find consolation from
your visit."
Since he had succeeded without difficulty in deceiving an acquaintance,
Melca was assured that they would have no trouble in passing out of the
city, and so it proved. They met with several guards, who readily
passed them along when informed of the mission they were on. Thus they
got safely beyond the city's limits and out into the country, where a
consultation was held as to where they should go.
It was wisely concluded to keep away from Tezcuco, as it would
undoubtedly be the first place visited by the emissaries of Maxtla in
their search for the condemned Itzalmo. They decided, accordingly, to
get out of the tyrannical king's dominions as quickly as possible, and
seek concealment in some secluded locality. A road leading to the
south, along the western border of the lake, was taken and followed
until Tlacopan was reached, where a stop of one day was made to give
Itzalmo a resting spell; after which they went on around the lake until
they came to a small, isolated hamlet, situated on the lake's border,
among the trees which grew there, and by which it was almost hidden,
where the old man found refuge with some loyal countrymen, with whom we
leave him for the present, in company with Melca, his escort, who
decided, after being recognized by the guard, that it might not be safe
for him to return to Azcapozalco.