IN THE PASSAGES BENEATH THE TEMPLE
Although Huetzin felt certain that some secret door or panel must offer
a passage through the wall, against which he had run with such rude
force, he realized, from past experience, the folly of attempting to
discover it. Therefore, when he had somewhat recovered from the shock
just received, he slowly and carefully retraced his way along the
passage, in search of some other opening leading from it.
In the meantime the chief priest, who had discovered no sign of the
fugitive since the door at the foot of the stairway was flung to in
his face, had hastened on out of the underground labyrinth. He posted
guards at all its exits, with the information that an escaped prisoner,
who must be seized the moment he showed himself, was wandering about in
it, and ordered a victim, selected at random from the temple cages, to
be killed and his heart torn out. With this in his hand Topil made his
way, undiscovered, to the private apartments of the king, reaching them
just in time to anticipate the return of the monarch from the temple.
Feeling well satisfied with this portion of his morning's work, and
being also convinced that the prisoner, who had twice eluded him, was
still within his reach, the chief priest, after leaving the palace,
made several calls on powerful nobles well know as being opposed to
the king's present method of treating the invaders of Anahuac. These
he invited to attend a secret meeting, to be held that very day, in a
place well known to all of them, and in every case the invitation was
gladly accepted.
While the priest was thus engaged Huetzin was wandering hopelessly
through the black mazes of the underground passages, stairways, rooms,
and hidden doorways, that he had entered so easily, but from which he
now found it so impossible to escape. Some of the passages that he
followed ended, as the first had done, with blank walls, while others
led into chambers of greater or less size, as he discovered by groping
his way around them. He was faint, weary, and aching in every joint,
tortured by the pangs of hunger and a burning thirst. Above all, it
seemed to the young Toltec that he must be going mad, as the horrors of
his situation crowded thick and fast upon him. In spite of his dread of
being recaptured by the priests, he shouted at the top of his voice,
and the underground echoes jeered at him with hollow mockery.
Finally he found himself in a hall or chamber that seemed much larger
than any he had yet entered, and here he managed to lose touch of
the rough wall, along which he had felt his way until the ends of his
fingers were worn to the quick. As he moved forward with uncertain
steps, seeking to regain it, he stumbled against some large object,
fell, and rolled partly under it. So far as he could tell by the
feeling, it was a stone altar or table, covered with a heavy tapestry
that hung in folds to the floor on all sides.
It was pleasant to encounter something besides cold stone, and instead
of rising at once Huetzin lay still, passing his hands mechanically
over the soft cloth. His thoughts became hazy and he seemed to be
drifting into space. How much better it was to lie there than to wander
aimlessly through those interminable passages as he had been doing for
days--or weeks--which was it? He tried to remember, but could not. At
any rate it was a long time, long enough for one to be dead, buried,
and forgotten in. Perhaps he was dead! Yes, there came the white-robed
torch-bearing priests who were to bury him. How perplexed they would
be if he should hide his body so that the ceremony could not proceed.
Of course he would give himself up after a while. Smiling to himself
at the thought of this trick, Huetzin rolled still farther under the
stone table, until he was completely hidden by its drapery. He lay very
still, and must have fallen into a doze. At least he was not conscious
of what was taking place about him until he was suddenly aroused by the
word "Malinche."
Malinche was the native name for Cortes, and some one was saying,
"Malinche must then be slain as he visits the king on the morrow. It is
so decided. After his death the destruction of his army will be an easy
matter, and Huitzil's altars shall not want for victims. As for the
vile Tlascalans, they will serve to feed the altars of the lesser gods
for many days of rejoicing."
No longer was Huetzin dozing, nor were his thoughts vague and
uncertain. He was, of a sudden, as wide awake as ever in his life, and
as clear-headed. Hunger, thirst, terror, and pain were all forgotten.
He was listening to the details of a plot for the destruction of his
friends and followers, and for the establishment on a firmer basis than
ever of the cruel Aztec religion and its blood-stained priesthood. He
dared not move, nor even to peep from behind his sheltering curtain to
discover who these conspirators were. He hardly dared to breathe, and
wished he could silence the beatings of his heart that seemed to him
distinct above all other sounds.
From a faint glow that came through the tapestry he knew that the
chamber was lighted by torches, and from the sound of footsteps on
the stone floor he judged that a number of persons were implicated in
the conspiracy. At length the glow began to fade and the footsteps to
retreat. The meeting had broken up and its members were departing.
Venturing to peer out Huetzin saw the last torch on the point of
vanishing in the distant blackness, and springing to his feet he ran
noiselessly after it.
He was thus guided along a narrow passage similar to those in which he
had wandered so miserably, and around several corners. All at once he
saw a torch coming directly toward him. A priest had been sent back
for some mislaid article. The young Toltec crouched close beside the
wall. The priest did not discover him until he was within a few paces
of the crouching figure. Then, as he peered uncertainly at it, Huetzin
launched himself forward with a spring like that of an ocelot. In an
instant the priest was borne to the ground, while the torch, flung
far from him, flickered and expired. He attempted to cry out, but a
fierce clutch at his throat changed his cry into a choked gurgle.
His struggles were futile in the iron grasp of this monster of the
darkness, and within a minute he was bound hand, foot, and mouth with
strips torn from his own robes.
Leaving him thus, Huetzin sped noiselessly and swiftly away in the
direction taken by the others. He was so fortunate as to again see
their lights as the last one was passing through a doorway leading
to a flight of steps. He heard a voice say, "Let it remain open for
Amatli," and was content to wait until all had ascended the stairway
and disappeared.
Then the young Toltec crept cautiously up the stone steps, which were
disclosed by a subdued but blessed daylight. From their top he could
see a door opening on to a street. Between him and it were two armed
guards engaged in earnest conversation. Their backs were turned to him,
and stealing breathlessly to where they stood, he bounded past them to
the doorway. They were after him in an instant, with loud cries, but
he had already gained the street. He knew not where he was, and ran
blindly, though with the fleetness of a deer, while an ever-increasing
mob of soldiers, priests, and citizens followed in hot pursuit. Had he
not caught sight of the great temple he must have fallen an easy prey
to this army of pursuers. Even with the hope inspired by this familiar
landmark his strength would have failed to take him to the shelter
of the Spanish wall, had it not been for the opportune appearance of
Sandoval with his flashing sword and gallant war-cry.
Once inside the gate, and realizing that he was again safe from his
fierce pursuers, the unnatural strength that had sustained him so long
gave way, and Huetzin staggered as though about to fall. Numbers of
Spaniards and Tlascalans sprang to his assistance, but Sandoval was the
first to reach him, and lifting the youth in his mighty arms as though
he had been an infant, he bore him to his own quarters. Here, under the
rough but skilful ministrations of the young soldier, Huetzin revived
sufficiently to beg for water and food, neither of which he had tasted
for many hours. These being brought, he ate and drank until, fearful
that he would do himself harm, Sandoval took them from him.
Greatly refreshed and strengthened, Huetzin now asked for Marina, and
when the girl appeared, full of wondering pity at the evidences he
bore of his recent experiences, he requested her to obtain for him
an instant interview with the commander concerning a matter of vital
import. Cortes had just learned of the reappearance in the flesh of one
whom the king had, but an hour before, declared dead, and was coming
to investigate the miraculous resurrection when Marina met him with
Huetzin's request.
The young chieftain had expected to go to the General, and was covered
with confusion when the latter came to where he was, as though he had
sent for him. He would have risen, but the commander insisted that,
by his sufferings, he had won the right to lie still. So, seating
himself beside the pile of mats that formed Sandoval's couch, and on
which Huetzin now lay, Cortes listened with the gravest attention
to an account of all that had happened to the young warrior since
the preceding evening. When the latter came to a description of the
underground meeting of conspirators, the leader's face grew very stern,
and at the conclusion of the recital he exclaimed:
"Thou hast done well, my young lord of Titcala, and even thy recent
sufferings are amply rewarded by the news obtained through them. Thus
forewarned I am of the opinion that we shall find some means for
checkmating these burrowing water-rats. How say you, Don Gonzalo?"
"If not, then shall we well deserve the fate they plot for us,"
answered Sandoval, to whom this question was addressed.
"Art sure that thou hast a heart still beating in thy breast?" suddenly
demanded the General of Huetzin. "I was told, not long since, that a
god had torn it from thy bosom, also that a fair lady of the king's
court was expressing anxiety concerning thee."
"My heart is still in my own keeping, in spite of gods and fair
ladies," replied Huetzin, though with Marina's blush reflected on his
own face; "neither do I know any lady of Montezuma's court, unless
indeed it be my sister Tiata, who is but a child, and is, I fear, no
longer to be found in any earthly court or city."