Thousands of infuriated and exulting savages had, in the meanwhile,
landed from their canoes at the second ditch, raised their cries of
triumph over the abandoned artillery, and struck, with a rage not to be
appeased by death, the Christian corses which lay so thick among them.
But, while living invaders remained, either in the front or rear, they
tarried not long, to waste their malice on the dead.
The cavalier Don Amador, when he made the marvellous discovery, detailed
in a preceding chapter, and perceived that the fair and lamented being
of his dreams, heaven had permitted so long to walk by his side, in this
new and strange world,--revealing her to his eyes only at the moment
when destined to be snatched from them for ever,--felt, at that instant
of discovery as if all the ties which bound him to existence, were at
once dissevered. Rage at his blindness, furious compunctions of remorse
for his negligence, and an agony of grief at the supposed dreadful fate
of the maiden, were mingled with a sort of wild indignation against the
providence which, by veiling his eyes, and shutting his ears to the
suggestions of his heart, (for, surely, from the moment he looked upon
the page, his affections were given him,) had robbed him of his
mistress. It was not, therefore, wonderful, that such a conflict of
mind, acting upon a body weakened by previous wounds and sickness, and
exhausted by present exertions, should have thrown him across the body
of Lazaro, himself, to all appearance, full as lifeless. And thus he
lay, for half an hour, insensible to the battle, which was now drawing
nigh to the ditch, and now leaving it to its charnel solitude.
He was recalled to life, by feeling some one tug forcibly at the sacred
jewel, which he retained throughout his lethargy, with the same instinct
which had preserved it in the death-grasp of the henchman. More lucky
than Lazaro, yet scarce more happy, this violence woke up the sleeping
energies of life; and he raised his head, though only to stare about him
with a bewildered look of unconsciousness.
"God be thanked!" exclaimed a Christian voice in his ear, as a friendly
hand seized him by the shoulder; "lead or gold, glass or precious stone,
never was cross of Christ picked up on the wayside, but good fortune
followed after it! What ho, senor! up and away! The things that I spoke
of, have come to pass. Kalidon-Sadabath dances in the Crystal; he loves
the smell of blood!--Up! arise and away, for thine hour is not come."
The cavalier arose, and stared at the friendly magician; which Botello
seeing, and supposing he was now fully restored to his wits, this
lunatic of another sort seized him by the arm, and, dragging him towards
the water, said,--
"Fear not; if thou hast not the skill of a crocodile, know that I can
bear thee across the channel; and that the more easily that it is
already choked with corses, and no Mexicans nigh to oppose us."
The neophyte broke from his companion, and with wild cries of _Leila!
Leila!_ ran towards the cannon.
"God save thee! art thou mad? Dost thou call upon woman or devil? This
is no place for girls; and never heard I of imp called Leila."
"Thou knowest not my wretchedness, Botello," said Don Amador. "Let me
look again, if her body be not here.--Hah!" he cried, struck with a
sudden thought, and turning quickly to the conjurer. "Thou art a
magician, and knowest of the dead as well as the living. I have decried
thine art, but now I acknowledge thy wisdom. Behold this rubied
cross--oh heaven! that I should hold it in my hand, and know, that, but
a moment since, it was on the neck of Leila! Look, enchanter; this jewel
came from the neck of a woman, whom but now I left standing on this
brink. Call her from the dead, if she have perished; or show me what
path she hath trodden, if she be living; and I will reward thee, though
I give thee the half of my patrimony.--A woman, I tell thee! Wilt thou
not believe me? Half my estate, but to look upon her!"
It was manifest, even to the unhappy novice himself, that Botello
regarded him as a madman. But nevertheless he replied earnestly, "Here
is no place for conjurations: there be devils enough about us already.
Tarry not here; for this will neither benefit thee, nor her of whom thou
speakest. Spring into the ditch,--rush with me to the main; and, then,
what thou seekest, thou shalt know. Courage, courage! Dost thou not see
yonder star, that creeps up by the dim moon, under the rack, dimmer even
than the dim moon? Under that star, came I into earth: and while it
shineth in that conjunction, the dart of a savage cannot wound me,--no,
not though it strike me upon the naked brow!--Hark! dost thou not hear?
The fragments of the rear-guard are approaching. Let us swim this abyss
before they reach us, lest we be entangled among them. Hesitate not: we
will go together, for I see thou art worn and feeble; and I remember
that thou gavest me succour in the streets of Mexico."
The neophyte had yielded, with a sort of captive-like and despairing
submission, to the will of Botello; and was descending with him moodily
to the water, when suddenly the latter paused, listening to a Christian
shout in the distance, as of one approaching them from the shore.
"Hark! it is repeated!--Viva! They come from the main: they have beaten
the cubs of darkness--Viva! viva! Santiago, and quick, valiant friends!"
The joyous shouts of Botello were re-echoed, though only by a single
voice. Yet this was evidently approaching, and with great rapidity.
During the whole time of the resuscitation of Don Amador, and of his
dialogue with the enchanter, the causeway in the neighbourhood of the
ditch had been free from foes, but only because it was free from
Christians; and the lake in the vicinity was equally solitary. But now
as they stood listening to the shouts, the two companions could perceive
the lake, some distance in front, on both sides of the dike, boiling up
in foam under canoes impelled towards them with extraordinary violence,
seemingly upon the flank of the party from which proceeded the cry. But
whatever was the speed of the canoes, it seemed to be unequal to that of
the Christian; whose shouts wild and loud, and now almost incessantly
repeated, grew shriller and nearer every moment.
"On, valiant friends! on!--heed not the pagans; on!" shouted Botello, as
the canoes cut the water within an hundred paces of the ditch. "Thanks
be to God! I see them! Hah! good! and here--Hark to his voice! how
cheery!--here comes the valorous De Morla!"
As he spoke, the figure of De Morla, outstripping the wind, was seen
running towards the ditch, while some of the arrows shot after him by
the pursuers, and passing him, fell even at the feet of the expectant
pair.
The sight of his friend kindled the ardour of Don Amador. He shouted
aloud,
"On, valiant brother!--It is I! thy sworn friend of Cuenza!"
To this speech, De Morla answered with a yell, that chilled the heart of
his townsman; and running without a moment's hesitation, and without
slackening his speed, to the end of the broken beam, where it overhung
the middle of the sluice, he sprang from it, as if assisted by its
elasticity, to so great a height into the air, that, it was plain, he
would clear the chasm in the bound. As he leaped, he waved his sword,
and uttered a scream; a cloud of arrows at the same time whistled
through the atmosphere; and when he reached the ground, twenty of these
deadly missiles were sticking in his body.
The neophyte raised up his head; one arrow was in his brain:--it snapped
off, as the head rolled on Amador's arm. A thrill and a gasp were the
last and only manifestations of suffering. The next instant, the body of
De Morla rolled down the shelving plane of the ditch, and sunk, with a
few bubbles, among a hundred of his countrymen, already sepulchred
therein.