“Is my lord better in health?” asked the priest.
“Tell him I am; but I don’t care about being preserved for sacrifice.”
“Speak not so, Don Juan,” said Cocom, in Spanish, with a look of alarm; “you are not supposed to know anything of that. I told you on the peril of my life.”
“Then tell him whatever lies you please!” said Duval, viciously, and, rolling over, turned his back on the priest.
“A bad sign!” murmured the priest, looking anxiously at Cocom. “Is my lord angered?”
“Nay,” replied Cocom, in the Indian tongue; “my lord is much improved in health, oh, Ixtlilxochitl; but as with all who are ill at ease, he is fretful and wanting in courtesy.”
“It is true,” replied Ixtlilxochitl, reverently. “The sick are ever foolish. See that thou make him strong, Cocom, for the gods accept naught but blooming health.”
“Oh, my sacred lord; he will be cured in two days from now. Cocom knows of magic herbs whereby the favourite of Huitzilopochtli can be made whole. Let Ixtlilxochitl be content, my lord will be pure and strong for the sacrifice.”
“It is well,” said the priest, rising from his knees. “I will leave my lord to his sleep; but will he not vouchsafe one glance at his servant?”
Instructed by Cocom, Jack was forced to turn round and smile at the priest, who knelt down to receive this mark of favour. Then he adored Jack with more incense and flowers, after which he withdrew with reverent genuflections.
“The old fiend!” muttered Jack, when the drapery had again veiled the door. “I should like to have sent a boot at his head.”
“Hush, my lord Juan.”
“Carrai! why should I? That devil-monkey does not understand Spanish.”
“No, Señor. Still, it is wiser to risk nothing.”
“You are quite right, Cocom. I place myself entirely in your hands. Save me, and I promise you I shall not forget you.”
“Cocom will save you, for the sake of Don Miguel,” said the old man, proudly; “and for the sake of the lady Dolores.”
“Dolores!” repeated Jack, eagerly. “Do you know where she is?”
“I know nothing at present,” replied Cocom, with a meaning glance. “Possess your soul in patience, Don Juan; all will yet be well. Don Hypolito desires to kill you, and wed Doña Dolores. He shall do neither. Santissima Virgen, I swear it. Be silent! No words, my lord. Rest now, and sleep. You will need all your strength.”
“For the sacrifice?”
“Nay, Señor, for escape!”
Chapter VI.
The Shrine of the Opal
Lord of the humming-bird’s foot!
Behold thy worshippers rising and falling in adoration before thee, as rise and fall the restless waves of the far-reaching ocean.
These thousands gathered from the ends of the earth, are thine, and thine only.
We see thine image bedecked with jewels, shine like the sun at his rising
Before thee, the stone, whereon the favoured one yields up his life for thy glory.
Smoking hearts dost thou love, the savour of blood, the carnage of battle.
For thou art god of war, death alone is the way to thy favour.
Spins before thee that precious stone by which thou tellest thy wishes,
That shining, precious stone, which now burns red as the blood of thine altars,
Crimson it gleams, hinting war! War is the fate of the future!
Oh, mighty one! Lord of the humming-bird’s foot! We pray thee give order,
That the red war light melt soon to the azure of peace,
Then will fresh victims be thine, and happiness ours,
Shout, ye people! ask peace from the lord of the humming-bird’s foot.
In two days, Jack was comparatively well, and able to move about without much trouble. This almost miraculous cure was effected by Cocom through the medium of some medicinal herbs, the curative powers of which were known to him alone. Out of these he made two decoctions, one for internal, the other for external application. With the latter he bathed the wound on Jack’s head, and made him drink quantities of the former every two hours. The effect was wonderfully rapid, and Jack soon found himself gaining strength. In the hands of a European doctor, he would probably have been laid up for weeks; but the rude medicine of the Indian set him on his legs in no time. The wound on his head gave him no trouble, and healed with great quickness; a fact which Jack put down as much to his healthy blood, and simple living, as to Cocom’s physicing.
With renewed health and strength came a stronger desire to escape from the horrible fate which waited him in a few weeks. When he went out, however, and explored the strange city, in the centre of which stood the shrine of the opal, Jack saw plainly that it would be madness to attempt flight without the assistance of Cocom. The Indians apparently knew this, for, treated by them more as a guest than a prisoner, he was permitted to wander freely round the neighbourhood. Still, did he venture too far in the direction of the belt of timber surrounding the city, he was always followed by two or more native guards; these, when he once more returned to the city, quietly left him. From this espionage he plainly saw that his roaming was restricted, but not in such a measure as to cause him any unpleasant feeling.
As regards the behaviour of the Indians, Jack had nothing to complain of. Indeed, they could scarcely have been more deferential. Regarded as a kind of deity, his appearance was the signal for the most slavish adulation. The Indians, of whom there were a goodly number in the vicinity, threw themselves on their faces before him, as he walked abroad, attended by Cocom. If he seated himself, they strewed flowers at his feet, and swung censers, fragrant with copal, until he was almost hidden by white wreaths of perfumed smoke. This popularity was not unpleasant; but, as Jack knew it was but a prelude to the sacrificial stone, he was anything but gratified at thus being continually reminded of the dangerous position in which he stood.
On recovering his health, Jack found Cocom much more reticent than when he was acting as doctor. Several times had he been on the point of making some important communication, but always stopped short and refused to speak further. Jack supposed this caution was on account of the priests, who, despite the deference of their demeanour, kept a close watch on his actions, and on those of Cocom. The high priest, Ixtlilxochitl, was a mild-looking old man, who treated Jack in a most courteous manner, and frequently expressed his pleasure that the white lord had so soon recovered his health. Such inquiries would have been much more acceptable had not the recipient known that they were but the outcome of Ixtlilxochitl’s desire that he should be in good condition for the sacrifice. It was no pleasant thing for Duval to know that these courtesies came from an old gentleman who was anxiously looking forward to taking his life.
Under these circumstances, Jack did not wonder that Cocom was cautious, and though for the moment the attitude of the old Indian appeared anything but friendly, Jack quite relied on him to aid his escape. He was anxious to escape from this buried city, where he was threatened with so terrible a fate; he was longing to return to Tlatonac for the purpose of reassuring his friends, who he knew would be terribly put out by his disappearance at Acauhtzin; and, above all, he was anxious to be free so as to search for Dolores.
In Jack’s opinion she was at Acauhtzin, as a man so vile as Don