“Dios!” replied Dolores, tapping her mouth with her closed fan; “I hardly remember! I was asking T’ho where lay the poor Señor Americano, when a cloth was flung over my head, and I was borne swiftly away. With the shock, I suppose I must have fainted, for on recovering my senses I found myself in an open boat going up the coast. I tried to cry out, but was so weak that I could make no sound. Only Indians were in the boat, and one of them held a cup of wine to my lips. It was, I think, drugged, as I then lost all consciousness, and awoke to find myself in Totatzine!”
“And all this was planned by Don Hypolito?”
“Yes, and executed by Ixtlilxochitli. I have been kindly treated since I have been here, and have a house yonder, across the square, all to myself, with attendants. The high priest told me I had been carried off so that no harm might happen to me, as guardian of the opal, during the war. He also informed me that it was the desire of the god that I should wed with Don Hypolito.”
“Confound his impudence,” muttered Jack, in his native tongue. “And what did you reply, Dolores?”
“I said I would never wed with the traitor Xuarez; that my heart was given to another, to Don Juan, the Americano. Ixtlilxochitli was terribly angry when he heard this, and swore that never would the guardian of the opal be permitted to wed a white man. ‘But I have no fear,’ said this base one, ‘for Don Hypolito, the true worshipper of the sacred opal, will aid us to secure this evil Americano, and sacrifice him to the gods.’”
“And Don Hypolito succeeded,” said Jack, with a shudder. “The wretch! he had made up his mind to seize me from the moment I set foot in Acauhtzin. Oh, if I can only escape, how dearly will I make him pay for all this treachery.”
At this moment Cocom darted in at the door.
“Señor, the priest, Ixtlilxochitli, is climbing the steps. Hide yourself, lady. You must not be seen with my lord.”
“Why not?” asked Jack, as they arose to their feet.
“Can you ask, after what I have told you?” whispered Dolores, hurriedly. “The priest knows I love you, and if we were seen together you would be detained in prison until the day of the sacrifice. Not even your character of a god could save you from that. Cocom contrived our meeting here, and the priests suspect nothing. Trust to Cocom! He will tell you our plans of escape. Adios! I must hide!”
“When will I see you again, angelito?” said Jack, kissing her hurriedly.
“To-morrow night, in the secret way. Adios!”
She ran rapidly towards the shrine, and vanished behind the image of the war-god, while Jack followed Cocom out on to the vast platform of the pyramid. Midway on the steps they saw the old high priest, painfully climbing upward.
“Will he not find Doña Dolores in there, Cocom, and thus guess we have met?”
“No, Señor. He but comes to see that the sacred fire burns. That the opal yet spins before the god. If the fire should go out, or the opal stand still, great calamities would befall the city. Only does the opal pause when it prophesies.”
“How is it managed?”
“Santissima! Señor, I know not. But come, let us go down. Ixtlilxochitli will just look at the fire, and then descend, after which the Doña Dolores can come down and regain her palace without being seen.”
“Is the shrine thus frequently left alone?”
“Yes, Señor. Save at festivals, it is deserted. But a priest climbs to the temple every five hours, to see that the sacred fire burns. But see, Ixtlilxochitli is near us. Be cautious, my lord.”
When Jack paused on his downward way, the priest coming up at once knelt on the steps to show his reverence.
“Tell the old fool to get up,” said Jack, angrily, being weary of such mummery.
“My lord bids you rise, Ixtlilxochitli!” translated Cocom, more politely.
The priest arose, with his hands folded across his breast, and, with downcast eyes, addressed Cocom.
“Has my lord seen the holy shrine, and the thrice sacred Chalchuih Tlatonac?”
“Yes; my lord has been graciously pleased to look at these things.”
“It is well! My lord should know well the sacred shrine, so that on the great day he be prepared to act his part, as saviour of the city, with dignity.”
“Deuce take your dignity!” cried Jack, in a rage when this polite speech was translated. “I say Cocom, cannot we knock this old reprobate down the steps; he wouldn’t get up again in a hurry.”
“Nay, nay, Señor! such a course would not be wise,” replied Cocom, hastily thinking that Jack was about to carry his threat into execution.
“What says my lord?” asked Ixtlilxochitli blandly.
“That he will not keep you longer from the sacred offices of the god.”
“It is well! See that my lord has all things, Cocom. The city is his, and we are his, for on his sacrifice to the holy gods does the existence of Totatzine depend.”
Cocom did not deem it politic to translate this speech to Jack, fearing lest the young man should thereupon carry out his threat, and kick the old priest down the steps. Already he was so exasperated at being perpetually reminded of his awful position, that it would take but little more to make him kill this bland, servile priest—to punish at least one of his enemies before he was slain himself. Many men would have been paralysed by the thought of the sacrificial stone, but peril only the more firmly braced Jack’s nerves, and relying, as he did, on Cocom’s help, and his own energy, he was determined to escape from Totatzine in some way or another. The meeting with Dolores had inspired him with fresh energies; and, after leaving Ixtlilxochitli climbing the steps, he hurried Cocom to the palace where he was living, with the idea of hearing what plan of escape the Indian had conceived.
Now that Duval had seen Dolores, the reserve hitherto maintained by Cocom entirely vanished, and he professed himself eager to explain his designs. With instinctive caution, however, he refused to converse in the lower room, where Jack habitually slept fearing lest they should be overheard. It is true they constantly spoke the Spanish tongue, of which the priestly spies were woefully ignorant; but Ixtlilxochitli was quite crafty enough to employ a coast Indian as an eavesdropper; therefore it was wise to put any such possibility of betrayal beyond all doubt. With this intent, they ascended to the flat roof of the palace; but, even here, Cocom felt doubtful of being absolutely safe. In the end, they climbed the mirador, the sole tower of the palace, where it was quite impossible that they could be either seen or heard from below. Crouching on his hunkers below the low wall of the tower platform, Cocom gravely took out some cigarettes, wrapped in maize-husks, and presented them to Jack, who was lying full-length against the opposite parapet. In a few minutes they were smoking, and talking earnestly.
“The priests, Señor,” said Cocom, wrapping his zarape round his thin shoulders, “the priests say that the entrance to the secret way is in the shrine itself on the summit of yonder teocalli. That is a lie!”
“Then where is it, Cocom?”
“Three bridges are there over the stream, Don Juan. The largest and oldest bridge is that central one, which leads straight to the square of the sacrifice. Señor, below that bridge is the secret way!”
“How do you know, Cocom? Were you not blindfolded when you were brought here?”
“Yes, Señor; but I smelt water. The priests blind the eyes, and close the ears, so that the way be not seen, nor the voice of the torrent heard; but I, Señor, have come by the hidden way many times. It is there. I examined it secretly one night at the peril of my life.”
“And you found out you were correct?” said Jack, anxiously.
“Absolutely,