SPRINGING forward, but too late to save him, the señor and I lifted Zibalbay from the ground and laid him on a couch. Peeping over our shoulders, Maya caught sight of his ghastly face and the foam upon his lips.
“Oh, he is dead,” she moaned; “my father is dead, and he died cursing me.”
“No,” said the señor, “he is not dead, for his heart stirs. Bring water, Maya.”
She obeyed, and for hard upon two hours we struggled to restore his sense, but in vain; life lingered indeed, but we could not stir him from his stupor. At length, as we were resting, wearied with our fruitless labour, the gates opened and Tikal came again.
“What now?” he asked, seeing the form of Zibalbay stretched upon the couch. “Does the old man sleep?”
“Yes, he sleeps,” answered the señor, “and I think that he will wake no more. The words he spoke to you to-day are coming true, and that which you took from him by force will soon be yours by right.”
“No,” answered Tikal, “by right it will be the Lady Maya’s yonder, though by force it may remain mine, unless, indeed, she gives it to me of her own free will. But say, how did this come about?”
Now I broke in hastily, fearing lest the señor should tell too much, and thus bring some swift and awful fate upon himself.
“He was worn out with the fatigue of our journey and the excitement of yesterday. After you had left he began to talk of your proposals, and suddenly was taken with this fit. These matters are not for me to speak of, who am but a prisoner in a strange land; still, lord, it will not look well if he who once was cacique of this city dies here and unattended, for then people may say that you have murdered him. Have you no doctors who can be summoned to minister to him, for, without drugs, or even a bleeding-knife, we have done all we can do.”
“Murdered him! That they will say in any case. Yes, there are doctors here, and the best and greatest of them is Mattai, my father-in-law. I will send him. But, Maya, before I go, have you no word for me?”
Maya, who was seated by the table, her face buried in her hands, looked up and said:
“Is your heart stone that you can trouble me in such an hour? When my father is recovered, or dead, I will answer you, and not before.”
“So be it, Lady,” he said, “till then I will wait. And now I must get hence, for there may be trouble in the city when this news reaches it.”
A while passed, and Mattai appeared before us, followed by one who carried his scales and medicines. Without speaking, he came to where Zibalbay lay, and examined him by the light of a lamp. Then he poured medicine down his throat, and waited as though he expected to see him rise, but he neither rose nor stirred.
“A bad case,” he said. “I fear that he will awake no more. How came he thus?”
“Do you wish to know?” asked Maya, speaking for the first time. “Then bid your attendant stand back, and I will tell you. My father yonder was smitten down while he cursed me in his rage.”
“And why did he curse you, Lady?”
“For this reason: While we wandered in the wilderness, Tikal, my cousin and my betrothed, took a wife, your daughter Nahua, who was crowned with him as Lady of the Heart. But it seems, Mattai, that though he gave your daughter place and power, he gave her no love, for to-day this son-in-law of yours came to my father, and in the presence of us all offered to set him in his lawful place again and to suffer him to carry out his schemes, whatever they might be, if I would but consent to become his wife.”
“To become his wife!” said Mattai, in amazement. “How could you become his wife when he is married? Can there then be two Ladies of the Heart?”
“No,” answered Maya quietly, “but the proposal of Tikal, my cousin, is, that he should either put away or kill your daughter—and you with her, Mattai—in order that he may set me in her place.”
Now when Mattai heard this his quick eyes flashed, and his very beard seemed to bristle with rage.
“He proposed that! He dared to propose that!” he gasped. “Oh! let him have a care. I set him up, and perchance I can pull him down again. Continue, Lady.”
“He proposed it, and my father agreed to the offer, for, knowing that you have plotted against him, he had little care for the honour and safety of you or of your house, Mattai. But if my father accepted, I refused, seeing that it is not my wish to have more to do with Tikal. Then my father cursed me, and while he cursed was stricken down.”
“You say it is not your wish to marry Tikal, Lady. Is it, then, your wish to marry any other man?”
“Yes,” she answered, letting her eyes fall, “I love this white lord here, whom you name Son of the Sea, and I would become his wife. I would become his wife,” she went on after a pause, “but, Mattai, Tikal is very strong, and it may be, unless I can find help elsewhere, that in order to save the life of the man I love, of his friend and mine, Ignatio, and my own, I shall be forced into the arms of Tikal. But now Tikal has asked me for my answer, and I have told him that I will give it when my father is recovered or dead. Perhaps it will be for you to say what that answer shall be, for alone and in prison I am not strong enough to stand against Tikal. Say, now, do the people love me well enough to depose Tikal and set me in my father’s place, should he die?”
“I cannot say, Lady,” he answered shortly, “but at the least you will scarcely ask me thus to bring about my own and my daughter’s ruin. I will be open with you. I gained over the Council of the Heart to Tikal’s cause, and my price was that he should marry my daughter, thereby satisfying her love and my ambition. Yes, I have plotted to set Nahua on high, both for her sake and for my own, seeing that after the cacique I sought to be the chief man in the city. Can I, then, turn round and depose him, and my daughter and myself with him? And if I did, what would be my fate at your hands in the days to come? No, I seek to be revenged on Tikal, indeed, who has offered so deadly an affront to me and mine, but it must be in some other way than this. Tell me now, lady, what is it that you desire most,—to be the cacique of this city by your right of birth, or to marry the man you love?”
“I desire to marry the man I love,” she answered, “and to escape from this place with him back to those lands where white men live. I desire also that my friend and my lord’s friend, Ignatio, should be given as much gold as he needs to enable him to carry out his purposes in the coast country yonder. If things can be brought about thus, Tikal and Nahua and their descendants, for aught I care, may rule in the City of the Heart till the world’s end.”
“You ask little enough, Lady,” said Mattai, “and it shall go hard if I cannot get it for you. Now I will leave you, for I must have time to think; but, if Tikal returns, say him neither yea nor nay till we have spoken again. And as for you, strangers, remember that your lives depend upon your caution. Farewell.”
Two more days passed, or so we reckoned by the number of meals that were brought to us, but neither Tikal nor Mattai returned to visit us. Other doctors came, indeed, and saw Zibalbay, who lay upon his bed like one plunged in a deep sleep, but though they tried many remedies they were of no avail. On the night of the second day we were gathered round his couch, watching him and talking together sadly enough, for the solitude, and the darkness, and the fear of impending death had broken our spirits, so that even the señor ceased to be merry, and the presence of her beloved to give comfort to Maya.
“Alas!” she said, “it was an evil day when we met yonder in the land of Yucatan, and, friend, no gift could have been more unlucky than that of my love to you, for which, being worth so little, you are doomed to pay so dear. Fortune has gone hardly with you also, Ignatio, who are fated thus for the second time to see a woman wreck your hopes. Say, now, friend,”—and she caught the señor by the arm,—“would it not be best that we should make an end of all this folly, and that I should give myself to Tikal? Then I could bargain for you both that before I pass to him I should, with my own eyes, see you safe across the mountains, taking that with you which would make you rich for life. Nor need you trouble for me, or think that you left me to dishonour, for, so soon as you were gone, I should seek the arms of another lord whose name is Death, and there take my rest, till in some day unborn you came to join me.”
“Cease to talk thus, Maya,” said the señor, drawing her to his breast; “whatever there is to bear we will undergo together, since, even if I could be so base as to buy safety at such a price, without you my life would be worth nothing to me, and, indeed, I had rather die at your side than live on alone. It is my fault that ever we came to this pass, seeing that, if I had taken your counsel, we should not have set foot within the City of the Heart. But curiosity conquered me, for I longed to see the place, as now I long to see the last of it; also, had we turned back, I must have left Ignatio to go on alone. Keep your courage, sweetheart, for though your father is dying and our danger is great, I am sure that we shall escape from these dungeons and be happy with each other beneath the sunlight.”
Then he kissed her upon the lips and comforted her, wiping away the tears that ran from her blue eyes.
It was at this moment that I looked up and saw Mattai standing in the doorway,—for we were gathered, not in the hall, but in Zibalbay’s chamber,—watching the scene curiously and with a softened face.
“Greeting,” he said, “and forgive me that I come so late, but my business is secret and such as is best done at night. How goes it with Zibalbay?”
“He lives,” I answered; “I can say no more, for he is senseless, and, without doubt, soon must die. But come, see for yourself.”
Mattai walked to the bed and examined the old man, lifting the eyelids and feeling his heart.
“He cannot live long,” he said. “Well, death is his best friend. Now to my business. There is trouble in the city, and strange rumours pass from mouth to mouth among the people, many of whom declare that Tikal has murdered Zibalbay, and demand that you, Lady, should be brought before them, that you may be named cacique in his place. Things being so, it has been urged upon Tikal by the chiefs of his party that as, do what he will, he can never clear himself of the death of Zibalbay, it would be well that he should make away with you also, Lady, and, of course, with these two strangers, your friends, seeing that then there will be none to dispute his rights. The matter was laid before him strongly at a secret council held this afternoon, and once he issued the order for your deaths, only to recall it before the messenger left the palace; for at the last I saw that his heart overcame his reason, and he could not bear thus to divorce himself from you, Lady, though what he said was that he would not stain his hands with the blood of one so innocent and fair. Still, I will not hide from you, Lady, or from you, strangers, that your danger is very great that you go, indeed, in jeopardy of your life from one hour to the next.”
Now he paused, and Maya asked in a low voice:
“Have you no plan to save us, Mattai?”
“Why should I have a plan, Lady, who with my house would benefit so greatly by your death?”
“I do not know why you should have a plan, old man,” broke in the señor; “but I tell you that you will do well to make one, else you do not leave this place alive,”—and as he spoke, with a sudden movement, he sprang between Mattai and the door.
“If we are to be murdered like birds in a cage,” he went on, “at least your neck shall be twisted first. Do you understand?”
“I understand, Son of the Sea,” answered Mattai, flinching a little before the señor’s fierce face and hand outstretched as though to grip him. “But I would have you understand something also; namely, that if I do not return presently, there are some without who will come to seek me, and then——”
“And then they will find your carcase,” broke in the señor, “and what will all your plots and schemes advantage you when you are a lump of senseless clay?”
“Little indeed, I confess,” he answered. “Still, my daughter, whom I love better than myself, will reap some profit, and with that, in this sad case, I must be content. But, do not be so hasty, white man. I asked why I should have a plan? I did not say that I had none.”
“Then if you have one, let us hear it without more ado,” said the señor.
Mattai bowed, as he answered:
“Your will is mine: but I know not how my plan will please the Lady Maya yonder, and therefore, before I unfold it, I will make it clear to you that there is but one alternative,—the death of all of you by to-morrow’s light. Your lives lie in my hand, and if I must do so to save my daughter and myself, I shall not hesitate to take them.”
“Any more than I shall hesitate to take yours, old man,” said the señor, grimly; “for remember always that if you do not make your plan such as we can accept, you will leave this chamber feet first with a broken neck.”
Again Mattai bowed, and continued:
“In one way only has Tikal been able to pacify the tumult among the people, by declaring that the Lady Maya shall be produced before the Council of the Heart, in the Sanctuary of the Nameless god, upon the night of the Rising of Waters, being the first day when it is lawful for the Council to sit in the Sanctuary, and afterwards at dawn in the eyes of the whole city. The words of Zibalbay have taken a strange hold of the people, although they cried him down as he spoke them; and they desire to know what will happen when the prophecy is fulfilled, and once more the severed halves of the symbol of the Heart are laid side by side in their place upon the altar. Zibalbay told them that he believed that then the god would reveal his purpose, and show what part each of you should play in the fate that is to be, and therefore the people—aye! and many among the nobles, and even the Council of the Heart—look to see some sign or wonder when Day and Night are come together, and that which was parted is made one, for they begin to hold that the madness of Zibalbay is from heaven, and that the voice of heaven sent him on his journey.”
Now Mattai thought for a while and went on:
“Lady, I am old, and for many years I have followed the worship of the gods, doing sacrifice to them, and importuning them with prayers, yet never have I known the gods to make answer to their votaries, or heard the voices of the immortals speaking into human ears. It seems that gods are many: thus, perchance these strangers have their own; and, Lady, thus it comes that in my age I ask myself if there are any gods other than those that the mind of man has shaped from nothingness, or fashioned in the likeness of its own passions. I cannot tell, but I think that were I in so sore a strait as you find yourselves to-night, I should not hesitate to give a voice to these dumb gods.”
“What is your meaning?” asked Maya.
“This: When the severed halves of the Heart are set in their place upon the altar, if there be any gods they should give a sign. Thus, as I who am the keeper of the Sanctuary know, the ancient symbol on the altar is hollow, and if it were to chance to open, it might be that a writing would be found within it,—an ancient writing of the gods, prepared against the present time,—that shall be to us as a lantern to one wandering in the dark; or it might be that nothing would be found. Now, as it happens, in searching through the earliest records of the temple, I have discovered a certain writing, and it seems to me that your fortune would be great if this writing should lie within the symbol on the night of the Rising of Waters. Here it is——”
And from his robe he produced a small plate of dull gold, covered over with hieroglyphics.
“Read it,” said Maya.
Then Mattai read:
“This is the voice of the Nameless god that his prophet heard in the year of the building of the Sanctuary, and graved upon a tablet of gold which he set in a secret place in the symbol of the Sanctuary, to be declared in that far-off hour when the lost is found and the signs of the Day and the Night are come together. To thee it speaks, unborn daughter of a chief to be, whose name is the name of a nation. When my people have grown old and their numbers are lessened, and their heart is faint, then, maiden, take to thyself as a husband a man of the race of the white god, a son of the sea-foam, whom thou shalt lead hither across the desert, for so my people shall once more prosper and grow strong, and the land shall be to thy child and the child of the god, east and west, and north and south, further than my eagles wing between sunrise and set.”
He finished reading, and there was silence as we looked on each other, amazed at the boldness and the cunning of this old priest and plotter. It was Maya who spoke first.
“You have forged this writing, Mattai,” she said coldly, “and now you desire that I should set it in the symbol, for you are mindful of that curse which is written in the ritual Opening of the Heart against him who shall profane its mysteries and token, or who should dare to tell a lie within the Sanctuary, or to swear falsely by the symbol. In short, if you do not fear the vengeance of the god, you fear the vengeance of the Order.”
“To speak truth, lady, I fear both, for, in offering insult to the Nameless god, who knows what he offends? Still, you must make your choice—and swiftly, seeing that if you refuse the deed, by to-morrow you will have learned, or, perhaps—remembering the words of the white lord—I should say we shall have learned what virtue there is in the religions.”
Now she turned to us, saying:
“Advise me, friends, for I know not what to answer. In the faith of my people I have lost faith, and it is to yours that I look for comfort; and yet the deed seems awful, for if we are not worshippers of the Nameless god, still we are all of us brethren of the ancient mysteries of the Heart, and to do this thing would be to break our solemn oaths. Come, let us put it to the vote, and do you who are the oldest and the wisest among us, vote first, Ignatio.”
“So be it,” I answered. “For my part I give my voice against the trick. Of the gods of your people I know nothing and think less, but I am the Master of our Order in my own land, and I will not offend against it. To do this thing would be to act the greatest of lies, and a lie is a sin in the face of heaven. All men must die, but I wish to pass to doom with my hands unstained by fraud. Still, in this matter your lives are at stake as well as mine; therefore, if, of the three of us, two are in favour of the act, I will be bound by their decision. But if only one is in favour, then he must be bound by ours.”
“Good, let it be so,” said Maya. “And now, beloved, speak and tell us whether you choose death and a clean conscience, or life and my love to gladden it,”—and she looked into his face with her beautiful eyes, and half stretched out her arms as though she would clasp him to her breast.
Now, although the señor did not answer at once, when I saw this and heard her words, I, Ignatio, knew that it was finished, since it could not be in the heart of a man in love to resist her pleadings and her witcheries. Presently he spoke, and as he did so his face grew red with a half shame.
“I have no choice,” he said. “I do not fear to die if need be, but I should be no man were I to choose death while it is your wish that I should live. Like Ignatio, I say that the gods of this city are to me nothing more than idols, and to deceive that which does not exist is impossible. For the rest, I became a Brother of the Heart not by my own wish, but by accident, therefore on this point my conscience pricks me little. Only, to be a partner in this plot, I must speak or act a lie, and this I have never done before. Still it seems to me that a man may choose life and his love in place of a cruel and secret death, and keep his hands clean, even though he must play a harmless trick as the price of them. Yet, Maya, in this as in every other matter, I will do your wish, and if you think it better that we should die, why let us die and make an end.”
“Nay,” she answered, with a flash of reckless passion, “I think it better that we should live, far from this unlucky city, and there be happy in each other’s love. For your sake my father’s curse has fallen on me, and after it all other maledictions of gods or men will be light as feathers. If this be a sin that we are about to work, I do it for the sake of you and of our love; also because I would live awhile in happiness before I go down to the grave. See my father lying there; throughout a long life he has served his god, and behold how his god has served him in the hour of his trouble. Let his prayers answer for us both, for I will have none of such false gods, unless it be to use them for my ends. If this be a sin that we are about to do, and vengeance should tread upon the heels of sin, let it fall upon the heads of my people, who would murder me for no crime; upon the head of Mattai, who tempted me for his own advantage; and, if that be not enough, upon my head also. Little do I care for vengeance to come, if for only one short year I may call you husband.”
“Ill-omened words,” muttered Mattai, shivering a little, “words that only a woman would utter; but so be it.”
As he spoke I thought that I heard a faint groan break from the man upon the couch. I glanced anxiously at Zibalbay, to find that I must have been mistaken, or, at least, that it had not proceeded from his lips, for he lay there rigid and senseless as a corpse.
“The vote is taken,” I said sadly. “What next, Mattai?”
“Follow me,” he answered, “and I will show you a secret path from this chamber to the Sanctuary beneath. Nay, you need not fear to leave him, for if his life still burns within him, it is fast asleep. But stay, where is the talisman? That will be necessary to us.”
“I have one half,” I answered, “the other is about Zibalbay’s neck.”
“Find it,” he said, sternly, to the Lady Maya. “Nay, you must!”