The White Conquerors: A Tale of Toltec and Aztec

Unobserved, they walked toward the two women, and Sandoval had already lifted his steel bonnet, preparatory to addressing the elder, when the page, pulling at his arm, pointed to the other, thus intimating that it was she who had sent the morning's message. At that moment, startled by the sound of their footsteps, the younger woman turned upon the young soldier a face more gloriously beautiful than any he had ever seen or dreamed of. It was that of a girl just entering womanhood, and was fair almost to whiteness, but with a dash of carmine glowing on cheeks and lips. The little head bore a wealth of hair that was dark brown, instead of jetty black, as was the case with most Aztec maidens. It was poised like that of a princess, but the great brown eyes were fixed upon Sandoval with a startled, pleading expression that, as he afterward said, pierced him like the keenest of Toledo blades.

So taken aback was he by this sudden apparition of youthful beauty, that the steel bonnet, with which he was prepared to make an elaborate bow, slipped from his hand and fell, with a loud clatter to the marble pavement. It would have rolled into the water had not the page captured and returned it to its owner. At this mishap the girl laughed, just a little rippling laugh, the elder woman bit her lip, and poor Sandoval, the picture of despairing mortification, looked as though about to hide his confusion in flight.

At this juncture the girl put some question to the page. At his answer she became very grave, and again looked appealingly at Sandoval. He, realizing that the time had come when he must either speak or ignominiously retreat, and so become a fit subject for mirth throughout all Mexico, opened his mouth and, after several abortive attempts, blurted out:

"I – that is, señorita, you – ! I believe my brother, Don Juan – ! You have exhibited an interest – May I ask – ? I mean, did you – ?"

Here he paused, recalled by the expression of bewilderment on the girl's face, to the fact that she could not understand a word of what he was saying. She answered him, for all that, speaking so earnestly and with such musical accents, that poor Sandoval was completely bewitched, and, in spite of his ignorance of her meaning, would willingly have undertaken to listen to that sweet voice forever.

As she ended the words whose melody would linger in the ears of the embarrassed and shame-faced young soldier to his dying hour, there came a sound of other and harsher voices. Hearing them, the elder woman caught her companion by the arm and led her hastily away. Ere they disappeared, the girl looked back with a ravishing smile that said, as plainly as words of purest Castilian:

"I do not think you plain or awkward, or ill-favored, for I know you to be as true and brave a knight as ever plighted his troth to a maiden," and, from that moment, in his heart of hearts, was Sandoval's troth pledged.

Now he looked for the page on whom he relied to lead him from this enchanted wilderness. The boy had disappeared, and in his place stood two grinning dwarfs, with huge heads, grotesquely misshapen bodies, and thin, little legs that seemed illy calculated to support them. As Sandoval stared at them they returned his stare with interest, at the same time making diabolical faces and winking maliciously.

When he sternly demanded that they should lead him to the palace, they broke forth with a harsh cackle of laughter and danced about him like hobgoblins. Finally, tormented beyond endurance, he drew his sword as though about to attack them, whereupon they retreated beyond his reach with the lightness of thistledowns, and a speed that showed how little chance he had of capturing them. For an hour or so they amused themselves with impish torments of this young giant. When they at length disappeared, Sandoval found himself, flushed and breathless, standing before a cage of solemn-looking apes, whose appearance was so like that of his recent tormentors, that he could not help laughing in spite of his disgust. Fortunately, he was here discovered by some of the king's animal-keepers, who conducted him to a place from which he could see the Spanish quarters.

While Sandoval was undergoing these various and unique experiences in the royal gardens, Cortes and his companions were admitted to the presence of the king. Not having any reason to expect a visit from them at this hour, he was engaged in giving audience to many distinguished personages; ambassadors from other countries of the Western World, princes of tributary provinces or cities, caciques of recently conquered tribes, generals of his army, and the like, who had petitions to prefer or business to transact that required his personal attention.

Each of these was conducted into the throne-room by young nobles, who acted as ushers, and each, no matter how exalted his rank, was obliged to cover his gorgeous raiment with a robe of coarse nequen, and enter the presence barefooted. Approaching the king with many obeisances, and finally making the sign of servitude by touching first the ground and then his head with his right hand, the petitioner stood with downcast eyes waiting to be addressed before daring to speak. Each, as he was dismissed, retreated backward, and continued to make humble obeisances until he had passed from the room.

After watching this scene for some time with great interest, Cortes stepped forward, and, through his fair interpreter, abruptly demanded what had become of his young chief of Tlascalans.

"He is dead," answered Montezuma, simply, at which Marina staggered as though struck a heavy blow, and was scarcely able to translate the reply to Cortes.

"By whose hand?" demanded the Spanish leader, hotly.

"By the hand of no man, but by that of the gods."

"Where is his body?"

"No trace of it remains. If it were to be found I would deliver it to thee. If he had been slain by mortals they should be given to thee for punishment," replied the king, solemnly.

Nothing more was to be elicited; and, filled with rage, Cortes and his companions hastily departed, to consult as to what mode of revenge they should take, and upon whom.

They were followed, a few minutes later, by Sandoval, who, as he neared the Spanish quarters, was startled by seeing a man running toward him, hotly pursued by a crowd of priests and citizens brandishing weapons, and evidently intent upon taking his life. As he gazed curiously on this scene the young soldier was horror-stricken to recognize, in the well-nigh exhausted fugitive, his adopted brother, Huetzin the Toltec. Drawing his sword and springing forward with a loud cry, he succeeded in checking the pursuit long enough to enable the pursued to dart through a gateway of the old palace. As the rescuer quickly followed it was violently closed in the faces of the angry throng, whose prey was thus snatched from their very grasp.

CHAPTER XXIII.

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."

CHAPTER XXIV.

MONTEZUMA IS MADE PRISONER

That night Cortes convened a council of his captains, whom he told of the plot to kill him. He proposed to defeat this by being first in the field and making a prisoner of Montezuma himself. As an excuse for so high-handed a proceeding, he would bring up an affair, of which he had learned while at Cholula, but had deemed best to keep to himself until now. It was nothing less than an attack on the Spanish garrison at Vera Cruz, by an Aztec cacique named Quapoca, who claimed to have acted by direct orders from the king. In this engagement, though the Indians were ultimately defeated, the Spaniards, including Juan Escalante, the commandant, had been killed.

Armed with this excuse, Cortes, having requested and been granted an audience with the king, set forth for the palace at an early hour on the following morning. He was accompanied by Sandoval, Alvarado, and three other cavaliers in full armor. One of these was Huetzin, clad in armor provided for the occasion, and differing in no point, that the eye could detect, from a Spaniard. It was arranged that after Cortes and his companions were admitted to the king, other Spaniards, to the number of a score or so, should stroll into the palace, a few at a time, and remain within supporting distance in case of need. The rest of the troops, with the exception of a strong patrol on the avenue leading to the palace, were drawn up, under arms, in the courtyard of their quarters.

Montezuma received his guests with the utmost composure, and, through Marina's interpretation, chatted pleasantly with them for half an hour. At the end of that time Cortes, perceiving that a sufficient number of his men had assembled just outside the audience chamber, demanded of the king why he had ordered an attack to be made on Vera Cruz.

Although startled by the suddenness of the accusation, the king denied that he had done so.

Cortes professed himself willing to believe this, but requested that the cacique who had led the attacking force be sent for, that he might be examined.

To this Montezuma consented, and handed his signet to an officer, with the brief command that Quapoca be brought to Tenochtitlan.

After the officer had departed the Spanish commander proposed that, in order to prove his sincerity and place himself beyond suspicion of such an act of treachery against his Spanish friends, the king should transfer his residence to the palace occupied by them and remain as their guest until all questions in connection with this unfortunate affair should be settled.

As he listened to this proposal Montezuma turned deadly pale, and then his face flushed with indignation. "Do you dare doubt my word? The word of a king!" he demanded.