Kitabı oku: «The Harlequin Opal: A Romance. Volume 3 of 3», sayfa 9
Thousands of Indians were pent up in the square of the sacrifice, all arrayed in festal robes of white with chaplets of flowers. These latter were now torn off and cast underfoot, the white garments were spotted with blood – the blood of their friends – and, frantic with rage, the multitude did all that valour could do to break through the handful of men holding the bridges. The drums were rolling their thunder incessantly, the trumpets shrieked like human beings, priests bellowed, the worshippers yelled, and constantly could be heard the ominous cracking of the rifles, as every shot carried death into the white mass heaving tumultuously in the square.
All at once a trumpet beyond the walls rang out clear and thin.
"Hurrah!" cried Jack, waving his sword, "the reinforcements at last."
It was indeed the seven hundred men, who had arrived sooner than was expected. Martez, anxious to aid his leader as speedily as possible, had marched his men rapidly along the narrow path, and now they were steadily streaming through the gate, making for the several bridges where the fight seemed hottest. As the priests were shouting down encouragements to the people below, Rafael decided to attack the teocalli, and stop this work. Once the shrine was taken, and it was possible the Indians might yield without further trouble, a thing he heartily desired, as, like Jack, he was weary of this massacre.
Tim and Martez stayed with Don Rafael, while Philip joined Jack, and Peter, who was quite war-like in appearance, went to the town bridge, where Riconada was fighting. At a given signal, all three bodies of soldiers commenced to converge towards a single point, that being the teocalli. The priests saw this manœuvre, and bellowed with fear. Many threw themselves down the steep sides of the pyramid, in vain offering themselves to the war-god in the hope that he would decree victory to their fellow-countrymen. The women in the square were shrieking wildly, and hurling stones, wrenched from the houses, at the soldiers as they pushed the mass of men steadily before them. From the summit of the pyramid a cloud of incense rolled heavenward, and Ixtlilxochitli, in the red robe of sacrifice, stepped forward to the verge of the steps, holding up the opal in order to encourage his people.
A yell arose from friend and foe alike as they saw the glint of the stone, and the Indians closed resolutely round the base of the teocalli in a vain attempt to prevent the enemy from taking it by storm. All their valour and self-sacrifice was in vain. The three compact bodies of men pushed forward, shoulder to shoulder, through the white mass, leaving behind three several streaks of red and yellow, the uniformed bodies of their fellow-countrymen. Ixtlilxochitli saw these rivers of fierce soldiery converge towards the staircase of the teocalli, and yelling aloud to Huitzilopochtli, flashed the opal incessantly in the sun.
"There is Xuarez!" panted Philip, in the ear of Jack, as they cut their way onward.
"Where?"
"By Ixtlilxochitli. That chap in red. He is bound. By Jove, Jack, I believe the old fiend meant to sacrifice him."
"Pity he didn't," retorted Jack, grimly; "look out Philip. Ah, there is Tim. Hurrah, Tim! See which of us will reach the staircase first."
Even in the midst of danger, Jack could not help joking, and Tim burst out laughing as he hurled his huge form by Rafael through the crowd.
All at once their mirth ended. At the foot of the teocalli they stumbled over a nude corpse with a ragged wound in the breast. It was the body of Cocom.
"He has been sacrificed," cried Jack, fiercely. "Forward men! Avenge his death."
The advancing troops cheered loudly, and pressed steadily on towards the great pyramid.
The soldiers in the other part of the city had set fire to the dwellings, and already the flames were rising heavenward. Mad with rage, the Indians fought on doggedly, but could do nothing against the discipline of regular troops; inch by inch they gave way before the line of steel pressed against their breasts. The invaders stepped over corpses on their way to the teocalli, and those lying on the ground not yet dead, twining their arms round the legs of their foes, strove to throw them. The noise was something deafening, and the whole square was one vast field of carnage.
Jack and Rafael, with their respective troops, reached the foot of the staircase at the same time, and began to climb up. The priests, frantic with terror, threw down huge stones, tore the tiles off the shrine, and hurled them viciously at their foes. The drum was still beating, the incense rolling, and high above the din could be heard the strident voice of the old high-priest calling on his gods.
"Jack! Rafael! keep your eye on Xuarez; he is free," replied Philip, as they fought their way upward.
Such, indeed, was the case. Don Hypolito had managed to get his hands free, and was now struggling with Ixtlilxochitli. Why he did so, none of the Englishmen could make out, unless it was to kill the old man for trying to sacrifice him to Huitzilopochtli. The attendant priests closed round the struggling figures to help their head, and thus omitting to defend the teocalli, in a few moments the assailants were on the top.
Jack sprang up first on to the platform, closely followed by Tim. The crowd of priests rolled on either side, rolled over the sides of the pyramid, falling into the frantic mass below. Then they saw the design of Xuarez.
"Catch him Tim; he has the opal!"
Xuarez, with torn clothing and pale, blood-stained face, stood against the shrine with the opal flashing in one hand and a spear in the other. Jack dashed forward to seize him, and Xuarez, with a yell of rage, hurled the spear. In a second Tim had thrown himself between the weapon and Jack, receiving it full in his breast. He fell back with a cry into Philip's arms, and Jack, mad with anger at his friend's disaster, flung himself forward on Xuarez. The rebel leader dashed to one side, and threw himself over the smooth side of the pyramid, sliding downward on his back. Jack, with his revolver firmly grasped in his right hand, followed in the same way; but before he reached the ground a red mass shot rapidly past him.
"Ixtlilxochitli."
The rebel leader, holding the opal on high, dashed through the crowd of Indians, who opened a path before the sacred gem, followed closely by the red figure of the high priest. Jack saw the idea Xuarez had in his head. He was making for the secret way under the bridge, hoping to escape to the mountains with his booty. At once he followed the flying figures, but the crowd closed around him, and he had much to do to protect himself. Martez saw his danger and sent a body of soldiers to his assistance. In a few minutes, he was safe on the bridge surrounded by his friends. Xuarez and Ixtlilxochitli had disappeared through the secret entrance.
Determined to revenge the wound of Tim and secure the opal, Jack would have followed, when he heard a hundred voices on the platform beyond the pierced wall shout out the name of Xuarez. Wondering the reason of this, he darted up the street, followed by a few troops, and on gaining the platform, looked over to where the soldiers were pointing.
On the rocky ledge below, he saw two men struggling for the possession of the opal. Xuarez, hotly pursued by the old priest, had taken the wrong turning below the bridge, and they were now reeling on the verge of destruction. Nearer and nearer they came to the brink, then Xuarez, evidently seeing he was lost, threw the harlequin opal into the torrent. The great gem described a curve in the air, flashed rainbow hues in the sunlight, then dropped sheer into the boiling torrent below – lost for ever to the world. In another second, Ixtlilxochitli had forced Xuarez over the ledge, and the two men, locked in one another's arms, shared the fate of the gem.
Jack stood on the edge of the platform, looking in silent horror at the fate of the rebel leader, when he heard his name cried out loudly, and turned to see Peter hurrying towards him with a face of horror.
"Jack! Jack! Tim!"
"Tim!" echoed Jack, with a pang of fear, "is he wounded?"
"He is dead."
Jack waited to hear no more, but, followed by Peter, raced back to the teocalli. With the fall of the shrine had fallen the city, and Jack, crossing the square untouched, ran up the staircase rapidly. There, on the summit, supported in Philip's arms, with Philip's tears dropping on his dead face, lay Tim, merry-hearted Tim, whom they all loved so truly.
"Oh, Tim!" cried Jack, with a burst of anguish, and fell on his knees beside the dead body.
Below the tumult continued, the incense still rolled upward; but the last sacrifice had taken place in the teocalli of Totatzine, and Tim was the victim.
CHAPTER XII
FAREWELL, TLATONAC
Let us sail eastward, where the sun
Slow rises o'er the crimson wave,
Our western toils at last are done,
And rest, for ever, rest we crave.
Oh, see the shore fades far away,
A dim spot in the distant blue,
And eastward breaks the coming day
Which bids our life-day dawn anew.
Old times are at an end, – our lives
Have had their share of sighs and tears;
Now, loyal friends, with loving wives,
We hopeful look to coming years.
A cheer arose from the crowd at the sea-gate, the warships dipped their flags in salutation, the guns thundered from the forts, and The Bohemian steamed slowly out of Tlatonac Harbour. At her mainmast fluttered the Union Jack, over her stern drooped the Opal flag, for the daughter and niece of His Excellency Don Miguel Maraquando were on board, on their way to England, with their husbands, Sir Philip Cassim and Jack Duval. That same day had they been married by Padre Ignatius, and were now departing for the honeymoon, therefore did the guns thunder, the people cheer, the flags dip.
Six weeks had elapsed since the fall of Totatzine, since the death of poor Tim, and many events had taken place during that interval. When the teocalli was captured and the priests slain, the Indians, deprived at one blow of gods and leaders, yielded in despair to their conquerors. Don Hypolito dead, Cocom sacrificed, the opal lost, nothing more could be obtained from the town, so Rafael withdrew his troops by the cañon road, and returned to announce to the Junta that they need no more fear the restless ambition of Xuarez.
Poor Tim's body was taken back to Tlatonac by his sorrowing friends. For a long time they could scarcely believe that he was dead. Tim, who was so light-hearted and full of spirits; but alas! there was no doubt that he had died almost instantaneously on the platform of the teocalli. The spear, thrown with vigorous hate by Xuarez, and intended for the breast of Jack, had dealt a fatal wound, and Tim had but time to grasp Philip's hand in faint farewell before he passed away. The three survivors were wild with grief at this loss, so cruel, so unexpected, and reverentially carried the body of their old schoolfellow to the capital for burial. In view of Tim's services during the war, and the regard entertained for him by the Cholacacans one and all, the Junta decreed a public funeral to the remains; so Tim's body, with much pomp, was consigned to the vaults of the cathedral, amid the firing of cannon, the knolling of bells.
It was some weeks before the three Englishmen could recover sufficiently from this cruel blow to attend to necessary matters. Now that the country was at peace, and Don Hypolito slain, the President gave his hearty consent to the marriages of Dolores, Eulalia, and Carmencita. The weddings were very quietly celebrated, as neither Jack nor Philip felt inclined for revelry now that Tim was dead; and, indeed, so many of the Tlatonacians had lost relatives in the late war, that public festivities would have been out of place. Therefore the weddings were celebrated by Padre Ignatius in a very quiet fashion, and afterwards Jack and Philip, with their respective brides, departed for England in The Bohemian, while Don Rafael and Carmencita went north to Acauhtzin in a warship.
It was Philip's intention to establish himself and Eulalia in his ancestral home in Kent, and live the useful life of a country gentleman, varied by occasional voyages in The Bohemian. He could not make up his mind to part with the yacht, nor did Eulalia wish him to do so, and having proved herself to be a capital sailor, she took as much interest in the boat as did Sir Philip himself. Eulalia, having been shut up all her life in Tlatonac, now showed a decided desire for rambling, so it seemed as though even marriage would not cure Philip of his gipsy proclivities. Still before such matters were decided upon, the baronet deemed it advisable to instal his Spanish wife in the family mansion, and introduce Lady Cassim to the country people.
As to Jack and Dolores, they were only paying a flying visit to the old country for a few weeks, as Duval had finally made up his mind to settle in Tlatonac, and become a naturalized citizen of that city. The life suited him; he was married to a native lady of the place, and, moreover, the Junta had given him full control of all engineering works connected with the country; so Jack, with the full approval of Peter and Philip, thought he could not do better than establish himself in this new land. The country was rich in natural productions, in timber, ores, and precious stones, so when Jack's railways opened it up throughout the whole length, there was no doubt but that Cholacaca would become one of the most flourishing Republics of the Americas.
Owing to the severe lesson at Totatzine, it was anticipated that the Indians would be too cowed to give the Government further trouble, and this proved to be the case. The last stronghold of the old gods had fallen, and the sacred city, which had been the centre of incessant conspiracy against the Republic was quite broken up. With the vanishing of the opal, it lost its character of a sacred town, and now being thrown open to the world by the discovery of the secret paths, no longer possessed any mysterious charm for the Indians. With no centre, with no crafty priesthood, the power of the tribes, instead of being concentrated, became scattered, and there is no doubt that in the near future, when the country is a network of railways, that the savage tribes will vanish before the advancing flood of civilisation.
Peter did not come in The Bohemian, as he had accepted the invitation of a celebrated naturalist to visit him up Mexico way, and hunt beetles and butterflies in company. Faithless Peter, he refused to marry Doña Serafina, and fled the smiles of his elderly charmer, for they, to him, dearer delights of entomology. Baffled in one quarter, Doña Serafina was successful in another, for she turned her attention to Don Alfonso Cebrian, and succeeded, after some difficulty, in marrying the Intendante of Xicotencatl, who had for some years been a widower. Serafina found on marriage that she possessed a step-daughter, with whom she could not agree, but speedily settled her future by marrying her off to Captain Velez, who thus became the Intendante's son-in-law after all.
After leaving Tlatonac, the four people on board The Bohemian were talking of these things on deck, in the warm sunshine. It was the afternoon of a perfect day, and the yacht steamed merrily along towards the distant ocean. To the surprise of Philip and Jack, the ladies proved to be excellent sailors, and were quite fascinated with the yacht, much to the gratification of old Benker, who, for the first time in his crusty old life, approved of the existence of the female sex.
When they were tired roaming about and making inquiries about this, that, and the other thing, they settled down in comfortable deck-chairs to talk about the future with their respective husbands. Dolores and Jack were returning to Tlatonac shortly, so had but the same life to look forward to; but Eulalia was secretly dismayed at the prospect of being an English lady.
"Querido!" she said to Philip, looking at him over the top of her big black fan, "I cannot talk your tongue. And your English ladies! I hear they are so cold. And your climate. Oh, Felipe, I fear your climate."
"Who told you all these nice things, Eulalia?" asked Philip, smiling.
"Don Pedro."
"My dear girl, you must not believe what Peter says. He doesn't know a thing, except what relates to beetles. You are learning to talk English very quickly, and as to the English ladies – they will all fall in love with you."
"And the climate of England," added Jack, wickedly, "is the best in the world."
"No!" replied Philip, laughing, "I cannot conscientiously say that. But neither Eulalia nor myself will stay much in England. We shall travel."
Eulalia clapped her hands with glee on hearing this delightful proposal, and Dolores settled the future course of such travelling.
"Wherever you may go, Señor Felipe," she said smiling, "forget not that Juan and myself dwell in Tlatonac, and shall expect you both once a year."
"More or less!" cried Jack, lazily. "Come in a year, Philip, and you will see how Cholacaca is going ahead. I will have that railway to Acauhtzin ready before you know where you are. All those little forest towns will soon be in communication with the outside world – "
"And Totatzine?"
"Ah, Totatzine has lost its mysterious charm of the unknown. I'll turn it into a resort for invalids, or a Central American Monte Carlo. Where Huitzilopochtli was worshipped, future generations will adore the goddess of play."
"At that rate, you will still have victims offered at the shrine," said Philip, grimly; "but, after all, Jack, it was a pity we lost the opal."
"Can it not be found again?" asked Dolores, who deeply regretted the vanished jewel.
Jack shook his head.
"I am afraid not. Xuarez threw it into the torrent. Heaven only knows in what profound depths it now lies. Perhaps it is best so. While it was on earth, it caused nothing but trouble, from the time it was in the possession of Montezuma, to the death of Xuarez."
"Now it is lost, I suppose the superstition will die out!"
"Superstition dies hard. All kinds of legends will grow up about that famous gem. It will still be remembered for many years, the more especially as Tlatonac is still, and ever shall be, the City of the Opal."
"And Dolores is still the guardian of the opal," said Eulalia, pensively.
"A guardian of a stone that has now no existence," replied Dolores, laughing; "but, after all, I had rather the jewel was lost than my Juan."
"Ah, Dolores!" said Jack, with a sad smile, "had it not been for the Señor Correspoñsal, your Juan would have been lost."
"Poor Tim," muttered Philip, softly, turning away to conceal his emotion.
The tears sprang to Dolores' eyes, and Eulalia was scarcely less affected. It seemed too terrible that they should all be so happy, when poor Tim, whom they loved so much, should be lying in the grave. The bitterest part of it was that the death had taken place just when the war was over. Tim had escaped the siege of Janjalla, the battle of Centeotl, only to fall in a skirmish at the obscure town of Totatzine. It was fate!
They remained silent for a few minutes, thinking of the dead man, and then Philip aroused himself with an effort.
"Come!" he said, with a smile. "We must not be melancholy on our wedding-day. Poor Tim himself would have been the last to countenance such folly. We can talk of other things. Of Rafael, for instance."
"There is not much to talk about Rafael," said his sister, lightly; "he is married to Doña Carmencita. He is now Governor of Acauhtzin, and when Cholacaca has a fleet, he shall be its almirante. I think Rafael is very fortunate, Felipe."
"Not so fortunate as I am," replied the baronet looking at her fondly.
"Nor as I!" cried Jack, slipping his arm round Dolores' waist. "Ah, Philip, how many things have taken place since we sailed over these waters! Did I not tell you you would bring home a bride?"
"You did, and I half believed you. For once, you have prophesied correctly. I am grateful to you, Jack, for having led me to secure this prize. When you came back to England, I was settling down into a crusty old bachelor; but now you will find me a devoted husband – all through your coming to England."
"Say, rather, all through the agreement we made at Bedford School, so many years ago. That boyish freak has brought us good fortune and charming wives."
"Yet Peter is still a bachelor."
"Oh, Peter will marry a beetle! I expect we shall see him in England shortly. For myself, I do not complain of Fate; nor does Dolores."
Jack bent down tenderly, and kissed Dolores, which example seemed so good to Philip that he at once followed suit.
The sun was setting in the west, and the sky was one blaze of colours. Pale rose, tawny-yellow, and high above, the delicate blue of the departing day. The sky, the sea were all glittering with rainbow hues of unexampled brilliancy. The yacht, leaving all this splendour behind, steamed steadily onward towards the coming night.
"It is like the Chalchuih Tlatonac," said Dolores, pointing to the sunset.
"And we are leaving it behind," replied Jack, taking her hand; "but I do not regret it, querida. If Fate has denied me the harlequin opal, she has given me a dearer and more precious gift – yourself."
