By Right of Conquest; Or, With Cortez in Mexico by G. A. Henty (best fiction novels to read TXT) 📖

Aztec placed himself at the loophole, and stood looking out; turning, from time to time, to see by the light of the torch, which was fixed close to where Roger was lying, that he was making no attempt to release himself from his bonds.

It was not until nearly midnight that Roger heard the expected signal. No sooner was the second call given, than he pulled the knot which kept the cords together, raised himself noiselessly to his feet, and sprang upon the Aztec. Taken by surprise, the man was no more than a child in Roger's strong grasp. In a moment he was thrown down, his cloth was twisted round his mouth, so as to prevent any cry from escaping him, and his arms were bound behind him with Roger's rope.

Roger then took his sword and javelin, and went to the door. As he had been told would be the case, the outer bolts were unfastened. Passing along a passage, he came to the outside gate. This was securely fastened, but Roger had no difficulty in scaling the roof of a building leaning against the outer wall; and on reaching this, he pulled himself up and dropped down into the street beyond.

Three persons were standing at the gate, and he at once made towards them. One ran forward with a little cry, and threw herself into his arms. The others were, as he had expected, Cuitcatl and Bathalda. The former saluted him warmly.

"Thank the gods you are free, Roger," he said. "I have a canoe close at hand for you. Bathalda will accompany you and the princess. I cannot leave. I am an Aztec, and shall fight until the last, with our brave young emperor."

"I hope, Cuitcatl, that when the resistance is over--as it must be before long, for I know from the talk of the guards that famine is among you, and that hundreds are dying daily--I hope that I may be able to aid you, as you are aiding me."

"I care not to live," Cuitcatl said. "The empire is lost."

"But there is no dishonor in that," Roger replied. "No men could defend themselves more bravely than you have done, and there is no disgrace in being vanquished by superior arms. I trust that you may live, and be happy, yet."

"Let us not stand here talking," the young cazique said. "It is not as it was before. Then you might walk through the city at midnight, without meeting with a single person. We sleep no longer now, but make nightly attacks on the Spaniards; and at any moment bodies of troops may come along."

The little party moved forward, and in a minute descended the steps. Bathalda took his place in a small canoe lying there.

"Here is a weapon which will suit you better than that sword and javelin," he said, handing him a war club, a heavy weapon, with pieces of sharp-pointed obsidian fixed in it.

Roger helped Amenche into the canoe, wrung Cuitcatl warmly by the hand, and then stepped in.

"Go," the latter exclaimed. "I can hear troops approaching."

So saying, he bounded swiftly away. Bathalda sat listening for a moment, to discover the direction from which the troops were coming. As soon as he made out the soft tread of the shoeless feet, he dipped his paddle in the water, and the boat glided noiselessly away.

It was not long before they emerged from the narrow water way on to the lake; and then the boat's head was turned in the direction in which lay the Tlacopan causeway. Presently Amenche, who had been sitting nestled close to Roger--too happy even to speak--sat up and said:

"Hush!"

Bathalda ceased rowing.

"There is a large canoe coming up behind us," he said, listening intently. "I can hear others on the lake, beyond us."

"We had better make into the shore again," Roger said, "and let them pass us."

The canoe, however, was not very far behind; and those on board caught sight of the little craft, as she rowed in towards shore. It was unusual to see so small a boat at night. The idea that it might contain a spy occurred to them, and they shouted to them to stop.

Bathalda exerted himself to the utmost, but the canoe came rapidly up to them. As the command to stop was again disregarded, a volley of javelins was discharged.

"We cannot escape," Bathalda said. "They will be upon us, before we can land."

"Cease rowing," Roger said.

"Amenche, lie still, dear, at the bottom of the boat. I will deal with them."

Seeing that the oarsmen had stopped paddling, the volley of javelins ceased; and the canoe, which contained some twenty men, ran alongside.

As she did so, Roger sprang on board her. Three or four of the natives were struck down in an instant, with his terrible weapon. The others, as soon as they recovered from their astonishment, rose from their seats and attacked him. Their numbers were but of slight avail. Standing in the bow of the boat, and swinging his weapon round his head, Roger kept them off; beating down one, each time his weapon fell. In vain they tried to close with him. His great size, and the suddenness with which he had attacked them, acted upon their superstitious fears. They knew not what sort of being it was with whom they had to deal, and the terrible strength displayed, and the instant fate that fell on all who approached him, appalled them.

Roger soon took the offensive and, making his way along the boat, drove them back before him. At last, when more than half their number had fallen, the rest sprang overboard and swam to the shore. Roger had been wounded by three or four spear thrusts, but these had been too hastily given to penetrate very deeply.

"I am unhurt, Amenche," he said, making his way forward again, and stepping into the canoe.

There was no reply. He stooped over, as she lay quietly there.

"She has fainted," he said.

"Row on, Bathalda. You had best give me the other paddle. I can hear boats coming in this direction. No doubt they heard the yells.

"Skirt along the shore. We shall be unseen, close in; and if they approach us, can take refuge in a canal."

But they passed along unnoticed. When they caught sight of the causeway, stretching away dimly in front of them, they again rowed out into the lake and, making a long circuit to avoid the canoes attacking Xoloc, the guns of which were firing hotly, came down on the causeway again in its rear.

They were hailed as they approached, for the Spaniards were all under arms. Roger shouted that he was a friend, who had escaped from the prison; and the Spaniards, in return, gave a shout of welcome. In another two minutes, the canoe lay alongside the causeway.

Bathalda sprang on shore, and held the canoe while Roger lifted Amenche up, and stepped out. A dozen hands were held out to assist him to climb the slippery bank.

His figure was known by them all. Many exclamations of welcome greeted him, and many were the inquiries as to the other captives.

"I will tell you all about it, directly. Bring the torch a little closer. I have a lady here who has fainted. We were attacked as we came out. The fight was a sharp one, and has scared her."

A soldier brought a torch and, as he did so, Roger uttered a loud cry. Amenche's face was bloodless, and her eyes were closed. But it was not this that had caused Roger's cry. There was a dark stain on her white dress, and in its center the feathered head of an arrow. While Bathalda and Roger had escaped the missiles, with which those in the boat heralded their attack; an arrow had struck Amenche, as she turned, when Roger sprang on board.

So great was Roger's horror that he reeled, and would have fallen, had not the soldiers standing round supported him.

"I think that she has but fainted from loss of blood," Bathalda said; and Roger, refusing all assistance, carried Amenche to the fort through the ranks of the Spaniards, who were engaged hotly with their assailants in the canoes.

He bore her, at once, to the chamber occupied by Marina. She was up and dressed, for the attack was a hot one, and there was no sleep in Xoloc. She uttered a cry of welcome, and gladness, as Roger entered.

"I have escaped, Malinche," he said; "but I fear that she has died in saving me. I have brought her to you, as you are the only woman here."

Marina took the girl tenderly, and laid her on a couch.

"I will see to her," she said, softly. "Leave her to me, Roger."

As Roger, blinded with tears, left the room, an officer met him at the door, and told him that Cortez had just heard of his arrival, and desired his presence. The general received him with great kindness.

"It is something to see one of my comrades back again, Sancho," he said. "I hear how sad a misfortune has befallen you; for I suppose the lady you brought ashore was she of whom Marina spoke to me. She told me that she did not give up all hope that you might return; for that the princess whom you loved was in the city, and would, she was sure, do all that she could to save your life."

"She did so, General," Roger said; "and I fear at the cost of her own--she and a noble young cazique, who was a brother to me, when I was living at Tezcuco."

"I will not trouble you now with questions," Cortez said; "but tell me--do you know whether any of the other prisoners are alive? Every evening we have marked that terrible procession to the summit of the temple. Fifty-eight have been sacrificed, but we know not exactly how many more remain; being ignorant which of our comrades fell, and which were captured."

"I cannot tell," Roger replied. "I was the only one left, out of twenty who were in prison together. If they were taken in the same proportion from the other prisons, there can be but a few remaining now. I was set aside until the last, because the priest who had daily chosen out the victims had been bribed by my friend Cuitcatl."

Roger hastened away, as soon as Cortez dismissed him, and hurried back to Malinche's apartment. Her Mexican attendant, who was standing outside the door, opened it when she saw him approaching; and as she came up Malinche stole out, with her finger on her lips.

"We have taken out the arrow," she said. "She is still insensible; but the leech thinks that it is from loss of blood, and hopes that no vital point has been injured. More than that he cannot say, at present.

"You had best have your own wounds attended to, now. I will have a pile of rugs laid for you, in this little room to the left; and will let you know if any change takes place."

"Do you think that there is any hope, Malinche?"

Malinche shook her head.

"I know not, Roger. I have already sent off to the mainland, to fetch a leech famous for his skill in the use of herbs. Our people have many simples of which you know nothing in Europe, and they are very skillful in the treatment of wounds--much more so, I think, than the white men."

Chapter 22: Home.

After having had his wounds dressed, Roger threw himself down upon the bed that had been prepared for him, and lay tossing for hours. Hitherto he had believed, and had often reproached himself for it, that he had not loved Amenche as she had loved him. She had loved him with the passion and devotion of the people of her race, and it was no figure of speech when she said that she was ready to give her life for him.

Roger knew that, until lately, his love had been poor by the side of hers. From the time he had sailed from England, to his first meeting with her, he had pictured to himself that some day, when he came to command a ship of his own, he would marry his cousin, if she had borne him in mind since he parted with her on Plymouth Hoe. This dream had faded away, from the time he had first met Amenche; and when Cacama had proposed the marriage to him, he had accepted the offer gladly. His chance of ever leaving the country, at that time, seemed slight; and he felt sure that he should be happy with Amenche. Since that time, the girl's frank expression of her love for him, her tender devotion, and her willingness to sacrifice country, and people, and all, to throw in her lot with him, had greatly heightened the feeling he had towards her; and he had come