The Infidel; or, the Fall of Mexico. Vol. I.

by Robert Montgomery Bird

  CHAPTER XII.

  As the bushes parted, a tall figure sprang into the path, and runninground the pool, would instantly have been at the side of the twoCastilians, who were yet unobserved, had it not been that Befo, hisferocity greatly whetted by his former encounter, darted forward as atfirst, with a sudden roar, with equal violence, and with similarsuccess. As the stranger fell to the earth under an attack so impetuousand unexpected, he uttered an exclamation in which Juan recognized thelanguage of Mexico. He ran forwards, guided by the growls of the beastand the stifled cries of the man, (for the spot on which the twocontended was covered with impenetrable gloom,) and, by accident, caughtthe stranger's arm, and felt that it wielded a heavy macana, nowuplifted against the animal. As his other hand was stretched forward,again to remove the victorious Befo from a fallen antagonist, it fellupon the naked breast of a barbarian.--In a moment more, he had torn thedog away, and dragged the savage into the moonshine, where he had leftCamarga standing, but where Camarga stood no longer. He had fled away inthe confusion, unobserved, and now almost forgotten.

  Here Juan released the captive from his powerful grasp, for his rapierwas in his hand, and the macana of the Mexican he had already cast intothe pool; and thus standing, confiding as much in the aid of Befo as inthe menacing attitude of his weapon, he began to address his prisoner.

  "What art thou?" he demanded, in the tongue which, as he had boasted,was almost as familiar to him as the language of Spain: "What art thou?and what dost thou here?"

  Instead of answering, the Mexican, gazing over his conqueror's shoulder,seemed to survey, with looks of admiration and alarm, some spectaclebehind his back. Juan cast his eye in the direction thus indicated, andbeheld the visage of Magdalena, recalled by the tumult, gleaming hardby. In an instant more, she had vanished, and he turned again to thecaptive, who, when the vision, to him so inexplicable, had faded away,now directed his attention to an object equally surprising and much moreformidable in his estimation than even the redoubtable Juan. As herolled his eyes, in mingled wonder, trepidation, and anger, on the hugeBefo, who now stood regarding him, writhing his lips and showing histusks, in the manner with which he was wont so expressively to intimatehis readiness to obey any signal of attack, Juan had full leisure toobserve that the Indian was a young man not above twenty-three ortwenty-four years old, of good and manly stature, and limbs noblyproportioned. His only garments were a tunic and mantle of somedark-coloured stuff, but little ornamented, the former extending fromthe waist to the knees, the latter, knotted, as usual, about his throat,but so disordered and torn by the teeth of the dog, as to leave theupper part of his body nearly naked. His only defensive armour was alittle round buckler of the skin of the _danta_ or tapir, not exceedingfourteen inches in diameter, strapped to his left arm. The loss of themacana had left him without any offensive weapon. As he raised his headat the second salutation of his capturer, he flung back the long massesof black hair from his forehead, and displayed a visage, as well, atleast, as it could be seen in the moonlight, not unworthy his manlyperson.

  "Olin, the tongue of the Teuctli, is a prisoner."

  As he pronounced these words, in his own language, signifying that hewas an orator of his high class, and that he confessed himself acaptive, he touched the earth with his hand and kissed it, in token ofsubmission. The tones of his voice caused Juan to start.

  He dropped his sword-point, advanced nearer to him, and perused hisfeatures with intense curiosity. His gaze was returned with a look ofequal surprise, which betrayed a touch of fear; for the Mexican at onceexclaimed, withdrawing a step backward,

  "The Great Eagle fell among the archers of Matlatzinco!"

  "The king is not wise--Guatimozin is in the hands of Cortes!" said Juan,with deep earnestness.

  "Olin is the orator--the king is wise," replied the Indian, hastily.

  "It is in vain," said Juan. "Thou art Guatimozin! and a captive, too,ere a blow has been struck, in the camp of thy foeman! Is this an endfor the king of Mexico?"

  "Quauhtimozin can die: there are other kings for the free warriors ofTenochtitlan," replied the young monarch, boldly and haughtily, avowinghis name,--which is here given in its original and genuine harshness,that the reader may be made acquainted with it; though it is notintended to substitute it for its more agreeable and familiarcorruption: "Guatimozin is a prisoner," he continued, with a firm voiceand lofty demeanour, "but the king of Mexico is free.--When did theGreat Eagle become the foe of Guatimozin?"

  "I am not thy foe," replied Juan, "but thy friend; so far, at least, asit becomes a Christian and Spaniard to be. I lament to see thee in thisplace--I am not thy foe."

  "Raise then thy weapon," said the prince, dropping his haughty mannerand ceremonious style, and speaking, as he laid his hand on Juan's arm,with fierce emotion; "strike me through the neck, and cast my body intothe pool.--It is not fit that Guatimozin should wear the bonds ofMontezuma!"

  It must not be supposed that this conversation took place in quiet.During the whole time, on the contrary, the garden continued to resoundwith the voices of men running from copse to copse, from alley to alley,sometimes drawing nigh, and, at other moments, appearing to be removedto the furthest limits of the grounds. At the moment when the Mexicanmade his abrupt and insane appeal to the friendship of his capturer, aparty of Spaniards rushed by at so short a distance and with so muchclamour, that he had good reason to conceive himself almost already intheir hands. They passed by, however, and with them fled a portion ofJuan's embarrassment. As soon as he perceived they were beyond hearing,he replied:

  "This were to be thy foe indeed. But, oh, unwise and imprudent! whattempted thee to this mad confidence?"

  "The craft of Malintzin," replied the Mexican, making use of a namewhich his people had long since attached to Cortes,--"the craft ofMalintzin, who ensnares his foe like the wild Ottomi, hidden among thereeds;--he scatters the sweet berry on the lake, and steals upon thefeeding sheldrake; so steals Malintzin. He sends words of peace to thefoe afar; when the foe is asleep, Malintzin is a tiger!"

  "And thou hast been deceived by these perfidious and unworthy arts?"said Juan, the innuendoes of Villafana and the monitions of Magdalena,recurring to his mind with painful force.

  "Deceived and trapped!" replied the infidel, with fierce indignation;"cajoled by lies, circumvented by treachery, seduced and betrayed!--Isthe Great Eagle like Malintzin?" As he spoke thus, sinking his voice,which was indeed all the time cautiously subdued, he again laid his handon the young Christian's arm, and continued,

  "Art thou such a man, and dost thou desire the blood of thy friend? Whatshall be said to the little _Centzontli_, the mocking-bird? The littleCentzontli sang the song to Guatimozin, 'Let not the Great Eagle die inthe trap!' What sings she now? Does the Great Eagle listen to the littleCentzontli?"

  "He does," replied Juan, on whom these metaphors, however mysteriousthey may seem to the reader, produced a strong impression. "Thou art_my_ prisoner, not Don Hernan's; and it rests with me to liberate or tobind, not with him. Answer me, therefore, truly; for if thou hast beentrained by treachery into this present danger, coming with thoughts ofpeace and composition, and not with an army, to surprise and slay, thoushalt be made free, even though the act cost me my life."

  "I come in peace: does the leader of an army walk bareheaded and naked?My canoe lies hid among the reeds: my warriors are asleep on the island.The Christian sent for a lord of the city, to give his hand to the angrymen of Tlascala. Guatimozin is not the king, but he brought them thehand of the king.--It was the lie of Malintzin! I am betrayed!"

  "If I suffer thee to depart," said Juan, anxiously, "canst thou makegood thy escape?"

  "Is not Guatimozin a soldier?" replied the Mexican, with a gleaming eye."Give me a sword, and hold fast the Christian tiger."--

  "Hark!--peace!" whispered Juan, drawing the prisoner suddenly among theboughs: "we are beset. Hist, Befo, hist!"

  With a degree of uneasiness, which approached almost to fear, when
hefound that Befo, instead of following him into his concealment, remainedout upon the illuminated path, where he attracted notice, whileexpressing fidelity, by setting up an audible growl, Juan heard a mancrash through the boughs on the further side of the pool, all the whilecalling loudly and cheerily to his companions.

  "Hither, knaves!" he cried; "the fox is in cover! Hither! quick,hither!"

  It was the voice of Guzman. He had caught the growl of the dog, andresponded with a shout of triumph, as he ran forward, closely followedby three or four soldiers armed with spears;

  "The bloodhound for ever! he has the fox in his mouth, I know by hisgrowling!--Hah, Befo, fool?" he continued, when he had reached theanimal; "art thou baying the moon then?--Pass on, pass on: no Indianpasses scotfree by Befo at midnight--Pass on, pass on!"

  In a moment more, the nook was left to its solitude, and Juanreappeared, with the prince. The sight and voice of Guzman had stirredup his wrath, and he took his measures with a quicker and sternerresolution.

  "He protects and loves this man, who is a villain," he muttered throughhis teeth. "There is nothing else left. Follow me prince: if we areseen, thy fate is not more certain than mine--Follow me in silence."

  The garden was still alive with men; they could be seen running about indifferent directions, though the greatest numbers seemed to be collectedat the bottom, near to the lake side. It was not from this circumstance,however, so much as from his ignorance of every portion of the groundsexcept that by which he had approached the pool, that he bent his stepstowards the wing of the palace he had so lately left. He advancedcautiously, taking advantage of every clump of trees, which could affordconcealment from any passing group; and once or twice, to allaysuspicion, adding his voice to those of the others, as if engaged in thesame duty; in which latter stratagem he was ably seconded by theunconscious Befo, whose bark, excited by the shout of his master, was asufficient warrant to all within hearing, of the friendly character ofthe party.

  Thus assisted by the undesigned help of the dog, and by the imitativecaution of the Mexican, he succeeded in reaching the wing of the palace,and the passage that led to his chamber, which was illumined by torchesof resinous wood. A door, leading to the open square that surrounded thepalace, opened opposite to that by which he entered from the garden. Itwas his intention, if possible, to pass through this into the city, notdoubting that it would be easy to conceal the fugitive among thethousand barbarians of his own colour and appearance, who yet throngedthe streets; after which, it would not perhaps be impracticable to findsome way to discharge him from the gates. But, unfortunately, as hepressed towards it, he found the outer door beset by armed men,thronging tumultuously in, as if to join their comrades in the garden.There was nothing left him, then, but to seek his apartment, as hastilyas he could, and there conceal the Mexican until the heat of pursuit wasover. A motion of his hand apprized the fugitive of his change ofpurpose, and Guatimozin, darting quickly forward, was already stealinginto the chamber, when a harsh voice suddenly bawled behind,

  "Mutiny and miracles! here runs the rat with the viper! Treason,treason!"

  It was the hunchback Najara, whose quick eye detected the vanishinghair, and who now ran forward in pursuit, followed by a confused throngof soldiers, from among whom suddenly darted the cavalier Don Franciscode Guzman.

  Juan had reached the door. The cry of Najara assured him that he wasdiscovered; and conscious that his act of generosity was, or of rightought to be, considered little better than sheer treason, the variedpassions of hope, grief, indignation and wrath, which had been, thewhole evening, chasing one another through his bosom, gave place at onceto the single feeling of despair. He felt that he was now lost.

  At this very moment, while his brain was confused, and his heart dyingwithin him, a laugh sounded in his ear, and he heard, even above theclamorous shouts of the soldiers, the voice of Guzman, exclaiming,

  "What think'st thou _now_, senor? Art thou conquered?--Stand! I arrestthee."

  He turned; the cavalier was within reach of his arm, and the malignantsneer was yet writhing over his visage. The words of scorn, the look ofexultation, were intolerable; the rapier was already naked in his hand,and almost before he was himself aware of the act, it was aimed, with adeadly lunge, at Don Francisco's throat.

  "The deed has slain thee!" cried Guzman, leaping backwards, so as toavoid a thrust too fiercely sudden to be parried, and then again rushingforward, before he could be supported by the soldiers, who had alsorecoiled at this show of resistance; "the act has slain thee; and sotake the fate thou art seeking!"

  As he spoke, he advanced his weapon, which was before unsheathed,against an adversary, whom the recollection of a thousand wrongs hadinflamed to frenzy, but who could scarcely be supposed to have retained,during a year of servitude and suffering, the skill in arms, which oncemade him an equal antagonist. Nevertheless, Guzman's pass was turnedaside, and returned with such interest, that, had the field been fairand unincumbered, it is questionable how long he might have lived torepeat it. As it was, the combat was cut short by the interposition ofthe bloodhound, who, whining, at first, as if unwilling to attack acavalier so long and so well known as Don Francisco, and yet unable toremain neuter, at last added his fierce yell to the clash of theweapons, and decided the battle by springing against Guzman's breast. Itwas perhaps fortunate for the cavalier that he did. He had a breastplateon; and, for this reason, Juan aimed the few blows that were made, fullat his throat, with the fatal determination of one, who, hopeless oflife himself, had sworn a vow to his soul that his enemy should die. Itwas but the third thrust he had made, (they had scarce occupied so manyseconds,) and it was directed with such irresistible skill and violence,that the point of the weapon was already gliding through Guzman's beardand razing his skin, when the weight of Befo's assault, for the thirdtime successful, hurled him from his feet, and thus saved his life, atthe expense of a severe gash made through his right cheek and ear.

  The whole of this encounter, from the first attack to the fall ofGuzman, had not occupied the space of twenty seconds; and Don Franciscowas at the mercy of his rival, before even the rapid Najara couldadvance a spear to protect him. It was not improbable that Juan wouldhave taken a deadly advantage of the mishap, for, as he had declared, ina cooler moment, he hated Don Francisco, and his blood was now boiling.If such, however, was his purpose, he was prevented putting it intoexecution by another one of those opposing accidents, which seemed thisnight, to pursue him with such unrelenting rigour.

  Before he could advance a single step, a cavalier, bareheaded andunarmed, save that he flourished a naked sword, sprang from the throngof soldiers, followed by the senor Camarga, now without his maskinghabit, the latter of whom cried with fierce emphasis, all the time,"Kill him! cut him down! kill him!" until the soldiers caught up thecry, and the whole passage echoed with their furious exclamations. Theseserved but the end of still further exasperating the choler of the youngman, thus beset as it seemed by the tyranny of numbers; and seeing thebareheaded cavalier advancing against him, and already betwixt him andhis fallen rival, he turned upon him with fresh fury.

  "Hah!" cried the new antagonist, when Juan's weapon clashed against hisown; "traitor! dost thou provoke thy fate?"

  The words were not out of his lips, before Juan perceived that he hadraised his rapier against the bosom of Cortes. He beheld, in thecountenance which he had once loved, the scowl of an evil spirit, andthe fire flashing from the general's eyes, was no longer to be mistakenfor aught but the revelation of the deadliest hatred. He flung down hissword, resisting no longer, and the next instant would have been runthrough the body, but that Befo, fearing to attack, and yet unable toresist the impulse of fidelity, sprang up, with a howl, and seized theweapon with his teeth. Before Cortes could disengage it, and again turnit upon the unfortunate youth, the Mexican fugitive glided from theapartment, threw himself before the latter, and taking the point of theweapon in his hand, placed it against his own naked breast. Then bowinghis hea
d submissively, he stood in tranquillity, expecting his death.

  At his sudden appearance, the soldiers set up a shout, and Cortes wassufficiently diverted from his bloody purpose, to smooth his frowningbrow into an air of official sternness.

  "Olin is the prisoner of the Teuctli," murmured the captive, in wordsscarce understood by any one present, except Juan.

  "Where bide mine Alguazils?" demanded the Captain-General, withoutcondescending to notice the Mexican any further than merely by removingthe rapier from his grasp. "Hah, Guzman! thou art hurt, art thou? Byheaven,"--But he checked the oath, when he observed that Guzman, alreadyon his feet, notwithstanding the frightful appearance that was given himby the blood running down his cheek and neck, and drippling slowly fromhis beard, replied to the exclamation with a smile of peculiar coolness:"Get thee to a surgeon. Where bide the Alguazils? Is there no officer torid me of a traitor?"

  "Senor General," said Juan, sullenly, "I am no traitor--"

  He was interrupted by the appearance of two men, carrying batons, whobustled from among the crowd, and laid hands upon him. The readiest andthe most officious was Villafana, who concealed a vast deal of agitationunder an air of extravagant zeal.

  "Ha, Villafana! art thou found at last?" cried Don Hernan, with apparentanger. "Hast thou no better care of thy ward on the water-side, but thatspies may come stealing into my garden?"

  "May it please your excellency," said Villafana, recovering his wit, "Iwas neither gambling nor asleep; but--'Slid, this is a pretty piece ofvillany! Oho, senor mutineer, this is hanging-work?--Speak not a word,as you love life."--This was spoken apart into Juan's ear.--"What isyour excellency's will, touching the prisoner?"

  "Have him to prison, and see that he escape not."

  These words were pronounced with a coolness and gravity that amazed allwho had witnessed the rage, which, but a moment before, had shaken theframe of the Captain-General. "And you, ye idle fellows," he continued,addressing the soldiers, "get you to your quarters, to your watch, or toyour beds. Begone.--Why loiter ye, Villafana? Conduct away theprisoner."

  Juan raised his eyes once more to the general, and seemed as if he wouldhave spoken; but, confused and bewildered by the extraordinarytermination of the drama of the day, chilled by frowns, oppressed by aconsciousness of having provoked his fate, his head sunk in a deepdejection on his breast, and he suffered himself to be led silentlyaway.

  A gleam of light, such as flares up at night from a decaying brand, justlost in ashes, sprang up in the leader's eyes, as they followed thesteps of the unhappy youth, until, passing from that door, which he hadso vainly sought to gain with the Mexican, he vanished from sight. Itslustre was hidden from all but the captive, who, maintaining throughoutthe whole scene, the self-possession, characteristic of all the Americanrace, from the pygmies of the Frozen Sea to the giants of Patagonia, didnot lose the opportunity thus afforded, of diving into the thoughts ofthe Invader.

  As soon as Juan Lerma had departed, with the mass of the soldiers,Cortes turned to the Mexican, and with a mild countenance, and a gentlevoice, which were designed to convey the proper interpretation of hisCastilian speech, said,

  "Let my young friend, the Tlatoani, be at peace, and fear not; no harmis designed him."

  Then, making a signal to those who remained, to lead the captive afterhim, he passed into the garden, and thence, by a private entrance, intothe hall of audience.