CHAPTER XXX
THE ESCAPE
Now Otomie put the rope off her neck, and descending from the
stool, stood before Marina.
'You are Marina,' she said coldly and proudly, 'and you come to
save us, you who have brought ruin on the land that bore you, and
have given thousands of her children to death, and shame, and
torment. Now, if I had my way, I would have none of your
salvation, nay, I would rather save myself as I was about to do.'
Thus Otomie spoke, and never had she looked more royal than in this
moment, when she risked her last chance of life that she might pour
out her scorn upon one whom she deemed a traitress, no, one who was
a traitress, for had it not been for Marina's wit and aid, Cortes
would never have conquered Anahuac. I trembled as I heard her
angry words, for, all I suffered notwithstanding, life still seemed
sweet to me, who, ten seconds ago, had stood upon the verge of
death. Surely Marina would depart and leave us to our doom. But
it was not so. Indeed, she shrank and trembled before Otomie's
contempt. They were a strange contrast in their different
loveliness as they stood face to face in the torture den, and it
was strange also to see the spirit of the lady of royal blood,
threatened as she was with a shameful death, or still more shameful
life, triumph over the Indian girl whom to-day fortune had set as
far above her as the stars.
'Say, royal lady,' asked Marina in her gentle voice, 'for what
cause did you, if tales are true, lie by the side of yonder white
man upon the stone of sacrifice?'
'Because I love him, Marina.'
'And for this same cause have I, Marina, laid my honour upon a
different altar, for this same cause I have striven against the
children of my people, because I love another such as he. It is
for love of Cortes that I have aided Cortes, therefore despise me
not, but let your love plead for mine, seeing that, to us women,
love is all. I have sinned, I know, but doubtless in its season my
sin shall find a fitting punishment.'
'It had need be sharp,' answered Otomie. 'My love has harmed none,
see before you but one grain of the countless harvest of your own.
In yonder chair Guatemoc your king was this day tortured by your
master Cortes, who swore to treat him with all honour. By his side
sat Teule, my husband and your friend; him Cortes gave over to has
private enemy, de Garcia, whom you name Sarceda. See how he has
left him. Nay, do not shudder, gentle lady; look now at his
wounds! Consider to what a pass we are driven when you find us
about to die thus like dogs, he, my husband, that he may not live
to see me handled as he has been, and I with him, because a
princess of the Otomie and of Montezuma's blood cannot submit to
such a shame while death has one door through which to creep. It
is but a single grain of your harvest, outcast and traitress, the
harvest of misery and death that is stored yonder in the ruins of
Tenoctitlan. Had I my will, I tell you that I had sooner die a
score of times than take help from a hand so stained with the blood
of my people and of yours--I--'
'Oh! cease, lady, cease,' groaned Marina, covering her eyes with
her hand, as though the sight of Otomie were dreadful to her.
'What is done is done; do not add to my remorse. What did you say,
that you, the lady Otomie, were brought here to be tortured?'
'Even so, and before my husband's eyes. Why should Montezuma's
daughter and the princess of the Otomie escape the fate of the
emperor of the Aztecs? If her womanhood does not protect her, has
she anything to hope of her lost rank?'
'Cortes knows nothing of this, I swear it,' said Marina. 'To the
rest he has been driven by the clamour of the soldiers, who taunt
him with stealing treasure that he has never found. But of this
last wickedness he is innocent.'
'Then let him ask his tool Sarceda of it.'
'As for Sarceda, I promise you, princess, that if I can I will
avenge this threat upon him. But time is short, I am come here
with the knowledge of Cortes, to see if I can win the secret of the
treasure from Teule, your husband, and for my friendship's sake I
am about to betray my trust and help him and you to fly. Do you
refuse my aid?'
Otomie said nothing, but I spoke for the first time.
'Nay, Marina, I have no love for this thief's fate if I can escape
it, but how is it to be done?'
'The chance is poor enough, Teule, but I bethought me that once out
of this prison you might slip away disguised. Few will be stirring
at dawn, and of them the most will not be keen to notice men or
things. See, I have brought you the dress of a Spanish soldier;
your skin is dark, and in the half light you might pass as one; and
for the princess your wife, I have brought another dress, indeed I
am ashamed to offer it, but it is the only one that will not be
noted at this hour; also, Teule, I bring you a sword, that which
was taken from you, though I think that once it had another owner.'
Now while she spoke Marina undid her bundle, and there in it were
the dresses and the sword, the same that I had taken from the
Spaniard Diaz in the massacre of the noche triste. First she drew
out the woman's robe and handed it to Otomie, and I saw that it was
such a robe as among the Indians is worn by the women who follow
camps, a robe with red and yellow in it. Otomie saw it also and
drew back.
'Surely, girl, you have brought a garment of your own in error,'
she said quietly, but in such a fashion as showed more of the
savage heart that is native to her race than she often suffered to
be seen; 'at the least I cannot wear such robes.'
'It seems that I must bear too much,' answered Marina, growing
wroth at last, and striving to keep back the tears that started to
her eyes. 'I will away and leave you;' and she began to roll up
her bundle.
'Forgive her, Marina,' I said hastily, for the desire to escape
grew on me every minute; 'sorrow has set an edge upon her tongue.'
Then turning to Otomie I added, 'I pray you be more gentle, wife,
for my sake if not for your own. Marina is our only hope.'
'Would that she had left us to die in peace, husband. Well, so be
it, for your sake I will put on these garments of a drab. But how
shall we escape out of this place and the camp? Will the door be
opened to us, and the guards removed, and if we pass them, can you
walk, husband?'
'The doors will not be opened, lady,' said Marina, 'for those wait
without, who will see that they are locked when I have passed them.
But there will be nothing to fear from the guard, trust to me for
it. See, the bars of this window are but of wood, that sword will
soon sever them, and if you are seen you must play the part of a
drunken soldier being guided to his quarters by a woman. For the
rest I know nothing, save that I run great risk for your sakes,
since if it is discovered that I have aided you, then I shall find
it hard to soften the rage of Cortes, who, the war being won,' and
she sighed, 'does not need me now so much as once he did.'
'I can make shift to hop on my right foot,' I said, 'and for the
rest we must trust to fortune. It can give us no worse gifts than
those we have already.'
'So be it, Teule, and now farewell, for I dare stay no longer. I
can do nothing more. May your good star shine on you and lead you
hence in safety; and Teule, if we never meet again, I pray you
think of me kindly, for there are many in the world who will do
otherwise in the days to come.'
'Farewell, Marina,' I said, and she was gone.
We heard the doors close behind her, and the distant voices of
those who bore her litter, then all was silence. Otomie listened
at the window for a while, but the guards seemed to be gone, where
or why I do not know to this hour, and the only sound was that of
distant revelry from the camp.
'And now to the work,' I said to Otomie.
'As you wish, husband, but I fear it will be profitless. I do not
trust that woman. Faithless in all, without doubt she betrays us.
Still at the worst you have the sword, and can use it.'
'It matters little,' I answered. 'Our plight cannot be worse than
it is now; life has no greater evils than torment and death, and
they are with us already.'
Then I sat upon the stool, and my arms being left sound and strong,
I hacked with the sharp sword at the wooden bars of the window,
severing them one by one till there was a space big enough for us
to creep through. This being done and no one having appeared to
disturb us, Otomie clad me in the clothes of a Spanish soldier
which Marina had brought, for I could not dress myself. What I
suffered in the donning of those garments, and more especially in
the pulling of the long boot on to my burnt foot, can never be
told, but more than once I stopped, pondering whether it would not
be better to die rather than to endure such agonies. At last it
was done, and Otomie must put on the red and yellow robe, a garb of
shame such as many honest Indian women would die sooner than be
seen in, and I think that as she did this, her agony was greater
than mine, though of another sort, for to her proud heart, that
dress was a very shirt of Nessus. Presently she was clad, and
minced before me with savage mockery, saying:
'Prithee, soldier, do I look my part?'
'A peace to such fooling,' I answered; 'our lives are at stake,
what does it matter how we disguise ourselves?'
'It matters much, husband, but how can you understand, who are a
man and a foreigner? Now I will clamber through the window, and
you must follow me if you can, if not I will return to you and we
will end this masquerade.'
Then she passed through the hole swiftly, for Otomie was agile and
strong as an ocelot, and mounting the stool I made shift to follow
her as well as my hurts would allow. In the end I was able to
throw myself upon the sill of the window, and there I was stretched
out like a dead cat till she drew me across it, and I fell with her
to the ground on the further side, and lay groaning. She lifted me
to my feet, or rather to my foot, for I could use but one of them,
and we stared round us. No one was to be seen, and the sound of
revelry had died away, for the crest of Popo was already red with
the sunlight and the dawn grew in the valley.
'Where to?' I said.
Now Otomie had been allowed to walk in the camp with her sister,
the wife of Guatemoc, and other Aztec ladies, and she had this gift
in common with most Indians, that where she had once passed there
she could pass again, even in the darkest night.
'To the south gate,' she whispered; 'perhaps it is unguarded now
that the war is done, at the least I know the road thither.'
So we started, I leaning on her shoulder and hopping on my right
foot, and thus very painfully we traversed some three hundred yards
meeting nobody. But now our good luck failed us, for passing round
the corner of some buildings, we came face to face with three
soldiers returning to their huts from a midnight revel, and with
them some native servants.
'Whom have we here?' said the first of these. 'Your name,
comrade?'
'Good-night, brother, good-night,' I answered in Spanish, speaking
with the thick voice of drunkenness.
'Good morning, you mean,' he said, for the dawn was breaking.
'Your name. I don't know your face, though it seems that you have
been in the wars,' and he laughed.
'You mustn't ask a comrade his name,' I said solemnly and swinging
to and fro. 'The captain might send for me and he's a temperate
man. Your arm, girl; it is time to go to sleep, the sun sets.'
They laughed, but one of them addressed Otomie, saying:
'Leave the sot, my pretty, and come and walk with us,' and he
caught her by the arm. But she turned on him with so fierce a look
that he let her go again astonished, and we staggered on till the
corner of another house hid us from their view. Here I sank to the
ground overcome with pain, for while the soldiers were in sight, I
was obliged to use my wounded foot lest they should suspect. But
Otomie pulled me up, saying:
'Alas! beloved, we must pass on or perish.'
I rose groaning, and by what efforts I reached the south gate I
cannot describe, though I thought that I must die before I came
there. At last it was before us, and as chance would have it, the
Spanish guard were asleep in the guardhouse. Three Tlascalans only
were crouched over a little fire, their zerapes or blankets about
their heads, for the dawn was chilly.
'Open the gates, dogs!' I said in a proud voice.
Seeing a Spanish soldier one of them rose to obey, then paused and
said:
'Why, and by whose orders?'
I could not see the man's face because of the blanket, but his
voice sounded familiar to me and I grew afraid. Still I must
speak.
'Why?--because I am drunk and wish to lie without till I grow
sober. By whose orders? By mine, I am an officer of the day, and
if you disobey I'll have you flogged till you never ask another
question.'
'Shall I call the Teules within?' said the man sulkily to his
companion.
'No,' he answered; 'the lord Sarceda is weary and gave orders that
he should not be awakened without good cause. Keep them in or let
them through as you will, but do not wake him.'
I trembled in every limb; de Garcia was in the guardhouse! What if
he awoke, what if he came out and saw me? More--now I guessed
whose voice it was that I knew again; it was that of one of those
Tlascalans who had aided in tormenting me. What if he should see
my face? He could scarcely fail to know that on which he had left
his mark so recently. I was dumb with fear and could say nothing,
and had it not been for the wit of Otomie, there my story would
have ended. But now she played her part and played it well, plying
the man with the coarse raillery of the camp, till at length she
put him in a good humour, and he opened the gate, bidding her
begone and me with her. Already we had passed the gate when a
sudden faintness seized me, and I stumbled and fell, rolling over
on to my back as I touched the earth.
'Up, friend, up!' said Otomie, with a harsh laugh. 'If you must
sleep, wait till you find some friendly bush,' and she dragged at
me to lift me. The Tlascalan, still laughing, came forward to help
her, and between them I gained my feet again, but as I rose, my
cap, which fitted me but ill, fell off. He picked it up and gave
it to me and our eyes met, my face being somewhat in the shadow.
Next instant I was hobbling on, but looking back, I saw the
Tlascalan staring after us with a puzzled air, like that of a man
who is not sure of the witness of his senses.
'He knows me,' I said to Otomie, 'and presently when he has found
his wits, he will follow us.'
'On, on!' answered Otomie; 'round yonder corner are aloe bushes
where we may hide.'
'I am spent, I can no more;' and again I began to fall.
Then Otomie caught me as I fell, and of a sudden she put out her
strength, and lifting me from the ground, as a mother lifts her
child, staggered forward holding me to her breast. For fifty paces
or more she carried me thus, love and despair giving her strength,
till at last we reached the edge of the aloe plants and there we
sank together to the earth. I cast my eyes back over the path
which we had travelled. Round the corner came the Tlascalan, a
spiked club in his hand, seeking us to solve his doubts.
'It is finished,' I gasped; 'the man comes.'
For answer Otomie drew my sword from its scabbard and hid it in the
grass. 'Now feign sleep,' she said; 'it is our last chance.'
I cast my arm over my face and pretended to be asleep. Presently I
heard the sound of a man passing through the bushes, and the
Tlascalan stood over me.
'What would you?' asked Otomie. 'Can you not see that he sleeps?
Let him sleep.'
'I must look on his face first, woman,' he answered, dragging aside
my arm. 'By the gods, I thought so! This is that Teule whom we
dealt with yesterday and who escapes.'
'You are mad,' she said laughing. 'He has escaped from nowhere,
save from a brawl and a drinking bout.'
'You lie, woman, or if you do not lie, you know nothing. This man
has the secret of Montezuma's treasure, and is worth a king's
ransom,' and he lifted his club.
'And yet you wish to slay him! Well, I know nothing of him. Take
him back whence he came. He is but a drunken sot and I shall be
well rid of him.'
'Well said. It would be foolish to kill him, but by bearing him
alive to the lord Sarceda, I shall win honour and reward. Come,
help me.'
'Help yourself,' she answered sullenly. 'But first search his
pouch; there may be some trifle there which we can divide.'
'Well said, again,' he answered, and kneeling down he bent over me
and began to fumble at the fastenings of the pouch.
Otomie was behind him. I saw her face change and a terrible light
came into her eyes, such a light as shines in the eyes of the
priest at sacrifice. Quick as thought she drew the sword from the
grass and smote with all her strength upon the man's bent neck.
Down he fell, making no sound, and she also fell beside him. In a
moment she was on her feet again, staring at him wildly--the naked
sword in her hand.
'Up,' she said, 'before others come to seek him. Nay, you must.'
Now, again we were struggling forward through the bushes, my mind
filled with a great wonder that grew slowly to a whirling
nothingness. For a while it seemed to me as though I were lost in
an evil dream and walking on red hot irons in my dream. Then came
a vision of armed men with lifted spears, and of Otomie running
towards them with outstretched arms.
I knew no more.
