CHAPTER X.
A short passage through which they stole, darkly, for it was notlighted, conducted them to a chamber, where the guide paused a moment,as if in doubt and fear. A strong light beamed through the curtaineddoor. They listened for a time, until hearing no one stir within, theIndian maiden pulled the curtain timidly aside, and then beckonedMagdalena to follow her. It was a spacious apartment, richly tapestried,and lighted by many such masked torches as Magdalena had seen in her ownchamber. The hangings were even continued over the ceiling, so that itresembled a pavilion rather than the sleeping apartment of a king,--forsuch it was. In the centre was suspended a magnificent canopy, wroughtwith feathers, overhanging a couch blazing with gold, and bedecked withthe richest spoils of the parrot and flamingo, with little pedestalsboth at the head and foot, on which incense was burning before goldenidols. Upon this lay sleeping the Indian lady, whom Magdalena had sooften seen during the two first weeks of her durance; and the infantslept clasping her neck. Magdalena doubted no longer that she beheld thequeen of the young monarch. But she crept softly after her guide, andwas soon buried again in darkness. After many turnings and windings,which made her fancy the palace was a great labyrinth, she suddenlyfound herself conducted into the open air, by a door exceedingly narrow,and concealed by a mass of trailing vines. But secret as this entranceappeared, it was not unguarded. A tall savage with a spear, started upfrom the bushes, as if to dispute their right of egress. But a word fromhis companion, low as the whisper of a breeze, removed his opposition.He flung himself upon the earth, as if to his divinity, and thusremained, until the maidens had passed.
It was by this time midsummer--for so long a period had elapsed sincethe departure from Tezcuco; but it was the season of the rains, and thechill winds from the lake penetrated Magdalena to the heart. The sky wasovercast, the grass loaded with moisture, and every gust shook down ashower from the trees.
It was very dark, and she knew not well to what quarter she was bendingher steps. But she could see a line of fires running as it seemed acrossthe lake, from a point in the city to the right hand, and lost in thedistance or obscurity of the left. This was, in fact, the northerncauseway, or dike of Tepejacac, the nearest point of which was scarce amile distant from the garden. It was occupied by the troops of Sandoval,who had extended his approach already within the limits of the watersuburb. Two or three of his brigantines were also perceived anchorednear to the calzada,--at least, their lanterns were seen shining fromtheir prows.
While Magdalena was yet stealing along after her guide, her eyes fixedupon this line of fires, she heard suddenly a great tumult begin amongthem, in which the yells of men were faintly distinguished amid thecrash of fire-arms and artillery. Shocked and frighted as she was, atbeing thus made a witness, though afar, of the terrors of human wrath,she soon began to look upon the conflict as of good omen for herself. Itwould certainly be a more attractive spectacle to any wandering infidelsin the garden than might be furnished by the obscure figures of herselfand companion.
Apparently the Indian maiden thought so too; for she increased her pace,and instead of skulking as before, among green-arched and shadowyalleys, she walked boldly along in a broad exposed path, that leddirectly to a corner of the palace. But from this very corner they sawrushing a tumultuous throng of barbarians, some of whom ran directlytowards them, though the course of others was in another direction.
The young guide drew Magdalena into a sheltered walk, and crepttimorously along until she reached the palace wall, when she sank down,from fatigue or fear, signing to Magdalena to do the same thing, andthus remained, until the last of the barbarians had vanished. The pathnow seemed clear, but still the Indian maiden remained cowering on theearth; and Magdalena, whose impatience distracted her mind and almosthardened her heart, perceived that she was sobbing bitterly. She touchedher arm. The guide shrank away, but seemed to collect her spirits andcourage at the sign. She rose up, and led the way to a broad door, wherean armed Indian stood, holding a flambeau. He seemed alarmed, though notsurprised at the sight of the pair, and spoke earnestly to the guide, asif to dissuade her from entering. She passed him, however, with a word,and the next moment stopped, in great agitation, before the curtain of adoor. Magdalena looked eagerly to her to confirm her hopes; but beforethe maiden could lift her finger, signing to her to enter, she heard,from within the apartment, the well known growl of Befo.
"Juan! dear Juan!" she exclaimed, and darted through the curtain.
The young man was pacing to and fro, not bound hand and foot, as herfears had anticipated, but evidently excited in the most painful degreeby the distant firing. He turned at the sound of her voice, and threwhimself into her arms.
"Sister! for I believe thou _art_ my sister," he cried,--"else how couldI love thee with a love so unlike that of man for woman? God be praisedthat I have seen thee once again: for it is time thou wert wrested outof this place. But what is this? Thou art wasted and thin! very thin:thy hands burn, thy cheek is hot--Sister, dear sister, thou art ill!"
"Think of it not," said Magdalena, with the delight of a maiden,listening for the first time to the voice of affection, and caressinghim without reserve: "Oh, Juan, I could die twice over, to hear youspeak so; and I care not if I do die, so you are but saved; for you havemade me very happy.--You are a prisoner, Juan,--we are both prisoners.An Indian girl brought me here--she will help you to escape, for you canspeak her language. You can go to Cortes, and tell him you are thebrother of Magdalena. He will not wrong you then,--no, he will notdare--Or perhaps we can fly together--we can fly in a canoe. The maidenwill help us, the good maiden: She is at the door--I will call her in."
At this moment, the Indian girl, driven in, immediately after Magdalena,by some sudden alarm, stood at a distance, near the door, muffled in hercloak, and shrinking almost within herself. A single dim and halfexpiring torch twinkled in the apartment; and its light scarcelyreaching her, she remained unobserved, a spectator of every thing, butof course unable to understand a word of the conversation.
"Go not, dear Magdalena," said Juan, folding her in his arms; "for itmay be that we have but a moment more to share together. Tarry, and hearwhat I have to say. I am, as I may say, a prisoner; yet it seems, if Ican believe the young king, more because I have incurred the wrath ofthe Mexicans than his own. Thus it is: the king rescued me from prisonin Tezcuco, first, because I had not long before given him liberty, tomy own great misfortune, and secondly, because he doubted not, that thewrongs I have suffered would incense me to take part with him, and fightagainst my countrymen; whereby, as he thinks, he would gain aninvaluable auxiliary. On the day of his coronation, he presented me tohis people, and called me his brother; nevertheless, they gave me butsour looks, for bitterly do they hate the sight of a Spaniard. If I willfight with them and for them, I win their love,--so he assures me, andso I can well believe; but this is clearly impossible. I have notfought, and I will not; and they say, therefore, that the king shouldgive me up to be sacrificed; and twice already, after having sufferedsome severe losses, they have come turbulently to the palace, to demandme. For this reason, I dare not appear among them, unless to be torn topieces.--Tremble not, fear not," he continued, as Magdalena clasped him,as if to shield him from approaching weapons: "I have seen thee bold andresolute among roaring breakers,--else how could I have saved thee, dearsister?--Heaven pardon Hilario! and heaven pardon me, my sister, that Iimputed his death to thy warrant!--I have seen thee bold and intrepid.Now summon back what courage thou hast; and, if heaven will, I will savethee yet again from destruction. I can myself escape, but not withthee--"
"Think not of me, Juan, think not of me," said Magdalena, earnestly andfondly. "Thou canst do nothing to make me so happy, as to tell me how Ican die for thee. Fly, then; pause not a moment, but fly; and know,that, if I meet thee not again but in heaven, yet thou wilt leave me inheaven, even upon earth, knowing that thou art saved, and that I haveministered somewhat to thy liberation."
"Be of this heart
, Magdalena," said Juan, "and rest assured that I willsoon return, if I have life, with such a force as will rescue theelikewise from thraldom. My plan of escape involves duplicity, nay, evenperfidy; yet are mine ends all pure, honourable, and humane. I perceivethat Guatimozin is incapable of resisting much longer. His people areslain by thousands each day, and thousands must soon perish from want.Cortes has already his foot upon the island; and house by house, thecity is tumbled into ruins. The poor king is distracted, and resolved todie, burying himself and his whole people under the ruins of hiscapital. This may be excused in a soldier, and in men; but the town isthronged with poor women and children; there are thousands of them--tensof thousands; and they must perish, if the siege be longer continued. Tosave them--to save the king himself (for thus only can he be saved,) Iwill break faith with him; and thus also will I save thee. My only fearis, that his anger may fall upon thee, when he finds I have deceivedhim; yet this he may not discover. There is one here, with whom, could Ibut find speech, I could secure thee a protector. Magdalena, I have onefriend here, who will be thine. An unfortunate attempt to escape hasperhaps robbed me of her assistance. Yet I spoke of thee to her,and--But, dear Magdalena, thou art sick and feeble!--I talk to thee toomuch. If thou art alarmed, I will not leave thee: we will await our fatetogether."
"I _am_ sick, Juan, and I know not what is the matter with me," saidMagdalena, faintly, suffering the young man to place her upon a seat."But who is this of whom you speak? Your friend, Juan--surely I shalllove _your_ friends."
At this moment, Juan, as he bent over her, caught sight of the jewelswhich the Indian maiden had placed upon her head and neck, and amongothers, beheld the star of pearls which had gained for the daughter ofMontezuma the name of Zelahualla, or the Lady of the Star, and thesilver crucifix.
"Good heaven!" he cried, "do you wear her jewels, and yet ask me who sheis?"
Magdalena started to her feet, and both turning together, they beheldthe Indian princess, shrinking in the shadow of the room, behind Befo,who seemed to consider her an old friend, her arms crossed upon herbreast, her head drooping, and her whole attitude and appearanceindicative of a spirit entirely crushed and broken.
"Zelahualla!" cried Juan, with a voice of delight; and rushing towardsher, he folded her in his arms, and strove to draw her towards hissister. "Why didst thou not speak to me, Zelahualla? Why dost thou turnfrom me, Zelahualla?"
The maiden sobbed, and strove to disengage herself from his embrace,saying,
"There is no Zelahualla now--The bright lady of the east is Zelahualla.Juan and the bright lady shall go. Why should Juan think there are_two_?"
In these broken expressions, Magdalena, had they not been in an unknowntongue, would have traced the workings of jealous and wounded affection.They filled Juan with surprise.
"What is this you say to me, Zelahualla?" he cried, "and what do youmean? Did not Zelahualla promise she would love my sister?"
"She did," replied the princess, without abating her grief: "she willlove Juan's sister, and any one that Juan loves; and she has brought thebright lady to Juan, and she has given her her jewels, that Juan maylove her more, and forget Zelahualla,--and the cross of his God, too,that he may not be sorry."
"Alas, Zelahualla, what evil-eye has struck thee? Dost thou think Ideceive thee? Wilt thou not believe this is my sister?"
The princess looked at him doubtfully and sadly:
"It is all as Juan says: but the king has asked questions, and thenobles have spoken to him with the words of captives; and they say, hehas spoken falsely of the bright lady."
"Wilt thou believe _them_, and not _me_?" said Juan, not withoutemotion, for he was touched by the deep and unreproachful sorrow of theyoung princess, though greatly surprised to find how her ear had beenabused. "I swear to thee, and may heaven judge me according to my truth,that, in this matter, I deceive thee not. There is but one Zelahualla,and she is the daughter of Montezuma."
The maiden sank upon his breast, sobbing, but now with rapture. Thenrunning to Magdalena, who had surveyed the scene with varying andextraordinary emotion, she threw herself at her feet, and embraced herknees.
Magdalena stood like one entranced, until Juan, raising up the princess,placed her in her arms, saying,
"Dear sister, give her thy friendship; for there is no one more pure ornoble of spirit, though artless, than this poor ignorant maiden; and letthe cross again hang on her bosom, for she has confessed her Redeemer.She will watch thee and guard thee while I am gone;--nay, she will nursethee too, for thou art very ill, and needest kind nurture."
Magdalena returned the embraces of the Indian maiden, but it was with awildness of manner, that greatly disturbed her brother, and evenfrighted the princess. He took her hand,--it was hot and trembling. Hekissed her, and found her lips burning with fever; and he perceived thatexcitement had wrought her indisposition into a degree of illness thatmight prove serious.
"Compose thyself, dear Magdalena," he said. "All now depends upon thycoolness and courage. If thou becomest ill, my scheme must needsmiscarry--Nay, I cannot attempt it, until thou art better; for it seemsto me now thou art almost delirious."
"Delirious, Juan? No, I am not delirious. Yet I am ill,--very ill, Ithink. Thou goest alone, dost thou not? Tarry not a moment.--We willleave thee,--we will not stay longer, lest the guards should return andfind us."
"Listen to me, Magdalena," said Juan, earnestly, as if he feared lesther senses should wander. "If I fall into the Spaniards' hands alive, Iwill come to this garden in canoes, with a proper force, and enter it bysurprise. If it be possible, I will seize the person of the king, havingpreviously secured him such terms from Cortes as shall protect him inperson and in his government, as the vassal of Spain. This will end thewar at once. But in this I may not succeed, yet be able to liberate boththee and the princess. Through her address, thou wilt be enabled to walkoften in the garden. Walk therein, as near to the lake as possible,especially late in the day, and in the first hours of the evening. Thedog Befo I will leave in a cage: when you are in fear, give himliberty.--The princess hath often fed him, and he will guard you well;and his voice, if I come in the night-time, will show me where to seekyou.--Do you understand me, dear sister? Struggle but a little againstthis fever, and perhaps it may leave you. At all events, the thought ofyour suffering will arm me with double strength, when I return, bringingyou relief. Alas, Magdalena, I am sorry to see you thus!"
"It shall be as you say, Juan," said Magdalena, a little incoherently."I will be governed by this maiden, and for your sake, I will love herwell. We will walk in the garden, too. Yet think not of us. If you aresafe, we will be content."
"Farewell, Magdalena, dear Magdalena," said Juan. "Walk, if thou artable, even to-morrow; for in the morning I will essay to depart. At anyrate, be thou sick or well, if thou hearest a bugle winded in thegarden, at any hour, be it morn or midnight, then be sure that you sallyout, and Zelahualla with you.--Farewell, sister, farewell!--andfarewell, thou, dear princess. When thou thinkest of me, let the crossbe in thy hands and on thy lips!"
With these words, and having tenderly embraced them both, Juan led themto the door, and putting their hands together, he had soon thesatisfaction to hear them step from the passage into the open air.
The Infidel; or, the Fall of Mexico. Vol. II. Page 10
