"I cannot say, Lady," he answered shortly, "but at the least you will scarcely ask me thus to bring about my own and my daughter's ruin. I will be open with you. I gained over the Council of the Heart to Tikal's cause, and my price was that he should marry my daughter, thereby satisfying her love and my ambition. Yes, I have plotted to set Nahua on high, both for her sake and for my own, seeing that after the cacique I sought to be the chief man in the city. Can I, then, turn round and depose him, and my daughter and myself with him? And if I did, what would be my fate at your hands in the days to come? No, I seek to be revenged on Tikal, indeed, who has offered so deadly an affront to me and mine, but it must be in some other way than this. Tell me now, lady, what is it that you desire most—to be cacique of this city by your right of birth, or to marry the man you love?"
"I desire to marry the man I love," she answered, "and to escape from this place with him back to those lands where white men live. I desire also that my friend and my lord's friend, Ignatio, should be given as much gold as he needs to enable him to carry out his purposes in the coast country yonder. If things can be brought about thus, Tikal and Nahua and their descendants, for aught I care, may rule in the City of the Heart till the world's end."
"You ask little enough, Lady," said Matti, "and it shall go hard if I cannot get it for you. Now I will leave you, for I must have time to think; but, if Tikal returns, say him neither yea nor nay till we have spoken again. And as for you, strangers, remember that your lives depend upon your caution. Farewell."
Two more days passed, or so we reckoned by the number of meals that were brought to us, but neither Tikal nor Mattai returned to visit us. Other doctors came, indeed, and saw Zibalbay, who lay upon his bed like one plunged in a deep sleep, but though they tried many remedies they were of no avail. On the night of the second day we were gathered round his couch, watching him and talking together sadly enough, for the solitude, and the darkness, and the fear of impending death had broken our spirits, so that even the señor ceased to be merry, and the presence of her beloved to give comfort to Maya.
"Alas!" she said, "it was an evil day when we met yonder in the land of Yucatan, and, friend, no gift could have been more unlucky than that of my love to you, for which, being worth so little, you are doomed to pay so dear. Fortune has gone hardly with you also, Ignatio, who are fated thus for the second time to see a woman wreck your hopes. Say, now, friend"—and she caught the señor by the arm—"would it not be best that we should make an end of all this folly, and that I should give myself to Tikal? Then I could bargain for you both that before I pass to him I should, with my own eyes, see you safe across the mountains, taking that with you which would make you rich for life. Nor need you trouble for me, or think that you left me to dishonour, for, so soon as you were gone, I should seek the arms of another lord whose name is Death, and there take my rest, till in some day unborn you came to join me."
"Cease to talk thus, Maya," said the señor, drawing her to his breast; "whatever there is to bear we will undergo together, since, even if I could be so base as to buy safety at such a price, without you my life would be worth nothing to me, and, indeed, I had rather die at your side than live on alone. It is my fault that ever we came to this pass, seeing that, if I had taken your counsel, we should not have set foot within the City of the Heart. But curiosity conquered me, for I longed to see the place, as now I long to see the last of it; also, had we turned back, I must have left Ignatio to go on alone. Keep your courage, sweetheart, for though your father is dying and our danger is great, I am sure that we shall escape from these dungeons and be happy with each other beneath the sunlight."
Then he kissed her upon the lips and comforted her, wiping away the tears that ran from her blue eyes.
It was at this moment that I looked up and saw Mattai standing in the doorway,—for we were gathered, not in the hall, but in Zibalbay's chamber—watching the scene curiously and with a softened face.
"Greeting," he said, "and forgive me that I come so late, but my business is secret and such as is best done at night. How goes it with Zibalbay?"
"He lives," I answered; "I can say no more, for he is senseless, and, without doubt, soon must die. But come, see for yourself."
Mattai walked to the bed and examined the old man, lifting the eyelids and feeling his heart.
"He cannot live long," he said. "Well, death is his best friend. Now to my business. There is trouble in the city, and strange rumours pass from mouth to mouth among the people, many of whom declare that Tikal has murdered Zibalbay, and demand that you, Lady, should be brought before them, that you may be named cacique in his place. Things being so, it has been urged upon Tikal by the chiefs of his party that as, do what he will, he can never clear himself of the death of Zibalbay, it would be well that he should make away with you also, Lady, and, of course, with these two strangers, your friends, seeing that then there will be none to dispute his rights. The matter was laid before him strongly at a secret council held this afternoon, and once he issued the order for your deaths, only to recall it before the messenger left the palace; for at the last I saw that his heart overcame his reason, and he could not bear thus to divorce himself from you, Lady, though what he said was that he would not stain his hands with the blood of one so innocent and fair. Still, I will not hide from you, Lady, or from you, strangers, that your danger is very great, that you go, indeed, in jeopardy of your life from one hour to the next."
Now he paused, and Maya asked in a low voice:
"Have you no plan to save us, Mattai?"
"Why should I have a plan, Lady, who with my house would benefit so greatly by your death?"
"I do not know why you should have a plan, old man," broke in the señor; "but I tell you that you will do well to make one, else you do not leave this place alive"—and as he spoke, with a sudden movement, he sprang between Mattai and the door.
"If we are to be murdered like birds in a cage," he went on, "at least your neck shall be twisted first. Do you understand?"
"I understand, Son of the Sea," answered Mattai, flinching a little before the señor's fierce face and hand outstretched as though to grip him. "But I would have you understand something also; namely, that if I do not return presently, there are some without who will come to seek me, and then―"
"And then they will find your carcase," broke in the señor, "and what will all your plots and schemes advantage you when you are a lump of senseless clay?"
"Little indeed, I confess," he answered. "Still, my daughter, whom I love better than myself, will reap some profit, and with that, in this sad case, I must be content. But, do not be so hasty, white man. I asked why I should have a plan? I did not say that I had none."
"Then if you have one, let us hear it without more ado," said the señor.
Mattai bowed, as he answered:
"Your will is mine: but I know not how my plan will please the Lady Maya yonder, and therefore, before I unfold it, I will make it clear to you that there is but one alternative—the death of all of you by to–morrow's light. Your lives lie in my hand, and if I must do so to save my daughter and myself, I shall not hesitate to take them."
"Any more than I shall hesitate to take yours, old man," said the señor, grimly; "for remember always that if you do not make your plan such as we can accept, you will leave this chamber feet first with a broken neck."