He entered with a downcast look, and while Maya and I watched him sadly, his examination began. It was not long. At the second question he became confused, used angry language in Spanish and English, and broke down.
"Brethren," said Tikal—and there was joy in his eye, as he spoke—"it seems that we need not trouble further with this impostor. By daring to enter our city he has earned the penalty of death; moreover he has blackened his crime by claiming to be of our Brotherhood, whereas he scarcely knows the simplest pass–word. Is it your will that he should be taken to his fate? If so, speak the word of doom."
Now Maya rose affrighted, but, motioning to her to be silent, I spoke, saying:
"Hear me before that fatal word is spoken which cannot be recalled! This man is of our inmost Brotherhood, though he has not been formally admitted to the inner circles, and has forgotten those of the mysteries which were taught to him at his initiation. Listen, and I will tell you how he came to join the Order of the Heart"—and I told them that tale of my rescue by the señor, and told them also all the story of our meeting with Zibalbay and of our journey to the City of the Heart, speaking to them for an hour or more while they hearkened earnestly.
When I had done they debated as to the fate of the señor, and—though by only one vote—decided that if I had nothing more to urge on his behalf he must straightway die.
"I have something more to urge before you pass judgment," I said in my need and despair (speaking and acting a lie to save the life of my beloved friend—yes, I who had blamed Maya for this same deed), "though it has to do with the mysteries of your religion rather than with those of our Order. It was the belief of Zibalbay, who is dead, that when the two halves of the ancient talisman—the halves Night and Morning, that together make the perfect Day—are set in their place in the symbol which once they filled before the dividing of peoples, then it shall be made clear what part must be played by each of us wanderers in the fate that is to be. To this end did Zibalbay undertake his journey, and lo! here is that which he went to seek―" and I drew the talisman from my breast. "Take it, Tikal, for I resign it, and lay it with its fellow in the place that is prepared for them, so that we may learn, and all your people may learn, what truth there is in the visions of Zibalbay."
"That is our desire," answered Tikal, taking the severed emerald and its counterpart which Maya gave to him. "Let the white man, Son of the Sea, be placed without the Sanctuary and guarded there awhile, for so at least he will gain time to prepare himself for death. Fear not, lady," he added, noting Maya's anxious face, "no harm shall be done to him till this matter of the prophecy is made clear."
Now for the second time the señor was removed, and when he had gone Tikal spoke, tracing the history of the prophecy so far as it was known, and reciting its substance—that when once more the two halves of the symbol of the Heart were laid side by side in their place on the altar in the Sanctuary, then from that hour the people should grow great again.
"In all this," he said, "I have little faith; still, Zibalbay, who in his way was wise, believed it, and, the story having gone abroad, the people clamour that it should be put to the test. Is this your will also?"
"It is our will," answered the Councillors.
"Good. Then let it be done, and on your heads be it if harm should come of the deed. Mattai, the Council commands you to set these fragments in the hollow of the symbol."
"If such is the order of the Council I have no choice but to obey," said Mattai. "Yet, though none else have done so, I give my voice against it, for I hold that this is childishness, and never did I know any good to spring from prophecies"—and he paused as though waiting for an answer.
"Obey! Obey!" said the Council, for curiosity had got a hold of them, and they craned their necks forward to see what might happen.
"Obey!" repeated Tikal. "But beware how you shake the Heart, lest the legend prove true and we should perish in the doom of waters."
Then Mattai set the two halves of the talisman in their place; and as before, in the midst of an utter silence, lo! the symbol opened like a flower. Leaning forward I saw the eye within its hollow; but it seemed to me that the fire had faded from the heart of the jewel, for now it gleamed coldly, like the eye of a man who is two hours dead. I think that Mattai noted this also, for as the symbol opened he started and his hand shook.
Now, when they saw the marvel, a gasp of wonder rose from the Council, then Tikal spoke, saying:
"It seems that there was wisdom in Zibalbay's madness, for the Heart has opened indeed, and within it is a stone eye resting upon a plate of gold that is covered with writing."
"Read the writing!" they cried.
Displacing the eye, Tikal lifted the plate of gold and scanned it.
"I cannot," he said, shaking his head. "It is written in a character more ancient than any I have learned. Take it, Mattai, for you are instructed in such signs."
Now Mattai took the tablet and studied it long with an anxious face, upon which at length light broke that changed anon to wonder, or rather blank amaze, so that I, watching him, began to think, not knowing all the cleverness of Mattai, that the señor was right, and the tablet had been tampered with since we saw it.
"Read! Read!" cried the Council.
"Brethren," he said, "the words seem clear, and yet so strange is this writing that I fear my learning is at fault, and that I had best give it to others to decipher."
"No; read, read," they cried again, almost angrily.
Then he read:
"This is the voice of the Nameless god that his prophet heard in the year of the building of the Sanctuary, and graved upon a tablet of gold which he set in a secret place in the symbol of the Sanctuary, to be declared in that far–off hour when the lost is found and the signs of the Day and the Night are come together. To thee it speaks, unborn daughter of a chief to be, whose name is the name of a nation. When my people have grown old, and their numbers are lessened, and their heart is faint, then, maiden, take to thyself as a husband a man of the race of the white god, a son of the sea–foam, whom thou shalt lead hither across the desert, for so my people shall once more prosper and grow strong, and the land shall be to thy child and the child of the god, east and west, and north and south, further than my eagles wing between sunrise and set."
Now, as Mattai read, the face of Tikal grew black with rage, and before ever the echoes of his voice had died away, he sprang from his seat crying:
"Whoever it was that wrote this lying prophecy, god or man, let him be accursed. Shall the Lady Maya—for her it must be whose name is the name of a nation—be given in marriage to the white dog who awaits his doom without that door, and shall his son rule over us? First I will see her dead and him with her!"
Then one of the eldest of the Council, a man named Dimas, who, as I learned afterwards, had been foster–brother to Zibalbay, rose and answered wrathily:
"It seems that these things must be so, Tikal, and beware how you utter threats of death lest they should fall upon your own head. We have called upon the god, and the god has spoken in no uncertain voice. The Lady Maya must become wife to the white man, Son of the Sea, and then things shall befall as they are fated."
"What?" answered Tikal. "Is this wandering stranger to be set over me and all of us?"
"That I do not know," said the Councillor, "the writing does not say so; the writing says that his son shall be set over us, and as yet he has no son. But this is certain, that the Lady Maya must be given to him as wife, and in her right he well may rule, seeing that she is the lawful heir to her father, and not you, Tikal, although you have usurped her place."
Now many voices called upon Maya, and she stood forward and spoke, with downcast eyes.