"There will be a great gathering of the people," he answered, "as is customary at dawn after the night of the Rising of Waters, and there they will be told all that has happened in the Sanctuary, and then, if it is their will, Tikal will be confirmed as cacique according to the bargain, and either to–day or to–morrow the white man here will become the husband of the Lady Maya, in order"—he added with a sneer—"that of their union may be born the Deliverer who is to be. Now, if you are ready, it is time for us to go, for the multitude is gathered, and an escort waits us without."
Leaving the palace we placed ourselves in the centre of a party of nobles and guards who were in attendance, and marched across the courtyard and up the steps of the pyramid. The night was growing grey with the breaking of the dawn, and in the pearly light, through which the stars shone faintly, we perceived that bands of priests and nobles, wrapped in their broidered serapes—for the morning air was chilly—stood in their appointed places round the altar. In front of them were ranged the dense masses of the people, drawn here to make their prayers upon this feast day, and also by desire to learn the truth as to the death of Zibalbay; the fate of the strangers who had accompanied him from the unknown lands; the decision of the Council as to the successor to the place and power of cacique; and lastly, whether or no the oracle of the god had spoken to his priests upon this or any other matter when the lost talisman was set in its place in the Sanctuary.
On reaching the altar, seats were given to us among the nobles of the Heart, those of Maya and the señor being placed in such fashion that they would be visible to the whole multitude.
Then followed a silence, till at length a priest who was stationed upon the roof of the watch–house blew a silver trumpet and proclaimed that the dawn was broken, whereon bands of singers who were in readiness began to chant a very beautiful hymn of which the refrain was caught up by the audience. As they sang, a beam from the rising sun struck upon the fire that burned above the altar, and again the trumpet sounded. Then, in the silence that followed, the priest who stood by the fire, clothed in white robes, prayed in a loud voice, saying:
"O god, our god, let our sins die with the dying year. O god, our god, strengthen us with thy strength, comfort us with thy comfort during the day that is to be. O god, our god, have pity upon us, lift us from the darkness of the past, and give us light in the coming time. Hear us, Heart of Heaven, hear us!"
He ceased, and from the surrounding gloom many voices made response, saying: "Hear us, Heart of Heaven, hear us!"
Then for a space the old priest stood still, the firelight flickering on his tall form and rapt countenance as he gazed towards the east. Greyer and more grey grew the gloom, till of a sudden a ray from the unrisen sun shot through the shadows like a spear and fell athwart the summit of the pyramid, paling the holy fire, that seemed to shrink before it. At the coming of the sunbeam the multitude of worshippers—men and women together—rose from the marble pavement whereon they had been kneeling in prayer, and, casting off the dark cloaks which covered their white robes, they turned, extending their arms towards the east, and cried with one accord:
"Hail to thee, O sun! bringer of all good things. Hail to thee, new–born child of god!"
Now the light grew fast, and soon the city appeared, rising white and beautiful from its veil of mist; and, as the glory of the daylight fell upon it, other priests who stood by the altar uttered prayers appointed to be offered upon this day of the beginning of the Rising of Waters. To the People of the Heart the occasion was a great one, seeing that but little rain falls in their country, and thus they depend for a bountiful harvest upon the inundation of the island and of the low shores that lay around the lake by its waters swollen with the melted snow of the great mountains on the mainland. When the waters retreated, then they planted their grain in rich land made fertile by the mud, without labour to themselves, whence, before the lake rose again, they gathered their corn and other crops.
When they had ended their praying, and gifts of fresh flowers had been laid upon the altar by beautiful children chosen for that purpose, Tikal blessed the multitude as high priest, and the simple ceremony came to an end.
Then Mattai rose to speak, telling the people all things that had happened, or so much of them as it was expedient that they should know. He told them of the death of Zibalbay, of the setting of the lost talisman in the symbol, and of the writing which was found therein, which he read aloud to them amidst a dead silence. Then he told them how the Lady Maya and the white man had consented to be married in obedience to the voice of the oracle; and lastly, how she, the Lady Maya, had desired that her cousin Tikal should continue to be cacique of the City of the Heart, that she might have more leisure to attend upon her heaven–sent husband, and to be at rest until that child was become a man, whose wisdom and power should make them even greater than their forefathers had been.
When he had finished his address there was much applause and other expressions of joy, and a spokesman from among the people asked when the marriage of the white man, Son of the Sea, to the Lady Maya, would take place.
This question she answered in person, saying modestly that it was her lord's will that it should take place that very night in the banqueting–hall of the palace, and that a great feast should be celebrated in honour of it.
After this the talking came to an end, Tikal having said no word, good or bad, beyond such as the duties of his office required; and according to the custom of the country many people, noble and simple, came forward to congratulate her who was about to be made a bride. Weary of watching them and of hearing their pretty speeches, I took advantage of the escort of a friendly noble and went to see the ceremony of the closing of the flood–gate, a huge block of marble that slid down a groove into a niche prepared to receive it, where it was fastened with great bars of copper and sealed by certain officers, although, so I was told, the rising water would not reach it for another eight or ten days. Even though the flood should prove to be a low one, it was death to break those seals for a space of four full months, and during all this time any who would leave the city must do so by means of ladders reaching from the wall to little wooden jetties, where boats were moored. Afterwards we walked round the walls and through some of the main streets, and I marvelled at the greatness of this half–deserted place, for the most of it was in ruins, and at the many strange sights that I saw in it. Indeed, I think that Mexico, in the time of Montezuma, my forefather, was not more powerful or populous than this town must have been in the days of its prosperity.
About midday I returned to the apartments that had been assigned to me in the palace, and, hearing that the señor was still in attendance upon the Lady Maya, I ate my dinner alone with such appetite as I could find, and lay down to sleep awhile.
I was awakened from my rest by the señor, who arrived, looking merry as he used to be before ever Molas came to lead us to the old Indian doctor and his daughter, and full of talk about the preparations for his wedding that night. I listened to all he had to say, and strove earnestly to fall into his mood, but, as I suppose, without effect, for in the end he fell into mine, which was but a sad one, and began to talk regretfully of the past and doubtfully of the future. Now I did my best to cheer him, but with little avail, for he shook his head and said: