The circuit of the square being accomplished, the procession halted at the palace gates, and many hands were stretched out to help the bride and bridegroom from their litters. It was at this moment that I, who was standing near, felt a man wrapped in a large feather cloak push past me, and saw that he held something which gleamed like a knife.
By instinct, as it were, I cried, "Beware, my friend!" in Spanish, and in so piercing a voice that it caught the señor's ear. He swung round, for already he was standing on his feet, and, as he turned, the man in the cloak rushed at him and stabbed with the knife. But, being warned, the señor was too quick for him. Springing to one side, with the same movement he dealt his would–be murderer a great buffet, that caused him to drop the dagger and sent him staggering into the dense shadow of the archway.
For some seconds no one seemed to understand what had happened, and when they did and began to search for the man, he was not to be found. Who he was, or why he had attempted this cowardly deed, was never discovered; but for my part I have little doubt that either Tikal himself or some creature of his was wrapped in the dark feather cloak, and sought thus to rid him of his rival. Indeed, as time went on, this belief took firm hold of the mind of the people, and was one of the causes that led to the sapping of Tikal's power and popularity.
Very hastily the señor assured the lords in attendance who crowded round him that he had received no manner of hurt, and then, after speaking a few brief words of thanks, he withdrew into the palace with his wife, and I saw him no more that night.
The day of this marriage was to me the beginning of the longest and most weary year that ever I have spent in a long and weary life. Very soon I understood how it came about that Maya had learned to hate the City of the Heart in which she was born, its people, and its ways, and ardently to desire a new life in new lands. Here there was no change and little work; here, enervated by a cloying luxury, the poor remnant of a great civilisation rotted slowly to its fall, and none lifted a hand to save it. Since men must do something, the priests and nobles plotted for place and power indeed, and the common people listlessly followed this trade or that, providing food and raiment for the community—not for themselves—but there was little heart in what they did, and they took no pleasure in it. Basking in the eternal sunshine, they loitered from the cradle to the grave, hoping nothing, suffering nothing, fearing nothing, content to feast amid their crumbling palaces, and, when they were weary, to sleep till it was time to feast again, satisfying their souls the while with the husks of a faith whereof they had lost the meaning. Such were the people of whom Zibalbay hoped to fashion a race of conquerors!
Still, to this life they were born and it became them; indeed, they could have endured no other, for the breath of hardship must have melted them away as my Indian forefathers melted beneath the iron rule of the Spaniard, but to me it was a daily torment. Often I have beheld some wild creature pine and die in its prison, though food was given to it in greater abundance than it could find in its native woods, and like that wild creature was I in this soft City of the Heart.
The wealth I came to seek was round me in abundance, useless and unproductive as the dead hands that had stored it, and yonder in Mexico were men who by aid of that wealth might become free and great: but alas! I could not bring them together. I could not even escape from my gaol, for my every movement was watched. Yet I would have tried to do so had it not been for the señor, who, when I spoke of it, said I should be no true friend of his if I went and left him alone in this house of strangers. Indeed his plight was worse than mine, for he too soon grew utterly weary of this dreadful city of eternal summer, and of everything in it except his wife. For whole hours we would sit gazing on the wide waters of the lake, and make plan after plan whereby we might gain the mountains and freedom, only to abandon each in turn. For they were hopeless. Day and night he was watched, since here alone this people forgot to be indolent. They knew that their race was dying and, lifting no hand to save themselves, they preferred to pin their faith upon the prophecy which promised that from this white man should spring a saviour. Meanwhile, false though it may have been, the prophecy, or one part of it, was in the way of fulfilment, which in itself was a wonder to this people, among whom the births of children were so rare. At length that child was born—a son—and the rejoicing knew no bounds. Strangely enough, upon the same day Nahua also gave birth to a son, and great was her anger when she learned that it was not on her account or on that of her offspring that the people were so glad.
Within a few days of the señor's marriage we heard that Mattai had been seized with sickness, a kind of palsy, together with a leprous condition of the arms that baffled all skill. For months he lay in his house, growing gradually worse, so said the physicians; but one night—I remember that it was three days previous to the birth of Maya's child—he appeared before Maya, the señor, and myself, as we sat together in the palace looking out upon the moonlit garden. At first we did not know him, for never before had I seen a sight so dreadful. His body was bloated; one arm—his left—was swathed in bandages; his head shook incessantly; and the leprosy had seized his face, which was of a livid hue.
"Do not shrink from me," he began, in a low and quavering voice, as he gazed upon us with his whitening eyes; "surely you should not shrink, seeing that all of you are partners in the crime that has made of me the loathsome thing I am. Ay! deny it if you will, but I know it. The vengeance of the god has fallen upon me, his false servant, and it has fallen justly. Moreover, be assured that on you also shall that vengeance fall, for the Eye has seen, the Mouth has told, and the Heart has thought upon your doom. Look upon me, and learn how rich are the wages of him who works iniquity, and by my sufferings strive to count the measure of your own. Perchance your cup is not yet full; perchance you have still greater sins to work: but vengeance shall come—I tell you that vengeance shall come here and hereafter. I did this thing for my daughter's sake; yes, for love of her, my only child. She was ambitious and she desired this man, and I thought to assure greatness to her and to her children after her.
"But see how her wine has been turned to vinegar, and her pleasant fruits to ashes. Her husband hates her with an ever–growing hate; now they scarcely speak, or speak only to shower bitter words upon each other's head. More—not for long will Tikal be cacique of the City of the Heart, for his jealous rage has soured all his mind; his deeds are deeds of oppression and injustice; already he is detested by the people, and even those who loved him turn from him and plot against him. Do you know what they plot? They plot to make that child that shall be born of you, Maya, cacique in his room, and to set up you and your outland husband as regents till it shall be of an age to govern. Oh! you have planned cunningly, and things look well for you, but I say that they shall not prosper.
"The curse is on you, Ignatio, Lord of the Heart, for all your high–built hopes shall fall like a rotted roof, and never shall the eagles of that empire you have dreamed of be broidered on your banners. Slaves are the people you have toiled for, and slaves they shall remain, for by the crime to which you gave consent, Ignatio, you have riveted their fetters. The curse is on your child, Maya—never shall it live to become a man: the curse is on your husband—his hair shall not grow grey. But heaviest of all does the curse rest upon you, false Lady of the Heart, you, whose life is one long lie; you, who forsook your faith and broke your oath; you, who turned you from your people and from the law of your high and ancient house, that you might win a wandering white man to your arms. Woman, we shall meet no more; but in the hour of your last misery, and in the long, long ages of the eternal punishment, remember the words that I speak to you to–day"—and, shaking his withered arm in our faces, Mattai turned and limped from the chamber.