No sound save the complaining of the restless wind broke the stillness of the night, which had grown blacker as its age increased. Suddenly de Sancerre, as agile as a cat, sprang forward, barely in time to escape the clutch of remorseless arms. Turning, like a thunderbolt he drove his sword through a white-robed night-prowler, who died at his feet without a groan. So sudden and noiseless had been the attack and its fatal defence that it had not recalled Doña Julia to the entrance to the hut. On the instant, old Noco grasped de Sancerre by the arm, and, turning in anger, the Frenchman found himself confronted by Coheyogo.
“I’ve killed another snake, señora!” exclaimed de Sancerre, grimly, pointing to a white mass at his feet. “Will you say to the chief priest, Doña Noco, that I should more highly prize his friendship if he kept his temple priests from off my back?”
Coheyogo muttered a few words to the aged interpreter.
“The man you’ve slain has been rebellious and deserves his fate. He disobeyed a strict command,” said Noco, repeating the chief priest’s curt comment. “He’ll place a guard of trusty priests before the door of Coyocop, that you and I may seek the Great Sun’s side.”
“How kind he is!” muttered do Sancerre, petulantly. “A pretty plight this is for a Count of Languedoc! I’m tired of this Coheyogo’s domineering ways! But still, I dare not cross him now. Come, señora,” he exclaimed in Spanish, turning toward the King’s cabin and groping his way through the black night. “I trust my sword will find no more to do to-night! It has had a busy day!”
CHAPTER XXII
IN WHICH THE CITY OF THE SUN ENJOYS A FÊTE
The moon of strawberries had been succeeded by the moon of old corn, and there was joy in the land of the sun-worshippers. In other words, the month of April had gone by and the month of May had found the Great Sun’s grateful subjects making ready to celebrate his restoration to health by national games and a thanksgiving feast.
The laggard weeks had told many a flattering tale of hope to Count Louis de Sancerre, but at the end of a month’s sojourn in the City of the Sun he still found himself, in all essential particulars, a helpless stranger in a fickle and jealous land, honored by the Great Sun and the chief priest, and admired by the people, but closely watched by sharp black eyes, from which flashed gleams of malice and suspicion. Impatient and impetuous though he was, the Frenchman dared not force the issue to a crisis. Easy of accomplishment as the kidnapping of Coyocop seemed to be, de Sancerre realized that he would rush to certain death if he took a false step and attempted a rescue hampered by his ignorance of the surrounding country and of the movements of Sieur de la Salle. Day succeeded day and no word came from the river to the pale and haggard Frenchman, whose only joy in life during those dreary weeks sprang from the voice of Julia de Aquilar, which reached his grateful ears now and then as he prowled around her cabin late at night. Even this source of delight he was obliged to forego after a time, receiving from the chief priest a broad hint regarding the dangers which menaced a stranger in the town after dark, and learning from Noco that Coheyogo had discovered in the temple the existence of a fanatical faction among the sun-priests which had sworn to overcome de Sancerre’s moon-magic by physical force.
But it was Cabanacte’s failure to return from his quest of Katonah that had wound the strongest cord around the Frenchman’s hands. Could he have had the giant’s assistance at this crisis, de Sancerre felt confident that any one of a number of schemes which he had been obliged to reject for lack of an ally could have been forced to the goal of success. But Cabanacte had disappeared, had made no further sign, and old Noco, to whom her grandson was as an open book, had said sadly to de Sancerre that the youth would not return.
The restless and wellnigh discouraged Frenchman had, through his success as a physician, won the enthusiastic gratitude of the Great Sun, who had insisted upon making his Brother of the Moon the honored guest of the royal cabin, within which de Sancerre was compelled, much against his will, to spend the major portion of the time, talking to the convalescent king by the aid of Noco’s nimble tongue.