"Wait," said Roger, eagerly, while he curled himself up as if about to seek sleep once more. "What of the other English prisoners? They must be rescued."
"Impossible, my lord. The town swarms with natives and with Spaniards. Escape for you is well-nigh out of the question. For many it is hopeless."
"Listen," said Roger, sternly, as he buried his head in his arms again, as if he had done with the man. "These comrades of mine must be rescued. Bid Teotlili make arrangements to take them also. Say that it is my wish and my order, and that unless it is carried out I do not take advantage of their efforts. Now go. I shall be ready to-night when the time comes, but only if the others are taken also."
It was almost comical to watch the attendant's expression as the words reached his ear, strange words, too, for who amongst the natives ever heard of such a proposal? Here was a young man, condemned to die at sunrise, and he declined to be rescued unless comrades received help also. It was sheer madness, ingratitude almost to those who were taking such risks for him, and who well might fall victims themselves. His chin dropped, his eyes opened to the fullest extent of the lids, and he stared at Roger spellbound.
"Fool! The sentry will suspect," said our hero, sharply. "You heard the message and my determination. Then go, and bring me more food later on. I shall be hungry before the night comes, and a hungry man is weak. Besides, you may have news."
He shut his eyes as if already asleep, and when the sentry again passed the doorway he observed the prisoner lying still in the shade, and the attendant bearing the jar and the remains of the repast away, looking ruefully at his shins as he came.
"A clumsy fall," remarked the sentry. "In the days of Mexican power a tumble like that in the presence of so great a man might have led to trouble."
"It has done so now, comrade," was the answer. "My lord was asleep, and scolded me. But I am forgiven, though I cannot easily excuse myself. However, he sleeps again, and will continue to do so. It is a farce setting a watch over him when there are so many of us about and the walls are so high."
The sentry evidently cordially approved of this statement, for he continued his beat, grumbling at the task, at the heat of the sun, and at the fate which had set him there, pacing aimlessly up and down, when he might have been in his own house enjoying the society of his wife and children. As for the attendant, he sauntered along the street, carrying the jar, till he came to the end of the building, where he turned into a low doorway. Within he deposited the jar, and then stole softly to the back of the house. A flight of stone steps led to the roof, where there was a tower, and he proceeded to clamber to the summit of it. Once on the roof, he kept in a crouching position, and gradually raised his head to an aperture in the surrounding wall. There was a tower on another dwelling some yards away, and a man occupied that also, one of his comrades by his dress. But he, too, made every effort to keep away from the observation of those in the street below, and, beyond signalling his presence to his comrade who had just appeared, made no movement. Five minutes later, however, when the street was empty, and no one seemed to be approaching, he put his hands to his mouth, and called softly to his comrade, his voice easily penetrating to the other tower.
"What fortune?" he demanded in Spanish, and in tones which strangely resembled those of Tamba. "Is my lord well and unharmed? Speak, for if he has been hurt I will go at once to do the bidding of Teotlili. I will seek for this Malinché, and will throw myself on him, and slay him with my dagger."