"Here alone stands a fortune," he cried, as his eye lit upon the gems set aside by the avaricious Alvarez. "All picked for me by the very man who attempted to rob us of this spoil. Gather them together, Tamba, and tie them in a corner of the curtain. I will select some of the gold vessels, for they will convince those at home of the truth of our tale. That is, should we have the fortune to return. Now, the curtain and the shirts. Quick, for there is little time to waste."
"They are here, my lord. I will enter and help to hand them out. But hark!"
"The horn!" Roger shouted, as the plaintive note which, on a former day, had roused the Mexicans to fight for their king, came to his ear. "The signal for all who are left to retreat to the landing-stage."
"And for us to go also, my lord. Quick! Gather the jewels and let us go, otherwise we shall be killed, and then what service will this trash do you?"
They worked as if every second were of the utmost value, as indeed it was. The curtain was spread on the ground, and handfuls of gems tossed in, while Tamba had already tied some of the largest into a corner. Then Roger threw a few of the finest gold cups and bowls into the heap, while the priest added the disc.
"Let the picture which holds the secret go too," he said bitterly. "Who knows? In years to come it may be the only sample of our writing which remains. It may outlive this fallen nation."
"Pick up the curtain," cried Roger, and in a moment Tamba had it on his back, and was climbing through the opening. Then came the priest with the shirt of the unfortunate Alvarez, while Roger followed with his own jerkin well laden. They had as much now as they could well carry, and the addition of another load, which was fetched by one of the natives, completed their burden.
"To the stage," said Roger, shortly. "And, priest, can we trust these men?"
"They will die rather than break their promise to me, or harm you," was the answer. "You have the Spaniards alone to fear. Forward, and let us get out of this awful city. The ruins strike grief into my mind. I would that I had been killed at the commencement rather than live to see this fair place levelled in ruins. Forward to the stage."
They staggered down the stairs, out through the garden, and then by a little-known corridor through the palace. Then they had to traverse a few streets before reaching the landing-stage. Thousands of natives were about, but these took no notice of the party, seeing their comrades with it. Soon the stage was in sight, and Roger gave vent to a cry of dismay.