Roger the Bold: A Tale of the Conquest of Mexico

by F. S. Brereton

"Then I will fetch food and water, master. Sit here till I return. I will go to our lodgings quietly, for it will be as well to see how our prisoners are behaving."

He was gone like a ghost again, for this native, accustomed from his childhood to hunting and life in the forest, and being barefooted, could pass from one spot to another without so much as a sound. Indeed, Roger had already learned much from him, for he had watched his methods in the forest, when he himself was too weak to do much more than stand or sit. Tamba had an eagle-like glance, an eye which detected everything and allowed nothing to pass. Even when creeping through the underwood in search of an enemy, he seemed to see the path at his knees as well as the forest ahead, and, as if intuitively, felt and removed the sticks and thorns in his way. It was an easy matter, therefore, for him to cross the tiled summit of the tower, and no one heard him, not even the prisoners, though the sound of the conflict had rendered them alert. Tamba crept to the new quarters which Roger had selected, and stared in cautiously. He found the noble diligently talking to the priest, and the latter nodding. As the native entered they both looked up, and it was plain from their innocent expressions that they had not been plotting.

"You have been successful again?" asked the noble. "Then I am glad," he added, as Tamba nodded; "for it is as well that my countrymen should learn soon that it is useless to fight with such a man. He bears a charmed life, and is truly a great lord, greater even than this Malinché (the native word for Cortes). Tell me, have many fallen, have many lost their lives?"

"None, I believe. We beat them back with swords and bricks. Many are hurt, but they will not die."

"I am glad," was the simple answer; "for then the people will be all the more ready to forgive, to forget the fighting, and accept this young lord as a friend. Did they but know the use that he will be to our arms, they would long ago have welcomed him with shouts of joy. But they thought him a Spaniard, just as I did, and the priest here also, and those we do not spare. Tell me how you met with this lord, and how it is that you are his servant."

Tamba hastened to tell the story, while he gathered food and took a bowl full of water.

"I will send my lord," he said, "and he will discuss this matter with you. He will be glad to talk."

A little later he appeared at Roger's side, and told him what had occurred.

"They are desirous of making peace," he said, beating his hands together to show his delight. "The priest thinks now that you are a mighty man, even as I do, my lord. Go to them. I said that you would come and talk this matter over. Perhaps when the morning comes our danger will have passed, and we shall become the friends of the Mexicans."

The news was excellent, almost too good to be true, and the relief to Roger was immense. He gulped down the food hastily, and emptied the bowl at a draught. Then he waited while Tamba went for a second supply, and having seen him posted at the head of the stairs, and given strict orders to him that he was to patrol round the terrace and watch every side, he slipped off to the little chamber in which the two Mexicans were seated, and pushed the curtain aside. Then he clambered over the forms which had been placed to barricade the door, and was in the act of seating himself when the noble and the priest rose to their feet. The latter had hunted out a tiny oil lamp, and this afforded sufficient light to show their features. Roger noticed with a thrill that the priest no longer scowled, and rubbed his elbows, as if to remind himself of his injuries. He made a deep obeisance, and spoke gravely.