"They are looking for it, Señor, and for your body—in the bed of the torrent."
"I'm afraid they will be disappointed with the result of their search. So they think we are dead?"
"Yes, Señor. You are safe from pursuit; but I am not."
"What do you mean?"
Cocom withdrew his left arm from the fold of his zarape. The hand was cut off, and nothing remained but the stump of the wrist, seared with hot-iron. A hideous object. Dolores cried out, and hid her face in her hands with a shudder. Jack at once understood why Cocom had acquiesced so calmly in the theft of the opal.
"Behold, Señor!" said the old man, shaking the mutilated wrist at Jack, with a look of hatred; "this was my punishment for suffering you to escape. My hand was cut off before Huitzilopochtli, and burned with red-hot iron. Then I was shut up in prison, to wait till the god's will was known."
"My poor Cocom!" cried Jack, much distressed, "how you have suffered for aiding us. Thank Heaven you have escaped!"
"Yes, Señor. Ixtlilxochitli did not think I could leave the city; but in the night I got out of the window of my prison, and followed you down the secret way. With all my strength I followed, but I feel sure that the hounds of the priests are on my track."
"But as Ixtlilxochitli knows you are not aware of the secret way, he——"
"Señor," interrupted Cocom, vehemently, "he must know it now. After the discovery of the cañon, guards were placed there. I have left the city. One other way only could I have gone—the secret way. Believe me, Señor, the Indians are not far behind."