Jack stood on the edge of the platform, looking in silent horror at the fate of the rebel leader, when he heard his name cried out loudly, and turned to see Peter hurrying towards him with a face of horror.
"Jack! Jack! Tim!"
"Tim!" echoed Jack, with a pang of fear, "is he wounded?"
"He is dead."
Jack waited to hear no more, but, followed by Peter, raced back to the teocalli. With the fall of the shrine had fallen the city, and Jack, crossing the square untouched, ran up the staircase rapidly. There, on the summit, supported in Philip's arms, with Philip's tears dropping on his dead face, lay Tim, merry-hearted Tim, whom they all loved so truly.
"Oh, Tim!" cried Jack, with a burst of anguish, and fell on his knees beside the dead body.
Below the tumult continued, the incense still rolled upward; but the last sacrifice had taken place in the teocalli of Totatzine, and Tim was the victim.
CHAPTER XII.
FAREWELL, TLATONAC.
Let us sail eastward, where the sun
Slow rises o'er the crimson wave,