"Ah, Totatzine has lost its mysterious charm of the unknown. I'll turn it into a resort for invalids, or a Central American Monte Carlo. Where Huitzilopochtli was worshipped, future generations will adore the goddess of play."
"At that rate, you will still have victims offered at the shrine," said Philip, grimly; "but, after all, Jack, it was a pity we lost the opal."
"Can it not be found again?" asked Dolores, who deeply regretted the vanished jewel.
Jack shook his head.
"I am afraid not. Xuarez threw it into the torrent. Heaven only knows in what profound depths it now lies. Perhaps it is best so. While it was on earth, it caused nothing but trouble, from the time it was in the possession of Montezuma, to the death of Xuarez."
"Now it is lost, I suppose the superstition will die out!"
"Superstition dies hard. All kinds of legends will grow up about that famous gem. It will still be remembered for many years, the more especially as Tlatonac is still, and ever shall be, the City of the Opal."
"And Dolores is still the guardian of the opal," said Eulalia, pensively.
"A guardian of a stone that has now no existence," replied Dolores, laughing; "but, after all, I had rather the jewel was lost than my Juan."
"Ah, Dolores!" said Jack, with a sad smile, "had it not been for the Señor Correspoñsal, your Juan would have been lost."