“Then I came on to this village, and arrived here to-night, having been a month and two days on my journey. And now, lord, if you can, give me a place to sleep in, since I am weary, who for three days have scarcely shut my eyes. To-morrow you can let me know what answer I must bear to the old man, Zibalbay.”
* * * * * * *
I, Ignatio, sat late that night pondering over these tidings, which filled me with a strange hope. Could it be that my hour of success was at hand after so many years of waiting? If there were truth in prophecies it would seem so, and yet my faith wavered. This traveller, whom Molas had seen, might be a madman, and his symbol might be forged. I could not tell, but at least I would put the matter to the proof, for to-morrow, or so soon as was possible, I would journey down to Chiapas and seek him out.
Thinking thus, I threw myself upon my bed and strove to sleep, but could not. Then, remembering the scroll that my friend had given me, I rose, purposing to change my thoughts in studying it and so win sleep. It was a hard task, but at length I mastered its meaning, and found that it dealt with a mine near Cumarvo, and described the exact position of the mouth of the tunnel.
This mouth, it would appear, had been closed up in the reign of Guatemoc, and the scroll was written by the cacique who had charge of the mine in those days, in order that a record might remain that would enable his descendants to reopen it, should a time come when the Spaniards were driven from the land. That the mine was very rich in free gold was shown by the weights of pure metal stated in this scroll to have been sent year by year to the Court of Montezuma by this cacique, and also by the fact that it was thought worth hiding from the Spaniards.
Early on the morrow I went to the room of the Señor Strickland and spoke to him with a heavy heart.
“Señor,” I said, “you will remember that when I entered your service I told you that I might have to leave it at any moment. Now I am here to say that the time is come, for a messenger has arrived to summon me to the other end of Mexico upon business of which I may not speak, and to-morrow I must start upon the journey.”
“I am sorry to hear it, Ignatio,” he answered, “for you have been a good friend to me. Still, you do well to separate your fortunes from those of an unlucky man.”
“And you, señor, do ill to speak thus to me,” I answered with indignation; “still, I forgive you because I know that at times, when the heart is sore, the mouth utters words that are not meant. Listen, señor, when you have eaten your breakfast, will you take a ride with me?”
“Certainly, if you like. But whither do you wish to ride?”