“For the love of God, fly,” I whispered. “In a few hours it will be over with me, and you cannot help me. I am a dead man, do not stop here to share my fate.”
For a moment he seemed to hesitate, then his courage came back to him, and he answered hoarsely:
“We entered this place together, friend, and we will go out together, or not at all. You must be fixed by the rock and not crushed, or you would not speak of living for hours. Let me look,” and he lay upon his breast and examined the fallen rock by the light of the candle. “Thank God! there is hope,” he said at last, “the boulder rests on the ground and upon the stone against which I struck my leg, for only one point of it is fixed in your back. Do you think that anything is broken, Ignatio?”
“I cannot say, señor, my pain is great, and I am being slowly crushed to death; but I believe that as yet my bones are whole. Fly, I beg of you.”
“I will not,” he answered sullenly, “I am going to roll this rock off you.”
Then, lifting with all his great strength, he strove to move the stone, but without avail, for it was beyond the power of mortal man to stir it, and all the while the black mass trembled above his head.
“I must go for help,” he said, presently.
“Yes, yes, señor,” I answered, “go for help;” for I knew well that before he could return with any, more of the roof would have fallen, shutting me in to perish by inches, or perhaps crushing the life out of me in mercy. Then I remembered, and added:
“Stay a moment before you go; you are noble, I will give you something. Feel here round my neck, there is a little chain—now, draw it over my head—so. You see a token hangs to it; if ever you are in trouble with the Indians, take their chief man apart and show him this, and he will die for you if need be.
“Englishman, by this gift I have made you heir to the empire of the Aztecs in the heart of every Indian, and the master of the great brotherhood of Mexico. Molas, the messenger, will tell you all and bring you to those who can initiate you. Bid him lead you whither he would have led me. Farewell, and God go with you. Tell the Indians how I died, that they may not think that you have murdered me.”