“I must look on his face first, woman,” he answered, dragging aside my arm. “By the gods, I thought so! This is that Teule whom we dealt with yesterday and who escapes.”
“You are mad,” she said laughing. “He has escaped from nowhere, save from a brawl and a drinking bout.”
“You lie, woman, or if you do not lie, you know nothing. This man has the secret of Montezuma’s treasure, and is worth a king’s ransom,” and he lifted his club.
“And yet you wish to slay him! Well, I know nothing of him. Take him back whence he came. He is but a drunken sot and I shall be well rid of him.”
“Well said. It would be foolish to kill him, but by bearing him alive to the lord Sarceda, I shall win honour and reward. Come, help me.”
“Help yourself,” she answered sullenly. “But first search his pouch; there may be some trifle there which we can divide.”
“Well said, again,” he answered, and kneeling down he bent over me and began to fumble at the fastenings of the pouch.
Otomie was behind him. I saw her face change and a terrible light came into her eyes, such a light as shines in the eyes of the priest at sacrifice. Quick as thought she drew the sword from the grass and smote with all her strength upon the man’s bent neck. Down he fell, making no sound, and she also fell beside him. In a moment she was on her feet again, staring at him wildly—the naked sword in her hand.
“Up,” she said, “before others come to seek him. Nay, you must.”
Now, again we were struggling forward through the bushes, my mind filled with a great wonder that grew slowly to a whirling nothingness. For a while it seemed to me as though I were lost in an evil dream and walking on red hot irons in my dream. Then came a vision of armed men with lifted spears, and of Otomie running towards them with outstretched arms.