“Make hurry, quick!” sharply interposed Ixtli, as ominous sounds began to arise without the Temple of the Sun God. “Dog git 'way, howl for more. Come here—kill like gods be glad.”
With an evident effort Victo rallied, tones far from steady as she begged both young men to save themselves without thought of them.
“I thank you; heaven alone knows how overjoyed I am to hear from my dear husband,—my poor child's own father! And he is near, to—But go, go! Guide and protect him, Ixtli, for—Go, I implore you, sir!”
“But how—we haven't arranged how you are to be rescued, and I must understand—”
“Later, then; another time, through Ixtli,” interrupted Mrs. Edgecombe, since there could no longer be a doubt as to her identity. “If found here 'twill be our ruin as well as your own. Go, and at once I fear that Lord Hua may—”
“He 'live yet,” pronounced Ixtli, rising from a hasty examination o f the fallen chieftain. “Dat bad; much more worse bad! He dog; all over dog!”
“And I greatly fear he must have recognised you as one of a foreign race, in spite of your disguise,” added the elder woman, trouble in her face even as it showed in her voice. “He will be wild for revenge, and I fear—Go, and directly, Ixtli!”
Bruno Gillespie was only too well assured that this latest fear had foundation on truth. Swiftly though he had wielded the awkward (to him) hand-wood, Huatzin had sufficient time to sight his assailant, and almost certainly had divined at least a portion of the truth.
Doubtless it would have been the more prudent course to repeat that blow with greater precision; but Bruno could not bring himself to do just that, even though the ugly cries were growing in volume on the ground level; and he felt that capture would be but the initial step to death, in all likelihood upon the great stone of sacrifice.
Imminent though their peril surely was, Bruno could not betake himself to flight without at least partially performing the duty for which he had volunteered; and so he took time to hurriedly utter: