A sound of approaching feet disturbed her, and she ran across to the gate; at once the purpose which had held her silent on the azoteas, which prompted her ready acquiescence in the betrothal to Hualpa, which had sustained her in the passage of the lake, was revealed. She was seeking her lover to save him.
She would have passed through the gateway, but for a number of lances dropped with their points almost against her breast. What with fear of those behind and of those before her, she almost died. On the pavement, outside the entrance, she was lying when Alvarado came to the rescue. The guard made way for him quickly; for in his manner was the warning which nothing takes from words, not even threats; verily, it had been as well to attempt to hinder a leaping panther. He threw the lances up, and knelt by her, saying tenderly, “Nenetzin, Nenetzin, poor child! It is I,—come to save you!”
She half arose, and, smiling through her tears, clasped her hands, and cried, “Tonatiah! Tonatiah!”
There are times when a look, a gesture, a tone of the voice, do all a herald’s part. What need of speech to tell the Spaniard why the truant was there? The poor disguise, the basket, told of flight; her presence at that hour said, “I have come to thee”; the cross returned, the tears, the joy at sight of him, certified her love; and so, when she put her arm around his neck, and the arrow, not yet taken away, rattled against his corselet, to his heart there shot a pain so sharp and quick it seemed as if the very soul of him was going out.
He raised her gently, and carried her through the entrance. The rough men looking on saw upon his cheek what, if the cheek had been a woman’s, they would have sworn was a tear.
“Ho, Marina!” he cried to the wondering interpreter. “I bring thee a bird dropped too soon from the nest. The hunter hath chased the poor thing, and here is a bolt in its wing. Give place in thy cot, while I go for a doctor, and room with thee, that malice hurt not a good name.”
And at the sight the Indian woman was touched; she ran to the cot, smoothed the pillow of feathers, and said, “Here, rest her here, and run quickly. I will care for her.”
He laid her down tenderly, but she clung to his hand, and said to Marina, “He must not go. Let him first hear what I have to say.”
“But you are hurt.”
“It is nothing, nothing. He must stay.”