XXXV.
THE TREASURE-CHAMBER.
Close in the wake of that great thunder-crash there burst upon us so mighty a flood of rain that it seemed as though the lightning had riven solid walls asunder within the thick black mass of overhanging vapour, and so had let loose upon us the waters of a lake. In a moment the whole pit of the amphitheatre was awash, knee-deep, and before those who were standing there could flounder to the steps leading upward they were buried to their waists—and this although the water was pouring out through the vent provided for it with such violence that we could hear the rush and gurgle of it above the dashing and roaring of the falling rain. And all the dark mass of cloud above us was aflame continuously with blinding flashes of red lightning, while a continuous crash of splitting peals of thunder rang through the shattered air.
Doubtless this storm was our salvation. That the Priest Captain's intention, even from the first, had been to kill us also, and so make his victory complete, I do not for a moment doubt; but he was too shrewd to waste upon a few terrified spectators an exhibition that would carry with it a salutary demonstration of his power; and with the bursting of the flood upon us, the crowd that filled the amphitheatre had begun a tumultuous flight to the temple; going thither partly for shelter, and partly being awe-struck by what had passed before them and by the tremendous fury of the storm, that they might find safety in the abiding-place of their gods.
Therefore, the order was given hurriedly that we should be taken back to our prison; in obedience to which command our guards led us through the temple—where they had difficulty in forcing a way for us through the dense throng that had gathered within its walls—and thence to the Treasure-house beyond; and they were in such haste to be quit of us, that they also might seek safety in the temple, that they scarce waited to close the grating behind us before they sped away.
So overwhelming was the grief that had fallen upon us that for some moments we stood as though stunned where the guards had left us; and, for myself, my one regret was that the chance of the storm, by saving me yet a little while longer alive, had lost to me the happiness of dying in the same hour with the friend whom I had so strongly loved. I think that this thought was in Young's heart also, as he stood there silent beside me, the blood so drawn away from his face that a dull yellow pallor overspread his bronzed skin, while his breath came short and hard. As for the boy Pablo, his whole being was shattered. He sank down on the rock at our feet, and seemed to be moaning his very life out in long quivering sobs.
But presently, as our minds grew steadier, the thought of Rayburn came to us; and the strain upon our heart-strings was relaxed a little by remembering that our lives still were worth holding fast to in order that we might minister to his needs. Yet when we came again into the room where he lay, it seemed at first as though he also was lost to us; for even in that faint light we saw that his face was a deadly white, and when we spoke to him he neither spoke nor moved. But, happily, our dread that he had died in that gloomy solitude was not realized; for as I laid my hand upon his bare breast I felt his heart feebly beating, and at the touch of my hand he sighed a little, and then slowly opened his eyes.
"He's only swounded," Young cried, joyfully. "It's th' smotherin' shut-upness o' this forlorn hole he's lyin' in. There's a little more air out in th' big room. Just grab t'other end o' th' stretcher, Professor, an' we'll yank him out there—nobody's likely t' come in t' stop us while this storm lasts. An'—an' we must be careful how we talk, Professor, y' know," he added, in a lower tone, as we raised the stretcher. "It won't do for him t' know about—about it now." There was a break in Young's voice as he spoke, and I could feel by the momentary quiver of the stretcher that a shiver went through him as he thought of that "it," about which we must for a time hold our peace.
Young bore the forward end of the stretcher, and as we came into the oratory I felt him start as he exclaimed, "What th' devil's broke loose here?"
The darkness of the storm outside shrouded the oratory in a dusky twilight; but even through the shadows which lay thick about us we could see that there had been within this chamber some outbreak of extraordinary and tremendous violence; for the image of the god Huitzilopochtli had been cast down and broken into fragments, and just behind where it had stood there was a dark rift in the gold-plating of the walls, where several plates had been wrenched bodily away.