Prisoners of Chance - Part 30
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Part 30

"Oh, nothing, nothing, Madame," and I threw into the utterance of these words all the irony possible. "It is not altogether strange Madame should forget acquaintances of other days, even her native tongue, living so long in the wilderness."

It was a reckless shot, but somehow it struck the mark.

"I am a Toltec!" she cried wildly. "You speak to the Daughter of the Sun."

"No doubt; 'tis a neat superst.i.tion with which to overawe savages, yet there was one once across the water greatly resembling you,--a bit younger, perhaps,--yet who was content then with a t.i.tle not nearly so high-sounding, until--oh, well, what need to tell the rest? Of course, it was not you?"

I would never have believed so sudden a change could come over the countenance of a human being, had I not witnessed it with these eyes.

She had sunk back against the couch, her hands pressing her breast as if to still the wild throbbing of the heart, her great eyes staring at me in silent horror. Twice her lips moved as if attempting speech, yet no articulated sound issued from between them.

"Are you a fiend from h.e.l.l?" she sobbed at last. "Why have you pursued me here?"

"You do me far too great an honor." I made her a low bow, thoroughly confident I held the whip hand, provided only I did not overplay my part. "It is the merest accident of fate which has thus thrown me again across your path. Nor have I the slightest desire to cause you trouble, only that through your power may come our safety."

"You--you have not followed me, then?"

"No."

I saw she was diligently studying my face in the dim light, vainly endeavoring to recall where, under what circ.u.mstances, we had met before.

"Who are you?"

"Bah! what difference can a name make? Surely you are careless enough about your own to be lenient with another choosing to forget."

"You also are a fugitive?" I caught the sudden ring of hope in her voice, saw a new light flash into her eyes.

"I have fled the Spaniards," I answered carelessly enough. "What odds is that, so long as what I did has been for France? Still, as I say, I have no desire to play you harm provided you deal justly with us all."

"Harm? You? How could you harm me?" she questioned, evidently more at ease from the change in my tone of speech. "You presume, senor; surely you forget you address the Queen of the Nahuacs; that even in our remnant there remain more than a hundred warriors to do my bidding! I can laugh at threats, senor."

I stared at her coldly.

"As you please, Madame _la reine_ Naladi, Daughter of the Sun, formerly woman of--ah! so you do not care for me to speak that accursed word?

Well, I thought you might not, so I spare you the shame. 'T is nothing to me your past, yet I would have you remember there is a people we both know to whom your miserable horde of savages would be but a mouthful. This tribe has already tested the sharpness of the French sword."

Her troubled eyes fell before mine, the last faint gleam of defiance dying from her face. She glanced about the apartment, evidently meditating retreat from my presence, or the swift summoning of her guards. Whichever it might have been, she as evidently thought better of it, turning toward me once more, no longer a frightened, angry Amazon, but instead a smiling, pleasant-faced woman.

"We have surely jested long enough, senor," she exclaimed with apparent lightness of demeanor. "It can never be best for us to be other than good friends. I doubt not you are a bold man, loyal to those trusting you, and I honor you for it. Take me, also, into that charmed circle, yet never forget I am a woman capable of doing great harm if I choose, for I have those at my command here who would die gladly at my bidding.

The threat of French vengeance moves me little, senor; France is strong, cruel, relentless; but France is not here."

"Quite true," I replied, feeling best now to permit her to enjoy her own way. "But France never forgets, never pardons, and France possesses arms which reach across the seas, even into this wilderness.

All she needs is a guide, and I could become that. Yet if you grant my request I pledge that no words of mine shall result in your injury."

"Your half threat does not greatly trouble me, senor. I am no frail reed fearing a puff of air. I merely seek that duty which seems most fair to all concerned. Pray tell me then what it is you would ask at my hands. Nay, wait; before we go into this business be seated here, so we may more easily converse together."

It was a low stool beside the couch she indicated, and I could do no less than silently accept her courtesy, the soft, mysterious charm of the woman blunting my prejudice.

"Now, senor," an engaging smile rendering more beautiful the face turned toward me. "I pray you trust me fully, and state frankly your demands upon Naladi."

If slightest sarcasm lurked in these softly spoken words I acknowledge total oblivion to it. Her fair face was the picture of earnestness, her eyes gazed frankly into mine.

"Our release, Madame."

She lifted her white hands in a sudden gesture of expostulation.

"Why ask that? It is utterly beyond my power, senor--at least, at once," in a tone of despair, convincing me she spoke truly. "We have our laws, which must be obeyed. It was the tribe who in battle took you prisoners, not I; it would cost me my position did I endeavor to give you immediate release."

"Could it be accomplished later?"

"Possibly it might."

"Will you promise me it shall?"

She hesitated, her eyes downcast, her bosom rising and falling to tumultuous breathing.

"Yes," at last slowly, as if she had weighed the problem with care. "I will pledge you my utmost help to that end."

"There is one thing more, Queen Naladi," I contended earnestly. "It is that Madame de Noyan be permitted meanwhile to abide with her husband."

The fair face darkened ominously. Instead of immediately answering she stepped across the room; returning, she held in her hands a small box in which I perceived papers.

"One moment, senor; move your stool here; yes, a trifle to the left where we may have clearer light shed upon these doc.u.ments."

I drew it unsuspectingly to the spot indicated by her gesture, bending forward, wondering what it might be of importance she held in her hands.

"This, senor," she began calmly, slightly unrolling a written sheet, "is, as you will easily comprehend, the very doc.u.ment causing my unfortunate exile in this wilderness. You will take notice--"

As she spoke, I felt myself falling. She sprang hastily back, barely in time to escape my frenzied clutch upon her draperies; for one instant I clung to the stone slab of the floor desperately. Then she laughed, her heel crunched on my gripping fingers, and, with one m.u.f.fled cry of despair, I went plunging down into the blackness.

CHAPTER XXIX

IN AND OUT THE SHADOW

It is strange I remember so little from that instant when my tortured hands released their frantic grasp on the stone slab of the floor. I recall the sharp pain, as that fair-faced fiend stamped upon my clutching fingers; I heard the echo of sneering laughter with which she mocked my last upward look of agony, but, with the plunge downward into that black, unknown abyss, all clear recollection ceased--I even retain no memory of the severe shock which must have occurred as my fall ended. Whether excess of fear paralyzed the brain, or what may have been the cause for such a phenomenon, I know not. I merely state the fact.

I awoke--how much later G.o.d alone knows--lying upon the rough stone bottom of an awful well, huddled in its blackness. When I finally made attempt at straightening my cramped limbs it seemed as if each separate muscle had been beaten and bruised, and it required no little manipulation before I even recovered sufficient strength to stand upright and endeavor to ascertain the nature of my grewsome prison-house. My stiffness caused me to believe that I must have lain motionless for several hours in the same cramped position into which I fell, before even regaining consciousness. Another evidence of this was the blood which, having flowed copiously from a severe cut upon the back of my head, had so thoroughly hardened as to stanch the ugly wound, thus, perhaps, preserving my life.

Slowly I returned to a clear realization of my position, for my eyes opened upon such intense darkness I could scarcely comprehend in my weakened, dazed condition that it was not all a dream from which I was yet to awaken. Little by little the mind began a.s.serting itself, vaguely feeling here and there, putting sc.r.a.p with sc.r.a.p, until returning memory poured in upon me like a flood, and I grasped the terrible truth that I was buried alive. The knowledge was a deathlike blow, with which I struggled desperately, seeking to regain control over my shattered nerves. I recall yet the frenzied laugh bursting from my lips--seemingly the lips of a stranger--ringing wild and hollow, not unlike the laughter of the insane; I remember tearing wide open the front of my doublet, feeling I must surely choke from the suffocating pressure upon my chest; I retain memory of glaring violently into the darkness; how I fondled the sharp edge of the hunting knife, crying and shouting impotent curses, which I trust G.o.d has long ago forgiven, at that incarnate devil who had hurled me down to such living death. Terror dominated my brain, pulsed like molten fire through my blood, until, as the desperation of my situation became more clearly defined, I tottered upon the very verge of insanity, feeling I should soon become a helpless, gibbering imbecile.

Yet, as I succeeded in staggering weakly to my feet, the movement and exertion served to quiet my apprehensions, while hope came faintly back, bringing with it, as though newly born, a determination never to yield without one manly struggle. I possessed a knife; perchance there might be discovered some opportunity for using it. With outspread hands, and groping feet, I attempted to advance, but found I had fallen so close to the centre of the well that I had to make several steps before my extended fingers touched the cold wall. This I followed slowly, pa.s.sing exploring hands with utmost care over each inch, from the floor to as high as I could reach on tiptoe, until confident I had made the complete circuit. It was all the same, vast slabs of flat stone, welded together by some rude yet effective masonry, the mortar between impervious to the sharp probing of the knife. Again and again I made that circuit, testing each crack, sounding every separate stone in the hope of discovering some slight fault in construction by which I might profit. Everywhere I was confronted by the same dull, dead wall of cold, hard rock, against which I exerted strength and skill uselessly. Finally I dropped upon my knees, creeping inch by inch across the floor, but with no better result. It likewise was composed of great slabs of stone, one having an irregular crack running through it from corner to corner, but all alike solid and immovable.

Then the last faint flicker of hope deserted me. Yet the exercise of that fruitless search had restored some measure of manhood; my brain no longer throbbed with dull agony, nor did my veins burn as with liquid fire. I felt convinced this black vault was destined to become my grave; here in after years, perhaps, some straying hunter might uncover my mouldering bones, wondering idly at my unknown story, for here I was surely doomed to face all that was mysterious and terrible in death.

Well, that end must come to me some time, as to all men; I had seen many die, and, although fate faced me in far more horrid guise than any of these others, yet after all it was merely death, and I had no more cause to fear it here in the dark than yonder in the sunshine.

Besides, I retained the keen knife-blade; if worse came to worse that was available for release. I pa.s.sed it caressingly through my fingers, wondering would G.o.d forgive its use if the moment came when I must choose between insanity and death.

Merciful Heaven! how time dragged! What awful conceptions were formed in my fevered brain! What leering, sardonic faces pictured themselves against the black wall; what demon voices spoke and laughed in the void above! At times I stood in a cave thronged with jeering devils, some with the savage countenance of the heathen, some yet more satanic; yet ever in the midst of their maddest orgies, the cruel mockery of the infamous Naladi appeared more h.e.l.lish than that of the rest. She leered down upon me from every side until I seemed to stare into a thousand faces, each wearing her hateful, sardonic smile.