‘Still some have seen you and it is reported that you are my wife.’
‘It is likely enough,’ she answered, ‘for it was known throughout the Aztec hosts, and such secrets cannot be kept. But why have they treated you thus? Because you fought against them?’
‘Are we alone?’ I asked.
‘The guard is without, but there are none else in the chamber.’
‘Then bend down your head and I will tell you,’ and I told her all.
When I had done so she sprang up with flashing eyes and her hand pressed upon her breast, and said:
‘Oh! if I loved you before, now I love you more if that is possible, who could suffer thus horribly and yet be faithful to the fallen and your oath. Blessed be the day when first I looked upon your face, O my husband, most true of men. But they who could do this–what of them? Still it is done with and I will nurse you back to health. Surely it is done with, or they had not suffered me to come to you?’
‘Alas! Otomie, I must tell all–it is NOT done with,’ and with faltering voice I went on with the tale, yes, and since I must, I told her for what purpose she had been brought here. She listened without a word, though her lips turned pale.
‘Truly,’ she said when I had done, ‘these Teules far surpass the pabas of our people, for if the priests torture and sacrifice, it is to the gods and not for gold and secret hate. Now, husband, what is your counsel? Surely you have some counsel.’
‘I have none that I dare offer, wife,’ I groaned.
‘You are timid as a girl who will not utter the love she burns to tell,’ Otomie answered with a proud and bitter laugh. ‘Well, I will speak it for you. It is in your mind that we must die to- night.’
‘It is,’ I said; ‘death now, or shame and agony to-morrow and then death at last, that is our choice. Since God will not protect us, we must protect ourselves if we can find the means.’
‘God! there is no God. At times I have doubted the gods of my people and turned to yours; now I renounce and reject Him. If there were a God of mercy such as you cling to, could He suffer that such things be? You are my god, husband, to you and for you I pray, and you alone. Let us have done now with pleading to those who are not, or who, if they live, are deaf to our cries and blind to our misery, and befriend ourselves. Yonder lies rope, that window has bars, very soon we can be beyond the sun and the cruelty of Teules, or sound asleep. But there is time yet; let us talk a while, they will scarcely begin their torments before the dawn, and ere dawn we shall be far.’
So we talked as well as my sufferings would allow. We talked of how we first had met, of how Otomie had been vowed to me as the wife of Tezcat, Soul of the World, of that day when we had lain side by side upon the stone of sacrifice, of our true marriage thereafter, of the siege of Tenoctitlan and the death of our first- born. Thus we talked till midnight was two hours gone. Then there came a silence.
‘Husband,’ said Otomie at last in a hushed and solemn voice, ‘you are worn with suffering, and I am weary. It is time to do that which must be done. Sad is our fate, but at least rest is before us. I thank you, husband, for your gentleness, I thank you more for your faithfulness to my house and people. Shall I make ready for our last journey?’
‘Make ready!’ I answered.
Then she rose and soon was busy with the ropes. At length all was prepared and the moment of death was at hand.
‘You must aid me, Otomie,’ I said; ‘I cannot walk by myself.’
She came and lifted me with her strong and tender arms, till I stood upon a stool beneath the window bars. There she placed the rope about my throat, then taking her stand by me she fitted the second rope upon her own. Now we kissed in solemn silence, for there was nothing more to say. Yet Otomie said something, asking: