Ah! we think much of the sorrows of our youth, and should a sweetheart give us the go by we fill the world with moans and swear that it holds no comfort for us. But when we bend our heads before the shrouded shape of some lost child, then it is that for the first time we learn how terrible grief can be. Time, they tell us, will bring consolation, but it is false, for such sorrows time has no salves–I say it who am old–as they are so they shall be. There is no hope but faith, there is no comfort save in the truth that love which might have withered on the earth grows fastest in the tomb, to flower gloriously in heaven; that no love indeed can be perfect till God sanctifies and completes it with His seal of death.
I threw myself down there upon the desolate snows of Xaca, that none had trod before, and wept such tears as a man may weep but once in his life days.
‘O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son!’ I cried with the ancient king–I whose grief was greater than his, for had I not lost three sons within as many years? Then remembering that as this king had gone to join his son long centuries ago, so I must one day go to join mine, and taking such comfort from the thought as may be found in it, I rose and crept back to the ruined City of Pines.
It was near sunset when I came thither, for the road was long and I grew weak. By the palace I met the Captain Diaz and some of his company, and they lifted their bonnets to me as I went by, for they had respect for my sorrows. Only Diaz spoke, saying:
‘Is the murderer dead?’
I nodded and went on. I went on to our chamber, for there I thought that I should find Otomie.
She sat in it alone, cold and beautiful as though she had been fashioned in marble.
‘I have buried him with the bones of his brethren and his forefathers,’ she said, answering the question that my eyes asked. ‘It seemed best that you should see him no more, lest your heart should break.’
‘It is well,’ I answered; ‘but my heart is broken already.’
‘Is the murderer dead?’ she said presently in the very words of Diaz.
‘He is dead.’
‘How?’
I told her in few words.
‘You should have slain him yourself; our son’s blood is not avenged.’
‘I should have slain him, but in that hour I did not seek vengeance, I watched it fall from heaven, and was content. Perchance it is best so. The seeking of vengeance has brought all my sorrows upon me; vengeance belongs to God and not to man, as I have learned too late.’
‘I do not think so,’ said Otomie, and the look upon her face was that look which I had seen when she smote the Tlascalan, when she taunted Marina, and when she danced upon the pyramid, the leader of the sacrifice. ‘Had I been in your place, I would have killed him by inches. When I had done with him, then the devils might begin, not before. But it is of no account; everything is done with, all are dead, and my heart with them. Now eat, for you are weary.’
So I ate, and afterwards I cast myself upon the bed and slept.
In the darkness I heard the voice of Otomie that said, ‘Awake, I would speak with you,’ and there was that about her voice which stirred me from my heavy sleep.
‘Speak on,’ I said. ‘Where are you, Otomie?’
‘Seated at your side. I cannot rest, so I am seated here. Listen. Many, many years ago we met, when you were brought by Guatemoc from Tobasco. Ah! well do I remember my first sight of you, the Teule, in the court of my father Montezuma, at Chapoltepec. I loved you then as I have loved you ever since. At least I have never gone astray after strange gods,’ and she laughed bitterly.