The Greatest Works of Fergus Hume - 22 Mystery Novels in One Edition. Fergus Hume
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Truxillo in The Bohemian, but on observing that he would feel more at ease regarding the navigation of the vessel if Philip commanded her, the baronet promptly decided to go. It was a good thing for Peter that old Benker had not heard this reflection on his seamanship, else he would have been much displeased. At all events, Peter, by artfully putting the matter in this light, secured Philip for his companion, and the yacht had departed the previous day for Honduras. She was expected back in four days, and Philip determined on his return voyage to stand in close to the shore of Janjalla, and assure himself of the result of the expedition against The Cortes.
Jack made his appearance in the patio in the company of Cocom, whose presence he required in the delicate proposal he had to make. He intended to appeal to the superstitious side of the Indian character, and wanted Cocom to back up his opinion so as to induce Don Miguel to give his consent to an experiment he desired to attempt connected with the harlequin opal. Don Miguel was on the azotea smoking endless cigarettes, and glancing over some papers relating to the Civil Government. His secretary was present, but when Duval appeared, the President sent him below with the documents, and received Jack and his factotum alone. Jack took a seat by the President, and Cocom, rolling a cigarette, squatted on the floor, wrapped in his zarape.
“Where is the Señor Correspoñsal?” asked Don Miguel, solemnly, after the first greetings had passed between them.
“At the Puerta de la Culebra,” replied Jack, taking the cigar offered to him by the old gentleman. “I asked him to wait there, Señor, as in an hour or so the peon sent by your Excellency to Chichimec is expected back.”
“Bueno! But what news do you expect by the peon?”
“News that the Indians contemplate an advance on Tlatonac!”
“Por todos Santos! Don Juan, such a thing cannot be. The Indians would not dare to so insult the majesty of the Republic.”
Jack privately thought the majesty of the Republic had been pretty well insulted already, but wisely refrained from giving voice to such an opinion.
“The Indians, Excelencia!” he said, smoothly, “are, according to trustworthy reports, six thousand strong, and thus think themselves a match for even the capital of Cholacaca. They have reduced Puebla de los Naranjos to ashes, they have sacked Chichimec without hindrance, and, excited by such victories, have rashly determined to attack Tlatonac on their own account without waiting for the arrival of Xuarez.”
“Do you really think they will dare to camp under our walls?” asked Don Miguel, still incredulous.
“I really do think so, Excelencia,” replied Jack, frankly. “If you think I am too rash in pronouncing such an opinion, question our friend Cocom. He has already rendered great services to you and to the Republic. Therefore, you must know that he speaks truth. Speak to him, Señor.”
The President turned his eyes towards the old Indian, who, impassive as an idol, sat at his feet smoking a cigarette. He answered Maraquando’s inquiring look with a grunt of assent to Jack’s remark.
“I am a true Indian, Excelencia! Of the Mayas I am, and my name is that of their kings. Cocom speaks now the truth. Don Xuarez is also an Indian, he comes from the hidden city of Totatzine. He has an understanding with the high-priest, Ixtlilxochitli. Don Hypolito said war, and the Chalchuih Tlatonac, through the priests of Huitzilopochtli, said war. Therefore are six thousand Indians in arms. Now the opal is in the possession of the enemies of the god—in Tlatonac, a city hated by Ixtlilxochitli and Xuarez. They have told their fighting men that this war is a holy war, for the recovery of the sacred shining stone. Were it not for the opal, the Indians would not dare to come to Tlatonac even with six thousand braves. But it is a holy war. They will dare anything to recover the sacred stone. Therefore will they come here, Excelencia, and camp under your walls. This is the truth, I swear by the shrine of the Holy Mother of God.”
“It might be so,” said Maraquando, musingly; “the opal is in Tlatonac, without doubt. My niece has it in her chamber, and knowing how sacred the Indians hold the gem, I doubt but that they will fight boldly to gain it again for the hidden shrine of their God, Huitzilopochtli.”
“Assuredly, Don Miguel. And to gain it they will come to Tlatonac.”
“That must not be!” cried the President, emphatically; “I will send an army against them, and encounter their host at Chichimec.”
“With what result, Señor? Even if you conquered, the victory would cost you many men, and thus would your army be weakened to encounter Xuarez.”
“True, true! Don Juan. But what then is to be done.”
“Let the Indian army come to Tlatonac. Let them camp under the walls. Close the gates of the city, and make no hostile sign.”
“What say you, Señor?” said Maraquando, in a fiery tone. “Would you have me leave this savage foe in peace till joined by Don Hypolito—by the rebel Xuarez?”
“They will not be joined by Xuarez, Don Miguel. When the rebels arrive, they will find no savage allies under the walls of Tlatonac.”
“If it could be so, it would be well. But how, Señor, do you propose to make this savage army vanish without a blow?”
“By means of the Chalchuih Tlatonac.”
“I do not understand, mi amigo. Explain, if you will be so gracious. I am all attention.”
Jack began to explain without further preamble.
“Observe, Excelencia,” he said slowly, so that Don Miguel could have no difficulty in following his reasons, “It is now noon—this night, if I mistake not, the Indian army will come to Tlatonac——”
“Bueno!” interrupted Cocom, nodding his head like a mandarin, “I have heard this thing spoken with many tongues. Your messenger, Excelencia, will confirm what I say. The Indian army will march this night for Tlatonac. At dawn will you see them encamped round the walls.”
“Proceed, Don Juan,” said the President, gravely.
“As you can see, Señor Maraquando,” pursued Jack, emphasising his remarks with his finger, “the savages will not arrive till night, so as it is now but noon, we will have time to make ready for their arrival.”
“Dios! You said make no preparations!”
“Not hostile preparations! No, Señor; listen, I pray you. We have the Chalchuih Tlatonac, the properties of which are regarded with superstitious reverence by the Indians. What the opal commands they will do. When it glows red, they prepare for war. Let an azure ray shine, and they know that the god commands peace, and, at whatever cost, will lay down their arms.”
“How is this done, this glowing of red, of blue?”
“I will explain, Señor. In the hidden city I saw it. The opal hung by a golden thread before the shrine of Huitzilopochtli, and this thread was twisted in a certain way by the priests. By careful calculation, they could tell how far it would untwist, so that the opal stone depended motionless, showing the colour they wished. If they desired war, the red side of the stone revealed itself—if peace the blue. To prophesy plenty, the yellow ray came to the front, and so on with all the tints.”
“Then you say, Don Juan, that if these Indians saw the opal glowing blue, they would lay down their arms?”
“Assuredly, Señor! and withdraw at once to Totatzine, leaving Xuarez to meet the forces of the Junta alone. If the stone glows blue, they know it is the will of the god that they should not fight.”
Don Miguel smiled incredulously.
“I doubt, Señor, whether these warriors, flushed with the sacking of Puebla de los Naranjos and Chichimec would obey the stone now, even though it glowed blue and thus proclaimed peace.”
“Excelencia!” broke in Cocom, earnestly, “you know, not the power of the Chalchuih Tlatonac. I, Señor am a good Catholic. I believe not in