The Lost City [77]
gestures were coming thicker and faster their way.
Scores of other voices caught up the fierce cry given by the head priest, and now the temple was ringing throughout with demands that the false Sun Children should pay full penalty, should be haled to the sacrificial stone, there to purge themselves without further delay!
Others showed an inclination to favour the descendants of Quetzal', and thus the widely conflicting shouts and cries formed a medley which was fairly deafening.
For one of his fierce temper the Red Heron showed a marvellous coolness throughout that perilous retreat, and never more than during the first few seconds. Then a single injudicious word or too hasty movement might easily have precipitated a fight, where the vast audience would surely have brought disaster, whether the majority so willed or not.
Holding his men well in hand, moving only as rapidly as prudence justified, yet losing neither time nor ground, where both were of such vital importance; Aztotl forced a passage from the great Hall of Sacrifice down to the level, then out into the open air, where one could see and fight if needs be.
Through all this, Bruno Gillespie held the position he had taken, one hand gripping tightly his maquahuitl, but placing his main dependence upon the revolver which nestled conveniently within the folds of his sash, one nervous forefinger touching the curved trigger.
He could not help seeing that the danger was great. He felt certain that they could not retreat much farther without coming to blows, when the odds would be overwhelmingly against them. Yet never for an instant did he regret having taken such a decided step; not for one moment did he give thought to himself.
Almost within reach of his hand, if extended at the length of his arm, moved the fair maiden whose face and form had made so deep an impression upon his mind and his heart. She was in peril. She needed aid. That was enough!
Then the briefly stunned Tlacopa rushed forth from his desecrated temple, wildly flourishing his arms, furiously denouncing both the Sun Children and their body-guard, thundering forth the curses of all the gods upon the heads of those who refrained from arresting the evil ones.
"The mighty Mother of Gods calls for her own! Seize them! Strike down the impious dogs who dare attempt to defraud our Mother! Seize them! To the sacrifice--to the sacrifice!"
Equally loud of voice, the Prince Hua came leaping down to the sandy level, urging his people to the assault, offering almost fabulous sums as reward for the brave Aztec whose arm should lay yonder traitorous Red Heron prone in the dust.
The crisis came, and the dogs of war were let loose.
An arrow whizzed narrowly past the feathered helmet worn by the captain of the guards. A stone came humming out of sling, to be deftly dashed aside by Aztotl's shield ere it could fairly smite that gold-crowned head as, outwardly calm and composed, Victo aided her trembling daughter on towards the Temple of the Sun God, where alone they might look for safety.
But would it be found even there?
No! For, at savage howl from lips of the high priest, a strong force of armed redskins took up position at the teocalli, blocking each one of the four flights of stone steps in order to intercept the body-guard, while still closer pressed the yelling, screeching, frantic heathen of both sexes and all ages.
Aztotl saw how he had been flanked, but made no sign, even while slightly turning course for another temple at less distance, a single word being sufficient to post his true-hearts.
So far not a single blow had been struck by the retreating party, although great provocation had been given them. More than one of their number was bleeding, yet all were afoot, and still capable of holding ranks. Then--
Bravest of the brave, a man among men in spite of his tender years, Ixtli laid down his life in defence of his idolised Victo.
From one of that maddened rabble came a heavy stone, flung with all the power of a sinewy arm and great sling. Smitten
Scores of other voices caught up the fierce cry given by the head priest, and now the temple was ringing throughout with demands that the false Sun Children should pay full penalty, should be haled to the sacrificial stone, there to purge themselves without further delay!
Others showed an inclination to favour the descendants of Quetzal', and thus the widely conflicting shouts and cries formed a medley which was fairly deafening.
For one of his fierce temper the Red Heron showed a marvellous coolness throughout that perilous retreat, and never more than during the first few seconds. Then a single injudicious word or too hasty movement might easily have precipitated a fight, where the vast audience would surely have brought disaster, whether the majority so willed or not.
Holding his men well in hand, moving only as rapidly as prudence justified, yet losing neither time nor ground, where both were of such vital importance; Aztotl forced a passage from the great Hall of Sacrifice down to the level, then out into the open air, where one could see and fight if needs be.
Through all this, Bruno Gillespie held the position he had taken, one hand gripping tightly his maquahuitl, but placing his main dependence upon the revolver which nestled conveniently within the folds of his sash, one nervous forefinger touching the curved trigger.
He could not help seeing that the danger was great. He felt certain that they could not retreat much farther without coming to blows, when the odds would be overwhelmingly against them. Yet never for an instant did he regret having taken such a decided step; not for one moment did he give thought to himself.
Almost within reach of his hand, if extended at the length of his arm, moved the fair maiden whose face and form had made so deep an impression upon his mind and his heart. She was in peril. She needed aid. That was enough!
Then the briefly stunned Tlacopa rushed forth from his desecrated temple, wildly flourishing his arms, furiously denouncing both the Sun Children and their body-guard, thundering forth the curses of all the gods upon the heads of those who refrained from arresting the evil ones.
"The mighty Mother of Gods calls for her own! Seize them! Strike down the impious dogs who dare attempt to defraud our Mother! Seize them! To the sacrifice--to the sacrifice!"
Equally loud of voice, the Prince Hua came leaping down to the sandy level, urging his people to the assault, offering almost fabulous sums as reward for the brave Aztec whose arm should lay yonder traitorous Red Heron prone in the dust.
The crisis came, and the dogs of war were let loose.
An arrow whizzed narrowly past the feathered helmet worn by the captain of the guards. A stone came humming out of sling, to be deftly dashed aside by Aztotl's shield ere it could fairly smite that gold-crowned head as, outwardly calm and composed, Victo aided her trembling daughter on towards the Temple of the Sun God, where alone they might look for safety.
But would it be found even there?
No! For, at savage howl from lips of the high priest, a strong force of armed redskins took up position at the teocalli, blocking each one of the four flights of stone steps in order to intercept the body-guard, while still closer pressed the yelling, screeching, frantic heathen of both sexes and all ages.
Aztotl saw how he had been flanked, but made no sign, even while slightly turning course for another temple at less distance, a single word being sufficient to post his true-hearts.
So far not a single blow had been struck by the retreating party, although great provocation had been given them. More than one of their number was bleeding, yet all were afoot, and still capable of holding ranks. Then--
Bravest of the brave, a man among men in spite of his tender years, Ixtli laid down his life in defence of his idolised Victo.
From one of that maddened rabble came a heavy stone, flung with all the power of a sinewy arm and great sling. Smitten