That sudden appearance and flight of another man took Ixtli even more by surprise than it did Bruno, for he never even suspected such a possibility, knowing Prince Hua so well. Still, the young brave was swift to rally, swift to pursue, sending a menace of certain death in case the fleeing cur should not yield himself.
Just then Bruno had eyes and thoughts for the Sun Children alone, who quite naturally shrunk back in mingled surprise and alarm at his unceremonious entrance. He forgot his disguise, forgot everything save that before him stood the fair beings whom he had vowed to save at all hazards from what appeared to him worse by far than actual death.
Gillespie never knew just what words crossed his lips during those first few seconds, but he saw that the women, in place of eagerly accepting his aid, were visibly shrinking, apparently more alarmed than delighted with the opportunity thus offered.
Doubtless this was caused mainly by that odd blending of Aztec and paleface, the colour and garb of the one joined to the tongue of the other; but the result might have been even worse, had not Ixtli hastened back to clear up more matters than one.
In spite of his utmost efforts, the second Indian had escaped with life, although he received a glancing wound from an arrow, as he plunged down towards the lower level; and nothing seemed more certain than that an alarm would right speedily spread throughout the town, if only for the purpose of hurrying succour to the Lord Hua.
All this rolled in swift words over Ixtli's lips, his warning finding completion before either of the women could fairly interrupt the young brave. But then the one whom Ixtli termed Victo spoke rapidly in his musical tongue, one strong white hand waving towards the now somewhat embarrassed Gillespie.
“He friend; come save you, like save Ixtli,” the Aztec hurriedly made reply, with generous tact speaking so that Bruno could comprehend as well as the women. “He good; all good! Paba bad; 'Tzin more bad; be worse bad if stay here, Victo—Glady.”
Thus given the proper cue, Bruno took fresh courage and, in as few words as might be, explained his mission. He spoke the name of Cooper Edgecombe, and for the first time that queenly woman showed signs of weakness, staggering back with a faint, choking gasp, one hand clasped spasmodically above her madly throbbing heart, the other rising to her temples as though in fear of coming insanity.
“He is well; he is safe and longing for his loved ones,” Bruno swiftly added, producing the brief note which the exiled aeronaut had pressed into his hand at almost the last moment. “He wrote you that—here it is, and—”
“Make hurry, quick!” sharply interposed Ixtli, as ominous sounds began to arise without the Temple of the Sun God. “Dog git 'way, howl for more. Come here—kill like gods be glad.”
With an evident effort Victo rallied, tones far from steady as she begged both young men to save themselves without thought of them.
“I thank you; heaven alone knows how overjoyed I am to hear from my dear husband,—my poor child's own father! And he is near, to—But go, go! Guide and protect him, Ixtli, for—Go, I implore you, sir!”
“But how—we haven't arranged how you are to be rescued, and I must understand—”
“Later, then; another time, through Ixtli,” interrupted Mrs. Edgecombe, since there could no longer be a doubt as to her identity. “If found here 'twill be our ruin as well as your own. Go, and at once I fear that Lord Hua may—”
“He 'live yet,” pronounced Ixtli, rising from a hasty examination o f the fallen chieftain. “Dat bad; much more worse bad! He dog; all over dog!”
“And I greatly fear he must have recognised you as one of a foreign race, in spite of your disguise,” added the elder woman, trouble in her face even as it showed in her voice. “He will be wild for revenge, and I fear—Go, and directly, Ixtli!”
Bruno Gillespie was only too well assured that this latest fear had foundation on truth. Swiftly though he had wielded the awkward (to him) hand-wood, Huatzin had sufficient time to sight his assailant, and almost certainly had divined at least a portion of the truth.
Doubtless it would have been the more prudent course to repeat that blow with greater precision; but Bruno could not bring himself to do just that, even though the ugly cries were growing in volume on the ground level; and he felt that capture would be but the initial step to death, in all likelihood upon the great stone of sacrifice.
Imminent though their peril surely was, Bruno could not betake himself to flight without at least partially performing the duty for which he had volunteered; and so he took time to hurriedly utter:
“Watch from the top of the tower for the air-ship, and be ready to leave at any moment, I implore you—both!”
For even now his admiring gaze could with difficulty be torn away from yonder younger, even more lovely, visage; although as yet the maiden had spoken no word, even shrinking away from this strangely speaking Aztec as though in affright.
“Come, brother, or too late,” urged Ixtli, almost sternly. “Save you, or Glass-eyes call Ixtli dog-liar. Come; must run, no fight; too big many for that.”
And so it seemed, when the young men rushed away from the lighted interior and gained the uncovered space beyond. Loud cries came soaring through the night from different directions, and dim, phantom-like shapes could be glimpsed in hurrying confusion.
Apparently the majority only knew that trouble of some description was brewing, and that the centre of interest was either in or near the Temple of the Sun God; yet that was more than sufficient to place the white intruder in great peril, despite the elaborate disguise he wore.
Then with awful abruptness there came a sound which could only be likened to rolling thunder by one uninitiated, but which caused Ixtli to shrink and almost cower, ere gasping:
“The great war-drum! Now MUST go! Sacrifice if caught; come, white brother! See, dat more bad now!”
Those mighty throbs rolled and reverberated from the hills, filling the night air with waves of thunder, none the less awe-inspiring now that their true import was realised.
The entire population was aroused, and each building seemed to cast forth an armed host, while, as through some magic touch, a circle of fires sprung up on all sides, beginning to illumine both valley and barrier.
Bruno stood like one appalled, really fascinated by this transformation scene for which he had been so poorly prepared; but Ixtli better comprehended their situation, and gripping an arm he muttered, hastily:
“Come, brother; stop more, make too late. Must hide, now. Dat stop go back way came. Come!”
Bruno roused himself with an effort, then yielded to the Aztec's guidance, crouching low as the brief bit of clear moonlight had to be traversed.
Instead of making for the steps which, as customary, reached from terrace to terrace at each corner, Ixtli crept to the centre, where the temple-side was cast into deepest shadow, then lowered himself by his arms, to drop silently to the broad path below.
A whispered word urged Bruno to imitate this action, and those friendly hands caught and steadied Gillespie as he took the drop. And so, one after another, the mighty steps were passed, both young men reaching the ground at the same instant, having succeeded in leaving the Temple of the Sun God without being glimpsed by an Indian of all those whom the sonorous drum-throbs had brought forth In arms.
“Whither now?” asked Bruno, in guarded tones, as he looked forth from shadow into moonlight, seeing scores upon scores of armed shapes flitting to and fro, all looking for the enemy, yet none able to precisely locate the trouble.
Just then a savage yell broke from the top of the temple, followed by a few fierce-sounding sentences, which Ixtli declared came from the Lord Hua, then adding:
“He say kill if catch, but dat—no! Come, white brother. Ixtli show how play fool dat dog; yes!”
“All right, my hearty. Is it a break for the hills? I reckon I can break through. If not—well, I'll leave some marks behind me, anyway!”
“No, no, dat bad! Can't go to hills; must hide,” positively declared the young Aztec. “Come, now. Me show good place; all dead but we.”
Evidently trusting to pass undetected where so many others were rushing back and forth in seeming confusion, Ixtli broke away from the shadow of the temple, closely followed by Gillespie, heading as directly as might be for the strange refuge which he now had in mind.
That proved to be a low, unpretending structure which was of no great extent, so far as Bruno's hasty look could ascertain. Still, that was not the time for doubting the wisdom of his guide, nor a moment in which to discuss either methods or means; and as Ixtli passed through a massive entrance, the paleface followed, giving a little shiver as the barrier swung to behind them.
“What sort of a place is it, anyway, Ixtli?” he demanded, but the Aztec was too hurried for words, just then, save enough to warn his companion in peril that they must descend deeper into the earth.
It was more of a scramble than a deliberate descent, for the gloom was complete, and Bruno had no time in which to feel for steps or stairs. Only for the aiding touch of his guide, he must have taken more than one awkward tumble ere that lower level was attained.
Then a breathing-spell was granted him, and, while Ixtli bent ear in listening to discover if pursuit was being made, Bruno drew a match from the liberal supply he had taken the precaution to fetch along, and, striking it, held aloft the tiny torch to view their present surroundings.
Only to give an involuntary start and cry as he caught indistinct glimpses of fleshless bones and grinning skulls, those grim relics of mortality showing upon every side as his wild eyes roved around.
Then a hand struck down the match, and a swift voice breathed:
“Dey come dis way. See us hide—come hunt, now, to kill!”
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