Генри Хаггард - Heart of the World

"I cannot say, señor, my pain is great, and I am being slowly crushed to death; but I believe that as yet my bones are whole. Fly, I beg of you."

"I will not," he answered sullenly, "I am going to roll this rock off you."

Then, lifting with all his strength, he strove to move the stone, but without avail, for it was beyond the power of mortal man to stir it, and all the while the black mass trembled above his head.

"I must go for help," he said, presently.

"Yes, yes, señor," I answered, "go for help;" for I knew well that before he could return with any, more of the roof would have fallen, shutting me in to perish by inches, or perhaps crushing the life out of me in mercy. Then I remembered, and added:

"Stay a moment before you go; you are noble, I will give you something. Feel here round my neck, there is a little chain—now, draw it over my head—so. You see a token hangs to it; if ever you are in trouble with the Indians, take their chief man apart and show him this, and he will die for you if need be.

"Englishman, by this gift I have made you heir to the empire of the Aztecs in the heart of every Indian, and the master of the great brotherhood of Mexico. Molas, the messenger, will tell you all and bring you to those who can initiate you. Bid him lead you whither he would have led me. Farewell, and God go with you. Tell the Indians how I died, that they may not think that you have murdered me."

To these words of mine the señor made no answer, but thrust the token into his pocket without looking at it, like one who dreams. Then, taking the candle with him, he crept forward down the tunnel and vanished, and my heart sank as I saw him go, leaving me to my dreadful fate without a word of farewell.

"Doubtless he is too frightened to speak," I thought, "and it is right that he should fly as quickly as possible to save his life."

Now, as I was soon to learn, I was doing the señor a bitter wrong in my mind, seeing that he never dreamed of deserting me, but went to find a means of rescue. As he told me afterwards, when he reached the mouth of the tunnel, he could think of no way by which I might be saved, since these mountains were uninhabited, and it would take several hours to bring men from Cumarvo.

Outside the mine he sat himself down to consider what could be done, but no thought came, for it was impossible to use the strength of the horses in that narrow place. Then he sprang up and looked round him in despair. Close to him was a little ravine hollowed by water, and on its very edge grew a small mimosa thorn of which the long roots had been washed almost bare by a flood. He saw it, and an inspiration entered into him. With the help of a lever he might be able to do a feat to which his unaided strength was not equal.

Springing at the little tree, that being of so tough a wood was the best possible for his purpose, he tore it from such root–hold as remained to it. A few strokes with his heavy hunting–knife trimmed off the branches and fibres, and soon he was creeping carefully up the tunnel, dragging the trunk after him. When he had gone some twenty paces he heard another fragment of the roof fall, and, so he said in his story, was minded to fly.

He had but just escaped from a horrible end, the end that generations ago overtook the poor Aztec, and it was awful to brave it again. He knew that his chances of being able to rescue me were few indeed, whereas those that he would perish miserably in the attempt were many. Then he remembered what my sufferings must be if I still lived, and how his own conscience would reproach him in the after years, should he leave me to my fate, and he went on.

Now he could see that the half–detached mass of the roof still hung; it was a smaller fragment which had fallen, one nearer to the entrance. He could see also that I lay in the same position beneath the rock, and he thought that I was dead, because I neither moved nor spoke, though, in fact, I had but swooned under the agony of my suffering.

"Are you dead?" he whispered, and I heard his voice through my sleep, and, lifting my head, looked up at him astonished, for I had never thought to see him again.

"Do I behold a spirit," I said, "or is it you come back?"

"It is I, Ignatio. and I have brought a lever. Now when I lift, struggle forward if you can."

Then he placed the trunk of the thorn–tree in what seemed to him the best position, and put all his strength upon it. It was in vain; even so he could not stir the rock.

"Try a little more to the right," I said, faintly; "there is a better hold."

He shifted the lever and dragged at it till his muscles cracked, and I felt the stone tremble as its bulk began to rise.

"If you can help ever so little, it will come!" he gasped.

Then in my despair, though the anguish of it nearly killed me, I set my palms upon the ground, and, contracting myself like a snake that is held with a forked stick, thrust upwards with my back till the point of the stone was raised to the height of eight or ten inches from the ground.

For a moment, and one only, it hung there; next instant the lever slipped, and down it came again. But I had taken my chance, for, clinging to the floor with my fingers, so soon as my back was free, with a quick movement I dragged myself a foot or more forward. Then the point of rock that had been lifted from my spine fell again, but this time it struck the ground between my thighs.

Now he seized me by the arms and tore me free, though I left one of my long boots beneath the stone. I strove to rise, but could not because of the hurt to my back.

"You must carry me, señor," I said.

He glanced at the mass that trembled above us; then, giving me the candle, he lifted me from the ground like an infant and staggered forward down the tunnel. Perhaps we had gone some seven or eight paces, not more, when there was a dreadful crash behind us. The roof had fallen in, and the spot which we occupied some thirty seconds before was now piled high with rocks.

"Oh!" I said; "cracks are showing in the stone above us!" and he rushed forward till we found ourselves outside the mine.

Now I bowed my head and returned thanks for my escape; then, lifting it, I looked my preserver in the face and said:

"I swear by the name of God, señor, that He never made a man nobler than yourself!"

The next instant I fell forward and fainted there among the ferns.

Ten days had passed since I was carried from the mouth of that accursed mine back to Cumarvo in a litter, and during all this time I had suffered much pain in my back, and been very ill—so ill, indeed, that I was scarcely allowed to speak with anyone. Now, however, I was much better, and one afternoon the Señor Strickland, assisted by my foster–brother Molas, lifted me from my bed into a hammock.

"By the way, Ignatio," said the señor when Molas had gone, "I never gave you back this charm of yours. What a strange trinket it is!" he added, taking it from his neck; "and what did you mean by your talk in the tunnel about its making me heir to the empire of the Aztecs in the heart of every Indian, and the rest of it? I suppose that you were delirious with pain, and did not know what you were saying."

"Is the door shut, señor?" I asked; "and are you sure that there is no one on the verandah? Good! Then draw your chair nearer and I will tell you something. I am not certain that I should take this talisman back again, still I will do so for reasons which you shall learn presently.

"Know, señor, that this broken gem is at once the foundation–stone and the secret symbol of a great order, of which, although you have not been initiated into it, you are now one of the lords, seeing that the crowning and vital ceremony of the creation of a Lord of the Heart consists in the hanging of the symbol about his neck for the space of a minute only by myself, who am the chief lord and Keeper of the Heart for life, and you have worn it for ten whole days.