After that I remember nothing till I found myself once more in my apartments in Montezuma’s palace, which I never hoped to see again. Otomie was by me, and she brought me water to wash the paint from my body and the blood from my wound, which, leaving her own untended, she dressed skilfully, for the cut of the priest’s knife was deep and I had bled much. Also she clothed herself afresh in a white robe and brought me raiment to wear, with food and drink, and I partook of them. Then I bade her eat something herself, and when she had done so I gathered my wits together and spoke to her.

“What next?” I said. “Presently the priests will be on us, and we shall be dragged back to sacrifice. There is no hope for me here, I must fly to the Spaniards and trust to their mercy.”

Montezuma’s Daughter — Part 166

“To the mercy of that man with the sword? Say, Teule, who is he?”

Montezuma’s Daughter — Part 166

“He is that Spaniard of whom I have spoken to you, Otomie; he is my mortal enemy whom I have followed across the seas.”

Montezuma’s Daughter — Part 166

“And now you would put yourself into his power. Truly, you are foolish, Teule.”

“It is better to fall into the hands of Christian men than into those of your priests,” I answered.

“Have no fear,” she said; “the priests are harmless for you. You have escaped them and there’s an end. Few have ever come alive from their clutches before, and he who does so is a wizard indeed. For the rest I think that your God is stronger than our gods, for surely He must have cast His mantle over us when we lay yonder on the stone. Ah! Teule, to what have you brought me that I should live to doubt my gods, ay, and to call upon the foes of my country for succour in your need. Believe me, I had not done it for my own sake, since I would have died with your kiss upon my lips and your word of love echoing in my ears, who now must live knowing that these joys have passed from me.”

“How so?” I answered. “What I have said, I have said. Otomie, you would have died with me, and you saved my life by your wit in calling on the Spaniards. Henceforth it is yours, for there is no other woman in the world so tender and so brave, and I say it again, Otomie, my wife, I love you. Our blood has mingled on the stone of sacrifice and there we kissed; let these be our marriage rites. Perhaps I have not long to live, but till I die I am yours, Otomie my wife.”