It was abundantly evident the man was fairly crazed with conceit, already well entangled in the web of this designing creature. For the hour, at least, all serious consideration of her who should rightfully claim his attention had been completely blotted out. He had become a willing victim to a will infinitely stronger than his own, his conscience deadened by the poison of beauty; so, while my blood rioted in protest to his simpering French vanity, I could perceive no means by which I might arouse him to more manly action. To cross such a man only invites to the surface the worst elements of his nature; besides, were I to stir him by strong protest, it might be doubtful if he comprehended the nature of my scruples in the matter. Any such misunderstanding would result in the exchange of hard words, and in my making an enemy where now I possessed a friend. Not that the Chevalier was a particularly valuable ally, yet he wielded a good sword upon occasion, and would prove more useful in friendship than in enmity. I might despise him, yet he remained the husband of Madame, and I durst pick no quarrel with him. To do so would raise a barrier between us, rendering our situation among the savages darker than ever. As to the moral side of the affair, it would be sheer waste of words to broach it, as De Noyan could form no clearer conception of such an issue than a babe unborn. He swung as the wind blew, and in all his pampered life had probably never dreamed of denying himself a liberty. Saint Andrew! it was a knotty problem for such a head as mine to solve. I believe I chose the better course in assuming the role of a neutral, as I sat staring at the fellow while he twisted his moustaches into their old-time curl, gazing at himself in the pocket mirror, utterly oblivious of my presence.
"So this beauty of a Queen told you the tale of her people," I remarked at last, determining to humor his mood. "It would interest me to hear the story. Those I have thus far seen differ widely from any other order of savages with whom I have come in contact."
"Your judgment is right. As she tells the story, they are not of Indian blood, but belong to a far older race. She says they are the remnant of a master people--although regarding their exact lineage she spoke but little--who once, hundreds of years ago no doubt, held undisputed dominion from the banks of a great red river flowing through the prairies far to the northward, down to the salted sea bounding the land upon the east. She said their ancestors mined in the rocks, and cultivated the rich land of the valleys. They were ruled over by five kings; and when one of these died all their wives were burned above the grave, and a hundred slaves sacrificed to the Sun, which they worshipped, and called Elagabalus. These were all buried around the body of the king, whose tomb was of rock, and a huge mound of earth erected over them by the labor of thousands of slaves taken in battle. Yet their chief king, in the day of their great power, she called Palenque, placing his capital to north and east of this place, a land journey of thirty days. Here was built a great city of wood and stone, surrounded by an immense wall of earth, to which all the smaller kings journeyed in state once each year to make account of their kingdoms, and offer up slaves on the altar of the great temple in sacrifice to the Sun. They would gather thus from noon to noon, and thousands of captives would be slaughtered before the altar by the priests. She told me they once possessed vast store of yellow metal and flashing stones, with other treasures. Cities were set apart under guard to have special care over them. Some of these have descended even unto the present, but are kept hidden away by the priests, though she promised later to let me view them secretly. And she related a most strange tale of destiny--of a long, barbarous war, filled with the names of warriors and towns sounding most uncouth to my ears; a war lasting many years, during which the Chichimes--for so she named the wild hordes sweeping down upon them from the northward--drove their fathers backward from city to city, beginning far away in the kingdom named Talapa, and pillaging clear to the banks of the great river where Palenque reigned. Their ancestors erected vast forts of earth, thus managing to hold their own against the invaders, so long as their slaves remained loyal. But at last these also rose in revolt, and, when all supplies had been cut off, the hopeless remnant of defenders fell back down the broad river, bearing with them much of their most valued treasure, never permitting the sacred flame, which was the gift of the Sun, to die out upon their altars. Like flies they died in the preservation of this symbol of their religion; for 'tis their faith, that if it be kept burning undimmed, there will yet come to them a great leader from the Sun to restore their lost glories. She described to me the arts of that past, the many beautiful things the race had made, those wondrous cities protected by high walls, the vast mounds of earth moulded into strange figures of extinct animals, uplifted as altars, and sometimes utilized for the burial of their dead and their treasure. Sacre! I can recall a portion of the story, yet it was a weird, fascinating tale as she told it slowly, and with all seriousness, although the black boy stammered so badly in his words I got only dim pictures here and there."