Heart of the World | Page 5

and /sierras/ of Central America, where no white man has
set his foot, and whence the Indians vanished generations since, there is
room for many ancient cities. Why, señor, within two hundred miles or
less of where we sit to-night, there exist tribes of /Lacandones/, or
unbaptised Indians, who have never seen a white man and who still
follow their fathers' faiths. No, señor, that story shall never be told, at
any rate in my lifetime, for I have nothing to show in proof of it, or at
least only one thing----"
"What is it?" asked Jones, eagerly.
"You shall see if you wish, señor," his host answered, and left the
room.
Presently he returned with a little leather bag from which he extracted a
very curious and beautiful ornament. It was a great emerald, by far the
largest that Jones had ever seen, uncut, but highly polished. This stone,
which was set in pure gold, obviously had formed the clasp of a belt
and could also be used as a seal; for on it, cut in /intaglio/, was the
mask of a solemn and death-like human face surrounded by a
hieroglyphic inscription, while on the reverse were other hieroglyphics.
"Can you read this writing?" asked Jones, when he had examined the
ornament.

"Yes, señor. The words in front are: 'O Eyes and Mouth, look on me,
plead for me.' And those on the back: 'Heart of Heaven, be thou my
home.'"
"It is wonderful," said Jones, restoring the relic with a sigh, for he
would have given everything that he had, down to his shoes, to possess
it. "And now will you not make an exception in my favour, and tell me
the story?"
"I fear that I cannot oblige you, señor," Don Ignatio answered, shaking
his head.
"But," pleaded Jones, "having revealed so much, it is cruel to hide the
rest."
"Señor," said his host, "will you take some more coffee? No. Then shall
we walk a little on the roof and look at the view; it is pretty by
moonlight, and the roofs here are wonderful, all built of solid stone;
there is a tradition that the old monks used to dine on them in summer.
They have a loop-holed wall round them whence that abbot, whose
portrait hangs in your sleeping-chamber, beat back a great attack of the
Indians whom his oppression stirred into rebellion.
"To-morrow I shall hope to show you round the lands, which have
repaid me well for my twenty years of cultivation. Everybody in
Mexico runs after mines, but its soil is the richest mine of all. I knew
that, and, seeing the capacities of the place, I sold the other emeralds
which went with this clasp--they were fine stones, but unengraved, and
therefore of no particular interest--and bought it cheap enough. Now
that the country is more settled, and I have planted so much, its value
has become great, and will be greater still when all the young cocoa
bushes are in full bearing a few years hence.
"There, thanks be to the Saints, the stair is done--of late my back hurts
me when I climb up steps. The air is sweet, is it not, señor, and the
prospect pleasing? Look, the river shines like silver. Ah! how beautiful
is God's world! It makes me sad to think of leaving it, but doubtless He
will provide still finer places for us to work and serve Him in, gardens

where sin and grief cannot enter. Surely there is room enough yonder,"
and he nodded toward the sky.

This was but the first of many nights that Jones spent under Don
Ignatio's hospitable roof, where, as the months went by, he grew more
and more welcome. Soon he conceived a great affection for the grave,
sweet-natured, kindly old Indian gentleman, whose mind seemed to be
incapable of any evil thought, and whose chief ambitions were to
improve his land and do good to all about him, more especially to his
Indian servants or peons.
In the beginning of their intimacy they made several expeditions
together to inspect ruins in the neighbourhood, and once Don Ignatio
came to stay with him at the mine of La Concepcion, where his visit
proved of the greatest use to Mr. Jones and the company he served. One
of the difficulties in working this particular mine lay in the scarcity of
labour. At a word from Don Ignatio this trouble vanished. He sent for a
/cacique/, who lived in the mountains, and spoke to him, and lo! within
a week, fifty stalwart Indians appeared to offer their services at the
mine, thus affording one of many instances that came to Jones's
knowledge, of his friend's extraordinary influence among the natives.
As time went on, however, these excursions ceased, since