Heart of the World | Page 9

histories I never tired, although it maddened me to read
of the misfortunes and cruel oppression of my people, who to-day were
but a nation of slaves.
At length, on my twentieth birthday, my godfather, who now was
grown very old and feeble, called me into his chamber, and, having
locked the door, he spoke to me thus:
"My son, the time has come when I must deliver to you the last
messages of your beloved father, my cousin and best friend, who was
murdered by the soldiers when you were a little child, and tell you of
your descent and other matters.
"First, then, you must know that you are of royal and ancient blood, for
your forefather in the eleventh degree was none other than Guatemoc,
the last of the Aztec emperors, whom the Spaniards murdered, which
descent I can prove to you by means of old writings and pedigrees; also
it is known and attested among the Indians, who even now do not
forget the stock whence sprang their kings."
"Then by right I am Emperor of Mexico," I said proudly, for in my
folly it seemed a fine thing to be sprung from men who once had worn
a crown.
"Alas! my son," the old priest answered sadly, "in this world might is
the only right, and the Spaniards ended that of your forefathers long
ago by aid of torture and the noose. Save that it will earn you reverence
among the Indians, it is but a barren honour which you inherit with
your blood.
"Yet there is one thing that has come down to you from your ancestor,
Guatemoc, and the monarchs who ruled before him. Perchance you
remember that on the night previous to his death, your father set an
amulet upon your neck, and, removing it again, gave it to me to keep.
Here is that amulet."
Then he handed me a trinket made of the half of a heart-shaped emerald,

smooth with wear, but unpolished, that, if joined to its missing section,
would have been as large as a dove's egg. This stone was not broken,
but cut from the top to the bottom, the line of separation being so
cunningly sawn that no man, unless he had one half before him, could
imitate the other. The charm was bored through so as to be worn upon a
chain, and engraved upon its surface were some strange hieroglyphics
and the outline of half a human face.
"What is it?" I asked.
The old priest shrugged his shoulders, and answered:
"A relic which had to do with their wicked heathen magic and rites, I
suppose. I know little about it, except that your father told me it was the
most valued possession of the Aztec kings, and that the natives believe
that when the two halves of this stone come together, the men of white
blood will be driven from Central America and an Indian emperor shall
rule from sea to sea."
"And where is the other half, father?"
"How should I know," he answered testily, "who have no faith in such
stories, or in stones with the heads of idols graven upon them? I am a
priest, and therefore your father told me little of the matter, since it is
not lawful that I should belong to secret societies. Still, some such
society exists, and, in virtue of the ownership of that talisman, you will
be head of it, as your ancestors were before you, though, so far as I can
learn, the honour brought them but little luck.
"I know no more about it, but I will give you letters to a certain Indian
who lives in the district of which your father was /cacique/, and, when
you show him the stone, doubtless he will initiate you into its mysteries,
though I counsel you to have nothing to do with them.
"Listen, Ignatio, my son, you are a rich man; how rich I cannot tell you,
but for many generations your forefathers have hidden up treasure for
an object which I must explain, and the gold will be handed over to you
by those of your clan in whose keeping it is. It was because of this

treasure that your father and your great-grandfather were done to death
with many others, since the rumour of it came to the ears of those that
ruled in Mexico, who, when they failed to force the secret from them,
tormented and killed them in their rage.
"Now, this was the message of your father to you concerning the
wealth which he and his ancestors had hidden:
"'Tell my son, Ignatio, should he live to grow up, that there has never
departed from our family the desire to win back the crown that
Guatemoc lost, or at