“You go hence to-morrow, prince,” she said softly, “and I have a favour to ask of you, if you will listen to your handmaid.”
“I would ask this, that if it pleases you, you will buy me of the _cacique_ my master, or command him to give me up to you, and take me with you to Tenoctitlan.”
Guatemoc laughed aloud. “You put things plainly, maiden,” he said, “but know that in the city of Tenoctitlan, my wife and royal cousin, Tecuichpo, awaits me, and with her three other ladies, who as it chances are somewhat jealous.”
Now Marina flushed beneath her brown skin, and for the first and last time I saw her gentle eyes grow hard with anger as she answered:
“I asked you to take me with you, prince; I did not ask to be your wife or love.”
“But perchance you meant it,” he said dryly.
“Whatever I may have meant, prince, it is now forgotten. I wished to see the great city and the great king, because I weary of my life here and would myself grow great. You have refused me, but perhaps a time will come when I shall grow great in spite of you, and then I may remember the shame that has been put upon me against you, prince, and all your royal house.”
Again Guatemoc laughed, then of a sudden grew stern.
“You are over-bold, girl,” he said; “for less words than these many a one might find herself stretched upon the stone of sacrifice. But I will forget them, for your woman’s pride is stung, and you know not what you say. Do you forget them also, Teule, if you have understood.”
Then Marina turned and went, her bosom heaving with anger and outraged love or pride, and as she passed me I heard her mutter, “Yes, prince, you may forget, but I shall not.”
Often since that day I have wondered if some vision of the future entered into the girl’s breast in that hour, or if in her wrath she spoke at random. I have wondered also whether this scene between her and Guatemoc had anything to do with the history of her after life; or did Marina, as she avowed to me in days to come, bring shame and ruin on her country for the love of Cortes alone? It is hard to say, and perhaps these things had nothing to do with what followed, for when great events have happened, we are apt to search out causes for them in the past that were no cause. This may have been but a passing mood of hers and one soon put out of mind, for it is certain that few build up the temples of their lives upon some firm foundation of hope or hate, of desire or despair, though it has happened to me to do so, but rather take chance for their architect—and indeed whether they take him or no, he is still the master builder. Still that Marina did not forget this talk I know, for in after times I heard her remind this very prince of the words that had passed between them, ay, and heard his noble answer to her.