at of Marina. 'Are
you then mad, Teule?'

'Who is this who knows you so well, husband, and will not even suffer
that we die in peace?' asked Otomie.

'I am Marina,' answered the veiled woman, 'and I come to save you if I
can.'

CHAPTER XXX

THE ESCAPE

Now Otomie put the rope off her neck, and descending from the stool,
stood before Marina.

'You are Marina,' she said coldly and proudly, 'and you come to save
us, you who have brought ruin on the land that bore you, and have given
thousands of her children to death, and shame, and torment. Now, if I
had my way, I would have none of your salvation, nay, I would rather
save myself as I was about to do.'

Thus Otomie spoke, and never had she looked more royal than in this
moment, when she risked her last chance of life that she might pour
out her scorn upon one whom she deemed a traitress, no, one who was a
traitress, for had it not been for Marina's wit and aid, Cortes would
never have conquered Anahuac. I trembled as I heard her angry words,
for, all I suffered notwithstanding, life still seemed sweet to me, who,
ten seconds ago, had stood upon the verge of death. Surely Marina would
depart and leave us to our doom. But it was not so. Indeed, she shrank
and trembled before Otomie's contempt. They were a strange contrast in
their different loveliness as they stood face to face in the torture
den, and it was strange also to see the spirit of the lady of royal
blood, threatened as she was with a shameful death, or still more
shameful life, triumph over the Indian girl whom to-day fortune had set
as far above her as the stars.

'Say, royal lady,' asked Marina in her gentle voice, 'for what cause
did you, if tales are true, lie by the side of yonder white man upon the
stone of sacrifice?'

'Because I love him, Marina.'

'And for this same cause have I, Marina, laid my honour upon a different
altar, for this same cause I have striven against the children of my
people, because I love another such as he. It is for love of Cortes that
I have aided Cortes, therefore despise me not, but let your love plead
for mine, seeing that, to us women, love is all. I have sinned, I know,
but doubtless in its season my sin shall find a fitting punishment.'

'It had need be sharp,' answered Otomie. 'My love has harmed none, see
before you but one grain of the countless harvest of your own. In yonder
chair Guatemoc your king was this day tortured by your master Cortes,
who s