XX
LEGEND AND REALITY
As soon as she reentered the palace, Sajipona dismissed her courtiers,the cavemen who acted as guards, and even the few female attendants shewas accustomed to have near her. Of her own people, Narva aloneremained.
Facing Raoul and Una in the deserted hall, flooded with light from themagic sun that a short while since had traced in moving charactersof fire the approach of her enemies, Sajipona told of her purpose inbringing them there. She spoke as if she had long foreseen and evenplanned this interview, and amazed them by her intimate knowledge ofvarious matters that seemed quite beyond the reach of her sources ofinformation. It was as if she had been thoroughly familiar for someyears past with Raoul's schemes, and had even shared in the hopes andfears that brought Una to Colombia.
"I knew of your coming; I planned for it," she said to Raoul. "Formonths I have known that you were using every art your cunning couldsuggest--aided by the treachery of one of my own people--to find yourway here. Until now you have been unable to do anything. I was alwaysable to keep you out of here--and I could still have kept you out, hadit not served my purpose better to let you come. You are here now--youare looking for what you have always looked. You guessed, long since,of the existence of a great treasure house, built here centuries agoby the rulers of our mountain kingdom who disappeared before the whiteinvaders of this country. Idle stories and legends of those far offtimes, repeated to you by the peons whom you questioned, vague hintsand romances picked up from ancient books, led you to this cave and tothe belief that I was, in some way, mixed up with its secret. I willnot say that you were right or wrong in all of this. Here you look fora mountain of treasure; as yet you have found none. But you have seenmarvels enough since you entered this unknown region to make you eagerto solve a mystery that every moment has grown deeper. I will helpyou--but it must be in my own way, and just so far as it suits my ownplans.
"Once, we who live here now shut out from all the rest of the world,were free. We overran all the plains and mountains of Bogota, our ruleextended to the warmer countries on every side of us. We practicedarts, cultivated sciences, were familiar with secrets of nature thatour conquerors were too rude, too ignorant to understand. But theseconquerors excelled us in warfare; and so we were driven either intoslavery or hiding. It is in memory of that former age of freedom andempire that my people have called this the Land of the Condor--that,and a strange old legend that you may have heard of. Here we are hiddenfar, as you know, from the light of the upper earth. A miracle of naturecarved this land out of the rock; the science and art of a race olderthan yours have furnished it and made it what you see. It is guarded,as you know to your cost, by many a labyrinth, strongholds that havebaffled you every time you have tried to pierce them. Its people live bymeans and methods that are forgotten--if they were ever known--to theouter world. Here we have been free to follow the customs and beliefs ofour fathers. Here we could still continue a peaceful mode of life youknow nothing of. But something has happened that has changed all this.Because of it I have at last permitted, even aided your coming to us.I know all you have sacrificed for this treasure you hope to win fromthe depths of the earth--treasure that belongs to us. I will not saythat your search will be rewarded. Had you succeeded in your plan yearsago you would have paid dearly for it. The knowledge of this hiddenland would have been forever lost to you. Good fortune--or ill--hasbrought you here at last. Your fate lies now in the hands of the manyou once tried to injure. But there is one thing you must do before hisdecision can be given. You must free him from a tyranny that, with allour knowledge of mankind's perils and weaknesses, we are powerless toovercome."
The demand, vague though it was, did not surprise Raoul. Upon learningof David's disappearance on the road from Honda to Bogota, he guessedthat the missing man had found his way, by some inexplicable method, tothis subterranean world, thus repeating his almost fatal adventure ofthree years ago. This surmise, based on the past, and on indicationsof similar abnormal mental symptoms that he believed David had againexperienced, was corroborated by the cavemen who accompanied him to thepalace. From these cavemen he learned that David had been followed bySajipona's emissaries ever since his arrival in Honda. These peopleintended neither his capture, nor to interfere with whatever plans hemight have. Instead, they had formed a sort of secret guard, instructedto watch him and report, so soon as they could ascertain it, his purposein revisiting Bogota. When he was separated from Herran by the regimentof volunteers on the Honda road, he was found in a state of mentalbewilderment, not conscious, apparently, that he had lost his travelingcompanions, but anxious to find his way to some place, which he vaguelydescribed. While in this condition he seemed to recognize the cavemenwith whom he was talking. Aided by their hints and suggestions, hisrecollection of the cave, and especially of Sajipona, grew in vividness.He appeared to remember nothing of Herran, nor of his immediate objectin visiting Bogota. But he spoke with increasing clearness of the Landof the Condor. He recalled what had befallen him there three years agoas if it had happened quite recently, and declared he was looking forSajipona, of whom he spoke with the greatest admiration and gratitude.As he was uncertain of his way, he asked the cavemen to guide him.This, of course, they were ready to do, although they were completelymystified by the sudden oblivion into which, apparently, all hispresent friends and purposes had fallen in his mind. Sajipona alone heremembered. Three years had passed since he last saw her--but the eventscrowded into those three years seemed to have left not the slightesttrace on his memory. He described his first visit to the cave; but thetime between that period and this remained a blank in his mind.
All this Raoul had gathered from the cavemen who, reverting to theIndian belief in such matters, declared that David was bewitched. In asense, Raoul knew this to be true. He knew also that the spells wroughtby modern witchcraft were easily broken by any scientist holding theclew to them. That the cavemen, who possessed secrets in physics unknownto the outer world, should be ignorant of the simplest phenomena ofhypnotism was not extraordinary. Even Sajipona shared, to a certainextent, the superstitions of those around her regarding David. Sheexpected Raoul to break the "enchantment" under which David suffered.Una, familiar with Leighton's experiments and speculations in thisfield, was quite as confident as the queen that the case was withinRaoul's power. Raoul alone realized the possible consequences followingDavid's return to normal consciousness.
"Even if I could do as you say," he asked, "why would you have Davidchanged?"
"As he is now, he is not himself."
"No, he is not himself," repeated Una eagerly.
Sajipona's cheek paled; her lips tightened as if to prevent an angryrejoinder.
"Are you not content with him as he is?" persisted Raoul.
"What is that to you?" she asked coldly. Then, no longer disguising heremotion, she went on:
"You don't understand what is between us. He comes from a world thatI have never seen. In the legends of our kings there is one tellingof a stranger who suddenly appears from a land of clouds--a land noman knows--who brings with him the power to make my people, as theyonce were, rulers of their own land. It is an old tale. Believe it ornot--who can be sure of these things? Certainly, the stranger has nevercome--unless it is David."
"There have been many strangers since that time," said Raoul cynically."Your people have disappeared before the Spaniard. They live unknown,forgotten, in a cave in the mountains. Why do you think David is thestranger in the legend?"
She drew herself up scornfully. Her dark beauty, flashing eye, quiveringnostril, needed not the emerald diadem of the ancient Chibchasencircling her brow to proclaim her royal lineage.
"We are not so poor, so abandoned, as you seem to think," she said."This is all that is left of a mighty kingdom, it is true--a caveunknown to the rest of the world. But here we are, at least, free. Welive the life of our fathers. Our old men have taught us wisdom thatis unknown to you. We have wealth--not only the wealth that you arese
eking--but secrets of earth and air you have never dreamed of."
"This may be--I believe it is--all true. But--what is David to do here?"murmured Una.
"If he is the Stranger of the old legend, the Gilded Man we haveawaited, this Land of the Condor is his."
"You are its queen."
"He will be its king."
"You have told him?" asked Raoul.
"Years ago. We were happy. I loved him. It was not as the women of yourworld love. Life was less than his least wish. And he loved me. Plansfor the great rejoicing--the Feast of the Gilded Man--were made. Notsince the Spaniards came--perhaps never before--has there been suchpreparation. Then, a change came over him. He talked of an outsideworld he had seen in his dreams. He was bewitched then, as he is now.He had forgotten you, his false friend, and all the life he had livedbefore. To cure him, I sent him out with some of our people. He scarcelyunderstood, but he accepted anything I did as if it came from his ownwill. Then he disappeared. Without a word he left me. There came longyears of uncertainty. The few months he passed with me here seemed likesome bright dream that vanishes. I began to think it was a dream--whensuddenly I heard of him again. Some of my people found him wanderingaimlessly in the forest near the Bogota road. He was looking for me, hesaid--he had forgotten the rest of the world."
There was an artless simplicity in Sajipona's confession of her loveand disappointment that was more than eloquence. Narva stood apart, herface shrouded in her mantle, motionless, as if the remembrance of thesebygone matters carried with it something of a religious experience. UponUna the effect was startlingly different. She listened in amazement,indignation, at this revelation of a passion in which her lover hadshared--of which she had known nothing--and that seemed to placehim utterly apart from her. If Sajipona's tale was true--the mannerof its telling, her own engaging personality, carried irresistibleconviction--David's love for Una had been shadowed all along by anearlier, deeper sentiment that gave it the color of something that wasnot altogether real. Why had he never told her of this Indian romance?Hypnotism indeed! What man could help kneeling in passionate adorationbefore this queenly woman, whose beauty was of that glorious warmthand fragrance belonging to the purple and scarlet flowers of one'sdreams, whose love combined the unreasoning devotion of a child withthe proud loyalty that inspires martyrdom? They had loved--David andSajipona--there could be no doubt of that. Before he met Una on theshores of that far-off English lake, David had stood soul to soul in aheaven created by this radiant being. He was with her again. The pastwas completely blotted out; the tender idyl of Derwentwater, of Rysdale,forgotten. Even the sight of Una herself stirred but the vaguest rippleof memory. There was mystery, certainly, in these strange moods offorgetfulness from which David was suffering. Her uncle could give thema learned name and account for them as belonging to something quiteoutside the man's will, outside his control. But what did Leightonreally know of all this? Such matters were beyond the reach of the merescientist. With a flash of scorn she doubted Leighton's knowledge; hiswisdom seemed curiously limited. David's malady--if it was to be calleda malady--was nothing less than the delirium caused by love itself,and as such beyond the reach of clinic or laboratory. The spell, thewitchcraft, that had transformed him was wrought by Sajipona.
At first Una had not believed this; now the sudden conviction that theman she loved was faithless to her, had always been faithless to her,brought an overwhelming sense of bitterness. Her former anxiety to savehim--from peril as she thought--gave place to a feeling that was almostvindictive. She did not view him with the anger of the jealous womanmerely; she wanted to have done with him, to forget him altogether. Hisname was linked by this beautiful Indian to one of the legends of herrace; let it remain there!
"Why disturb him now?" she demanded passionately of Sajipona. "He lovesyou, he is content."
The revulsion of feeling in her voice was unmistakable. Her cheeksflushed, her eyes, eloquent hitherto of womanly tenderness, dilated inanger. Sajipona smiled enigmatically.
"If you had not come," she said, "there would have been no question. Butyou are here. He seems to have forgotten you. I am not sure, I want tobe certain, now that he has forgotten you, that he is still himself."
"Why do you doubt? Yes, he has forgotten me. And he is in your power, heis yours! Why hazard anything further?"
Sajipona ignored the scornful meaning conveyed in the words, regardingUna with a detachment indicating her absorption in a new train ofthought.
"A moment ago you were anxious for his safety," she murmured. "You camehere to look for him, to rescue him. Perhaps I have been unjust--perhapsyou have a claim----"
"I have no claim," retorted Una proudly. "Once you saved his life. Hehas come to you again. He loves you. What man could help loving you!"she added bitterly.
Still Sajipona smiled.
"I must be sure of all this--and so must you," she said. "If thewitchcraft is mine, its power will soon be broken. If there is somethingelse, you, Senor, will discover it."
She turned impatiently to Raoul, desiring him to go with her toDavid. Una refused to accompany them. The conviction that she had beenmistaken, deluded, filled her with an unconquerable aversion to meetingthe man for whom she had been willing to sacrifice so much. Aware of theunreasonableness of this feeling, she yet had no wish to conquer it. Toescape from this land of mysteries and terrors, to return to the simplefamiliar environment of Rysdale--to forget, if that were possible--wasnow her one desire. She did not attempt to explain or justify herself toSajipona. Nor was this necessary. To Sajipona, Una's anger and its causewere alike evident.
"Stay here, if you will, with Narva," said the queen, with real orfeigned indifference. "But remember, you have refused to save the manwhom you think is in danger."
Una did not reply. For the moment the old Indian sibyl, to whoseprotection she had been assigned, seemed a welcome refuge. Narva'sreserve, her silence, brought a negative sort of relief to her own moodsof anguish and indignation. Thus, without regret or misgiving, shewatched Raoul and Sajipona disappear through the portal that had firstadmitted her to the great hall of the palace.