Resting on
this edging and against the wall of the shaft, was a massive block of
stone sculptured with the picture writing of the Aztecs. I glanced at
the writing, which I could now read well, and saw that it recorded
the burying of the treasure in the first year of Cuitlahua, Emperor of
Mexico, and also a most fearful curse on him who should dare to steal
it. Beyond us and at right angles to the shaft ran another passage, ten
paces in length and high enough for a man to walk in, which led to a
chamber hollowed in the earth, as large as that wherein I write to-day
at Ditchingham. By the mouth of this chamber were placed piles of adobe
bricks and mortar, much as the blocks of hewn stone had been placed in
that underground vault at Seville where Isabella de Siguenza was bricked
up living.
'Who dug this place?' I asked.
'Those who knew not what they dug,' answered Guatemoc. 'But see, here
is our companion. Now, my brother, I charge you be surprised at nothing
which comes to pass, and be assured I have good reason for anything that
I may do.'
Before I could speak again the Aztec noble was at our side. Then those
above began to lower the jars and sacks of treasure, and as they reached
us one by one, Guatemoc loosed the ropes and checked them, while the
Aztec and I rolled them down the passage into the chamber, as here in
England men roll a cask of ale.
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