Guards: “They shall surely die, my Lord.”
Cipriano: “Yet my hand has touched the hand of Quetzalcoatl, and among the black leaves one sprung green, with the colour of Malintzi.”
An attendant came and lifted Cipriano’s sarape over his head, leaving his body bare to the waist. The guards likewise took off their sarapes.
Cipriano lifted up his fist, in which he held a little tuft of black feathers, or leaves.
Then he said slowly:
Cipriano turned to the four peons. He held out his fist with the four black twigs, to the first. This first one, a little man, peered at the leaves curiously.
“There is no green one,” he said sceptically.
“Good!” said Cipriano. “Then receive a black.”
And he handed him a black leaf.
“I knew it,” said the man, and he threw the leaf away with contempt and defiance.
The second man drew a black leaf. He stood gazing at it, as if fascinated, turning it round.
The third man drew a leaf whose lower half was green.
“See!” said Cipriano. “The green leaf of Malintzi!”
And he handed the last black leaf to the last man.
“Have I got to die?” said the last man.
“Yes.”