|
The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from Montezuma's Daughter by H. Rider Haggard: their own destruction, and to the destruction of those who
worshipped them, as was decreed by One more powerful than they.
Now while we were talking the sun had sunk swiftly, so that all the
world was dark. But the light still lingered on the snowy crests
of the volcanoes Popo and Ixtac, staining them an awful red. Never
before to my sight had the shape of the dead woman whose
everlasting bier is Ixtac's bulk, seemed so clear and wonderful as
on that night, for either it was so or my fancy gave it the very
shape and colour of a woman's corse steeped in blood and laid out
for burial. Nor was it my phantasy alone, for when Montezuma had
finished upbraiding me he chanced to look up, and his eyes falling
Montezuma's Daughter |
