The mission which tzin Euet had undertaken to perform was essentially one of secrecy. The fact that he was little known outside of Tezcuco was greatly to his advantage, making it unnecessary for him to lay aside his personality. He assumed the character of a trader prospecting for future business. His primary object was to obtain certain information which he could not secure except by contact with his fellow Tezcucans, and then only through their confidence, which he was very successful in gaining.
The tzin was a young man of superior natural resources, and, being of an agreeable and affable disposition, his efforts were rewarded in a very satisfactory degree. He found the thoughtful men of his tribe, outside of Tezcuco, ready to talk sedition to anyone whom they could trust; and, as the sum of the tyrant's inhumanity grew in proportion with the passing of every sun, their language became more pronounced.
The young agitator quickly came to the conclusion that the times were almost ripe for insurrection, and decided to proceed at an early day to practical measures—which meant the organization of an army of resistance.
The attempted assassination of Hualcoyotl at his palace, and his sudden and mysterious disappearance, followed by the issuing of the king's proclamation, making him an outlaw with a price upon his life, when brought to the tzin's notice, caused him the deepest anxiety. Realizing, however, that his presence would be of no advantage to the fugitive, even could he reach him, he continued to prosecute his mission, holding, at all times, an open ear for further information regarding him. He obtained no additional intelligence of his friend, meanwhile, which worried him considerably; so much, indeed, that he decided, on arriving at Tlacopan, to return to Tezcuco in quest of it. He set out accordingly, and later on we find him at a small village within a short day's journey of his destination, where he has just entered a hostelry with a view to procuring supper and a night's lodging. On entering the hostelry he cast his eyes about him, as a person will at entering a public place, especially if a strange one. They fell upon a young man whose appearance was that of a hunter, and, for some undefinable cause—a congeniality of spirit possibly—which under peculiar conditions draws one person unconsciously toward another—his attention was instantly attracted to him. The young man was, seemingly, weary; for at the moment in which the tzin entered he was more sleeping than waking. He was disturbed by the look which was fixed upon him, and raised his eyes, revealing to us again the now familiar countenance of the hunter Cacami, who only a few hours before had saved, unawares, the life of the fugitive prince. An expression of inquiry came over his face, as much as to say: "Did you speak?"
Euetzin moved near to where he sat, and addressed him.
Cacami straightened himself up, and a conversation was opened.
Following a few incidental remarks, the tzin said:
"You appear to be a stranger here, like myself."
"Yes, I am; entirely so. My home is more than a day's journey from this place," replied Cacami.
"If I read you correctly, you are a Tezcucan," continued the tzin.
"If a man at this time may make such a claim, yes. I live with my father, who resides about two leagues north of the city of Tezcuco."
"Are you going to or from home?" inquired the tzin, hoping it might be the former, in which case he would have a companion for the rest of his journey.
"I am homeward bound, and have only stopped for the night, intending to go on in the morning."
"I am glad to hear you say that," replied the tzin, his face brightening. "My destination is Tezcuco, or near there," he continued, "and it would please me much to be permitted to join you for the remainder of my journey."
"Nothing would suit me better; so let us consider it settled that we will travel together," replied Cacami, well pleased.
"I find it very solitary traveling alone," pursued the inexperienced tzin. "A good companion is appreciable when one is on the road."
"Yes, that is true; and yet I have learned that a person may become accustomed to traveling unattended."
"You have the appearance of being a hunter; is that your occupation?" inquired Euetzin.
"Not exactly. I am what you might call a citizen hunter. I do not hunt with the object of gain. My father is a wealthy farmer and trader; consequently there is no hurry for me to choose an occupation. Being inclined to the chase, I devote a part of my time in its pursuit."
"You would make a fine soldier," remarked the tzin, his thoughts reverting to the subject in which he was immediately interested. "Have you never thought of the warrior's calling as being especially suitable for a man of your superior physique?"
"Yes, I have thought of it," replied Cacami, at the same time looking searchingly at his questioner. "And should the future bring the opportunity which would make it agreeable for me to do so, I may adopt the calling. I would not be a soldier of the ranks, however, for I could not endure the drudgery of such a life. I engage in the practice of arms a great deal, and delight in the pursuit."
"Then you are, no doubt, well skilled in using them."
"Yes, especially in handling the javelin. I have given that arm much study, and think I may claim to be fairly good at throwing it. The bow and maquahuitl are not strange to me; I can use them when it is necessary," he replied, showing confidence in his skill.
The conversation was here interrupted by the announcement of supper, and was not again renewed during the evening.
The morning succeeding the evening on which Euetzin and Cacami met in the public apartment of the hostelry was an auspicious one for the young men, promising them an enjoyable day's journey together. At a seasonable hour they took the road for Tezcuco, and stimulated by a delicious and bracing atmosphere, fairly bounded over the ground as they passed from the village into the open country. Notwithstanding the invigorating effect of the pure morning air upon them, they were not very communicative when first starting out. They had not yet awakened to an appreciation of the life and beauty which lay before them.
The country through which the travelers had to pass was grandly beautiful and picturesque, impressing the reflective beholder with a sublime conception of Nature's enchanting handiwork.
To the left of them, stretching away in the distance, were the placid waters of lake Tezcuco, on the unruffled bosom of which, here and there, floated the garden and home of some ingenious Aztec, the like of which a century later presented a scene of astonishment and wonder to the Spanish conquerors. To their right, gently rising toward the ascending sun, swept a view of incomparable loveliness—a view which was then unsullied by the touch of vandal hands; now, alas! marred and scarred by the march and tread of a rapacious and unappreciative civilization.
The day, which was one of sunshine and fruition, grew apace, and the young men became more companionable as their knowledge of each other widened. The tzin early inquired the name of his fellow sojourner, and, also, by making himself known, drew from him his views on tribal affairs. When he had gained this, to him, important information, he expressed himself as follows:
"I thank you for your frankness; and would add that I not only hope, but believe, our coming together at this time will lead to a true and profitable comradeship. Tezcuco needs the aid of all her true sons to reestablish her in her former place among the nations of Anahuac, to accomplish which the courage and patriotism of her people will be sorely tested. War to the death must be met and stubbornly waged ere that desirable end may be reached. In such a test of courage, where, I would ask, will be found the hunter, Cacami?"
"I would not be counted a boaster," replied the hunter; "but, when the test is required of me, the friend of Hualcoyotl may be assured that my arm will be found where maquahuitl and javelin shall find the most to do for Tezcuco's deliverance."
"You say well, O Cacami, and I commend you heartily!" exclaimed the tzin, approvingly. "The same spirit of loyalty which inspires you inspires all the best men of our tribe. Take heart with me, O friend, for the future holds, at least, a hope of freedom for our country."
The tzin's zeal affected his companion not a little, who added an unqualified wish that the hope might not be a vain one.
The day passed pleasantly away, bringing the wayfarers, at a late hour in the afternoon, to a point opposite Zelmonco villa, which was situated some distance off from the highway.
Cacami was counting on reaching Tezcuco, a league and a half further on, before night, where he purposed stopping until morning. When the time came for parting company, Euetzin interfered very materially with his plans by extending to him a cordial invitation to become his guest, pressing the invitation with so much earnestness that he reluctantly consented.
The young hunter had impressed the tzin most favorably, and, in addition to extending to him the hospitality of his home, he designed making an ally of him.
The villa was a full half league from the main thoroughfare, but the young men were good walkers, and soon had the satisfaction of ending their day's journey.
The park, fronting the villa, was gained; and as they passed up through it, Cacami was forcibly struck with its great attractiveness—a veritable hill of flowers, showing, in its conception, an advanced degree of tact and taste.
Teochma saw her beloved boy coming up the walk, and came hurriedly to meet him. He saluted her affectionately, and, in turn, was joyfully welcomed back to his home.
Cacami was kindly received, and on bended knee, as was the custom, rendered respectful obeisance to the mother of his friend.
"We give you a hearty welcome to Zelmonco," she said, cordially.
"Your kindness is most gratifying, especially since we meet as strangers," he humbly replied.
"We meet as strangers, 'tis true, but will part as friends, I'm sure," she answered, affably. "Our door is always open. The stranger may enter it, even as a friend. Come," she concluded, turning toward the villa door, at which they were met by Itlza, the sight of whom was a genuine surprise to Cacami. Euetzin had said very little to him regarding his family, and nothing at all of her. The young hunter was, therefore, not expecting to meet a maiden—especially one of such peculiar attractiveness.
The brother and sister greeted each other lovingly, and Cacami was made known to the latter. She received his salutation with coy reserve, and the surprised young man said:
"This is a pleasure I was not looking for. That my friend might have a sister never once entered my mind."
Observing the brightness of her beautiful, sparkling eyes, he was led to express almost abruptly, but in a voice full of unfeigned admiration, the thought they inspired:
"Itlza is a very pretty name," he said; "yet, if I might be permitted to do so, I would substitute another—one that would be peculiarly appropriate."
They all bent upon him an inquiring look, which encouraged him to go on. Continuing, he said, gayly: "'The Laughing-eyes'; would not that be delightfully expressive?"
Cacami's implied admiration for the rare beauty of Itlza's eyes, which was her redeeming attractiveness, was not a breach of any rule of native etiquette, but, to her friends and herself, only a pleasing mark of his appreciation. The tzin looked surprised, but not displeased; Teochma smiled a loving approval, while Itlza blushingly showed her gratification in the pleased look which lit up her face.
"Cacami is very free with his compliments," said the mother; "and, as a flatterer, might prove a dangerous acquaintance."
"I am not a flatterer, I assure you. My compliments are only bestowed where they are deserved," he replied, looking at Itlza.
"There, that will do for an introduction," quoth she, turning away.
The hunting outfit of the guest was passed to a servant to be cared for, and, following Itzla, all entered the villa.
A brief description of Cacami will not, we think, be out of place just here. He was tall and finely formed; straight as an arrow, and agile as an ocelotl. His countenance was, usually, placidity itself, though easily disturbed by an excited emotion. It was a pleasant face, and gave out a favorable impression—the expression of it being open and candid. His eyes were dark, but not so piercing black as were those of most of his race. There was no uncertainty or want of courage in their look; they were unhesitatingly fixed on the person or object before them with perfect frankness. His complexion was of the lighter cast, though showing the effects of exposure from his outdoor life. His mind had received the advantages of an early training—such advantages as were attainable for a wealthy farmer's son. The practical had not been overlooked. He was a farmer by education—a calling which was considered by the Aztecs a most honorable one. He had a strong passion for the chase, and of late years his time had been divided between the field and forest. He also delighted in the sports which were common among his people. This led him to become familiar with the use of arms, in which he had few, if any, superiors. His fine looks and genial disposition made him a favorite wherever he was personally known, giving him a decided advantage with the young folk.
The formalities of an introduction being over, the family endeavored to make their guest feel at ease. The customary refreshments were served, of which the hungry travelers partook liberally.
When the repast was ended, they all repaired to the drawing-room to have a talk.
The thoughts which were foremost in the tzin's mind were of his friend Hualcoyotl. Almost the first inquiry he made was of him.
"Can my mother tell us aught of the prince?" he asked; and, continuing, he said: "I have come all the way from Tlacopan to be informed, having failed to learn anything about him since his escape from the palace."
Teochma cast an inquiring look from Euetzin to Cacami, as much as to say, "Can we trust him?"
The tzin comprehended, and added:
"Cacami is a true and loyal friend, and may be taken into our confidence. My mother need have no fears on his account."
"It is well. Much depends on our guarding carefully the secrets of our home, in these times, from those we may not trust. It would not please the king to know that we had favored the prince," she answered.
Euetzin caught her meaning, and became deeply interested. Teochma continued:
"Hualcoyotl was here, at the villa, four days ago, remaining over one sun. He came in the night, and left the following evening. He had one attendant with him; Oza, I think he called him. If no ill has befallen them, they are now on the mountains, off toward Tlascala. The prince went there, hoping to find in the mountain fastnesses a safe refuge from his pursuers."
Euetzin looked the picture of surprise, and was slow to speak, while Cacami suddenly became deeply concerned; and, when Teochma concluded, said, somewhat abruptly and abstrusely:
"A vexing oversight, truly; and lacking in courage as well!"
All eyes were immediately turned upon him, and Teochma asked, much astonished at the remark:
"To what do you allude?"
"Forbear, O friends; I would not appear rude. I allude to an incident with which I had to do, on my way in from the mountains. Your information with reference to the prince's movements, good Teochma, I regard as coming to me in the light of a revelation."
"How so?" inquiringly questioned the now interested tzin.
"Your excellent mother has just informed us that Hualcoyotl left Zelmonco four days ago, accompanied by one servant, going in the direction of Tlascala. Two days later I met with an incident in which, I feel assured, I was his defender in an encounter with a band of Tepanec soldiers. I have said there was a vexing oversight, also a lack of courage; and, I now add, 'twas in my own conduct. Listen, and judge me, if you will. Two days ago, as I was coming from the mountains, beyond Chalco, I came suddenly on a party of Tepanec soldiers, who were making a violent assault upon a traveler. The man had defended himself the best he could, with a stout walking-stick, but there were too many against him. At the moment of my coming up he was on the point of yielding, and, a little later, would have been a prisoner. I grasped my sword, which I always carry when I go to the mountains, and made a vigorous attack upon them. A few effective strokes sent two of their number to earth and the rest to flight. The rescued traveler had one attendant, who was lying bound and helpless by the roadside. He was quickly released, and found to have received no bodily harm. The traveler was very grateful, and expressed himself in warm terms. He asked of me my name; but, for what I considered a sufficient reason, I begged that he would permit me to pass on unknown. From a peculiar remark he made, I was, at one time, almost led to inquire who he was. He said I had done a greater service than I could then be aware of, which struck me as containing a hidden meaning. Inadvertently, I decided not to make the inquiry, which, I see now, was an inexcusable oversight. Fearing a return of the soldiers, he again expressed his gratitude, and went on toward the mountains. I am quite convinced the rescued traveler was none other than Hualcoyotl."
"What was your reason for withholding your name?" asked the tzin.
"I had slain two of the king's men, under circumstances which laid me liable to the severest penalty. I considered the course taken the safest, not knowing who the traveler was."
"And why do you now look upon your course as an oversight and lacking in courage?" questioned the tzin.
"For the reason that, through fear of the tyrant, Maxtla, I was silent, making no exertion to learn who it was I had defended," replied Cacami, in a self-accusing spirit.
"The traveler, quite likely, would have acted in the matter just as you did: declining to inform you. In fact, if it was the prince, I am sure he would; for any guarantee you might have given, as to your identity, would have been insufficient to satisfy a man fleeing from the wrath of the king. I do not think you have cause for self-blame at all, but, on the contrary, have for self-approval. You may have been overcautious—nothing more. Your conduct was anything but cowardly, and, I would assure you, it will not go unrewarded, should our cause become propitious. Hualcoyotl has a kind heart, and does not forget a generous act, especially where courage is involved, as in this instance. If the rescued traveler proves to have been the prince, Tezcuco can never render adequate honor to the hunter, Cacami, for saving his life," spoke the tzin, whose great affection for his friend made him deeply grateful to his rescuer.
"I do not look upon the act of rescuing the traveler as being more than the discharge of an obligation which one man owes to another. I would have done the same had it been the poorest slave," replied Cacami, in a depreciating manner.
"I am sure that you would; that such is the case does not detract from the worthiness of the act, but rather magnifies it. A man who acts in such emergencies from a sense of duty is deserving of the highest consideration. I have only words of praise to bestow upon you. Our love for Hualcoyotl makes the act of saving his life doubly meritorious. Language fails to express what we feel," returned the tzin, exhibiting a deep sensibility.
Euetzin was more than ever impressed with the idea of making an ally of his new friend; and, later, sought to gain his consent to join him in his work. He explained to him the nature and object of it, and assured him how gratified he would be to have his assistance.
Cacami expressed his gratitude for the tzin's confidence, and said, further:
Should I follow my own inclination I would join you at once; but, notwithstanding I am beyond the age of paternal control, respect for the will of my father demands that he should be consulted first. I have no doubt as to the result of a conference with him, for he is a strong advocate of Tezcucan independence. You may count on a favorable report from me, I think, if it will please you to wait."
"It is well. Your regard for the will of your father is praiseworthy. I trust to your discretion in the matter, and will only add: do not forget the importance of a silent tongue."
"Be assured, my good friend, that your secrets and plans shall be as safely guarded as my life. I will be only too glad if they shall become, in part, my own."
The evening passed away pleasantly and quite advantageously for our young friend Cacami. A high estimation of him was formed by the several members of the family. Itlza looked upon him as a real hero, and admired him accordingly.
At an early hour the party separated, and the weary young men, anxious to find the rest they needed, retired to their couches.
The hunter, Cacami, was heart free when he first entered Zelmonco Park, but not unsusceptible to heart wounds when subjected to such fascinating glances as greeted him from Itlza's eyes. An impassioned admiration for her was quickly awakened, and a way prepared for him to become an easy prey to Cupid's subtle influence.
When about to leave the villa the next morning, to continue his homeward journey, he sought the maiden with a view to having a parting word with her. Great was his disappointment when he learned that she was absent, and that no one knew where she was. He had counted on finding in his departure an opportunity in which to reveal to her, by word or action, something of the feelings with which she had inspired him. But the fates appeared to order it otherwise, and he would be compelled to forego the pleasure such a parting would afford him. Concealing his disappointment under a semblance of cheerfulness he bade his host and hostess adieu and started for the highway.
Leaving the park he came to the road leading away from the villa, and turned his face toward Tezcuco. As he did so the first object to meet his eye and arouse him from the effects of his disappointment was Itlza herself, approaching from the opposite direction. Was it chance or design which caused the maiden to be there just at that time? She alone could have answered. But no matter; the sight of her lifted Cacami from the slough of despond, so to speak, into which he had fallen, and made him doubly glad in the sudden revulsion of his feelings. His whole appearance was changed in an instant, and with quickened pulse he hastened forward to meet her. He came up to her with pleasure beaming from his countenance, and in accents full of tender meaning exclaimed:
"O Laughing-eyes, light of thy home! why were you not present to gladden my departure from the villa but now? To Cacami the brightness of Zelmonco was gone because you were not there to receive his good-by."
"Why should my absence so affect the hunter, Cacami, when only a night hath divided the days which have made us known to each other?" she answered, naively.
"It is not the number of days that affect our lives, O Laughing-eyes, but what they bring," he replied. "To Cacami those beautiful, sparkling orbs, your eyes, O Itlza, are as two newly risen stars. To have been deprived of the privilege this morning of again looking into their wonderful depths would have robbed his stay at Zelmonco of its greatest charm, and cast a regretful shadow on his pathway home."
"Cacami is neither discreet nor wise in the use of language. The words he speaks are pleasing; and Itlza, being a woman, might believe them spoken in sincerity, when only gallantry is intended. Have a care, O Cacami, that thy tongue lead thee not into deception," she replied with a coquettish air.
"I pray you, Laughing-eyes, believe me sincere. Were I possessed of a deceitful tongue, which I can not think I am, I could not impose it on the sister of my good friend, the tzin. That would be baseness of which Cacami is not capable," he protested. "The clear crystal fountains which spring from the side of yonder mountain are not more pure than are the thoughts which he holds for Laughing-eyes," the young hunter went on, with an earnestness which bespoke sincerity.
"Cacami may be sincere, and his words well meant, but Itlza should not hear them. Let us talk of something else. Have you a sister?"
"Yes, two, who will give me welcome home when I cross my father's threshold," he replied with respectful deference.
"You ought to be very happy, then, in your homecomings," she replied.
"So I have ever been. It is a good and pleasant home which always waits me, and it will be very hard to leave it," he returned, with a shade of sadness in his voice.
"Why should you leave it?" she questioned, her voice tinged with a responsive sympathy.
"Why should anyone leave their childhood's home? Even Laughing-eyes will one day go from her beautiful Zelmonco to find another home. To do so is her natural destiny, as it is mine to leave the home I love," he answered, with an expression of tenderness, at the same time watching closely to observe the effect his words might have upon her. If she suspected a hidden meaning in them she did not show it.
"Is it far to your home?" she asked, appearing heedless of his impassioned voice.
"As far beyond as it is from here to Tezcuco—about four hours," he answered. "Your question admonishes me that I must not tarry. I would that Laughing-eyes will hold me kindly in her thoughts. Could I be assured that she will, it would please me more than she can know," he said, seriously.
"You will come again and I will know you better; till then good-by," she answered airily, accompanying her words with the same fascinating glance which had won his admiration. His already excited pulse quickened under its influence.
As she hastened away in the direction of the villa he looked after her with a strange, uncertain sensation, which made him feel as if he had found a priceless gem and was now about to lose it. He watched her receding form until out of sight, and then mentally soliloquized:
"Why should this strange maiden so impress me? More beautiful have I looked upon, and yet no such feelings as she has awakened have ever stirred me before. Can it be that I have found a mate in Laughing-eyes?" His concluding thought was not an unpleasant one, as the expression on his face clearly indicated. Again his steps were turned toward Tezcuco, and with rapid strides he widened the space which separated him from the object of his thoughts.
Cacami may not have found a mate in the sister of his newly made friend; yet, if appearances were any criterion, had the object of his first love.
Itlza was not void of self-pride, and following on the very favorable impressions she had formed of the young hunter, the flattering words addressed to her by him were not without effect. She recalled some of them with a pleasurable satisfaction, and held them as something to be remembered, a very dangerous thing for a young girl like her to do if she would not be ensnared in the meshes of love's enthralling web.
Cacami returned from his home to the villa about noon the following day. Euetzin was expecting him, as he had assured the tzin that he would report the result of a conference with his father immediately, let the conclusion be what it might. When he came up to Euetzin, who had gone to the lower side of the park to meet him, it did not require words to communicate his decision. The glad confirmation of the tzin's wishes was seen on his radiant countenance.
"My friend is pleased, and I do not have to inquire the cause," said he, in greeting him. "I read upon your face, Cacami, that we are to be comrades in the fight for freedom."
"Yes, we are," returned Cacami. "This good right arm," he continued, raising it by way of emphasis, "I have pledged, through my father, to the cause of Tezcuco and her prince. Your proposition, that I should become your assistant in the work which you have undertaken was favorably considered, and I am here to join you."
"Your decision is gratifying. In it the cause which has become so dear to me has found a strong arm to labor in its defense, and I a worthy comrade. But come, you have traveled, and are, no doubt, hungry and thirsty. Refreshments are waiting."
As they were ascending the hill, through the park, Cacami inquired:
"Have you had any news from the palace of the prince, since your return?"
"What news might I expect? Hualcoyotl is not there."
"True, the prince is not there, but Itzalmo—is not that the name of the old man who was his tutor?"
"It is, but what of him? Your words remind me that I have been remiss; I should have gone to Itzalmo ere this," replied the tzin.
"That you could not have done, for Itzalmo is in prison."
The tzin stopped and looked at Cacami as if he did not comprehend, and said:
"In prison, did you say? And for what offense, pray?"
"For what offense I did not learn."
"Where and when did you hear of his imprisonment?"
"On the streets of Tezcuco, yesterday. Six days ago, 'tis said, the king's officer took him to Azcapozalco," answered Cacami.
"And he has not returned?"
"No, he is still in prison."
"I must learn more of this matter, immediately," returned the tzin thoughtfully.
They entered the house, where Cacami met with a kindly greeting from Teochma and Itlza.
After refreshments were served, Euetzin made known his purpose of going to Tezcuco to obtain further information relative to Itzalmo. He left Cacami to be entertained by Itlza, observing that she could show him the beauties of the park, and thus keep him from becoming lonesome.
O, thoughtless brother! Lonesome, indeed! Nothing could have delighted Cacami more than the prospect of a whole afternoon with Itlza.
Euetzin had been gone quite a while, and Itlza, as he had suggested, had taken Cacami over the ground which comprised the villa park, showing him the most interesting of its features, of which the family were justly proud. She had finally brought him to her favorite retreat, in the shade of an old oak tree, at the foot of which stood a rustic bench, and, a little way off from it, a beautiful flowing fountain, which added coolness to the spot, and made it especially inviting.
Itlza was seated on the bench beneath the tree, toying with a bunch of odorous flowers, while Cacami reclined on the ground, almost at her feet.
"You are fleet of tongue, O Cacami, and your voice is like the cooing of a dove. The words fall from your lips as readily as flowing water from a hillside spring. But the thoughts which fill your mind are hidden. Who but yourself may read them?" she was saying, provokingly, in answer to something he had said.
"Surely, Laughing-eyes, you can not think me capable of holding thoughts, which are not in accord with my words? I may be impulsive and hasty, but not deceitful," he answered, with an honest emphasis on his words.
It was clearly a case of love at first sight with Cacami, and his impulsiveness led him to show it plainly. Itlza was more discreet, and would not so easily surrender to the dictates of a smitten heart. She was, nevertheless, fast falling under the influence of the subtle little archer, though, woman-like, persisted in fighting it off. In answer to Cacami's expostulation, she said:
"I would not seem unkind, but would put a check upon your tongue. You are scarcely more than a stranger to me. Two days ago you did not know that such a person lived as I; and yet, in that short time, you are pleading to hear a song from the little love-bird which nestles in Itlza's heart. Know you not, O Cacami, that the little bird is chary, and may be easily frightened away?" she replied archly, but kindly.
"Your words are severe, Laughing-eyes, yet of them I may be deserving, for I have been impetuous; but I can not think my conduct should drive you from me, in that you are surely jesting. I am not a trifler, Itlza, and, believe me, never one spoke more sincerely. Only bid me hope, and I will be your silent slave."
We would not have the reader think that Cacami was foolish, for he was not. He was unquestionably stricken with that peculiar affection which, ever since the first man and woman were brought face to face, has held the loftiest minds, and brought under subjection the strongest wills, making slaves of all, willing or unwilling, to the object through the attraction of which the affection is produced, causing men of intelligence, not infrequently, to fall into ridicule. Still, recognizing the innateness of the thing, we look upon such conduct as a natural consequence.
Cacami's fault was in not restraining his impulsiveness. He read in the words which fell from Itlza's lips that she was not wholly indifferent to his wooing, and, as a last earnest, plead for a hope.
Itlza's reply was not very encouraging.
"To bid you hope might be to deceive you," she said. "No, you must not ask it of me. If the time should come when the little love-bird would sing its song for Cacami, he shall know it. Promise, then, to speak no more of love until you have permission, and Itlza will be your friend."
"A wish from you, O Laughing-eyes, is a command to me. I will do the best I can; but should I fail, it will be for love of you." He spoke pathetically, and Itlza's heart went out to him with a sudden impulse, and a more adroit wooer than he might have won there and then, but Cacami had promised, and the opportunity passed unimproved.
"I have your promise, then?" asked the persistent Itlza.
"Yes," he answered, resignedly.
She laughed at his sober acquiescence and pathetic yes, and said:
"Your ready submission almost persuades me to believe you sincere. But, there, do not speak," she suddenly added, anticipating him, as he looked up at her fondly, showing in his expression that he was about to put some thought into words. She placed her hand over his mouth, and continued: "I do believe you would violate your promise before it is cold upon your lips."
He put her hand away gently, and said:
"You shall not again have occasion to check me. Laughing-eyes shall learn that Cacami can hold his tongue."
Euetzin came back from Tezcuco toward evening, and found the twain still lingering under the oak tree near the fountain. The mother came from the house, too, and a half hour was passed in listening to an account of his visit to the city and what it revealed, at the conclusion of which they went in for refreshments.
The day ended, and night followed, bringing the morning, when Euetzin, with his newly acquired friend and comrade, set out to continue the prosecution of his patriotic mission.
Tenochtitlan, later the city of Mexico, was founded by the primitive Mexicans (Aztecs), early in the fourteenth century, about two hundred years prior to the advent of the Spaniards on the Anahuac. The city was situated, originally, on a group of small islands in the southwestern portion of lake Tezcuco, nearly one league from the shore, and was, for more than a century, a very frail and peculiarly constructed place. Its houses were built chiefly of wood, reeds, and rushes, with the exception, perhaps, of the principal structures andteacollis(temples), which were, doubtless, of sun-dried blocks of clay. Many of the houses, for want of space, were built over the water, supported by driven piles, upright posts, and were approachable in many instances only by canoe. A canoe was therefore an indispensable possession to an inhabitant of the island city.
The absence of stone in the construction of buildings in the first century of the city's existence was, no doubt, attributable to the fact that it was reached by canoe, only, previous to the construction of causeways; after which followed a rapid transformation in its composition and appearance, until, at the time of the conquest, it had become a wonderful city of stone palaces and temples, with grand squares and broad avenues.
Notwithstanding Tenochtitlan, at the time of which we write, was greatly inferior in its construction to the other large cities of the valley, it was a veritable beehive in the animation and density of its population.
It was the capital of a fierce and aggressive people, who were not only brave, but cunning, in their aggression, which led to their complete supremacy under the last Montezuma.
The question as to why the Aztecs chose so inconvenient a location on which to build their capital will naturally present itself to the mind of the reader. We have only space to say the idea was of miraculous origin, the result of a priestly superstition.[8]
There was a feeling of deep respect for the rights of nations maintained among the Anahuacans, and any violation of them engendered a general hostility toward the violator.
Sympathy hardly ever led a tribe to take sides between other tribes at war. Only when the grievances were common did they unite their forces.
The Mexicans were decidedly friendly to the cause of the Tezcucans in their war with the Tepanecs, and yet stood aloof and saw them humbled in the very dust. Their sympathies were still with them in their degradation.
In consequence of this friendly feeling, many Tezcucans were to be found in their capital and territory; some of whom had withdrawn from Tezcuco for the betterment of their condition; others because of their hatred for the nation which had subverted their government and subjected them to an onerous and hateful vassalage.
Old warriors, who preferred voluntary exile to servility; merchants and traders, who thought to find a better field in which to ply their vocations, and nobles, whose titles, since the death of their king and the subversion of his government, were only nominal, were to be found among them—all living and waiting in the hope of a restoration of their kingdom.
The determined efforts of King Maxtla to destroy Prince Hualcoyotl had not improved the former's standing in the Mexican capital, but, on the other hand, had produced just the opposite effect. The Tezcucans were outspoken in their denunciation of him and his government, and nothing was said or done to check them.
Euetzin had discovered this antagonistic feeling among his countrymen, and was now abroad to take advantage of it. His first effective work, after leaving home the second time, was done in the Mexican capital, among them.
Situated on the city's market place was an expansive structure, which was one story in height—their buildings were very seldom higher. The building referred to was used principally as a store-house for unsold marketable products, and was divided up into suitable apartments—rooms and booths. In one of the rooms, fronting on thetianguez, was a cafe, or restaurant, kept by a Tezcucan. A part of the room—the back portion—was cut off from the front by means of a curtain, for the convenience of parties desiring to be served privately. There was a door opening from this part of the room into a hallway, which extended back the full length of the building. Some distance back, at the side of this hallway, three or four steps were situated, which led downward to a very short hall, from which an entrance was to be had to an apartment in which meetings, often of a secret character, were held.
It was night. The streets and squares of the city were almost deserted. At this hour an unusual influx to the Tezcucan's cafe was taking place. Men were seen to pass in, at brief intervals, and disappear. Presently, two young men entered, and one of them addressing the proprietor, said:
"We are seeking friends."
"Where from?" he inquired.
"Tezcuco," was the brief reply.
"The way is clear; pass in."
Nothing further was said. The party passed back and out into the hallway, along which they went to the steps previously referred to. Here they paused a moment, in a listening attitude. Hearing nothing of a disturbing character, they descended. A few steps brought them to a door, before which they stopped and gave one rap. The following response was elicited:
"What seek ye?"
"Our own," replied the same person who had addressed the keeper of the cafe. The door was opened, and they entered. Passing on to another door, two raps were given, and a voice from within inquired:
"What have you to offer in pledge?"
"That which, if taken, can not be restored: life," answered one of the seekers for admission.
"It is a royal offering. Enter." The door was opened, and the young men were admitted. For a moment, while the door was again closed, they stood in black darkness; then a curtain was drawn to one side, discovering to them a low, dingy, dimly lighted chamber. Men, old and young, who had entered in the same guarded manner as they, were seated about the room. The newcomers were told to pass in, which they did, and were seated like those who had preceded them.
Perfect silence prevailed while the chamber was filling up. Upon each man's face was a stern and determined look. Not a sign of recognition passed between them. It was an assembly of people whose taciturnity was always pronounced under circumstances of an impressive character.
When the proper time arrived, a man of middle age and commanding presence arose and addressed the meeting. He was evidently a prominent Tezcucan. He said:
"The hour has come when the ear should be open to catch the sound, and the tongue silent that it may not escape. Euetzin, son of the noble Euzelmozin, is here. He bears a message from his brother Tezcucan." Turning to the foremost of the two young men with whom we entered, he continued: "Let Euetzin speak. The men of his tribe have ears, and they are open."
Euetzin it was, sure enough, who now arose to address the assembly. Amid the profoundest silence, he began, using a metaphorical expression, speaking in a very impressive manner:
"The lion hath made his spring, but the prey he sought was the cunning fox. The fox escaped, and the lion is full of wrath." He paused a moment, and then continued, changing his manner of speech: "Men of Tezcucan blood—you who love and revere the memory of a noble though fallen king, and a country once proud and happy—give ear. I am here," he went on, "to arouse you from the lethargy of a hopeless indifference, and to assure you, as I believe, that Tezcuco may yet be free. Though our prince is a fugitive, outlawed, with a price placed upon his life; the land which gave us birth trodden under the heel of a usurping tyrant, and our people made subject to a shameful vassalage; yet there still lives in the hearts of these people a patriotic love of country, which, if stirred, will break asunder the shackles which bind them, and bid defiance to the authors of their degradation." The tzin spoke with remarkable force, and was listened to with the profoundest attention. "Are we men, or are we only slaves," he vociferated, "that we shake not off the spell which binds us hand and foot, and holds the tongue till it speaks not? Awake, ye men of Tezcuco, awake! and let your ears be open; for the voice of your prince cries from the mountain fastnesses for help. Shall it be a vain cry, or shall it find a quick response in the hearts of his people and a speedy resistance to his despotic persecutor? If you are true to the memory of our good king, who was slain for naught but conquest, then put forth a hand and let us raise high the standard he loved: the standard of our own Tezcuco, and pause not until her loyal sons everywhere are enrolled under it, and the usurper has been driven by our patriotic legions beyond her borders.
"He who will join me in the glorious work of redeeming Tezcuco from dishonor and a hated vassalage rise, and, with his hand over his heart, repeat after me the obligation which shall pledge us, arm and life, to the cause of our country and prince."
Every man in the chamber quickly stood up and was heard to repeat, in deep and solemn tones, the following, to them, awful obligation:
"Tezcuco, my own once illustrious, but now degraded Tezcuco! my life, and all I have, I pledge and obligate to thee in defense of thy prince, his cause and people! I swear it, and, failing in my duty, may my blood run red on the altar of Huitzil,[9]whose aid I now invoke!" A moment of impressive silence followed, and the men resumed their seats. Euetzin continued:
"In this hour, life and motion have been infused into the cause of Tezcuco, which many have looked upon as lost. We have each, by our obligation, made ourselves the active moving element in its sudden resuscitation. What shall be the outcome? What shall be the end of this altogether splendid beginning? Be this our unqualified answer: Tezcuco shall be free!"
The assembly was thoroughly aroused, and during a moment's pause in the tzin's speech a spontaneous outburst of enthusiasm took place. "Tezcuco shall be free!" was the reiterated acclaim which resounded through the chamber. When quiet was restored the tzin went on:
"And now, since we are pledged, let us, every man, be up and doing. Let no loyal Tezcucan be overlooked. Move silently and quickly, ceasing not the work until the fire of patriotism, which has been enkindled in our hearts to-night, shall have spread to the farthest borders of Anahuac, and every true friend of Tezcuco has espoused her cause, and enrolled himself under the banner of Hualcoyotl and liberty. Let not your ears be closed, for the call will surely come which will claim the fulfillment of your obligation."
When the young conspirator concluded and had taken his seat, an old warrior rose up and said a few encouraging words. He spoke as follows:
"The spirit of loyalty and devotion evinced by our young leader, the tzin, for his unfortunate country and prince, does honor to Euzelmozin, his noble father, who was my friend. Age has left the Matzatl a weak and broken sword. His day of fighting is past; yet the Matzatl would live to see his country rescued from the hand of the spoiler. Young men, hearken to the words of the young tzin and follow his counsel. Matzatl has faith in the son of Euzelmozin, and is assured that he will lead you to victory. Our brother, whose words first greeted us to-night, spoke wisely when he said: 'The hour has come when the ear should be open to catch the sound, and the tongue silent that it may not escape.' See to it that ye hear the sound and hold it."
Others, including Cacami, addressed the assembly briefly, urging a faithful adherence to the cause which they had sworn with their all to defend.
At a suggestion from Euetzin a permanent organization was formed, which was designated a council, and an experienced warrior chosen to officiate as its chief. Thus was the object of the meeting attained; the first step toward the organization of an army accomplished, and the hearts of those present inspired with confidence in their cause, and zeal to labor for its promotion and final establishment.
The meeting had been brought about through the influence of the tzin, with the assistance of a few leading spirits, whose special duty was to see each one personally and instruct him in the passwords, that no man who was not known to be true and loyal might gain admission.
The men quietly dispersed and the world outside was none the wiser that an organization was begun, having for its end an object freighted with consequences, the measure of which was not comprehended by the originators themselves.
The same proceeding was enacted in every city and town where Tezcucans were found in sufficient numbers to make it possible. Not only were Euetzin and Cacami engaged in it, but others who had entered the work with heart and soul imbued with the spirit of resistance and a life pledged to the accomplishment of their country's liberation. It was all being done with such quiet stealth that no move or sound gave evidence of the rapidly spreading conspiracy.