LAKE TEZCUCO, 1400 +

A PRINCE OF ANAHUAC
A HISTORI-TRADITIONAL STORY
ANTEDATING THE AZTEC EMPIRE

BY

JAMES A. PORTER

GALION, OHIO
THE CRAWFORD COMPANY
PUBLISHERS

CINCINNATI
Press of C. T. Krebbiel
248-250 Walnut Street

Copyright, 1894, by James A. Porter.
All Rights Reserved.

CONTENTS

PREFACE.

In placing this volume before the public we would ask the critical reader to regard with leniency its imperfections, in view of the fact that an exigency, arising through serious misfortune to the writer, made the issue a necessity.

The narrative is based upon the Tezcucan historian, Ixtlilxochitl's, brief account of the overthrow of his ancestral government by Tezozomoc, the Tepanec king, in 1418; and its restoration, under Prince Nezahualcoyotl, eight or ten years later.

The wonderful experience of Nezahualcoyotl—Hungry Fox—(abbreviated, for convenience, to 'Hualcoyotl) is made the nucleus around which the story is woven. So far as possible, the incidents related of him, his condemnation to death by Maxtla, the son and successor of Tezozomoc, his remarkable escapes therefrom, and other personal trials, have been given in accordance with the historian's account. The descriptive portions, including what relates to the country and manners of the people, are based upon conclusions drawn from reading a traditional history, and, therefore, to some extent, hypothetical; yet are, no doubt, quite as correct as a great deal of what has been written and put out as authentic.

The narrative is a representation of the writer's conception as to how the triumph of Tezcuco over her oppressors might have been brought about, together with such incidental situations and characterization as appear best suited to make it attractive. Whether or not success has been attained in the work, the public must decide.

The characters introduced, with the exception of Hualcoyotl and Maxtla, which are historical, are fictitious, created to meet the exigencies of the situations.

The pronunciation of names will be greatly simplified by the reader bearing in mind that x and ch are convertible, the sound of sh being substituted, as in Ix, which is pronounced Ish; Teochma—Te-osh-ma; Xochitl—Zosh-itl, and Ixtlilchoatl—Ish-thlil-sho-atl. S being an unused letter, z is frequently given a soft sound, as in tzin, which is pronounced tsin; Euetzin—U-et-sin; Oza—Os-a; Itzalmo—I-tsal-mo, and Itlza—I-tel-sa. H is silent, as in Hualcoyotl, which is pronounced U-al-co-yotl; Hualla—U-al-la, and maquahuitl—ma-ka-u-itl.

With these brief explanations we conclude our preface, hoping that our labor has not been in vain, but that the production of it may furnish some instruction and a few hours' pleasurable pastime.

The Author.

INTRODUCTION.

The great valley of Anahuac—the valley of Mexico—if not now, was once a grand and beautiful spot, such as is rarely found upon the face of our terraqueous globe. When nearest its natural state, in the time when its inhabitants directed their efforts to beautifying and not to marring it, it might well have been denominated an Eden. We refer to that period in its transition which covered a century or two prior to the fall of Montezuma.

The majority of the people of Anahuac were not, strictly speaking, Aztecs, but became so by centralization: the Montezumas and their immediate predecessors becoming, by the trend of events, masters of the situation.

The great Aztec empire had scarcely a half century of existence, and was preceded by a condition of things in which tribal distinction prevailed, the Aztec being only one of many tribes, and not greatly superior, if superior at all, to some of its neighbors. In fact, the Aztecs, prior to the overthrow of the Tepanec empire, unquestionably occupied a position of inferiority. From this time on, however, their power and influence may be said to have rapidly increased, until their supremacy was assured in the formation of an empire with their ruling prince at its head.

That the reader, who is not informed with respect to the Anahuacans and the conditions which prevailed among them, may be better prepared for an intelligent perusal of our story, the following brief account of them is presented.

They were a remarkable people, in many respects; and, when the lack of opportunities which hindered, and the peculiar conditions which influenced them, are taken into account, were wonderfully intelligent and well advanced in civilization. Although of the Indian race, they had nothing in common with their red brethren of the north in their habits and manners.

Their religion was based on an incongruous and exaggerated mythology, which, through the influence of superstition and the machinations of a perniciously insinuating priesthood, resulted in idol worship and the terribly vitiating practice of human sacrifice. They believed in a supreme being, whom they supplicated, but in an indirect way. They were unable to conceive of a personal unity so comprehensive in attributes of perfection as is the Great Creator and Savior of man, and, therefore, supplicated through inferior ministers—presiding deities, represented in great images set up in their teocallis—temples.

They had a system of education, which embraced a traditional history, astronomy, mechanics, arithmetic, and a means of communicating ideas by written signs, designated hieroglyphical painting, which was imparted to the youth through the medium of a public school, under the management of the priesthood.

Their domestic habits, and the rules regulating intercourse between the sexes, were most advantageous for the women. They, unlike their red sisters of the north, and, we might add, some of the whiter ones of Europe, were required to do no labor that was counted the man's, but were left strictly to the performance of their domestic duties. They were treated with the greatest consideration, especially by their husbands; and, when sought after in marriage, were courted in a manner truly chivalrous.

Of their young women we quote from a well-known and authentic writer: "The Aztec maiden was treated by her parents with a tenderness from which all reserve was banished…. They conjured her to preserve simplicity in her manners and conversation, uniform neatness in her attire, with strict attention to personal cleanliness. They inculcated modesty as the great ornament of a woman, and implicit reverence for her husband a duty."

When circumstances would allow of it the women beguiled the time in the lighter work of adornment; or, not infrequently, passed it in quiet indolence. It is said of them that they were quite pretty, not at all like what may be seen to-day in their miserable descendants. Their long and profuse black hair was usually confined by a web of some kind, or adorned with wreaths of flowers, or strings of glittering beads, formed from the precious metals and the richer gems of stone and pearl. A scarf was sometimes worn upon the head, the fashion or design of which we will not attempt to describe. There is scarcely anything said by writers of their dress. We may infer, however, that it was worn with a view to convenience, neatness, and show. The prevailing skirt, we dare say, was of a length which did not hamper the movement, but was, nevertheless, a work of art, as were the jackets and leggings which were worn by the higher classes, in which elaboration and richness of decoration were often indulged to a degree approaching gorgeousness.

The sexes shared alike in occasions of festivity. They indulged in banqueting and other social gatherings, which were conducted with elegance and a remarkable degree of refinement. We quote briefly on this point: "The halls were scented with perfumes and the courts strewed with odoriferous flowers, which were distributed in profusion among the guests as they arrived. Cotton napkins and ewers of water were placed before them as they took their seats at the board; for the venerable ceremony of ablution before and after eating was punctiliously observed." Here is evidence of an elevated social condition, and certainly would indicate the obtaining of a high regard for forms in which love of the beautiful is shown and a commendable decency inculcated.

They smoked tobacco and indulged in intoxicants—marks of civilization, but to become drunken was a disgrace, which was punishable in the young.

The governments were in some instances republican in the manner of operating them, though subject to the rule of a prince whose position and rights were inherited, and who was surrounded by a class of persons dignified as nobles. However, the disposition of the king had much to do with restricting or extending the privileges of his subjects, which occasionally resulted in despotism, as in the case of the Tepanecs.

The people were encouraged to become producers, especially in the matter of agriculture. This branch of industry was closely studied, and, considering the disadvantages labored under by the farmer in the absence of draft animals, was very successfully conducted. They appeared to understand the management of the ground, the dryness of which was relieved by irrigation.

The principal products of the farm were maize, cacao (chocolate), and a variety of garden vegetables—the food supply—while cotton and maguey furnished the material from which various kinds of cloth and paper were produced, and we are told the land teemed with an abundance thereof.

Slavery existed in various phases, the conditions being fixed according to the circumstances governing the case. Much of the labor was, of course, done by this class of persons.

The forests were carefully preserved and heavy penalties imposed to prevent their destruction.

The men were not permitted to pass their time in idleness, but were furnished employment by the government in the promotion of public improvements, such as the building of great aqueducts and highways, and expansive public edifices, palaces and temples, an example of public economy worthy of imitation by the more enlightened people of the world.

Polygamy was practiced according to the means and inclination of the individual. It was mostly confined to the nobility, however.

With all their severity the laws protected a man completely in his personal rights, not only as a proprietor and master, but as a slave.

The marriage relation was regarded with the greatest reverence and adhered to with fidelity.

The sovereign was especially protected in his marital affairs, death being visited upon the man who in the least degree usurped his place in the affections of a wife or one chosen to be a wife, and the woman concerned, we infer, was not held guiltless, but on the other hand was counted particeps criminis.

With these few references and the information with which the narrative abounds, the reader, we feel, will be enabled to proceed intelligently and with satisfaction in its perusal.

A PRINCE OF ANAHUAC.

CHAPTER I.

In a private and secluded apartment of his ancestral palace sat Huälcōyōtl,[ [1] the then reduced prince of Tezcuco, deeply engrossed in the mysteries of some hieroglyphical manuscript lying on a table before him. While thus engaged, his personal servant, Ozā, appeared at the door of his apartment, and paused in an attitude of waiting. The prince, happening to look up, saw him, and said:

"What is your errand, Oza?"

"If it will please my master, Itzalmo would have speech with him," replied he.

"Bid Itzalmo come; and, Oza, stand without; I may want you."

In the early part of the fifteenth century, and about one hundred years prior to the conquest of Mexico by Cortes, the Anahuac was just entering on its "Golden Era." It bloomed then, as it never has since, with an almost endless variety of tropical vegetation, and under the skillful hand of its inhabitants was made to appear like a vast park or garden. Its cities were marvelous in the peculiarity of their construction. On its lakes were beautiful floating gardens; emparked villas—charming landscapes within a landscape—dotted it over, and groves of magnificent forest trees—the oak, cypress, and other timbers, which raised their imposing heights toward heaven—stood sentinel, as it were, over the beautiful vales and lakes below.

Of the many tribes of people then occupying the Anahuac, the Tezcucans, Tepanecs, Mexicans (Aztecs), and Tlacopans were among the larger and most prominent. Our narrative has to do with all these, but more particularly with the first named, who were the descendants of the Acolhuans, whose advent to the Anahuac took place near the close of the twelfth century, and nearly simultaneously with that of the Mexicans and Chichimecs—the latter, possibly, the race from which sprang the Tepanecs and others of the more savage tribes.

The Acolhuans were a mild and peaceably disposed people, and intelligently superior. Their descendants, the Tezcucans, so called from the name of their chief city, inherited their admirable characteristics, and sustained their superiority for intelligence.

The laws which governed the Tezcucans, as a nation, were, comparatively speaking, just and equitable, having in them little of an oppressive nature, which can not be said of some of the other tribes. A few years previous to the time at which our story opens they were a happy and prosperous people, and were ruled by a king who had a kind and generous disposition, and who always held the welfare of his subjects of first importance, for which he was greatly beloved by them. Their seat of government was Tezcuco, a populous city at that time, situated on the eastern border of Lake Tezcuco, nearly northeast, across the lake, from Tenochtitlan—the Mexican capital.

The city of Tezcuco, if not at that time the most royal capital on the lake, was perhaps the oldest and largest; and noted especially for its intelligence and order. Besides its teachers and scholars it had its artisans; the latter hardly less skilled than were those of the proud city of Azcapozalco, a rival and the capital of its greatest enemy and despoiler. Its buildings were substantial; its palace commodious; its temples commensurate with the demands of their votaries, while its tianguez (market place) was broad and ample.

About the year 1418 the king of the Tepanecs found cause for declaring war on the Tezcucans, and a bitterly contested struggle ensued, which terminated in the overthrow of the government and subjugation of the people of the latter, and the massacre of their good king, together with many of his nobles.

Among those who escaped the death-dealing hand of the victors was the king's son, the young prince Hualcoyotl, heir to the Tezcucan crown. He was present at the bloody and disastrous ending of the strife; but, being concealed among the branches of a sheltering tree, from which position he witnessed the cruel murder of his father, he was not discovered by the foe. He was captured later, however, and thrown into a dungeon in his own city, where, though closely guarded, he remained only a short time, his friends effecting his escape by the substitution of another person, who willingly gave his life in his young master's stead. He fled to the city of Tenochtitlan, where he found refuge with friends. After a time he was permitted, through the influence of the Mexican king, who was friendly toward his people, to return to Tezcuco and his ancestral palace, on condition that he would live a retired and secluded life. He was there taken charge of and instructed by an old tutor named Itzalmo, who had been his preceptor previous to the overthrow of his country and death of his father.

Hualcoyotl was about sixteen years old when he went into retirement. He was unusually bright, and gave promise, in his deportment and youthful precociousness, of reaching a splendid manhood. Eight years passed by, during which period he remained in undisturbed seclusion, acquiring knowledge and wisdom under the skillful training of the good Itzalmo, and finding, in his hours of leisure, divertisement in the society of a few chosen companions. He had not disappointed the expectations of his friends, but, at the age of twenty-four, had ripened into a man of surpassing physical and intellectual force—a worthy representative of a noble line of princes. His adherents recognized in him their future king—their hope of deliverance from Tepanec usurpation.

About this time, 1426, the even tenor of the prince's life was interrupted by the sudden and unexpected death of the destroyer of Tezcucan independence—the old king, Tezozomoc, at Azcapozalco, the Tepanec capital.

The government of this nation, and its subjugated provinces, would now devolve upon Prince Maxtla, the deceased king's son, who was looked upon as a very unscrupulous and dangerous man—more so, if possible, than was his father, whose rule had always been despotic and tyrannical, especially over his foreign vassals.

But to return to the prince's apartment.

The servant retired with his master's message, and Itzalmo came soon after. Advancing before Hualcoyotl, the old vassal dropped on one knee in salutation.

"Arise, Itzalmo," said the prince, kindly. "You have requested speech with me. Hualcoyotl is pleased to grant any favor you may ask which is his to bestow. Of what would you speak?"

"Hualcoyotl, the prince, is very kind. If it please him, his servant would speak of the king."

"What of the king, good friend?"

"The king is dead."

"The king dead, you say? How came the news?"

"By special courier but now."

Hualcoyotl's countenance took on a grave and thoughtful expression. After a short pause he remarked:

"Maxtla will be king."

"Yes, Maxtla is already king," replied Itzalmo; "crowned by his father's hand—an event greatly to be deplored, surely; and well might we ask, O Prince, what will be the issue?"

"An inauspicious succession, good friend, to say the least; and one full of painful uncertainty," spoke the master; and, after a brief silence, he suddenly said; "Itzalmo, thou hast excellent command of thy knowledge—thou art wise; I would know what is in thy mind. What discernest thou in the old king's death? How will it effect our people's condition?"

"Hualcoyotl is the son of a noble father, and, like he was wont to do, gives his first thoughts to his people. Be assured, O Prince, that no good, but evil only, will come to Tezcuco from Maxtla. He is an unscrupulous prince, and hath not the fear of the gods in his heart. The oppressor's hand has been very heavy—the weight of it will not grow lighter; the shackles which bind us are galling—they will not be loosed." The old man's voice grew sadly eloquent. Raising his eyes and looking off as if in contemplation of his enthralled and unhappy country, he exclaimed: "Tezcuco, O Tezcuco! Thou art indeed distressed; and the end is not!"

"Itzalmo, good friend, it is not a cheerful picture you hold up before me in this perplexing hour, and I fear greatly that you have not overdrawn. What would you advise? For eight years you have been like a father to Hualcoyotl—yes, for eight years your hand has pointed out the way, and it has been Hualcoyotl's pleasure to walk therein. Speak, Itzalmo, good friend; I repeat: what would you advise?"

"It is a troublesome question you would have me answer. Time has not been given me in which to consider. At best, we can only wait and watch. A few days may enlighten us much in regard to Maxtla's disposition and purpose; especially with reference to yourself. Our friends at the king's palace will be sleeplessly vigilant; his every movement will be closely watched, and, if of a menacing character, reported immediately."

"You speak truly, Itzalmo, when you say we can only wait and watch. Our hands are indeed helpless. But do not let us anticipate troubles—they come fast enough. Have done with that, then, and look at this," returned the prince, calling the old preceptor's attention to the manuscript on the table, which proved to be the work of his own hand, and of which he desired a critical inspection by Itzalmo.

After a close scrutiny of the manuscript the old tutor said, showing his gratification and approval:

"Hualcoyotl has done well. The pupil has become a master, and Itzalmo's labors, as his instructor, are about at an end. The builder has not builded in vain, and his heart rejoices that it is so."

"Hualcoyotl has been fortunate in the matter of an instructor, if in nothing else. Itzalmo has been a faithful teacher, and his reward shall be commensurate, the gods befriending us," replied the prince, in grateful tones.

"May the gods befriend you, good master, not for my sake, but for your own and that of your oppressed people!" prayerfully responded the old tutor.

"Your words are overkind, Itzalmo, good friend; and they will be remembered with gratitude," returned the prince, feelingly.

Having accomplished the object of his visit to the apartment of Hualcoyotl, Itzalmo saluted him and withdrew.

When left to himself the prince became thoughtful for a time, when he was suddenly reminded that his servant was without, waiting for orders. He struck, lightly, a small, bell-shaped instrument suspended near him, and Oza immediately appeared in the doorway.

"Oza," spoke the master, "ask the tzin[ [2] Euet to favor me with his presence."

Tzin Euet, or Euetzin, was the son of a once prominent Tezcucan noble, Euzelmozin, who was a close friend of the late king of Tezcuco, and a high official in his court; and who shared, with many others, the fate of his royal master on the sanguinary field, where the best blood of a nation was shed to satisfy the instinctive cruelty of a barbarian tyrant.

When the young prince Hualcoyotl went into retirement it was thought necessary that he should have a companion, about his own age, who would be to him an attendant and associate, whose duty it would be to relieve, by his presence, the monotony of his seclusion.

From the close official relation of the fathers and the intimacy of the families grew a warm and lasting friendship between the boys; and, as a result, Hualcoyotl's choice of a companion fell upon tzin Euet.

The young tzin was a student; and, under the direction of Itzalmo and the favor of the prince, had spent the years in perfecting his education.

A genuine affection had gradually come between the young men, and they were more like brothers than else.

They were physically unlike; Euetzin being of medium height, yet of no inferior mould, with a light cast of complexion; while the prince was tall, muscular and dark. In age there was about a year's difference, Hualcoyotl being the senior. They were fine specimens of their race.

Oza delivered his master's message to the tzin, who promptly responded. The young lord never forgot that his friend was also his prince, and always saluted him profoundly when they met, which he did on entering his apartment.

"Thanks, noble tzin, for your promptness in coming to my relief. I am wearied of my work, and would have exercise. Will you go with me to the court?" kindly spoke the prince.

"With gladness, O Prince. You ought to know by now that your slightest wish is a law unto your friends, especially to myself, in whom obedience to you is the fullness of pleasure, born of affection," answered Euetzin, his countenance beaming with an expression which emphasized his words.

"Euetzin, I believe you; for without affection a friendship so true as yours could not exist. But come; let us to the court."

The ancestral palace of the Tezcucan princes at this period was not to be compared with what it was later, yet was, presumably, an expansive structure, if not massive, built on three sides of a court, the court terminating at the rear of it in a beautifully arranged garden.

In the front, or main portion, of the palace were the audience hall and council chamber; also various other apartments, among them those intended for the private use of the king and his numerous household; many of which, after the subversion of the government and death of the king, fell into disuse by the dispersion of the occupants.

In one of the back wings which extended along the side of the court, were the culinary establishment, banqueting hall, and, communicating with the latter, saloons, or reception rooms. There were other apartments connected with this wing for the accommodation of servants, the ordinary vassals of the king, of whom there were a very great number in his time, but which were now reduced to the actual necessities of the prince and his companions.

In the other wing of the palace was an extensive conservatory, where were cultivated the choicest flowers and shrubs to be found in the valley, of which there was no lack. The Anahuacans took great delight in floral displays, and no home was complete without its flowers.

When the prince and his companion reached the court they found some of their attendants playing at ball. This was one of Hualcoyotl's favorite means of obtaining exercise and relief from the depressing effects of his enforced seclusion, and they immediately joined in the game.

After indulging in the sport to their satisfaction the prince requested Euetzin to withdraw with him to the rear of the court, where they found a pleasant retreat and protection from the sun's heat in an inviting arbor, which was especially arranged for their comfort and enjoyment in leisure hours. When they were at ease the prince said:

"Are you aware, tzin Euet, that the king is dead?"

"Yes, Prince. Itzalmo informed me soon after receiving the message."

"Itzalmo is of opinion that the coming of Maxtla to the throne will, if anything, add to the distress of our people. I have great regard for his sagacity, yet withal, being deeply concerned personally, I would have your opinion also, tzin Euet, and have brought you here to obtain it. You may be able to throw some light on the matter, and, by so doing, change the present aspect of it. Maxtla is king; and, as we have reason to believe, a king without scruples, and not to be relied on. Were Tezcuco in position to demand the restoration of her rights as a nation we would know how to proceed; but she is not, and we are left with only one alternative, that of submission. Thus unhappily environed, our only recourse is to seek to mollify the king. How to do this, friend Euet, is the present and very important question."

Hualcoyotl paused, and looked inquiringly at the tzin.

"Yourself, O Prince, will be the one most affected by the change of rulers, and through you the new king must be mollified, if such a thing be possible. I fear very much that any overtures in that direction will be met by a scornful rejection, especially with reference to your own case," was Euetzin's rather discouraging reply.

"On what grounds, tzin Euet, do you rest your fears?"

"On the character of the man who now becomes the wrongful ruler of our people. His exceedingly bad record as a young man—a record full of meanness, largely made up of diabolism and cruelty, evidence of which is not lacking, furnishes sufficient grounds for fear and apprehension. I will venture an assertion, O Prince, which may seem overstrong to you, yet I feel confident I do not err in my conclusions. It does not require a prophet to foretell a thing when the conditions portend it. You, O Hualcoyotl, the rightful prince of Tezcuco, and Maxtla, the king, can not both continue to live under the same government. Mark me well! Sooner or later you will be compelled to fly or suffer death."

It was with a pale, stern face the tzin uttered his concluding words. The prince looked at him in amazement, considering the enormity implied in the prediction; yet, when he spoke, it was with perfect calmness.

"You undoubtedly believe what you say, my dear tzin; yet I am slow to think myself so obnoxious to the king as your words imply."

"You are obnoxious to him, noble prince, to the extent of being feared. He is a jealous and suspicious man, in addition to his many other faults, and will brook no possible rival to his authority over Tezcuco. While Hualcoyotl, the beloved prince of an enslaved people, lives, and is, in a measure, at liberty, Maxtla will not rest in security. Believe, O noblest of friends, I beg you, that I would not unduly excite you in this matter; but being deeply impressed with the thought that your life is in jeopardy, I am impelled to raise my voice in warning."

After a moment's pause the prince said:

"Tzin Euet, I must know to a certainty if your apprehensions of peril to myself are correct. Have you any plan to offer? You seem to have given the matter thought. What would you do?" inquired Hualcoyotl, showing unusual concern.

"I would go to Azcapozalco, and into the king's presence at once, and offer him allegiance. If he contemplates harm to you he will show it. He will not dare to molest you openly without cause. Your return may be fraught with danger, yet it is worth the hazard to learn his mind," replied the tzin.

"The past has taught me, Euetzin, that your opinions are usually well grounded. The character established by Prince Maxtla in the past, as you say, is sufficient cause for apprehension. Your words have stirred me deeply, and I think I will act upon them; though, before doing so, I must have time for thought. Say nothing to anyone of what is in your mind respecting this matter, not even to Itzalmo; he would only oppose my going before the king," returned the prince; and continuing, he said: "I pray your judgment may be in error this once; though, looking at it as you do, I fear the worst."

The young men, feeling somewhat dejected, very soon left the arbor and returned, each to his own apartment.

CHAPTER II.

Lake Tezcuco, the principal one of several situated in the great valley of Mexico, four and three quarter centuries ago, when the present Mexican capital (then Tenochtitlan) stood a league or more within its borders, was quite an inland body of water, covering well on to four hundred square miles of surface. Since that time this lake has shrunken to a remarkable degree, leaving the great valley city, and the sites of others now reduced to insignificance, miles away from it.

At the time to which our narrative refers nearly all the chief cities of Anahuac were situated on its shores, among which was the Tepanec capital, Azcapozalco, located near the northwest corner of the lake. To this city we now have occasion to turn briefly.

Azcapozalco was designated as the royal city, which, if it signified anything, meant that in the time of its ascendency it was the most magnificent seat of government on the lake, if not on the Anahuac. It was a city of walls we are told, and must have boasted of elegant structures of stone and sun-dried brick, which suggests the idea of towering temples, a grand palace and court, and extensive avenues, where swarmed an aggressive and busy population. Its artificers, it is said, were superior in skill to those of any other city on the great plateau, which meant much, when we consider that among these were to be found jewelers who could unify metals so perfectly as to represent objects, harmoniously variegated, by alternately intermixing of silver and gold.

Of their weavers we may speak equally well.

The ancient Mexicans were the first people to use the cochineal for purposes of coloring, which, after the conquest, was introduced into Europe by the Spaniards. Their weavers were enabled with it to make the products of the loom not only brilliant but beautiful.

The fineness of their fabrics varied in texture as well as in dye, the most finished being made of cotton, one of their principal products, with which was interwoven the finest animal hair, forming a web fit to be worn by a king.

A royal city, we may well believe, was Azcapozalco, when Maxtla, the tyrant rival of Prince Hualcoyotl, became the arbiter of its destiny.

Maxtla was seated on his throne, in the audience hall of his palace, surrounded by his chiefs and advisers—nobles of his realm, holding conference with them regarding the duties of their respective positions, and arranging other matters pertaining to his new and exalted station.

The king was a man of medium stature, with a well-rounded physique, swarthy complexion, and very course features. His eyes were small and black, and lighted up with a gleam of cunning and ferocity, which gave to his countenance a decidedly disagreeable expression, and one that boded no good to those whom he might deem his enemies.

The costume he wore consisted of a loose-fitting tunic and leggings made to fit his limbs closely to below the calf; the whole wrought from the finest cotton fabrics and ornamented with trimmings of gold. Over his shoulders was carelessly worn a rich mantle of featherwork. His feet were incased in sandals made from the skin of some wild animal; while on his head rested a crown formed of precious metals, and ornamented with gems and a penache of richly colored feathers.

His chiefs were similarly dressed, excepting the crown, but in a less gaudy manner.

A pause had fallen on the assembly, which was interrupted by the entrance of a herald, who announced Prince Hualcoyotl as desiring audience with the king. The mention of the prince's name caused no little commotion among the king's attendants. A cloud of disapproval came over Maxtla's face, and the evil expression upon it was intensified. After a moment's hesitation he directed that the prince be admitted.

On entering the hall, Hualcoyotl advanced before the king and saluted him in the accustomed manner: kneeling on one knee, placing his right hand on the ground and then to his forehead. While in this position he laid at the scowling Maxtla's feet an offering of flowers, which was emblematic of his peaceful intentions. The king gave a momentary glance at the prostrate prince, and then, with malice and hatred depicted on his countenance, silently and haughtily turned his back upon him. This action on the part of Maxtla was highly significant: it was intended as a humiliation to the prince, and signified that his offering was rejected; also, that no favor might be expected by him from the throne.

Hualcoyotl rose to his feet deeply moved by the conduct of the king; and, after a moment's hesitation, quietly walked out of the hall. As he left the door he was accosted by one of the king's attendants, who begged him to withdraw from the palace and city, and return to his own as quickly as possible, for his life was in great danger. He was soon on the road to Tezcuco, where he arrived safely, but much perturbed in spirit and perplexed in mind.

He went immediately to his private apartment, and summoned Euetzin into his presence. In a very short time the tzin appeared, and, after saluting him, said:

"I am here in answer to your summons, noble prince, and would know your pleasure."

"Be at ease, good friend," returned Hualcoyotl, gravely, motioning the tzin to a seat. A brief silence followed, which was broken by the prince.

"Euetzin," he began, fixing his passion-lit eyes on his friend, "the wisdom and penetration of an older head than might be expected has been given to you, as my appearance before the king has proven."

"You have seen the king?" inquiringly interrupted the tzin.

"I have," answered the prince, reflectively, looking beyond. Another short pause intervened, and recovering himself he continued, adopting a manner of expression peculiar to his race.

"The lion is loosed, and the fire of anger is in his heart; the fox must be wary, or his cunning may not save him. Do you interpret in these words the nature of my reception by the king?"

"I do, and know that I read him truly."

"You did, most truly. In accordance with your opinion and advice I went before the king, and in the presence of his assembled chiefs tendered my fealty and peace offering to his majesty with the accustomed formalities. My offerings were rejected, and I, the Prince of Tezcuco, was spurned by him in the most humiliating manner, and compelled like a coward to slink from his presence under the infliction of the indignity, without the power to resent it. Euetzin, something must be done, and quickly; for Maxtla evidently contemplates harm to myself, his supposed rival, and will stop at nothing short of my destruction. It must be victory for Tezcuco or death for her prince, as it now appears."

Euetzin felt that a reply was expected and said:

"Hualcoyotl, the son of our lamented king, can rely upon his friends in any emergency. They are devoted to their country and prince, and only await an opportunity to avenge the wrongs which have been laid upon them."

"Your words, tzin Euet, are encouraging, for they strengthen an impression which I have hopefully entertained: that our people are still imbued with patriotism and love for their country, and may be led by incitement to do battle for its redemption. If our hope is not a vain one, which can only be ascertained by investigation, someone whose soul is in our cause must go abroad to inspire, arouse and prepare them for revolt. By my peculiar position I am unfortunately placed. I can not go to those with whom I would counsel, neither can they come to me; for my every movement will henceforth be under strict and secret surveillance. On you, therefore, my trusted friend, must fall the work which I would, but can not, do—the work of stimulating our people to action and organizing them into an army of resistance to the Tepanec despot, Maxtla. I need not inquire if you will do it; Euetzin is the son of Euzelmozin—that alone bespeaks his compliance."

"My life, O Prince, is at your disposal. You have but to command and I will obey."

"Spoken like the true Tezcucan that you are, noble Euet. That Hualcoyotl has not many more such loyal friends in his misfortune!"

"The hour of need may discover to Hualcoyotl an army of friends not less worthy of trust than Euet," replied the tzin modestly.

"Friends worthy and true, possibly—never but one Euet," returned the prince, with a look which voiced the affectionate esteem in which he held his companion.

The tzin was considerably affected by the prince's fervent manner and language, and appeared confused for want of a suitable reply, which the latter observed, and, quickly continuing, reverted to the main question under consideration.

"The mission on which you are about to go is a very dangerous one," said he. "Should you be discovered, death would undoubtedly be the consequence."

"I am aware of that, O Prince, yet I beg you will have no fears for my safety. I will choose my own companions, and, be assured, they will not be of the emissaries of Maxtla."

"I believe you; and now, since you are to go, let there be no delay. Seek our friends and counsel with them. Learn the true feelings of our people, and, if possible, the number of our adherents available for soldiers; also, if so desirable an end may be attained, secure the cooperation of other states which are friendly to us. Work with the wisdom and judgment of which I know you to be possessed, and according to the success of your labors shall be your reward. May our nation rise, under your hand, from the ashes of her former greatness, is our most earnest prayer. Go as soon as you can arrange to do so, and may the gods of our fathers be with you and keep you. You will see your excellent mother and sister; bear to them, I pray you, my profound respect, and say that I would come to them could I do so with safety."

Euetzin at leaving would have saluted the prince in the accustomed manner, but was stopped by him, and, instead, was received upon his breast in a strong embrace, which signified that he was, for the time at least, accepted as an equal in all respects.

Realizing the very grave circumstances under which they were parting, the friends separated with feelings of deepest sadness.

The prince's confidence in the loyalty and integrity of his friend was full and complete, as we have seen, and the sequel proved that it was wisely placed.

When the tzin had withdrawn from the prince's apartment the latter fell into deep meditation, as was his wont in the recent past. His thoughts at length appeared to turn on his aged preceptor, for he spoke audibly, as if addressing someone:

"Yes, the good Itzalmo must not be overlooked in this matter. He has been like a father to me, and should share fully in my confidence. His wisdom and sagacity may yet be of invaluable service to me, as they have been in the past."

He arose and straightway sought the old servitor in his private apartment, where he found him poring over his hieroglyphics. Salutations were exchanged, and the prince proceeded to relate the particulars of his visit to the palace of Maxtla; also to express his fears as to the consequences liable to ensue, and his determination to meet them by a speedy preparation for resistance.

Itzalmo was not pleased that the prince had gone before the king unknown to him, yet his solicitude was instantly aroused in his behalf, and a careful study of the situation followed.

The old preceptor was a man of marked shrewdness and cunning, and more than a match for Maxtla if open violence was not resorted to. Friends, known to no one but himself, were to be found in the king's palace who quickly notified him when anything of importance occurred in his majesty's household or court. In this manner he was kept informed and always forewarned.

Acquainted, as the old Tezcucan was, with the treacherous disposition of the Tepanecs, and Maxtla in particular, he felt that the strictest watchfulness would be necessary to avoid surprise. He had saved the prince from the wrath of the old king, and hoped he might be able to save him again, should the emergency arise. He therefore begged him to be discreet and trust to him.

"You are young, O Prince, and with little experience to guide you," he said. "I pray you, be not incautious, but let your actions be governed by wisdom and understanding. Do not forget, O Hualcoyotl, that the destiny of a people rests with you. Listen to him who has counseled and shown you the way in the past. Itzalmo is your proven friend; he will do for you what no other can."

The old man's earnestness was remarkable, and the prince felt it. He said:

"Itzalmo, I know that I may trust you wholly; for have you not, indeed, proven it in many ways? Be assured, then, my ever faithful friend, that your counsel shall not be ignored. I will be guarded in what I do. You have my promise."

As he concluded, the prince passed from the apartment of the loyal old vassal, the latter sending after him a prayerful benediction.

CHAPTER III.

"Zelmonco is very lonesome, mother. How rarely does anything come to disturb the sameness of our lives. No change from day to day: only the voice of Nature, in the songs of birds and the murmur of the leaves, is heard; and, much as I love these sounds, they make me sad."

These words were addressed by a young girl to an elderly appearing woman a short distance off, who was at the moment giving attention to a beautiful cluster of blooming rosebushes.

"Yes, the villa does seem lonesome; still we have each other, my child, which is much to be thankful for," was answered.

"True, mother; but that does not relieve the quietude of our home. I wish that Euet would come. He remains from us longer this time than usual. Do you think we may expect him soon?"

"Euet does, indeed, stay from home longer than usual, but is no doubt detained. Still, I hope he will be here before the day is gone," replied the elderly woman.

The persons engaged thus in conversation were in the open air, strolling leisurely about, rearranging a disturbed bush or vine, plucking a flower here and a twig there, and drinking in the sweet perfumes rising from the odoriferous flowers and shrubs which met them at every turn. They were the mother and sister of Euetzin, the friend and companion of Prince Hualcoyotl, who were out for an hour's stroll in the beautiful grounds fronting their villa home—a place very dear to them for the sacred memories which clung around it; memories of other and happier days, when home associations and ties were unbroken and complete.

Euzelmozin, the husband and father, as we have stated previously, perished with his king on the battle field, where Tezcucan liberty went down under the bloody hand of a cruel victor. He left them a beautiful home, however, with gold and other wealth sufficient to make them independent.

By paying promptly the required tribute to the Tepanec king they were permitted to live undisturbed in their isolation.

The mother, whose name was Teochma, had passed middle life. She still possessed a vigorous womanhood, and showed her age in the hair only, which was freely sprinkled over with gray.

Itlza, the daughter, was fair and of medium size. About nineteen years had marked her young life, but, being a child of a sunny clime, she appeared older. She was not beautiful, yet upon her face there was a sweet, confiding look, which attracted and charmed the beholder, impressing his or her mind with a pleasing sense of acquaintanceship. The light of geniality beamed upon her countenance, and a spirit of mirthfulness sparkled up from the depths of two bright, laughing eyes. A pair of carmine-tinted lips, as delicately colored as the lovely rose she was carelessly twirling between her thumb and finger, backed by two perfect rows of pearly teeth, adorned a pretty, tempting mouth, which completed the charm and brightness of an otherwise plain face.

They were dressed becomingly in the manner of their people. The character of their dress was not greatly dissimilar to that worn by the women of other Indian nations, except in its completeness. Among the higher classes of native Mexican women the costume was usually gorgeous in gay colors, and adorned with trimmings of gold and featherwork.

The mother and sister of tzin Euet were the wife and daughter of a fallen Tezcucan noble; and, though robbed of the title of nobility, still endeavored to sustain, in their manner of living, the dignity of their former rank.

Zelmonco villa, the home of the family, was situated on an eminence, about two leagues from Tezcuco, and commanded a fine view of the adjacent country and the city in the distance. Euetzin was in the habit of visiting it often, to enjoy, for a brief season, the society of his loved and honored mother and very dear sister.

It becomes necessary at this point for us to return to the time of parting between the tzin and prince, which occurred some hours earlier than the incident which opens this chapter.

On withdrawing from Hualcoyotl's apartment, Euetzin made a hasty preparation to leave the city. His first object was to pay a hurried visit to his mother and sister, and then go forward in the performance of his mission. When the necessary preparations for his departure were completed, he left the palace, going out through the court onto a thoroughfare, which he followed for some distance. On reaching the outskirts of the city he took a southeasterly course and walked briskly in the direction of his home. He had about six miles to go, but thought nothing of it. The Aztec mode of traveling was almost entirely pedestrial; in fact, none but the wealthy and the nobility traveled in any other way. The palanquin, a kind of chair, borne by slaves or hired servants, was their only conveyance—burden-bearing animals being unknown on the Anahuac previous to the advent of the conquerors. The men were, as a consequence, trained pedestrians from necessity and habit.

As Euetzin neared the villa, the anxiety to see his loved ones grew upon him, and his movement became proportionately quicker. He had to pass up through the park to reach the house; and, anticipating he would find his mother and sister strolling there, carefully guarded his approach from observation, hoping to give them a sudden and pleasant surprise.

The words addressed to his mother by Itlza, and the replies were distinctly heard by the tzin as he drew near.

Itlza continued to address her mother:

"Do you think, mother, that the old king's death will effect the prince in his retirement?" she asked.

"Maxtla will be king; evil is in Maxtla's heart—the prince must beware," replied the mother.

"Why does Hualcoyotl remain so passively a prisoner in his own palace? Is he a slave that he endures his restraint without an effort to obtain his freedom?" questioned Itlza, with much warmth.

"I know of but one way by which he might gain his freedom, my child; and that is too terrible to think about."

"You allude to a revolt, mother?"

"Yes, it was that I had in mind; and yet, though it would bring sorrow to many hearts, and possibly to ours, I could not say my people nay should they attempt it, for they are but slaves to the Tepanec king," replied the mother, in accents of sadness.

"You speak truly, mother; for Euet would—" Itlza's half-formed sentence was here suddenly broken off. She was seized from behind and held firmly for a moment, while a hand was placed over her mouth. When she was released, she turned quickly to learn who her assailant was, and met the laughing face of her brother, who saluted her in a most loving manner and completed her unfinished sentence by saying:

"Euet would that you drop so unpleasant a subject—there is only sadness in it."

"A bad brother is Euet, to give his sister such a fright!" exclaimed she, pleasantly.

The tzin answered her badinage with a closer embrace; and, releasing her, saluted his mother in an affectionate manner, who said:

"Euet, my son, you are most welcome after so protracted an absence. Your sister and myself were beginning to wonder at your remaining away so long, and would in a little while have become uneasy about you."

"My mother and sister are very good to remember me so kindly, but they should not forget that Euet is no longer a boy. A man's responsibilities are now his, and he has duties to perform which sometimes interfere very much with his plans for gratifying the cravings of his heart. I am not forgetful of the filial obligations which bind me with golden chords of love to my estimable mother and sweet sister; yet there are times, in the press of worldlier things, when even these most precious of all obligations are neglected."

"You are right, my son; a mother's love is selfish. I had not considered well—but you are tired and need refreshment. Let us go in."

As they moved toward the house the conversation was continued. The mother presently inquired:

"How fares the good prince?"

"The prince is well, though somewhat dejected at the turn affairs have taken since the old king's death, of which you have already heard," answered the tzin.

"Yes, the news of his death has spread quickly. Your allusion to it prompts me to inquire about his successor. Maxtla has ascended the throne, I suppose, and now rules in his father's stead?" inquiringly returned the mother.

"Maxtla is king," replied Euet; "and even now may be laying plans for the destruction of the prince."

The faces of the mother and daughter quickly took on an expression of anxiety.

Hualcoyotl had spent many of his boyhood hours at the home of his friend Euet, which had resulted in his holding a warm place in the heart of each member of the family. Itlza and her mother had not seen him for a number of years, yet in Euetzin was found a link which bound them still to their young friend of other and more auspicious times.

"What are we to understand by those ominous words, my son?" inquired the mother in anxious tones.

"Good mother, I will explain, but not now. My walk has made me ravenous, and I do not intend that even your anxiety for the prince shall deprive me of my supper," replied he, playfully.

"How thoughtless of me to forget for a moment that you are hungry," returned she, with maternal concern. "Itlza, see that refreshments are served immediately; and now, my son, you must pardon your mother for her negligence."

"Thank my mother for her goodness, rather, in being thoughtful of my friend," replied the tzin, imprinting a filial kiss upon her brow.

This act and the accompanying words were in a vein of affectionate mirthfulness which brought the mother's heart into her eyes, and she could only look her gratitude. The tzin led her to the board where refreshments were served, and mother and daughter were soon partaking of a spirit of cheerfulness which his presence imparted….

The day was nearly spent; approaching night was beginning to cast her shadows over the earth, and her dusky mantle would soon envelope all. The family were seated in the spacious drawing-room of their home. Euetzin was relating the particulars of the prince's experience at the palace of the king, and his mother and sister were listening with the most intense interest to his recital. When he told of the prince's determination to prepare for resistance, and that he, the tzin, was then on his way to engage in inciting it, the mother could keep silent no longer, but cried out in anguish of heart:

"Oh, my son, can it be that my fears are to be realized so soon, and must we indeed lose you?"

"Be calm, good mother; do not make my duties heavier by inflicting greater sadness upon my heart. You would not counsel your boy to shrink from the call which must come, sooner or later, to every true son of Tezcuco? The prince has seen fit to send me as his representative among the people, and has charged me with a great and responsible duty. Shall the son of Euzelmozin cowardly shirk it, or shall he, like his lamented father, be fearless in the face of danger? What greater danger, O Teochma, my mother, could arise than that which now threatens the destruction of our prince, and a lower degradation for our deeply wronged country?"

"Forgive me, my son, if I showed in my words a feeling of resentment to the fates that would rob me of my boy. You know your mother too well to believe that she would for a moment counsel you contrary to the dictates of patriotism. No, Euet; though my heart may bleed for the sorrow it will feel, yet would I say, go to your duty, perform it to the best of your ability, and prove yourself a worthy son of Zelmozin and Tezcuco."

"Thanks, my noble mother; with your approval, so patriotically expressed, I will go out into the midst of dangers, fearing only to do wrong."

When the morning came the tzin was gone, and the unwonted stillness of the villa told of saddened hearts within.

CHAPTER IV.

When suspicious jealousy culminates in anger it is but a step to malicious madness. In such a conflict of the passions reason is unable to hold its sway; especially is this true if the natural impulses of the heart are evil. The fatal step is taken and destruction inevitably follows upon the victim, and too often upon those who are innocently the cause.

Maddened at the sight of his supposed rival, and no longer the unimpassioned arbiter of a king's court, Maxtla, immediately on the withdrawal of Prince Hualcoyotl, dismissed from his presence the chiefs and vassals about him, and retired to his own apartment, where, by giving way to the dominant passions of his nature, he wrought himself into a very demon. In his terrible anger he resolved that Hualcoyotl should die, and ordered a meeting of his privy council, whose duty it was to pass upon the decisions of the king, to take place at once.

The council convened in a chamber set apart for that purpose. When the members were all seated the king addressed them. He appeared unusually stern and determined, and evidenced the deep, terrible, and inflexible purpose which moved him. He said:

"Your king has commanded your presence here at this hour to obtain your approval to a decree of death, which he has laid upon one who is a menace to our authority. Hualcoyotl, the prince of Tezcuco, is the only surviving heir to the Tezcucan crown. While he is permitted to live the Tepanec supremacy over that nation will be as unstable as would a habitation on yonder burning mountain.[ [3] The voice of the murmuring wind is not more distinct than is the murmur of repining and disaffection which rises from among our subjugated vassals, the Tezcucans, who would have this prince to rule over them. Shall we fold our arms and wait for the storm of insurrection and rebellion, which his existence makes possible, to sweep down upon and overwhelm us, or shall we be wise in precluding the possibility of such an event by his removal? The desolation of our kingdom would no doubt be attempted, and possibly accomplished, should he be raised to power; and I warn you, if accomplished, more than Maxtla would find a grave beneath the ruins. We must strike, worthy chiefs, nobles, for self-preservation. Your king has decreed it—Hualcoyotl must die; are you prepared to approve the decision?"

The members of the council felt that the king was in no humor to brook opposition, and as it was a personal as well as public consideration with them the decree was confirmed.

It was decided, in accordance with the wishes of the king, to have the prince put out of the way in a quiet manner. Agreeable to this decision, arrangements were made for a private party to be given by one of the king's officers in Tezcuco, to which the prince was to have a cordial and pressing invitation, and at which he was to be secretly put to death.

Itzalmo was informed of the diabolical plotting of the conspirators by a friend who was close to the king, and shrewdly defeated their design to assassinate his young master; but tradition says another perished in his stead.

The failure of the plan to entrap the prince so enraged the king that he threw off all disguise and publicly proclaimed the decree condemning him to death. The execution of the mandate was imposed upon one of his chief officers, who was ordered to go with a party of soldiers to Tezcuco, and there to enter the palace, seize the prince and put him to death.

On the second day subsequent to the one on which the attempt was made to create an opportunity in which to assassinate the prince—the consummation of which was prevented by the old preceptor's cunning, Hualcoyotl was seated alone in his private apartment. There was a notable change in his appearance. The past few days, with their important and, to him, momentous events, had made him seem older. The youthfulness and freshness of his former self were gone, and the sternness of a determined man had settled upon him.

The tzin had been gone several days, and the importance of his mission under the light of recent developments was greatly heightened. The prince felt that his friend's prediction relative to the king's probable conduct toward himself was likely to be verified; yet he hoped for time, that organized resistance might be effected before extreme measures were resorted to by his enemy. Still he was not sanguine: the uncertainty of the situation because of the meagerness of knowledge possessed regarding the temper and disposition of his people was a source of discouragement. A consciousness of his present helpless state, also, had its depressing effect. Hope, however, supported by a strong faith in the patriotism of his immediate friends sustained him. He could not work, and had fallen into one of his thoughtful moods. His countenance was ever expressive of his emotions, the character of his thoughts being clearly reflected upon it. Now a dark cloud would cover his face, its shadows deepened and intensified by the flashes of angry light which gleamed from his dark eyes, plainly showing the feelings which agitated his troubled and fearless soul. Again, the subduing influence of more gentle thoughts would follow, and the hard lines upon his countenance would pass away, giving place to a softened expression which clearly said the nobler man within had risen, and that thoughts according with his better nature held his mind.

Love of country, pity for his oppressed people, sorrow for those whose loss he mourned, and affection for his immediate friends and companions were ruling passions in him, and could not be repressed for any great length of time. So he sat and pondered, trains of thought the while, ladened with bitter and sweet, coursing their way across his active brain, till suddenly he exclaimed: "Beware! O Maxtla, perfidious monster; the hunted ocelotl[ [4] may turn and rend you." With these words, which broke the spell, Hualcoyotl awoke from his reverie, little dreaming that at that very moment death was on his track and closely stealing to take him unaware.

The news of the issuing of the king's decree condemning the prince to death had just reached Itzalmo; and, almost at the same moment in which Hualcoyotl uttered the exclamation which broke in on his reverie, a servant approached his door to say that the watchful old servitor wished to communicate with him.

"Inform Itzalmo that I will see him in his own apartment," said the prince, in answer to the message.

Hualcoyotl was greatly surprised on entering the old man's room to find him very much agitated, and at once surmised that something of a very serious nature was the matter; for Itzalmo was ever dignified and composed in his demeanor, seldom permitting anything to visibly disturb him. After the accustomed civilities he addressed the prince:

"I have just received startling intelligence from our friends at the palace of Maxtla to the effect, most noble prince, that your life is in imminent peril. The failure of the king's plan to entrap you two days since has so enraged his majesty that he has thrown off all restraint, and publicly proclaims your existence a menace to his authority, and that it must be terminated. He has ordered an officer with a number of soldiers to come here and murder you—yes, murder you in your own palace. Your only safety lies in flight. Go at once, O Prince; for they may come at any moment."

Hualcoyotl's habitual serenity was somewhat shaken by the knowledge of his public condemnation to death; but it was only for a moment, for he quickly recovered, and when Itzalmo finished speaking, said:

"You are a true friend to me, Itzalmo, but in your anxiety for the safety of your prince forget your teachings. What you propose might be the best thing to do; such a course, however, would not be in accordance with my training; neither would it meet the approval of my feelings. No, good friend, I'll turn my back upon no man. Let them come—I will remain to receive them."

"You, O Hualcoyotl, prince of Tezcuco, forget your duty to your people, and remember only your pride of honor," remonstrated Itzalmo.

"My dear, good friend, I forget nothing, except that I am Maxtla's slave," returned the prince, with flashing eyes. "If the gods forsake us not," continued he, "Hualcoyotl, prince of Tezcuco, will yet meet this monster king on equal terms, and when he does, the skill at arms which thou hast taught shall serve him well; or, failing, leave him a lifeless thing at Maxtla's feet! A truce to further discussion of the matter except as to where and how these assassins are to be received."

Itzalmo was greatly discouraged by the prince's refusal to fly the palace, but not less determined to do all in his power to save him. It was agreed that he should repair to the court and engage in a game of ball, trusting to his good luck and the cunning of the old tutor to deliver him from the dangers which encompassed him.

When the soldiers arrived they were received in the palace and informed that Hualcoyotl was playing at ball in the court. This had the desired effect of leading the officer to infer that he had found the prince and his household ignorant of the contemplated assassination of the former; thus rendering it less difficult for Itzalmo to further and accomplish any meditated plan looking to the frustration of the murderous design upon his young master's life.

When the soldiers reached the court they were received in a very courteous manner by the prince, who said:

"The soldiers of Maxtla, the king, do me great honor in visiting my palace at this time, and will add to my pleasure if they will enter with me and partake of refreshments to relieve the fatigue of their journey."

The prince's demeanor was dignified and fearless, and his speech the essence of suavity, which threw the officer off his guard, who, feeling secure in the ultimate accomplishment of his purpose, replied:

"Hualcoyotl, the prince, honors the king's service in extending to his soldiers the hospitality of his board, and as the soldiers of the king are not unlike other men, but, like other men, require sustenance, they accept the kind invitation."

The prince led the way to the banqueting hall, where the party was seated and refreshments ordered to be served. The refreshments were brought from an adjoining saloon, between which and the banqueting hall was a broad, arched doorway, with hangings, or portieres, richly adorned with gold and other trimmings, now drawn to each side and held by ornamental holders.

It was the custom of the natives of Anahuac, when an honored guest was being entertained, to place a burning censer in a conspicuous place and feed it with aromatics during the time of entertainment. The censer, on this occasion, was placed in the doorway between the banqueting hall and saloon.

While the party were engaged in eating and drinking, the prince suddenly had occasion to call a servant. No servant responded to the call, however, which seemed to arouse his ire. With an impatient gesture he arose from his place at the board and passed to the saloon as if in search of one. As he left the hall a fresh supply of aromatics was thrown into the censer, sending up dense clouds of incense, which enveloped him and filled the doorway, thus obscuring his movements from the eyes of the soldiers. At this moment a servant entered from another direction, as if in answer to the prince's summons.

"Did my master call?" he inquired.

"He did," replied the officer, "and is now in search of you."

The servant busied himself about the table for a short time, and then took a position at a respectful distance, apparently waiting his master's return.

The minutes went by and the prince did not return. It suddenly dawned upon the mind of the officer that something was being done to thwart him—that he had been duped; and, quickly rising from his seat, he rushed into the saloon, followed by his men. No trace of the prince was found, and a general search of the palace was ordered. It proved fruitless, however, for the prince was not discovered, nor could anything be learned from the servants concerning him. He had vanished, to all appearances, in the clouds of incense which enveloped him as he passed from the banqueting hall to the saloon.

CHAPTER V.

Among the many ruins of ancient Mexico, and not the least of interest and wonder, were those of the great aqueducts, by means of which vast quantities of water were brought from distant points to supply an extensive system of irrigation, and, presumably, the palaces and villas of the rulers and their wealthy adherents.

The Tezcucan palace, while Hualcoyotl's father was yet a prosperous and independent sovereign, was furnished with all the advantages attainable, among which was an abundant supply of water, brought into the palace through a large conduit, or earthen pipe. After the subjugation of the Tezcucans, and death of their king, this pipe fell into disuse and ruin.

There was a passageway leading from within the palace to the abandoned conduit, which was concealed by a secret door. In this outlet Itzalmo saw a sure avenue of deliverance for his young master, and devised a plan of escape for him through its offered adaptedness, which was successfully carried out, as recorded at the close of the last chapter.

The plan of escape, so ingeniously devised by the old preceptor, was communicated to the prince, who, after being again urged to save himself for the sake of his people, concluded to acquiesce; for he began to realize that death certainly awaited him should he remain, while in the plan of Itzalmo there was hope, a strong argument against his false notion of defiance in the face of such overwhelming odds.

When Hualcoyotl left the banqueting hall and entered the saloon he was hurried to and through the secret door into the passageway and on to the conduit, where he found present security. It was not his purpose to reenter the palace, but to follow the pipe to a point where an opening had, in the gradual decay of the structure, appeared in its side, and from there make his escape. To do this was not an easy task, for he had a considerable distance to go, and the pipe being too small to permit him to rise, he was compelled to proceed in a crawling manner, and, frequently, to work his way through accumulated obstructions. After much vexatious toiling he found himself nearing the opening in the conduit, through which he expected to make his exit. A flood of light, most welcome, was streaming in through the breach, the sight of which freshened his flagging energies and relieved the arduousness of his advance. The goal was finally reached, and just beyond was freedom—to him, however, a freedom to be gained only under cover of darkness.

It had been arranged that the prince should remain in the conduit until night, when, at a preconcerted signal, to be given by his faithful and trusted attendant, Oza, to assure him that the way was clear, he should come forth and be conducted to a place of safety.

The time passed tediously to the anxious fugitive in his close quarters, and he was beginning to feel the effect of it on his endurance, when his attention was attracted by a sound not unfamiliar. A short period of silence ensued, and then followed the signal to quit the conduit. He was quickly at Oza's side, of whom he inquired:

"Whither do we go?"

"To the cottage of Kan, the weaver. Let my master follow his servant," cautiously replied Oza, moving noiselessly away.

While Hualcoyotl was waiting in the conduit for night to come to his relief, a former vassal and ardent adherent of his father's, a weaver of nequen (maguey cloth) by the name of Kan, who lived on the outskirts of the city, was seen and consulted with reference to his safety. The weaver immediately interested himself in the son of his old master, and proposed that he be brought to his cottage, where he could remain until a better and safer refuge was found for him. The proposal was gladly acceded to, and the fugitive, at leaving the conduit, was conducted to his house, where he was made comfortable and secure for the time being.

The officer who had charge of the expedition to the Tezcucan palace, with a view to taking Hualcoyotl's life, was greatly chagrined at the effectual manner in which he was tricked. After exhausting his ingenuity in futile efforts to find a clue to the prince's mysterious disappearance, he placed a guard over the palace and returned in haste to his master, the king, to whom he reported the failure of his mission, but in such manner as to save his own head, which would no doubt have been required of him for his incautiousness, had the king been correctly informed.

Maxtla became greatly enraged when he learned of the failure of the expedition and escape of his hated rival. Troops of armed men were ordered to scour the country in every direction in search of him, and, in addition, a large reward was offered for his capture, dead or alive. The hand of a noble lady, and a rich domain to accompany it, was promised to whoever should take him, regardless of the captor's previous condition in life.

The perils to which the prince was being subjected by his powerful enemy, and the persistent efforts made to destroy him, were becoming generally known. Among his friends—the Tezcucans, who were deeply incensed at the unjust treatment of their favorite—a latent hatred of everything Tepanec was being wrought into a feeling of antagonism, which was rapidly engendering a spirit of resistance to the relentless and malicious persecutor.

"Whom the gods would destroy they first make mad," was assuredly exemplified in the brief and despotic career of the tyrant Maxtla; for by his unkingly conduct toward the unoffending Hualcoyotl he was digging a pit, so to speak, broad and deep, which would engulf not only himself, but his nation as well, of whose proud capital, the royal city of Azcapozalco, no vestige would remain to mark the spot whereon it stood; nor track, nor trace of all the mighty host of those o'er whom by right he ruled, but only waste and desolated space, on which, to emphasize a conqueror's hate, it was decreed the slave-man's mart should be.[ [5]

Some days subsequent to the coming of Hualcoyotl to the weaver's cottage a band of soldiers appeared in its vicinity. Every house was being searched, and it was soon learned that he was the object of the search. Measures were immediately taken to prevent his discovery.

When two of the soldiers presently entered Kan's place they found him busily engaged at his work, preparing the fibers of maguey for the loom, a quantity of which was lying in piles about him. One of the men, addressing him, said:

"The soldiers of the king are searching for Hualcoyotl, the fugitive prince, who is thought to be hiding somewhere in this part of the city. We are here to look through your cottage, weaver."

"The soldiers of the king know their duty, and must perform it, though it will avail them nothing to search my place. Kan, the weaver, has other business to occupy his time than that of hiding royal aristocrats, who would take no more account of his life than they would of an ocelotl's," was the curt and not inapt reply.

"There is truth in what you say, weaver," returned the soldier. "Small value is put upon a man's life by them, especially if he is in their way."

Without further delay he proceeded, with his companion, to search the few apartments of the cottage, giving them a thorough examination.

Kan never worked more diligently than he did while the soldiers were looking through his place. The fibers of the maguey fairly flew through his hands, and higher and wider grew the pile of thready stuff at his left. Although his movements were rapid, he showed no evidence of disquiet. His countenance wore its customary stern look, and yet, beneath, there was poignant solicitude for his royal charge. It appears to have been a characteristic of his people to forget self in their devotion to others. He took no account of his own personal risk: the penalty he incurred in harboring the fugitive—a penalty the measure of which would depend on the caprice of a suspicious and tyrannizing king.

After a protracted search into all the nooks and secret places about the weaver's premises, the men returned to the room in which he was working. This room was quite plain, without recess or other receptacle where a man might have found concealment. The spokesman looked critically over it, and said:

"The fugitive is surely not hiding with you, friend; for we find nothing of a suspicious character about your house. Sorry we were obliged to trouble you, but orders must be obeyed."

"Right, soldier!" returned Kan. "You have performed your duty, and no harm has been done."

The weaver spoke with affected carelessness, which he did not feel, for every moment which the soldiers spent in the room was one of anxiety to him.

Casting his eyes over the apartment once more, the soldier said:

"Since everything with you appears straight and satisfactory, we'll relieve you of our presence. Good luck to you, weaver."

"The same to the soldiers of the king," replied Kan, with a supreme effort at indifference, as the searchers turned to leave his place.

The party was hardly beyond the curtained doorway when the weaver's assumed carelessness gave place to cautiousness.

"Hist! do not stir!" he ejaculated guardedly. Rising, he went to a small window, a safe point from which to watch the soldiers' movements. When he was satisfied they would not return, and that all present danger was past, he went to the pile of selected fibers, which had grown so rapidly under his supreme efforts while the soldiers were searching his place, and, lifting them, said:

"You may rise now from your uncomfortable position. The soldiers seem to be satisfied with their search of my premises, and are gone."

The prince rose from the floor, on which he had been lying beneath the pile of fibers, and, glancing at his greatly disordered apparel, said, in a soliloquizing manner:

"Hualcoyotl is indeed fallen. I never expected to reach a state so far beneath my manhood as this; but, since it is for country and freedom, submission must be the rule, however humiliating the conditions." Fixing his eyes on the weaver, he continued: "Your reply to the soldier, Kan, in which you referred to royal aristocrats and the indifference usually shown by them for the lives of their subjects, has taught me a valuable lesson—one that I will not soon forget. It is too true that rulers are often disposed to hold the lives of their subjects lightly. Should it be my good fortune to regain my heritage, Kan and his words, so aptly spoken, shall not be forgotten."

"I pray, O Prince, that you will believe me. The words were not spoken out of disrespect, but to mislead the soldier that his search might not be too close." Spoken humbly and out of fear that he had given offense. "Kan is only one of many," he continued, "who would delight in serving and honoring Hualcoyotl as their king."

"It does not matter, Kan, what prompted the use of the words," replied the prince, kindly; "they were well said and timely, and you need have no regrets for having uttered them. At this moment I may be indebted to them for my liberty, if not my life. But let them pass; I would not they were unsaid. My escape from detection was narrow, indeed," he went on; "and due, my faithful friend, to your sagacity alone. I can no longer consent to your life and home being put in jeopardy on my account. There is no place in Tezcuco that will furnish me a safe retreat—my flight must be resumed. I will go into the mountains, in the direction of Tlascala, where refuge may be found in their fastnesses until my people are ready to avenge themselves on the authors of their degradation. If you will find a way, Kan, to inform Oza that I would see him, you will confer a favor which may be the last you will have an opportunity to bestow upon your unfortunate guest." The prince's closing words expressed deep dejection, and Kan hastened to answer by way of encouragement: