We will turn once more to Zelmonco villa, on which sorrow has again
fallen through the afflicting hand of war.
It is a beautiful evening, an hour after the night-shades have swept
away the last gleam of day. The moon's golden-hued disc is beaming
refulgently down upon the glowing face of Anahuac. The unruffled
foliage of shrub and tree is overcast with a silvern tinge, the
reflection of Luna's mellow light on Nature's inimitable green, while,
like groups of twinkling stars from afar, are seen in the distance the
sacred fires which light up every temple's summit, and which are never
permitted to go out. At such an hour, in which inanimate Nature,
superbly robed and serenely smiling, wholly unresponsive to the sorrow
which saddens her animate sister, as represented in the grief-stricken
inmates of the villa home, we are privileged, as visitors, to stroll in
the direction of the old oak tree, under which, in the past, the now
mourning Itlza has found her chief pleasure in idle moments. As we
approach the spot the first object to attract our attention is the
flowerlike appearance of the beautiful fountain. We pause for a moment
to view with delight the graceful turn and fall of its translucent
waters, which resemble in the moon's soft rays a great white lily. In
the excitement of our admiration we are led to repeat, mentally:
"Into the moonlight, whiter than snow, Beautiful, flower-like,
ceaseless thy flow. Glorious fountain----!"
What sound is that which breaks in upon our reflection, scarcely louder
than a murmur, rising in gentle undulations above the ripple of the
fountain's flow as it falls into the effervescing pool below?
"My heart is sad--very, very sad, and were it not for your safe return,
O Cacami, desolation would, indeed, overwhelm me."
It was Itlza's voice, low and sorrowful, addressing her lover, who had
improved the first favorable moment, after the army became settled in
Tezcuco, to visit the villa, where he found Teochma prostrated with
grief, and Itlza very sad, though supported by the expectation of an
early visit from him.
"Despair not, O Laughing-eyes; Euetzin may yet find favor with the
gods. He is not dead, or his body would have been found upon the battle
field."
"It were better, Cacami, if he were dead; for, oh, what a fate awaits
him, if he is a prisoner!" she replied, sorrowfully.
"Let us not think of that, but rather hope against such a fate, and for
a little while rejoice that we are once more brought together."
"I do rejoice, Cacami, in your preservation, and that I have you with
me again; but how can I forget, for one moment, my poor, unfortunate
brother?"
"Do not forget him, Laughing-eyes, but be cheered by the hope that he
is not lost."
"I will try, and you will help me by recounting of yourself. How do you
rank in this hour of our people's triumph?" she questioned, with a
supreme effort at rallying from her dejection.
"I have no particular rank as yet, Laughing-eyes, more than that of one
of the prince's chief attendants. I stood with him through both
battles, and we have come to be very good friends."
"I see that you have been decorated, but do not know the significance
of the badges you wear. Tell me about them, Cacami."
"This decoration," he said, directing her attention to a beautifully
constructed and highly ornamental badge, "was awarded me by Hualcoyotl
for doing my duty--he called it valorous conduct in battle. I prize it
above all else, for it tells me I am no longer unworthy of your love."
Looking up at her fondly.
"Who but yourself ever thought you unworthy?" she quickly answered.
"It was enough that I should think so, Laughing-eyes, without
consulting the thoughts of others."
"Well, I'm glad you have changed your mind, at any rate," she rejoined,
in quite a happy vein. "But this other one, Cacami, what deed of
bravery brought you that?" she continued, lifting from his breast a
superbly finished medal.
"No deed of bravery brought me that, Itlza. It was won by skill; and is
the price of a man's life."
"O, why did you tell me that?" interrupted she, dropping the blood
bought bauble.
"Wait, Laughing-eyes, until you have heard the story; then you will not
think so badly of it," he replied, in answer to her repellantly
ejaculated question. "It was given me by Macua, king of Tlacopan, at
the great tourney in token of his appreciation of my skill in throwing
the javelin. I was not a contestant, but, notwithstanding, had occasion
to use my weapon. It happened in this wise: In a bout between lancers a
Tepanec warrior was bent on murdering his opponent after he had struck
him down. When I saw his purpose I sprang to the defense of the fallen
man, killing the would-be assassin with my javelin before he
accomplished the foul deed. And know, O Laughing-eyes, the defeated
lancer was a Tezcucan. Can you blame me for doing what the people
applauded, and Macua rewarded?"
"No, Cacami, I can not blame you. I should have judged you better. The
badge becomes you; wear it where Macua placed it, but only as his gift,
forgetting it was won at such a cost."
"I felt sure you would not blame me for defending a fallen countryman,
even at the cost of a foeman's life. He was a foeman, Laughing-eyes, a
foeman of Tezcuco's, or why his bitter hatred for the warrior whom he
had fairly defeated?"
"Yes, it must have been hatred that lead him on to his death; but,
Cacami, such scenes are best forgotten; let us talk of something else."
"Shall we talk of love, then, Laughing-eyes?"
"Better that than of scenes of blood. Yes, let us talk of love. What of
the troth, O Cacami, which was left unpledged until you, with your
sword, should win honor and fame? Are you not a decorated warrior now?"
"Yes, Laughing-eyes, I am; but is it well to talk of pledges now? Had
we not better wait? I am not less desirous than yourself to seal our
love with the sacred kiss of troth; but, Itlza, your brother, the best
friend I ever had, may yet be saved; and, should he be, I want him to
know, and Teochma, your mother, too, before our pledge is sealed. Our
love will keep, as it has in the past. Who knows, but ourselves, that
we are lovers? And, since this is so, who may come between us?"
Ah, Cacami! if you had only known what lay beyond, we think you would
hardly have plead for delay, though in doing so you showed an honorable
disposition.
"Who, indeed, may come between us?" returned Itlza, in a spirit of
concession. "It were honorable in you, Cacami, to be considerate of my
mother and brother's pleasure in the matter of our troth. I should not
be the one to urge it against your reason, nor will I. No; as you say,
our love will keep."
* * * * *
While Cacami and Itlza, secure in their own minds as to a final and
happy consummation of their dreams, were felicitous--though sad--in
each other's society, Hualcoyotl sat alone in his palace apartments
laying plans, which, if successfully carried out, would bring about
their separation, and the frustration of their cherished hopes. And
yet, he was ignorant of the fact that two lives were to be made
unspeakably wretched by the course he was planning to pursue. He loved
Itlza, but never stopped to think that she might love another; and,
possibly, did not consider such a contingency of sufficient importance
to require a serious thought; for was he not soon to be made a king,
whose will would be law, even in the choice of a wife? His affection
for his lost friend, and the sympathy he felt for the bereaved mother
and sister awakened in his already predisposed mind thoughts of an
immediate union with the latter, and he planned accordingly.
It was the custom of the ruling princes of the Anahuac, when a queen
was to be chosen, to have the intended royal consort brought to the
palace of the prospective royal groom, to receive such instructions as
would fit her for the high position she would be called to fill. With
this end in view, the prince decided that Itlza, with her mother as a
chaperon, should be transferred to his palace at once. He was not yet a
king, and had no authority to issue a command. What he did at this time
was necessarily done by courtesy. When the power to command should be
placed in his hands he would be less persuasive; before, however, his
ends would have to be reached by the milder methods. The mother was
accordingly apprised of his wishes, and asked to give them her
immediate and favorable consideration.
Teochma was not aware, as the reader knows, that matters had gone so
far with Itlza and Cacami as to reach an avowal of their attachment for
each other; although she felt they were more devoted than they should
be, since in her mother-heart had been fostered a hope that Itlza might
yet fill the exalted position of Queen of Tezcuco. Attributing the
prince's proposal to the right motive, she saw in it the possible
consummation of her aspirations, and would not have been human had she
not experienced a certain degree of elation at the prospect. She
acceded to the proposition, and looked forward to her temporary
establishment in the palace as but the entrance to her future exalted
position of mother to the queen.
The ready acquiescence of Teochma to his wishes was very gratifying to
the prince, and preparations for receiving his intended at the palace
immediately followed.