After reaching the woods, and fixing himself as comfortably as he
could, the tzin tried to get some sleep, but could not succeed in
wooing to himself the coveted forgetfulness. The signs in his condition
were not at all favorable; he was feverish, and his wound quite
painful. Hualla showed much concern, and, when it grew light enough to
see, insisted on being permitted to redress his wound. The tzin was not
disposed to allow him to undertake it, fearing he would do him more
harm than good, but, growing rapidly more distressed and restless,
finally yielded, and the lad proceeded with the dressing. Euetzin was
agreeably surprised at the handy manner in which it was done. The
relief to him, which followed, was so marked, and the result so
soothing, that he quickly dropped off to sleep. When Hualla saw that he
slept, he laid himself on the ground near by, and was soon sleeping
soundly, from a head to foot weariness.
The sun was well up toward the zenith when the lad awoke. He arose and
approached the sleeping tzin, who appeared to be suffering even while
slumbering. His breathing was heavy, and accompanied by a sound very
much like a moan. After looking at him searchingly for a moment, the
youth turned away with an anxious expression on his face, and went to
the border of the woods to ascertain if the Tepanec army was still on
the plain. Discovering that it was not, he returned to find Euetzin
just waking. On attempting to rise to a sitting posture, the tzin found
that he could not, and fell back with a groan. Seeing his failure to
get up, and the evident suffering the effort caused him, Hualla went
quickly to his side and said:
"Let me help you, tzin."
"No, Hualla, it is not for want of strength, but in consequence of
pain, that I can not rise. I fear your assistance will no longer avail,
since I am so sore and stiff."
"I am willing to do anything to serve you, tzin Euet. Can't you advise
me?" questioned the lad, anxiously.
The voice in which these words were spoken was so like something he had
heard before, that Euetzin looked sharply at the speaker. He could
discover nothing, however, in his appearance, which would justify the
thought inspired by the seemingly familiar sound, and allowed it to
pass as a possible similarity, or, perhaps, only a freak of the
imagination.
"Will you learn if Maxtla's army is still on the plain, Hualla?" he
said.
"It has gone, tzin Euet. I have only just come from looking."
"Then, Hualla, you must go, at once, to Hualcoyotl for help. I will
remain where I am until you return. Please to hasten."
The lad started immediately on his fruitless errand, from which he
returned soon after noon, with the discouraging intelligence that the
allies had also gone. Euetzin groaned under the weight of a helpless
discouragement at the announcement.
"What am I to do, my lad, now that I am helpless?" he said, showing
much mental distress.
Hualla tried to comfort him, and proposed to go still farther in search
of help. It was the only course left them, under the circumstances.
After eating some of the food which he had procured at the deserted
camp, the lad started off in the direction of the lake, hoping to find
someone there, a fisherman or boatman, who might be induced to come to
their assistance. He was most fortunate, and correspondingly elated, in
finding a party of boatmen who had just landed at the beach, with whom
he succeeded in making arrangements for the tzin's conveyance to a
small town, which was situated on the lake, a league or so away.
Having succeeded so well, Hualla was now greatly encouraged at the
prospect of soon getting his charge to a place where he could have the
immediate attention of a doctor. One thought, however, gave him
considerable anxiety; it was of the suffering the wounded tzin would be
compelled to undergo while being transferred to the beach. The distance
was more than a mile, and the trip, he feared, would prove very
distressing to him, should it be necessary for the men to carry him on
their arms. This difficulty was quickly overcome by the boatmen, whose
native cleverness soon put them in possession of a roughly constructed
litter, on which he was borne to the beach with but little trouble, and
only a slight addition of discomfort.
When Euetzin learned that Hualla had found assistance to relieve him
from his discouraging situation, he could hardly find words strong
enough to express his gratitude. His appreciation of the lad's services
was hourly growing more and more heartfelt, and he could not but marvel
at the exhibition of interest manifested by him for his comfort and
safety. It was, apparently, a phenomenal manifestation of disinterested
kindness.
The tzin bore his distress bravely, and helped, by an occasional
cheerful expression, to relieve the transit of some of its
wearisomeness.
When the beach was reached he was carefully borne to a boat, on which
he was placed, and in due time safely landed at the little Tezcucan
town, where suitable quarters were secured for him, and the attention
of a physician obtained, who soon had him feeling quite comfortable.
So soon as it became known that a wounded Tezcucan cacique had escaped
from Maxtla's army, and found his way to the little town, everybody
became interested, and nothing was too good with which to provide him.
Hualla received his due in praises for his brave conduct, as
represented by Euetzin. He, however, did not seem to relish it,
receiving it with a good deal of embarrassment.
Proof of the lad's cleverness in the matter of wound dressing had been
furnished the tzin in two instances, and, by his request, he was
installed as his nurse. The youth was provided with an apartment of his
own, from which he was seldom seen except when at the bedside of the
tzin.
In less than a day after his arrival at the town, Euetzin became quite
ill. The exhaustive efforts which he had made to get away from the camp
of the enemy, and the unavoidable aggravation and neglect of his wound,
were followed by very serious consequences. A fever set in, and, owing
to the dangerous character of his injury, a complication was brought on
which, but for the careful administrations of his two faithful nurses
and a vigorous constitution to aid them, might have terminated fatally.
Who was the second nurse? we imagine the reader will wonder. We answer,
none other than the good old Itzalmo.
The old preceptor, soon after his flight from Azcapozalco, came to this
town for better security; and, being too old to take part in the
struggle for liberty, had remained there in concealment, waiting the
result. Having no intercourse with the people of the town, he did not
learn of the wounded cacique's arrival until the following day. He had,
however, in the meantime learned of the great victory which had been
won by the allies, and the retreat of Maxtla's army. This emboldened
him, and he left his seclusion to rejoice with his brethren over the
good news. By doing so he quickly learned of the presence of the
wounded chief, and at once decided to make him a visit, thinking he
might, in some way, be of service to him. The old man was not informed
as to the tzin's identity, and made his visit from purely humane and
patriotic motives. On presenting himself at his apartments he was
greatly surprised at discovering in the supposed stranger his young
friend and pupil, tzin Euet; and as a serious turn in the tzin's
condition was just then evident, he became deeply concerned about him,
and immediately gave his whole attention to the case, proving himself
to be a most devoted and skillful attendant. When he fully realized the
dangerous condition of his young friend he insisted upon notifying the
prince regarding him, to which, for some reason, the tzin objected.
"Wait a few days," said he, "when I will be well enough to go to
Tezcuco by boat." Thus were his friends kept in ignorance of his escape
and whereabouts. The few days were more than doubled before his consent
could be obtained, because of the unconscious condition into which he
suddenly passed, and in which he remained for several days. A messenger
was finally dispatched with particulars of his situation, the
communication being signed by Itzalmo, with the simple statement that
the writer was with him.
Hualla was always at the bedside of the tzin when Itzalmo was not, and
appeared anxious and watchful for encouraging signs in the patient's
condition. When a change for the better was at last discovered, he was
wonderfully elated for a youngster like him, and especially one who had
so lately entered into the endangered life.
One day, while the tzin slept, the youthful nurse leaned over the bed
to listen to his breathing; possibly to learn if any change had taken
place in the condition of it. Suddenly, as if from an irresistible
impulse, he pressed a kiss upon the sick man's brow. As he did so the
word "Mitla" might have been distinctly heard coming from the sleeper's
lips. Hualla drew back quickly, and could his face have been seen in
that moment, the observer would have been astonished at the singularly
happy expression upon it. The word uttered carried with it a
revelation.
As the days went by, Hualla became more devoted to the afflicted tzin,
and actions expressive of ardent attachment were of frequent occurrence
on his part.
The patient was rapidly recovering; the nurses, however, had not
relinquished their posts of duty, but continued careful of his every
want. It was in Hualla's watch that we find him quietly dozing, or
apparently so, while the young nurse sat in his accustomed place near
the bed. Presently the latter rose from his seat and approached the
bedside, and, as he frequently did, leaned over the sleeper and gazed
intently into his face. As he was thus occupied Euetzin suddenly opened
his eyes to encounter an earnest, loving expression, which the watcher
was unconsciously revealing. Only a pair of undisguised eyes were seen
by the tzin, in which he beheld, not Hualla, but one with whom he had
at last come to realize he was in love, and, quick as the thought which
impelled him, he caught the watcher's form, and drew it to him, while
he exclaimed:
"Mitla, my own true love! How is it that you are here?" and, when he
had said this, imprinted a fervent kiss upon Hualla's lips.
"The assurance that you love me brings a great joy to my heart. I am
repaid for all that I have endured for love's sake. But, Euetzin, you
must not forget that you are ill. Excitement might do you harm,"
returned the young nurse in surprising language.
"Such excitement will make me well," replied the tzin. "But, Mitla, you
have not told me how you came to be here," still holding the form in
his close embrace.
"Have you forgotten Hualla?"
"No, no! I have not forgotten Hualla, nor will I ever; but, my dear
girl, what has he to do with your presence here?"
"Hualla has everything to do with my presence here; for Hualla and
Mitla are one and the same, Euetzin," was the answer which fell with
surprising effect upon the tzin's ears. In astonishment he let go his
hold of the yielding form, and held it off at arms' length. There was
no mistake; what he had just heard was, indeed, true; for it was
certainly Hualla who stood, smiling and happy, before him. He looked at
the metamorphosed Mitla for a moment, and then, as if suddenly
realizing the wonderful depth of devotion she had shown for him, he
said in a voice exhibiting profound emotion:
"Never love more ardent and powerful moved the heart of woman than that
which has inspired you to do what you have done! The devotion of
Hualla, and the familiar tone of his voice, which has often startled
me, are now explained. From the horrors of an awful death the hand of
Hualla--your hand, O best beloved of my heart--hath rescued me. What do
I not owe you?" He paused, and, drawing Mitla to him, kissed her
fondly.
"Let this be my pledge of troth," he said impressively; "my pledge that
she who has risked and done so much for me shall be my wife."
Mitla's devotion to the man she loved so wildly, and the brave heart
which had struggled through so great dangers and fatigue for his sake,
were rewarded at last, and she made unspeakably happy. Her joy was so
great that she could have rested indefinitely in his embrace, but
Itzalmo must not know that Hualla was other than he seemed. She
disengaged herself from Euetzin's arms, and when the old man came he
found his fellow attendant in his accustomed place, and the patient
looking unusually bright and cheerful.